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#do you really want to have to pay for that repair?
heartfullofleeches · 2 days
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I've really been missing ff reader interacting with the bathroom succubus, they were a quick favourite of mine. Maybe like the reader getting bored and braiding their hair.
Standing outside the smoldering remains of the kitchen, your eyes gradually drift in the direction of your coworker as the flames rage on within the building. Screams of the firemen sent to take care of the fire drown beneath the groan and snap of wood. You probably could've gone the rest of your life without learning ninety percent of the repairs in that building were at the sacrifice of human flesh, but same as with the rest of the horrors you witness you shove it to the back of your mind until it inevitably haunts your nightmares.
"Whelp.... There goes my weekend. Lambchop will be fine in the freezer, but I know they're worried sick about me. Anyway, I'd say it'll be about...." You gadge the time with your hand, measuring the minutes it takes for human bone to fully merge with the floorboards. "Ten....fifteen minutes before things are back to normal. Can you do that thing you do with your hair so I can braid it?"
"You mean this?"
The succubus combs her fingers through her hair, the messy, uneven ends of her pixie cut growing longer, finer with each stroke. Her hair stops at the small of her back by the time she's finished, the dark roots of her natural hair color peaking from the same blonde dye still stain the bathroom walls.
"Why do you even dye your hair when you can change your hair and eye color whenever you want?"
"Sometimes it changes just from me thinking about a color. Gave an old guy a heart attack when my hair turned the same shade of red as your hat. It was kinda funny at the time, but then he started haunting the bathroom which is my territory so I had to get rid of him."
"Are you talking about David? Aw, I kinda liked that guy... He was going to teach me how to do my taxes. Sit down here, please."
Pointing down at the only fresh plot of grass this parking lot had to offer, you plop down beside the succubus as she sits with her legs tucked under her. Even sitting down she was a few inches taller than you. Like other parts of her, her height fluctuated depending on the day and her mood. You prop yourself up on your knees as you part her hair in three sections, weaving one over the other as she fishes her phone out of her pocket.
The succubus pretends to check through her messages, your eyes meeting every single time she opens the camera to peer over her shoulder. Staring down at her phone, you catch a glimpse of the stars. It isn't every night you pay attention to what's up there.
"This is nice...."
"Yeah....." The succubus positions an elbow on your knee - the shutter of a camera not going unnoticed as you look up at the night sky. Your hands function on autopilot, threading her hair down the curve of her spine. You can make out the tips of her small horns at this angle, hidden beneath the fluff of her curls.
"Hey, Lye...."
"Yeah?"
"You know you don't have to burn down the kitchen so I'll spend time with you, right?"
"Yeahhhhh, but your break wasn't for another hour. I needed my you time now."
"....Fair point."
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Sugar Daddy!Cooper Howard really seemed to resonate with y'all (I can't imagine why...), and I definitely heard your requests for a fic! I have a little fun something planned (and I also plan to incorporate quite a few sugar daddy habits into "Duplicity" Cooper), but until then I thought some more headcanons might be fun.
Cooper Howard loves to spend money spoiling you with things like clothes, jewelry, flowers, and dates, but he's also equally happy to spend money on practical things if it takes something off your plate and makes you happy. The first time you invite him over to your place, he brings you flowers and a bottle of something fun. The second time he comes over, he brings bags of staples to fill your pantry and refrigerator (including food for any pets, right brands and flavors and everything), saying he noticed both were a little empty when he was last over. He tells you that next time you can just go with him to pick out what you want (while definitely not just outright fantasizing about an opportunity to be all domestic with you).
He's also quick to sort out your annoying little everyday problems for you. Need something repaired, replaced, or installed? He's already called around and found someone for you, and either he or someone he trusts will be there to pay them and keep you company while the associated people are in your home.
This man will absolutely take over paying your bills if you let him. He understands that it would put you in a vulnerable position, that it would require a lot of trust, and he wants to respect your independence. That said, he thinks the money you earn should go to things you want to spend it on. Even if you play coy about it, every month he gives you more than adequate money for expenses, and you can do with it what you want. Still insists everything be in your name for your protection.
In terms of dates, he really likes to take you to new places and to experience new things. Big fan of taking you on vacation, but due to his limited free time, the two of you are often restricted to places you can get to and back from in a weekend. Still, there are a lot of nice places in that distance, and he always tries to choose things, resorts and hotels and such, that he thinks you'd like.
One of his favorite things to give you, overall, is almost entirely for him (and he will admit this if asked): perfume. It riles him up when you smell extra nice, so he's always on the lookout for new perfumes to make you try. Every time he gifts you one, you remind him that you can only wear so many scents in one lifetime. His response is that he doesn't expect you to keep them all; you can give them away if you don't like how they smell on you (save for one that he really likes; he keeps that one and asks you to wear it around the house for him sometimes). You give away several, but eventually maintain a small collection of nice fragrances, whose bottles you display on a little shelf in your bathroom. You have no idea how much some of them cost (you don't ask) until a friend of yours comes over, sees them, and basically demands to know how you got your hands on thousands of dollars worth of perfume.
He's also not shy about spending money on your interests and hobbies. In fact, he encourages you to get more into them, happily financing and supporting your pursuits. When you offhandedly mention wishing you had more free time to do whatever it is, he says you should just quit your job. He's serious. Once he proposes, you begin to really consider his offer.
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thedevilsoftruth · 3 days
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Dad Shane HC's
( Wrote this bc i just had a baby boy with him in game 😻 14 hearts. Assuming you have two children with him. )
He tries to make breakfast in the morning for the children. He'll ask them what they want and tell them to wake you up if you're not already awake. He's trying new things out and wants to learn how to cook for all of you.
Takes walks with the kids, maybe with your dog if you have a dog.
Wants to teach your boy gridball. He can't really play it nowadays, but that's not stopping him from teaching him.
He's a lot better with your son than he is your daughter ( including Jas ) but he loves all of them equally, even if it is difficult to understand the ladies. Will ask Marnie and you for parental advice.
He has movie nights with you all frequently. Father-son or father-daughter days usually consist of going to theaters and seeing movies.
If you are a female farmer, when you had your first child with him, he had NO idea how to get your baby to stop crying. He'd be almost crying himself out of frustration. " How do I make him/her stop crying? Where's the binky?? Do I just sit here with him/her?? " You'd both be yelling," I don't know " back at each other before he just decided to call Marnie and ask for help.
He talks to Alex sometimes and asks him to coach your son in gridball on the days he has to help you out on the farm.
Makes your children feed the barn animals while he helps you with repairing fences or watering your crops
He pays taxes and has you fill out doctor appointments for your children. He's not gonna remember that shit. He will do the grocery trips as well.
