#i do wish they would put back the add tags button on the bottom of the screen where everything else is

[ao3screenshotss]

[creamsickle-writes]

Robin x F!Reader: Day 4

tags: nsfw, spanking, sex toys (vibrators and anal beads), and slight overstimulation

The waves rock the boat gently as the moon shined through the window. You lay next to your girlfriend, enjoying the feeling of her warmth. You cuddle up to her as she reads to you, the rain outside hitting the windows in perfect rhythm. This scene would’ve been perfectly wholesome if it weren’t for the content of the book she was reading.

“The younger woman trembled as the other woman leered over her, taking her chin in hand, kissing her tenderly…” Robin smiles as she reads the beginning of an erotic scene. Your skin has goosebumps as your partner’s calm voice soothes and arouses you all at the same time.

As Robin continues reading, you begin to feel yourself growing hot. The raven-haired woman’s words get caught in your brain; with every touch she describes, you think of it being you two instead. You desperately wish that Robin would kiss you the way the older woman in the story kissed the younger. You want your breasts to be caressed, your sensitive areas to be stroked- you can’t take it.

Sneakily, you snake your hands between your thighs and begin rubbing your pussy through your pajama pants. You sigh as you work yourself over, Robin not noticing your actions. You knew you’d be punished if she caught you, so you kept your movements gentle to not cause a disturbance.

But you don’t get far; after all, this is Nico Robin you’re talking about; she’s the most observant person you know. No small movement gets past her, and immediately she removes the covers from your body, exposing you. You stiffen up as she closes the book and places it on the bedside table.

“You enjoyed the story, I take it?” She smirks, her fingers tracing your sides as she looks you over.

“It was… really nice.” You say it breathily, all the air in your lungs gone as she looks at you with big blue eyes.

She giggles, sitting up as she leers over you with a glint in her eye.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, darling, but you know the rule.” She pulls the covers down slowly, revealing your form to her, “Now I’ll have to punish you.”

Her hands trail up your thighs before stopping at the hem of your pants. She slides them down gently, treating you as if you were glass. She then goes for your underwear, sliding them down to your knees.

“Take them off the rest of the way and sit across my lap.” She says as she sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for you. You obey, removing the clothing before splaying yourself over her lap.

“How many hits should you take, hm?” She coos, rubbing your bare backside.

“Maybe 5?” You say, looking back at her with begging eyes.

“Let’s try 10.” She smirks before taking her hand, harshly bringing it down on your bottom.

You squeal out as the first spank hits you. The second comes soon after, and you gasp. For some reason, you still didn’t expect the third one when it came. You supposed it was because Robin was unpredictable, hovering her hand over your bottom and only striking after waiting a second too long.

“How many was that, darling girl?”

“T-Three.”

“Good job.” She smiles before spanking you yet again. You tensed in her lap, and she giggled above you.

The next three hits come in quick succession, putting you up to six separate hits now.

“You’re doing so well,” Robin purrs, “How about we add something to the mix?”

She sprouted hands from the nightstand, using them to fish out a vibrator and some anal beads. You gulped as the two toys reached her actual hands, a bottle of lube not far behind in the hand assembly line leading from the nightstand to Robin.

She lubes up the vibrator first. The cool lubricant coats the toy and causes you to shiver when it finally touches your entrance. Robin wordlessly pushes it inside, the toy slowly being swallowed up by your hole. Your bottom lip quivers as it seats itself inside of you. The raven-haired woman presses a button at the base, causing the vibrator to whir to life. You moan openly as the toy stimulates your depths.

“Are you ready to continue?” She purrs, and your toes curl as the seventh hit lands on your behind.

“Robin!” You cry out, the spanking combined with the vibrations being far too much.

“And what about these, hm?” She smiles, and you feel the round bead push against your tight hole. You moan as Robin inserts the first bead. It’s small, but its bigger counterparts soon join in as one bead becomes two, then three, and so on.

You moan loudly as you feel the biggest bead push past the tight ring of muscle. You feel so full as the vibrator rumbles inside you and the beads fill your other hole.

Robin begins toying with the beads, pulling some of them out slowly. She then pushes them back in, a dark chuckle escaping her. This cycle continues on, Robin smiling all the while.

“You’re so cute when you squirm.” She giggles, another hit landing on your backside. As the toys were stuffed inside, you grew desperate as you grew closer to the edge.

“Robin, I’m gonna cum-” you moan, but she simply tsks.

“Not until I finish punishing you.” She grins, delivering another smack. If you were keeping track, you were up to eight smacks now. That meant the punishment would be over soon.

She spanks you again, and you squeal, your legs kicking behind you. You were so desperate, so overwhelmed.- you needed to get off.

“Robin-!” You shout out, and she spanks you again to silence your cries.

“Only one more.” She giggles, “But perhaps I should drag it out?”

You whine at her words, your legs beginning to seize as you get even closer to the edge.