Corny ass dad jokes. " Knock knock. ( Who's there? ) Interrupting cow. ( Interuping c-- ) MOOOO " Another one he likes is the " Why did the chicken cross the road? ( Why?) BCAWUSE "
When your daughter gets old enough to start dating, he's one of those dads who puts his daughters boyfriend to work the second he comes over. " Oh, your boyfriend is coming over? Mom/Dad has a bunch of weeds she/he needs to pull, but is too busy [ yada yada ] "
Makes your children take turns doing this dishes once they get old enough.
His punishment is the corner system when they're under 10 years old. He doesn't take the video games away because he knows that's not going to help them learn. Instead, he makes them do yard word with you and limits their bedtime and screen time. Will also make them do chores like sweeping/mopping and cleaning the bathrooms. Every day for 2 weeks, depending on what the child did. He will also have conversations with them and tell them what they did wrong and how they can prevent it from happening again.
TikTok dad.
Asks his children what he should buy you for holidays or for your anniversary days. Also asks what he should wear.
He's really into pool, so he'll make your children play pool with him once they're 13+
Makes your kids help him decorate for holidays so you can do your things around the farm.
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satureja13 · 2 days
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The next day. While Saiwa still tries to convince Jack that it's not possible to throw Greg in the dungeons of the castle without proper evidence and investigations, they suddenly heard an alarm going off ö.ö
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Jeb: "Jack, Kiyoshi - quick! Let's get out of here!"
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It wasn't hard to locate the source of the noise, it came from their TTT (Teleporting TukTuk)! They turned the alarm off. Despite the lock on its wheel, it must have moved out of the garage by itself.
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Saiwa: "But why the alarm?" Vlad checked his calendar: "Erm, I guess over Jack's death, we've forgotten that it's Summer Solstice today..." Saiwa: "What? Already one and a half month have passed since then?" Time flies! And they'd already forgotten Beltane, the last festival in the wheel of the year... Today is the beginning of summer and the longest day of the year. Until Winter Solstice on December 21, the days are getting shorter again from tomorrow on.
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Jack: "Maybe it wants us to board and it'll take us somewhere, like last time at Beltane when we found ourselves at Tartosa..." And so they squeezed themselves into the tiny teleporting TukTuk... Puppy Jack is already excited, as always: "I wonder where we are going this time!"
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The TTT ported them away from Tomarang through the Otherworld... Well, this place looks familiar. It's Henford! Where Sai, Jack, Vlad and Ji Ho had spent their first weekend trip together almost two years ago! And where Jeb showed up and we saw his face for the first time (that was before he joined them).
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But it's also the place where Jack's Heidi nightmare took place. Which lead to his breakdown - and his breakup with Kiyoshi... and the beginning of his pain. Saiwa: "Are you ok, Jack? Come, let's leave again." Jack: "What? No! It's Summer Solstice! We should celebrate. I'm fine. We deserve a little time out. Remember? The old Jack is dead and the new, better Jack is going to prosper!" Sometimes Saiwa wishes he had a tiny bit of Jack's optimism. How can he be so positive to be able to vercome his hardships after he wanted to throw Greg in the dungeons just a few minutes ago? Saiwa sighed. (This actually happened to me a few years ago. I had been working so hard on myself to overcome my hardships and prosper. I'd thought I'd come so far already and I had been utterly sure I'd made huge steps. But then something happened that showed me I wasn't as stable as I thought I was and it threw me back so far omg. Let's hope Jack will do better than me - with a little help of his friends.)
Also, Jack never forgot that Vlad wanted to come back to Henford with Ji Ho. That had been one of his last wishes before he died (after he drank Ji Ho's poisonous blood to claim him back from Genji...) So leaving is not an option for Jack. Everything happens for a reason.
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Sai was not completely convinced that Jack is really ok but the show must go on: "Well then - let's change into something comfortable and hope that TTT brought some stuff with him."
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And since they are in the Otherworld and the TTT is a magical vehicle, there was actually a lot the tiny TukTuk brought with him - and to set up :3 There is even a tent that looks like Barfolomews holy Star Wars tent Jack had destroyed on their weekend trip (Ji Ho worked at the Diner de los Muertos to pay for the repair - where he met Luci...) Of course Vlad and Jack will sleep in the Star Wars tent. And Kiyoshi and Jeb will share a tent (Kiyoshi is still not back to his old self since he came back after spending decades in the tree / becoming a diety) and Saiwa and Ji Ho the other. Even the Little Goats joined them!
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Saiwa is worried about Jack, no matter how much he claims to be ok. Jack is Saiwa's oldest friend, he'll talk to him later when everything is set up and the goats and the Boys are fed.
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And while the others set up the tents and stuff, Jeb prepared the meals. The sun was just setting when they started to eat. What a wonderful world. They deserve a peaceful festival after all they went through.
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'I see skies of blue and clouds of white The bright blessed day the dark sacred night And I think to myself what a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky Are also on the faces of people going by I see friends shaking hands saying, "How do you do?" They're really saying I love you'
Louis Armstrong - What a wonderful World
The way Sai looks at Jeb when he looks in another direction <3
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And then his face fell when he looked back at Jack.
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When they finished their meal, Sai and walked a bit together. Just until they saw the Mansion from afar. Greg had brought toddler Jack to the Mansion after he rescued him from the Lab and he grew up here with 'Uncle' Stefan (Stefan is not his real Uncle). And here also the worst part of his Heidi Nightmare took place... Saiwa: "Let's leave, we'll find another place, hm?"
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Jack: "I won't run away anymore. I've come so far and my pain is almost gone. Maybe I died ingame so I can prove that the therapy works? That I can carry over what I've learned ingame to my real life? It will be painful and hard. And I miss Lou so much. But it will be worth it in the end. I'll start a new life. You will help me, won't you? Push me when I fall back in my old, crazy habits." Sai: "Of course I will help you. I'm just not sure if I can push you. I'm worried you're going too fast."
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But then a Summer Solstice Wonder happened! A flock of cute birds were flying in circles around Jack! With sparkles and singing and everything! As if they wanted to reassure him that he's on the right path! Jack: "What? ... See?!" Saiwa: "How did you do that? You are really something else ^^'"
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Sai: "I hope I can find a kind of balance between pushing you and keeping you safe. But I'm always there for you. Just talk to me, hm? And we still have Vlad." Jack: "Promised. I love you." Saiwa sighed but he said it anyway: "I know." (Saiwa is not much into Star Wars, that's more a Jack/Vlad thing. But he knows it makes Jack happy when he answers with 'I know' ^^')
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to be continued...
The Boys had quite the event on last year's Summer Solstice ö.ö Let's hope this year's is quieter.
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The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here
From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here Last Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28
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certifiedwerewolf · 21 hours
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Guys I fucked up my computer
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I knocked it off my bed and as you can see, the screen objected. I've hooked it up to my tv for now but this is only viable as a short term solution so I'm opening up donations.
Paypal is here, if you have any to spare and feel like this would be a good place to put it I would appreciate that!
My current plans:
-> I'm going to ask at work when I go back next week if my coworker knows where I can go to get it repaired, since I would love to just keep my current computer. If it's repairable, that'll be a lot easier to get the money for as well.
-> If I do have to replace it, I'm planning a trip home to visit my family next month (which is where all of my savings are going to currently, plane tickets are expensive in the summer), so I'd like to have the money for the replacement while I'm there-- my family live in Georgia, and things are a little bit cheaper there than in Seattle. I might also be able to get my dad to help me with the cost, or he can help pay for my plane tickets and I can hang on to some of my savings. Idk I'll talk to him when he calls tomorrow.
-> If I'm NOT able to get the funds together in time, I'll just keep using this janky setup with my tv until I can save up enough.
Anyway, that's it. If you have any to spare and want to help me out, I'd appreciate it, if you don't or prefer to put that money elsewhere, that's fine too! It's not the most urgent thing in the world but also this janky setup IS really annoying so I would like to get it sorted out quickly as possible.
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aanabear2803 · 2 months
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anyways imagine being this weird ass old lady who has no idea where to put the sd card into the 3d printer and yanking things out because you think you know better.
like damn T-T she scared the living shit out of me while I was busy watching matpat eat his last meal with my headphones on and she like demanded to know where to put the sd card after the carnage of what she did. (the 3d printer is against a wall so the librarian put sd card extenders and this lady somehow managed to pry the extender out. like its supposed to make a click sound when you push it in and again when you take it out and when I went to put the extender back in I had to unclick and click the extender back in. like dafuq lady)
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bamsara · 9 months
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i think my patreons are the best tbh im out here fighting demons, brain damage, car broke, cost of living, price inflation, printer errors, delivery mishaps, rapid onset of media brainrot, inconsistant art style, isolation, the toils and tribulations of living in the rural south, social obligations with financial cost requirement, a cat that actively breaks into plastic bins to chew on stickers and burn out
i am constantly slipping on a bannana peel and patreons are just
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tj-crochets · 3 months
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So I've never really lived in a neighborhood that's like fully a community that supports each other before? I mean, there's been a neighbor or two that my family has been on like "exchange cookies at the holidays" status with, but not like my current neighbors, who made extra mini cheesecakes to share with us and made mine without the apple pie filling the others had so that I could eat it with my allergies (they are so nice and the mini cheesecake was so good!), who look out for each other and help each other move furniture and stuff? Anyway all that to say I really enjoy where I live now, and I have no photos to share for this afternoon's crafting update because my neighbor asked me to fix their dog's bed's cover and I removed and added a new zipper for them
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NEW OLD WATCH
c. 1895-1903, gold-filled, made by the Waltham company. so she’s a New England lady through and through
and contrary to my standard “BUT THIS JANKY UNLOVED PIECE NEEDS ME” method of antiquing, I used some Christmas money to actually do the thing properly where a mechanical device is concerned. so she is recently serviced and keeps excellent time. I also love the use of texture to make the tone-on-tone design clear despite its monochrome look
now I think some skirts are in need of watch pockets...
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blunderpuff · 7 months
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my mom hates the house, hates the neighborhood (can't walk to anything/have to get in the car for everything), can't find stuff she packed, doesn't have good places to put her stuff, her big desk doesn't fit in the "office alcove", the cat is days away from being put down and so he's clingy and sad...
MA'AM. YOU WERE THE ONE WHO WAS DESPERATE TO MOVE. BUYING THIS HOUSE HAS BEEN IN THE WORKS SINCE JULY OF THIS YEAR. "MOVING" AS A CONCEPT HAS BEEN THE SUBTITLE OF MY LIFE FOR THE PAST 5 YEARS. YOU DO NOT GET TO BE A PISSY TODDLER NOW. THIS IS LITERALLY ALL YOUR DOING.
#the secret world of merry mac#and she keeps yelling at Arthur to leave her alone but he's fucking dying. he barely eats and he's cold and has balance issues#the poor cat is existing in his final week on this planet and she's just mad at him and taking it out on him#i have basically no furniture (none of it matched and so i didn't mind giving it away/selling it)#so that means my things are all shoved into precariously stacked boxes and i'm sleeping on an army cot#i'm depressed too!! i left a decent paying job doing something i really liked! i would have been fine moving to a different house in town!!#she wanted (1) trader joe's (2) kaiser permanente and (3) her own swimming pool#she got (1) trader joe's 2 freeways/30m drive away (2) no kaiser and (3) no pool#this is how we always move; my mom gets the itch and then we leave. it's not that she wants to move TO somwhere-- it's just AWAY from here#(wherever 'here' is)#so i spent my entire last paycheck on furniture that won't even be here for a week or more#i also hate the (brand new) fridge that came with the house. it's a side-by-side and it's simultaneously stupidly spacious#but also the space is used in such a stupid way that you can't even lay a frozen pizza flat on a freezer shelf#she also collects screws/nuts/bolts/nails/washers like a fucking magpie and so no two are the same#and she doesn't use the correct things for the job and she just put two ROOFING NAILS into the wall to hold a magnet board up#she sucks at home repair (made worse by the aforementioned WRONG TOOLS FOR THE JOB) and so everything is done#with extreme frustration and it turns out half-assed and looks bad#she doesn't wait and/or think about where she wants stuff to go so she's just spent the afternoon hanging things up badly#and the house is going to look like it was decorated by some clown who needs to hang every piece of art they own all at once#we have picture rails so we can swap artwork/photos according to mood/season/etc but no... she just puts EVERYTHING out all at once#anyway i'm so sad and tired and frustrated and angry and it feels really unfair to keep my mouth shut when she says 'i wish we never moved!
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Day 31, happy last day of January! *celebratory kazoo noises* May all of the bad shitty luck stay in that month and not follow me for the rest of the year.
Anywho, tonight I bring you even more walk cycle! Woop woop!!! I did a bit more volume control, added two more in-between frames, extended how many frames each drawing is held for, and upped the frames per second to a proper 24 (previously it was 21, oops). So far we're at 13 frames/drawings, each held for three extra frames for a total of four, which adds up to 52 frames and slightly more than two seconds of animation :D
I also!!!! Did something I never, ever do!!!!! I followed a recipe for dinner! :D Look below the cut to see!
I followed this recipe for ground beef and cabbage. On the left is it cooking in the pot, the right is it actually dished up.
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Y'all, it physically pained me to follow the recipe exactly. I usually glance at a recipe to get an idea of ingredients and cooking time and then wing it, this was antithetical to my whole entire being :| And I'm slightly disappointed with how it came out? It needs... something. More umami. Also something else. Maybe more spice? But definitely more umami. I'm thinking toasted sesame seeds and a splash of either soy or teriyaki sauce next time, probably some carrots and corn because I like carrots and corn, and also a fuckton more garlic (there was zero garlic in the recipe aside what was in the pre-mixed Italian seasoning the recipe called for; which, as anyone who knows me knows, is insufficient garlic). Someone in the comments of the recipe mentioned Worcestershire sauce, which I've never tried before (I know I know, don't judge), so I may have to get some just to give that a shot. If I ever make this again, I'm definitely seasoning the beef before I throw it in the pot.