“Please! Please just let me cum!”

“Well,” she smirks, “Since you begged so nicely…”

With that, she delivers the last spank to your bottom. It stings, but you don’t care as your orgasm washes over you. You let out strangled moans as the vibrator buzzes away, still stimulating you through your orgasm.

“Too much-!” You complain, squirming in her lap. Robin only giggles before turning off the toy, leaving you completely stuffed.

“Looks like your punishment is complete,” Robin says, rubbing your bottom to soothe it, “Though I suppose it wasn’t much of a punishment since you were able to finish. Perhaps next time, I should be less forgiving.”

You gulp.

[darlingpetao3]

House of W (Multiple!Wells x Reader, Chapter 9)

Rating: T

Summary: After having to deal with the deaths of an infinite number of Harrison Wells in the Multiverse, you, a magic-wielding meta, have a breakdown and unwittingly create a happy, fictitious sitcom life with some of your favourite men. In a world of comedy and cameos, can Team Flash and an out-of-town magician break through your powers to save you? And what if you don’t want to be saved...?

A/N: Well folks, it’s the final chapter... I’m not sure it’s actually all that great, but here it is and I hope it’s well received, nonetheless! Thanks for coming on this crazy ride with me <3

Tag List: @fandomdancer​ @bluesclues-1234​ @crissymadlock @firstofficer-tilly​ @disneyoncerlover815​ @marvel-lady10 @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @noctvrnalmoth​ @alexxlynn @dontbedumb3​ @heyl0lwhatsup @ryou-cosmos​ @arianalilyblack​ @sonnensplitter​ @imagine-yourself-happy​ @stuckysdaughter​ @wintersire @i-dont-care-lol​ @booksandfandomsarelife1 @marvelhastakenovermybeing​ @marisughh​

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8

Eobard Thawne clutches his fist down beside him, surely feeling the surge of Speed Force energy running through his entire body once more. He looks like he’s just taken a hit of the most addictive drug—eyes flashing a dangerous crimson, his whole being vibrating at the speed of sound before everyone’s eyes.

The Reverse Flash turns to Libby and Belle—who both remain frozen in place out of sheer shock after realizing that this man isn’t who he claimed to be—and gives them one of his iconic shit-eating grins.

“Thank you, girls,” he says smugly. “I couldn’t have achieved any of this without you. The next time I have your real uncle under my boot, I’ll think of you wonderful girls.”

“What have we done…?” Belle whispers rhetorically to her sister. A speechless Liberty only shakes her head in reply.

Eobard locks eyes with Barry, who stands in the doorway to the kitchen. The villain smirks before he bolts off, running upward along the diminishing forcefield wall and out through one the holes forming in it. Barry watches on as he decides to let his adversary go. He’s learned by now it’s never the last time he’ll see Eobard Thawne. That bastard always seems to find a way back into everyone’s lives. He’s like a cockroach that won’t stay dead.

Yes… Barry will come face to face with the Reverse Flash again. He may not know when, but when he does, he’ll be ready.

Because right now, you need him.

Your world is falling apart.

Again.

The forcefield continues to fall slowly from above. Your time is limited. You know that in mere minutes, everything will disappear, including the people you love. 

“Mom, we’re so, so sorry,” Belle tells you desperately. “We thought he was just teaching us how to perfect our powers. It felt like a game!”

“My dear, sweet girls,” you look them straight in the eyes as you explain to them, “I assure you both, it’s not your fault. Okay? You had no idea who he really was or what he was capable of. It’s not your fault, do you understand me?” They nod through their tears. “You two may have grown up incredibly fast, far too fast for my liking, in fact, but I am so thrilled that you were- are mine. You will always be my little girls. No matter what.”

“Thank you for being our mom,” Liberty says to you in all seriousness.

“No one is cooler or stronger than you,” Belle adds with a smile very reminiscent of her fathers’. If these two aren’t careful, you’re going to completely lose it in front of them.

Off in the distance, you spot Barry watching this heartfelt scene play out. You wave him over to meet his nieces, so he can see what you’ve created for yourself up close and personal. Libby and Belle should meet their real uncle, a true hero, before they’re…

Barry places a hand each on the girls’ shoulders. See, Barry? They’re real. And I’ll lose them too. Do you feel my pain now? This is what I live through all the time.

Barry’s eyes begin to glisten until the tiny bulbs of tears hold still, unwilling to fall just yet.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you both,” he tells them. “You’re both such bright stars.” They give bittersweet smiles up at him in silence. You don’t think they fully understand what will come to pass in mere minutes, but you do. You can feel it in your bones.

Barry steps back from your family unit so that you all can have one more last moment together. You take this final opportunity to bring your girls in close for a tight hug, letting a sob escape you despite trying to keep it together for your family. You wave a hand over to your husbands as if to gesture for them to get in on this family group hug, and quickly. They do so promptly, all four of them enveloping you, Liberty, and Belle as if to form a loving hug shield.