But! This was a learning experience, and it didn't turn out bad, so all in all I'm satisfied :D
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fashion-runways · 4 months
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hi!! new pinned post, because the last one had gotten long again-- if you want to read previous posts, here's the first one, here's the second one. the tl;dr from those is that my dad got wrongfully imprisoned abruptly, our place was raided, the cops broke a bunch of shit and took a bunch of our things and still haven't returned them, they left all the broken things for us to spend money in repairing, we had to spend money on a lawyer, trips to visit him, new clothes, medicine and food for him in jail, etc. it was a mess, way more details in both posts. he's back home now, with an ankle monitor because technically his case isn't being investigated yet, they haven't done anything about it at all, the case hasn't moved one ounce lmao it's great, always trust the judicial system and cops!! ugh, anyway!
we found a therapist for my dad who can help her deal with all the stuff he had to deal with while in prison, all the bullying, the depression, the starving, the separation, etc. he needs to get a bunch of other medical appointments, has to get surgery, among other things, but for now things are much better on that front. that being said, he did lose his job and my old redbubble account got suspended without a warning months ago, plus argentina's economy is... really bad right now. food prices rise every day, public transportation prices went up like a 200% in a couple of weeks, salaries are low and stuck there, subsidies are gone, the local peso keeps falling, we have an absolute psychopath as a president who spends more time insulting or threatening anyone who oppose him than caring about people. it's a disaster. for updates on argentina in english, this person on twitter makes very good informative threads if you're interested.
anyway, i used to make around 30/40 dollars a month in redbubble, and that used to help adding up to the donations i got here, and it got suspended, so now i make like 1/2 dollars on teepublic monthly. so... it's a huge loss. there's a lot of things me and my mom are in charge of paying-- groceries, power and water and gas, medicine (she's diabetic, i have some sort of chronic sinusitis), our dog and cat's food and medicines, wifi, phone bills, public transportation, healthcare, my dad's new therapist... so, you know, i really need anything people can donate. even if it's just a single dollar, literally any amount helps. i love fashion so much and i love this blog, i work really hard on it even when my brain says no, and i really appreciate how much you guys love it too. i love seeing people discover new styles, new designers, new things to be inspired by. so, yeah... i'm never going anywhere, but i do need help to basically stay afloat.
as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. thanks for being around and sharing and reblogging my posts, thanks for asking questions about fashion, and of course thanks for helping to the ones who can, and thanks to the ones who can't too, i know how that feels like, don't worry about it. love you 💖
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ayeforscotland · 6 months
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Hi folks,
Sorry I have to write this because I was really hoping I wouldn't. Some of you might have read me venting about boiler issues over the past 6-7 months.
Basically, our boiler was condemned by our insurance company who said they would no longer repair it, and they could offer us an *incredible* £750 towards a new boiler if we used a specific supplier. This supplier wanted to charge us £5,500 for the job, and we, naturally, didn't have £4,750 lying around to spend. So we tried British Gas who came and gave us a quote...again for over £5000 because we'd need to pay for scaffolding, and this time without the £750 towards it from the insurance. Since then our boiler has started actively leaking and my mornings start with emptying the bucket that sits underneath. As a hail Mary I tried another local supplier this week who visited us yesterday. He's quoted us for a replacement boiler at £2500 which is arguably much more manageable. Through saving up and some extremely generous donations when I first ranted about the boiler, we've managed to save £1000. We were hoping that Home Energy Scotland would be able to provide a loan to cover the remaining £1500, but they have changed their policy to exclude gas boilers, and they ruled we weren't eligible for the Warmer Home Scotland fund as we don't receive benefits. I know it's the worst time of year to ask because it's an expensive time, but if any of you happen to need anything read to you by a Scottish guy or want your Scottish character's dialogue checked, please consider commissioning me on Ko-Fi.
You can, of course, also do one-off donations or even monthly support on Ko-Fi but I like being able to offer something in return.
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bookshelf-dust · 1 year
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healing
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billy hargrove x gn!reader
word count: 5,445
warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??
a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333
————
November 1985
“No.”
“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 
Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 
“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 
She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”
The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”
Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 
“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”
Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 
“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 
Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 
It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 
You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 
Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 
But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.
There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 
Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 
You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 
He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 
When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”
He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 
“Hey. Glad your test is over?”
That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”
You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 
“You have work today?”
Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 
Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 
“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 
You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”
The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 
“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 
The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 
“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 
“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.
“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 
Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 
Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 
“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”
“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”
Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 
Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 
He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 
You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 
He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 
When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 
Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 
He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 
“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 
He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 
“Besides what?” 
You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 
Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 
“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 
“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 
“You know what.”
“I want you to go.”
“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”
————
The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 
Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 
She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 
Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 
You and Billy. 
You and Billy Hargrove.
Sharing a room. 
Sharing a bed. 
Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 
“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 
“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”
That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”
You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?
Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?
“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”
He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”
He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 
“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”
You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 
“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”
You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 
“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 
You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”
Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 
“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”
You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 
Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”
You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”
Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 
“Really?”
He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 
“Yeah, baby.”
Baby. 
It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 
And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.
“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”
“Mhm. Thought so.” 
This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.
“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.
When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 
You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 
You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 
Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 
“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.
————
Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 
“Right hand blue.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”
Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 
“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”
“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 
He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 
Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 
He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 
“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”
“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 
“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”
You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 
“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 
You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”
His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”
Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 
The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 
It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 
————
You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 
You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 
He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 
When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 
You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 
He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.
“C’mere then.”
You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”
“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”
“Billy.”
“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 
Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 
He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 
“Yeah.” 
Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 
“Yes.” 
He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.
Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 
He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 
“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 
You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 
“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 
“You’re sure?”
“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”
He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 
It’s just me. 
“Do they hurt at all?”
Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 
“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”
You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 
He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 
“Goodnight, Billy.”
He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 
“Goodnight, baby.”
————
When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.
Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 
You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 
Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 
Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 
You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 
“Sleep okay?” she asks. 
“Mhm. You?”
“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 
You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 
“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”
You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”
“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”
You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”
“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 
“Oh my god.”
“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”
“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”
“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 
“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 
Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 
He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 
“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”
————
Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 
It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 
It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 
You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 
“Whatcha doin’?” 
Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 
“That sounds nice.”
“Mhm.”
“I can go back inside, if you want.”
Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 
“Okay.” 
He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 
“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”
“I understand, Billy.” 
You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 
“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 
“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”
He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 
Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 
When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 
He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 
“You motherfucker!” 
You get him back, and he’s laughing. 
Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.
You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 
“Billy!”
“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 
You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 
When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 
“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”
You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 
He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 
He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.
Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.
It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 
When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.
Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.
“I’m in love with you, you know.”
“I know,” you respond.
He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 
“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”
“Damn right you are.”
You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 
“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 
“So much for that,” Billy says.
But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
————
“I’m regretting this, Billy.”
“Stop whining.”
Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 
“Get off.”
“No.”
“Get off, please.”
“Make me.” 
There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.
He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”
And you’d do it again. 
“Didn’t work, did it?”
“No. Shut up and take it.”
By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.
You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 
He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 
He’s never had this before.
Hell, you’ve never had this before. 
And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 
You’re healing him. You. 
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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girlgenius1111 · 3 months
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all that i did to try to undo it
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engen!reader... platonic ingrid & reader + platonic mapi & reader
r lives with her sister, but their relationship is rather rocky. can they fix it before it's broken beyond repair? angst. pretty much just angst. r is not mentally well. proceed with caution.
–-----
Moving from Norway to Spain wasn’t your idea. It seemed that your parents had had quite enough of you. You knew you could have been better behaved, but you hadn’t realized they were so frustrated that they were willing to send you away. Not until it was too late. 
It was your friends, back in Norway, that were the issue. They were why you snuck out and drank and cut school and generally broke all the rules that had been set for you. And this was why, when you arrived in Spain, it all… stopped. Mostly because you barely spoke Spanish and had no friends. Also because Ingrid had adopted a rather tough love attitude with you. She was strict and cold and you knew that she wouldn’t tolerate any missteps. And honestly, you didn’t know where you’d go if Ingrid decided she didn’t want you around anymore. Not that you were sure she really did in the first place; you were pretty convinced that she was doing this as a favor to your parents. She didn’t want you here, and you weren’t going to push her to do something about that. 
Unbeknownst to you, Ingrid did want you there. It had been her idea for you to come to Spain in the first place. Your parents were at a loss with what to do with you, and Ingrid was tired of hearing how frustrated they were with you when she knew you were just trying to get their attention. She decided she could probably do a better job, simply by just paying attention. And so she did. She moved you in, she got on your ass about your responsibilities and your future, and you hadn’t yet put a toe out of line. Your sister was determined that you assimilate, thinking it would make it easier for you, so she only allowed you to speak Spanish in the home. She had Mapi read over your essays, and help with your grammar. She drove you to school everyday, and made you all eat dinner together as a family every night. It seemed to be working. You were quiet, but behaved. Ingrid was pretty convinced she’d done a good job, and solved the issue. You were a teen, and she figured you didn’t need her trying to hangout with you all the time. 
So, while Ingrid paid attention to your school, she didn’t pay much attention to you. She didn’t know you didn’t have any friends at your school, or that a lot of the kids were pretty cruel to you. She didn’t know school had turned into an entire nightmare, and that you had to push through an insane amount of anxiety just to walk through the front doors every morning. She didn’t know that you were behaving because you were scared of her kicking you out. She didn’t know you were desperately sad and homesick, not even allowed to speak your language in your own home with her. She didn’t know that all you wanted some days was for her to just pull you into a hug, and tell you she was proud of you. That she loved you. 
Why would she? Your parents clearly didn’t. Ingrid had no reason to either. 
Mapi had some reservations about the way Ingrid was with you. It was a complete 180 from the Norwegian’s normal demeanor. Ingrid was smiley and warm and silly with the younger girls on the team, and stern and harsh with you. Mapi noticed the way you watched your sister with her teammates, face full of jealousy. As time went on, though, and you didn’t cause trouble, Ingrid became more and more sure that her approach was the right one. Mapi still wasn’t as convinced. She wasn’t quite sure it was her place to say anything, though, so she kept a watchful eye on everything, and made sure to make you feel like their home was yours too.
You didn’t quite know what to make of Mapi, honestly. She was clearly infatuated with your sister. And she was always so kind to you. Mapi made you coffee every morning, made sure to buy all your favorite foods at the store, and she reminded you, repeatedly, that if you ever wanted to talk, about anything, she was around.  But Mapi was Ingrid’s. Not yours. If Ingrid was so reluctant to show you any affection, you shouldn’t seek it out from her girlfriend. 
You were quietly miserable. Ingrid thought you were okay, finally mellowing out. Mapi was caught somewhere in the middle, seeing both the side of yourself you hid from your sister, and the neutral façade you put on in front of her. 
For you, things couldn’t get much worse. Or at least, you didn’t think so. 
------
It had been a while since you’d gotten in a fight. You’d forgotten how good it felt to punch someone in the face who very much had it coming. 
It was your birthday. You would have forgotten, too, if a few of your old friends hadn’t texted you. Ingrid had forgotten. You’d woken up to her knocking on your door like she always did. She was focused on the important training session ahead, and barely spoke to you on the way to school. She’d forgotten your birthday, and you thought that it hadn’t bothered you. Until the idiotic group of boys was following you down the hallway, saying awful things. Until you’d snapped back at them in a way you never did, and until they began throwing punches. And you didn’t run. You turned and you fought and you let your anger and your hurt out for the first time in months. For the first time since you left Norway.
 There was an odd sense of calm that washed over you, waiting in the dean’s office for your sister to arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, in that moment, what she would think. Your hands hurt, your face hurt, and you’d finally stood up for yourself to the awful boys that wouldn’t leave you alone. 
When Ingrid walked into the office, though, an absolutely livid expression on her face, you realized you did care. Very much. You had been waiting on the dean, and although he was a scary man, you would have rather faced him at that moment. 
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Ingrid hissed, grabbing your face in her hands and inspecting your wounds. 
“Ing,” 
“Do not. I cannot believe you. I don’t want to hear your excuses or your explanations. You are going to apologize to the dean, take your punishment, and we are going to go home. I’ll deal with you there. Understand?” 
You lowered your head, nodding. She took the seat on your other side, still visibly angry, though she softened for just a second as she looked closely at your hand. 
“Is anything broken?” She asked quietly. Your eyes flooded with tears at the question, everything inside of you screaming to lean into her arms. She was angry, you thought. She was angry, and she wouldn’t want to hug you right now. 
“I don’t think so.” You mumbled instead. 
“Good. María will patch you up when we get home.” Her tone was cold again, and you began to zone out. The dean walked in, spewing a long lecture. He didn’t tell Ingrid that you hadn’t swung first, or that the boys had been bothering you for weeks. He didn’t tell Ingrid what they called you, or that it was three 18 year old boys against an 18 year old girl. He just said that the school didn’t tolerate fighting, and that you would be suspended for a week. 
The worst part was that Ingrid didn’t even ask what happened. Not in the office, not in the car, not when you both got home. You used to get into fights all the time, back in Norway. She thought this was more of the same from you. Your sister stormed off to call your mom the minute you were in the house, leaving you standing in the entry hall in front of Mapi, eyes fixed on the ground. 
Mapi’s hand was gentle when it rested on your back, gently guiding you up the stairs and into the couple’s bathroom. She sat you on the counter like you were a little kid, and pulled out the first aid kit. Only then did you raise your head and look at her. You thought she would be mad, but she only looked concerned. 
“She hates me.” You said it before you could stop yourself, and your voice shook over every syllable. Mapi’s face melted, and she shook her head insistently, carefully wiping a tear off your face. 
“No, nena. She’s upset, but she loves you very much.” Mapi seemed convinced. She loved your sister, after all. And though you didn’t know it, Mapi had been a witness to your sister worrying over you for 2 years now. 
There was no use arguing, so you stopped talking again, and Mapi got back to cleaning your face up. She asked you a couple questions in English about things that hurt and didn’t hurt, and you responded in English. Mapi had moved on to cleaning the cuts on your knuckles when Ingrid appeared. 
“Can you bend your fingers?” Mapi asked. 
“Yeah, it’s a little sore, but I can bend them.” You replied. 
“Español.” Ingrid scolded. You nodded, correcting yourself quickly, now trying to stifle the flow of tears flowing from your eyes. 
“How are you feeling?” Ingrid asked, stepping in closer to study you closely. 
“Okay. Hurts a bit but I’m fine.” You said softly. 
“Do you promise it just hurts a bit?” Ingrid asked. 
“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Your body didn’t hurt that bad. You hurt though. Every inch of you ached with a deep sadness, a deep loneliness. But that wasn’t what Ingrid had asked. 
“We have a dinner tonight, a team dinner. Will you be okay here if we go?” 
A little bit of you shattered, then. Maybe you’d been hoping that Ingrid had remembered your birthday, had been planning a fun dinner or something. Clearly not. 
“Yeah. I’ll get a head start on my homework.” You managed, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from crying. Ingrid nodded, satisfied, but Mapi didn’t look away from you. 
“Are you sure? You look a bit upset, nena. We can stay if you need us.” 
You shook your head harshly. “No, I’m fine. Promise.” 
You were very far from fine. You needed to be alone, though, if you were going to feel every complicated emotion raging through you. 
------
“Ingrid,” Mapi said suddenly, about halfway into their drive to the restaurant. Ingrid hummed in response, looking over at her girlfriend from the passenger seat. “Your sister said something today. And it seemed like she really, really believed it. I think you need to be a little easier on her, amor. She’s just a kid.” 
“What did she say?” Ingrid wondered, head stuck on that comment. 
Mapi hesitated, well aware of how hard this might hit Ingrid. “She said you hated her. She was pretty convinced, Ingrid. How mad were you at the school?” 
Ingrid sighed roughly, running an exhausted hand over her face. “Fuck. She’s always been dramatic, I forget that she’s just… sensitive sometimes. I was pretty harsh.” She admitted. 
“Amor, I know you think this strict approach is working, but I don’t know. She seems so sad sometimes. She’s just a kid, and she’s doing her best. I think she needs you to be a bit… softer with her.” Mapi suggested, finally voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing her for weeks, if not months. 
Ingrid was quiet for a while. “Maybe. I don’t know, I thought it was working, but then today happened. I don’t know what to do.” 
“Why don’t you just… talk to her? What was the fight even about?” Mapi asked. 
Ingrid didn’t respond, her frustration with herself quickly replacing her frustration with you. 
“You didn’t ask?” Mapi sighed. 
“No, but the dean didn’t say either.” Ingrid defended halfheartedly. 
“That probably isn’t a good thing mi amor. We’ll talk to her when we get home. Figure out what’s going on.” Mapi declared. 
“We?” Ingrid asked quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips. 
“We.” Mapi affirmed, looking cautiously at her girlfriend. “Is that okay?” 
“More than okay.” Ingrid assured her. “I think she might need both of us.” 
It was clearer, now, to Ingrid. Suddenly, and very painfully. That she’d gone about this wrong. The extent of the damage that had been done was not yet to be realized, though. 
--------
The silence that echoed through the house was what got you. Today, on your 18th birthday, you sat alone at the kitchen table, tears falling freely from your eyes. They stung the cuts in on your face, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. It felt like wherever you went, you messed up. Wherever you went, you weren’t wanted. When you’d come to Norway, you’d had hope that maybe things would be different. Maybe Ingrid would treat you differently than your parents. She had, but you still didn’t feel loved. It felt like there was something fundamentally wrong with you that drove everyone away. You just wanted to make it better, and yet, at the same time, you felt so incredibly hopeless. Like there was nothing in the world you could do to make your family love you. You supposed it was your fault; you’d been acting out for years. Everyone was bound to get tired of you. You didn’t want to be like that, you just didn’t know what else to do. The age gap to your siblings was huge, your parents were tired of being parents, and no one had any time for you. Or the desire to make time. You’d done the only thing you could think of at the time to get their attention, and it had only made things worse. You had only made things worse. 
And still, a part of you was angry. Furious. Did you have to be perfect? Did you have to make no mistakes? Shouldn’t they love you regardless of all that? There was no consistency in your brain; sometimes it all felt like your fault, and other times it felt like there wasn’t anything you could do right. 
You felt the inexplicable urge to apologize. Really apologize, really explain.  Maybe they could forgive you. Maybe Ingrid could forgive you, maybe you could get her to understand. You didn’t think you could make it through an entire apology, though, not verbally, not face to face with your intense sister. So you got out a piece of paper, and began writing. 
Ingrid,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got stuck with me, and I’m sorry I haven’t been good enough. I’ve tried, I promise I have. Sometimes I feel like it isn’t possible for me to meet your standards, but I still try. 
I’m sorry about the fight today. They came at me, I swear. These three boys have been bothering me since I've arrived, and they say horrible things to me, and I just snapped. I should have just kept quiet, and they never would have started the fight, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that. 
I’m sorry I’m always home and bothering you and Mapi. I’m sorry I haven’t made any friends here, and I’m sorry my spanish isn’t perfect. I’m sorry I'm so miserable. I don’t know why I can’t just be happy, but I can’t. I want to be. I really do. It just feels like you’re always mad at me. I feel like such an awful person no matter what I do. Mom and Dad didn’t want me. And I don’t think you want me. I don’t think I want me either, sometimes. 
I’m trying to like it here, but it’s so different. I miss Mom and Dad, even though I know they don’t miss me. I miss my home and I miss Norway. I miss my friends. I didn’t really feel like I belonged there, but at least it was familiar. 
I think I’m mad at you, too. You’re my sister, Ingrid. Do you always have to be so harsh with me? I think I’d be happier, if you seemed happier that I was here. 
You forgot my birthday. Mom and Dad didn’t remember either.  I turned 18 today. I turned 18 today, and you and Mapi went to dinner without me. I made a sandwich and ate it by myself in the kitchen. I’ve never felt so worthless. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I just want you all to love me again. I want to love myself again. I think I’d do anything, to feel like I have a family again. 
I’m so desperate I’m writing you this absurd letter that I’ll probably never give you. I don’t know if I can give it to you. I’m scared to give it to you, and I’m scared not to. 
I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me. I’m scared because it feels like no one would even notice if I was gone. It feels so easy. Everyday it feels like it would be easier. 
I guess I’m asking for help, Ingrid. I don’t want to ask you to fix this for me, but I don’t think I can do it myself.  I want to be better, I want to
Your writing cut off abruptly, as the front door opened. All you felt was panic. You were a mess, sobbing uncontrollably on the couch with the letter almost completed in front of you. They weren’t supposed to be home yet. The event was supposed to be a long one, and you’d planned on leaving the letter, if you were brave enough, on the kitchen table, and going to bed. Handing it to your sister face to face had never been the plan. You weren’t even sure it made any sense, and you weren’t sure you wanted to give it to her. 
The front door swung open anyway, and Mapi walked into the house. You remembered, then, that she was always coming home early. She had a follow up appointment for her knee the following morning, and she hadn’t wanted to be out late. Alexia had driven her home early, not wanting a late night herself. Ingrid was still at the dinner, but Mapi was here. Standing frozen in the entryway, with a perfect view of the disaster you were on the couch. You were frozen, and she was frozen, but then she was moving, moving closer to you, and you couldn’t you couldn’t you couldn’t. 
“Pequeña, what is it? What hurts?” Mapi asked urgently, moving to sit next to you on the couch. She thought you must be hurt, physically. The thought that the agony on your face could be from anything else didn't even enter her brain. 
She sat next to you, and you were still frozen, not even able to move the piece of paper out of sight. 
Mapi saw it. You were using one of your textbooks as a surface, not unlike how you did your homework. Your favorite pen was in your hand. And resting in your lap, on the textbook, was a piece of paper that somehow radiated pain. Mapi was reaching for it before she even knew what she was doing, and you were still frozen. Frozen, staring at Mapi like you were afraid of her. Very suddenly, Mapi was terrified. 
“Nena, what is this?” She asked softly. It was to Ingrid. Written in Spanish. Mapi saw her name in it a few places as she scanned it over, before she looked back up at you. “Nena?” she prompted again. 
This time, you did move. You jolted forward, reaching for the letter, a deep gasping breath escaping your mouth. Mapi held it out of your grasp, her eyes stuck on one sentence, the only sentence that she’d read so far. It had jumped out at her. 
“I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me.” 
An instantly, Mapi knew she couldn’t let you take the piece of paper back. She knew she needed to call Ingrid and tell her to come home. She knew she couldn’t let you out of her sight. You were so fragile, though, sitting in front of her like you were second away from shattering into a million pieces. Too many pieces for anyone to ever be able to fix. 
“Nena, I think I need to read this.” She whispered, watching carefully as you pulled your hand back towards your body, as you curled in on yourself, and began to shake with silent sobs. 
And then Mapi read the letter. With one hand on your back, and one hand tightly clutching the paper, she read the most painful thing she’d ever laid her eyes on. It tore her apart, reading how you felt. 
And it wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for Ingrid. And, ridiculously, Mapi wished she could fix it before Ingrid ever read what you’d written. Mapi would have done anything in that moment, to make things right with you, and to make sure Ingrid never had to know how badly she had hurt you. Because realizing it would hurt the Norwegian just as much. 
Mapi ached to tell you so many things. That Ingrid loved you so much, she just wasn’t sure how to help you. That she thought what she was doing was working, helping. That she was sure Ingrid didn’t know the date, or she’d have never forgotten your birthday. That she knew Ingrid would do anything, anything in the world, to fix this. That Mapi was sure both she and Ingrid would go back in time if they could, and fix everything that had gone wrong. 
She couldn’t force that all on you now. She couldn’t defend Ingrid, or herself. 
Instead, she placed the letter carefully on the table, and sent Ingrid a very brief text. 
“You need to come home now. Everything is fine, everyone is safe, but you need to come home.”
Instead, Mapi pulled you into her lap, and held you so tight it almost hurt. 
Instead, your sister’s girlfriend, who owed you absolutely nothing, told you, over and over, how very loved you were. How proud she was of you. How her and Ingrid were going to fix everything if it killed them. 
They’d fix everything before it killed you. 
------
🙂
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sleepypanda27 · 3 months
Text
Cold
Bucky x reader
Summary: Bucky helps you warm up.
Words: 1,935
Warnings: fluff, smut
Tumblr media
The last few days, it was constantly raining. Of course, the heaters in Avengers Tower had to break down, and now it felt like the inside was colder than the outside. Cuddled up in your soft blanket on the couch, you were watching TV, not really paying attention to it. You still felt cold even after pulling on multiple layers of clothing.
Bucky walked into the room with a steaming mug in his hand. He wasn't affected by the cold at all. Lucky him.
"Hey doll, I made you tea. Figured you could use something hot." He smiled, giving you the mug, and pecked your forehead.
You took the mug from him and wrapped your fingers around it, bringing it closer to you, taking a small sip, enjoying how the warmth spread through your cold bones. A soft sigh escaped your lips from the delightful feeling.
“Thanks, Buck.” You said, smiling.
“Still cold?” He asked as he sat down beside you, putting his hand around your shoulders.
“I’m freezing. Tony said it will take at least a few more hours to repair the heaters.” You said while sipping tea. “Until then, I have to try not to freeze to death.”
“I think I can help you with that.’’ He said, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Oh really?” You placed the mug on the coffee table in front of you and climbed into his lap, draping the blanket around his shoulders, so you both would be covered with it. “How?” You asked innocently as if you already didn't know.
“I can think of few ways.’’ He moved his hands to your hips, pulling you closer, meeting you for a kiss. You tangled your fingers through his long locks, tugging them when he deepened the kiss, earning a low groan from him. He moved lover, kissing your jaw and settling in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking the exposed skin, while his hands roamed all over your body, making you a panting mess in his lap.
“You are wearing too many clothes, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured against your skin.
“Then do something about it.” You challenged.
He chuckled and found the hem of your hoodie, pulling it off over your head, letting the blanket fall on the couch, leaving you in another sweater.
“Hmm, still too many clothes.” He said, pulling the jumper off.
He looked at you in disbelief after discovering that under the sweater was another - long-sleeved shirt. “How many layers are you wearing?”
“I said I was cold.” You shrugged.
“I should've shown up earlier.” He shook his head before returning to kissing your lips, while his hands slowly worked on your shirt, unbuttoning it. When that was finally done, he pushed the shirt down your shoulders.
“Fuck.” You cursed, breaking the kiss.
“What's wrong?”
“My hand stuck in the stupid sleeve.” You said, struggling to get rid of the annoying shirt. The scene of how you frustrated wiggled in Bucky’s lap made him laugh. When you finally got your hand out of the damn sleeve, you slid your cold hands under his shirt, his muscles tensing under your cold touch.
“Oh my god, Y/n, your hands are so cold.”
“Wait till you see how cold my feet are.”
“How can you live like this?”
“That’s why I have you to keep me warm.”
“Damn right, doll.” He pulled you back into the kiss. His hands found a way under your top, grazing over your back, raising goosebumps on the skin where his metal hand touched it. You didn’t care about cold anymore. You trailed your hands over his chest, resting them on his broad shoulders. Your lips moved down his jaw and neck. He tilted his head for better access, a low moan escaping his lips when you rocked your hips.
“Hey! No, no just…no, stop this.” Sam spoke loudly at first, but at last, words sounded like a disappointed parent.
You both turned your heads towards Sam, who appeared out of nowhere.
“Come on guys, this is a common room, no one wants to see…this..” He gestured dramatically with his hands at both of you.
You shrugged your shoulders, and looked at Bucky with an expression - ‘he’s not wrong’.
Bucky moved his hands under your tights, standing up, lifting you with him, like you were feather-light. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.
“Shut up, pigeon,” Bucky said with a smile, passing Sam on the way to his room.
“Fuck you, Bucket.” Sam retorted back.
“That’s the plan.” You called back before disappearing into the hallway.
"It's like living with horny teenagers," Sam uttered loudly. “Why am I even living here?’’
You both laughed at how easy it was to annoy Sam. After getting into the room, Bucky closed the door behind him with his foot and lowered you onto the bed, settling between your legs.
“Now, where were we?’’ He asked with a mischievous smile, his eyes dark with lust.
“I think somewhere here.’’ You grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down in a passionate kiss. Your hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. It landed somewhere in the room.
His lips moved to your neck, nibbling and sucking while his hands roamed over your body, pulling off your top that joined his shirt somewhere on the floor. Quickly, getting rid of your bra, he sent it flying over his shoulder.
Bucky sat up on his knees. “I think you won't be needing these tonight.” He hooked his fingers behind the waistband of your pants, pulling them off along with your panties, tossing them to the side.
He took your ankle, lifting it, kissing his way up to your inner thigh tortuously slow, ignoring the one place you needed him most. Kissing up to your belly and between the valley of your breasts, he reached your lips, kissing them and biting your bottom lip.
“Hi there.” He smiled. His lips were pink and plump from all the kissing.
“Bucky..” His name, like a moan, escaped your lips. “I need you.”
“I'm right here.” He kissed down your jaw to your neck sucking and nibbling, soothing the place with afterward. His hands roamed all over your body, caressing your breasts. His metal hand created a cold contrast compared to his flesh hand, making your head spin. He took one nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak, he let it go with a loud pop, before doing the same to the other.
Arching your back, needing more, you tangled your fingers in his hair, harshly tugging and bringing him closer. He growled in pleasure, his teeth scraping against your flushed skin.
You could feel his hard length against your tight. You rocked your hips upwards, sliding your hands down along his back, pushing down his sweatpants, and cupping his ass.
“Impatient are we?” He smirked, glancing up at you.
“Bucky, just fuck me already.” You wined, needing to feel him. Those were the words that completely broke him.
You could swear his eyes turned, even more, darker than before, almost swallowing his blue irises. Filled with lust and desire. He instantly got rid of his pants and crashed his lips harshly with yours in a needy, hungry kiss. He lined himself up against your entrance, slowly pushing in. Your mouth fell open, feeling him, letting out a strangled moan. That he quickly silenced with a kiss. Greedily swallowing every little moan from you he could get.
You wrapped your legs around him, rocking your hips, signaling for him to move. To do something. He started moving, pulling almost out, and slamming back in. Your breath hitched in your throat, nails digging into his shoulder blades, leaving half-moon marks on his skin.
He built up a steady pace, his body flush against yours. “Y/n…” He loudly growled, burying his face in the juncture of your neck, when he felt your walls clenching around him.
“Bucky. Ohh…god…don't stop.” Your moans filled the room, and you felt the familiar pleasure building deep inside of you.
He lifted his head, catching your lips in a heated kiss, it's all tongue and teeth. Dragging your nails down his back, you left long, red trails on his skin, making him growl at the feeling.
His hand slipped underneath your thigh, lifting it higher up so he would have better access, slamming deeper and rougher into you, reaching that spot he knew made you see stars.
“Come for me.” He growled as his fingers pressed harder into your skin.
Your eyes fell shut, reaching your release. Bucky's movements became sloppy as he reached his release moments later, your name falling from his lips, like praise. Your legs fell from his hips to the mattress like jelly. His head fell in the crook of your neck, trying to catch his breath while holding himself up so he wouldn't squish you with his body.
Both laid like that for some time, coming down from your highs, sweaty bodies pressed together. His heavy breath tickles your neck.
Bucky lifted his head, brushing his lips against yours. “I love you so much, baby.” He whispered.
“I love you too, Buck.” You mused, brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair.
He smiled, giving you one last kiss and slowly pulled out. You whimpered at the sensitiveness. He settled in bed next to you, cradling you against his chest and holding you tightly. Your head resting on his shoulder. The warmth from his body provided cozy comfort.
“So, did I help you get warmer?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, you did.” You chuckled, tracing invisible shapes on his chest.
“But I have a feeling we'll have to do this again soon.” You pulled the blanket higher up, covering your bodies.
“Or maybe,” He smiled, rolling on top of you. “We could do it again right now, so you wouldn't have time to get cold.” He chuckled, kissing your shoulder, making you giggle.
---
“Morning, sleepyheads. Ready for a run?’’ Steve asked after he and Sam barged into Bucky's room.
Bucky groaned, rubbing his eyes trying to understand what was going on. He looked down at you, cuddled by his side, head resting on his chest and hand across his waist. A smile spread across his face as the memories from the previous night floated up in his mind. He pulled up the blanket covering your body. Tony must have repaired the heat, it felt much warmer than yesterday.
“No, not today.’’ He whispered, not wanting to wake you up.
“Long night?’’ Sam asked, smirking.
“Get lost. Both of you.’’ He growled when he felt you stirring.
Steve laughed and pulled Sam to the door when he started making kissy faces. Bucky grabbed a pillow and threw it at Sam. He barely dodged it and winked before disappearing from the room.
“What did they want?” You asked quietly with half-closed eyes, resting your chin on his chest.
“Morning run. Go back to sleep.’’ He kissed your hair, rubbing your back.
“What time is it?’’ You asked, glancing at the window it was barely light outside, the morning sun had not quite risen yet.
“It’s almost six.’’ He said after looking at the clock on the nightstand.
“They're crazy. Why didn't you go?” You asked, squinting at the light, trying to open your eyes fully.
“I'd much rather stay here with you.” He smiled. “In case you need my help getting warm again.”
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