“I love you,” you make sure to say these three precious words, making eye contact to each and every one of those you have magicked into being here with you today… before they disintegrate before your very eyes.

And soon enough, you can’t even feel them anymore. The forcefield has vanished within the Lab’s basement, along with the Wells and the twins.

You cry. You shake and your body wracks with the sort of sobs that hurt your throat. Barry makes sure he holds you tightly. Caitlin approaches carefully and ends up holding your hand. Then it’s Cisco who puts his own hand on your shoulder as everyone else in the room looks on at your despair.

***

After some much-needed rest in the Medbay, you awake to a spookily quiet Labs. You’re not sure of the time (or day, even), but regardless, you figure it’s best to head home. Goodness knows it’s probably still in shambles. That’ll need to be fixed.

You heave a sigh as you leave the Cortex.

“Come on, you can sigh louder than that.”

You turn around to find the unexpected voice belonging to Zatanna. You imagine she must have had to recoup as well from the amount of magic she would have used to break through to your world.

“Oh, hey,” you say tiredly. “I take it you’re on your way, then?”

“Yeah, I have a show in Coast City in two days, so I better head off.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry to have brought you into all this madness.”

“No, please. If anything, I should thank you as well as offer my condolences... Your magic is something I've never seen before. Honestly, I’m still intrigued by it.” Zatanna hesitates. “Would it be weird if I gave you my contact information? I don’t come across many others with true magic. I’d love to keep in touch. Maybe we could learn from each other?”

“Yes, of course,” you agree. “I think that’s a great idea.” She hands you her card—a glittery black business card with her name and number.

“So, hey,” she says, “You going to be okay?”

You take a few seconds to think her question over.

“I think, in time, I could be,” you answer truthfully.

“I know it may not be much,” Zatanna says, “but one of my powers involves granting wishes. Before I go, is there anything I can do for you? You’ve been through so much. I’ve seen it. And everybody has something they're hoping for. Something they wish they could change…” She pauses, waiting for your answer, but also seems distracted. You wonder what kind of life this woman has led. What has she done in her past that she regrets or wishes for from the bottom of her heart?

“I only wish for Harrison Wells to be in my life,” you answer honestly. Is that so much to ask for? It seems to be that way.

“Is that what your heart most desires?”

You sigh. “More than anything.”

There’s another pause.

“You know, sometimes you’ll find that our wishes come true on their own, even without magic,” the magician points out ominously.

“That’s code for “I just can’t make that wish come true,” isn’t it?” you joke, somewhat.

“The people that we love—they’re only gone when we stop carrying them with us. How you choose to carry Harrison Wells is up to you.”

You let that sink in and press a hand to your heart. He will always be here with you. Right here. You’ll make sure of it.

“I wish you all the luck and magic in the world, (Y/N),” Zatanna says kindly. “It was nice to meet you.”

You nod in thanks, unsure of how to respond to that. With her aged, thick book under her arm, Zatanna Zatara walks down the S.T.A.R. Labs corridor, but you swear her body vanishes before she rounds the corner…

Despite all the trouble you’ve put her through—everyone, really—with all of this, you can still take comfort in the act of making a new friend.

As you walk through the empty hallways of the Labs, you make it to where the elevator lies. You go to press the button to summon the machine when a ding sounds before your finger even touches the button. The doors slide open, and the face that greets you shocks you to your very core.

“Hello, there,” he says.

In fact, you are so stunned that you take a step back, but in doing so, you stumble and begin to topple over. Luckily, a certain someone’s quick arms catch you in time.

The face you know all too well, Harrison Wells, that is, glows with a calm happiness as he looks down at you in his arms. Behind immaculate see-through frames, his pretty blues eyes twinkle like the stars. He smiles like he knows you. You stare up in disbelief, in relief, and in love.

“Hello… Harrison.”

[coltsbitch]

do u think Colt is a soft boy?

do i think Colt ‘soft boy’ Grice is SOFT?!?! let me just...

practiced with pieck for how he would ask you out. but he made pieck play him and he was you, so he could put himself in your shoes as pieck read from the speech he had on a notecard

brings you a plant on your first date. stumbles over his words as he apologizes that it’s not flowers, but thought you’d like this better. plus now he has a reason to text you in the morning to water it

leaves you sticky notes, but not in obvious places, like opens your text books eight chapters away, or inside your winter jacket even though it’s summer. writes the date because he wants you to know he was thinking about you then

always brings a second sweatshirt for when you get cold, but he still gives you the one he’s wearing because he knows you like the warmth and smell of the one from his body

movie theatres are his favorite because what’s better than snuggling in a dark room as you giggle against his shoulder?

prepped his friends with topics when he brought you around the first time. just wanted to make sure you would feel included in any conversation. porco read straight from his notecard in front of you

a picture of you and falco is his lock screen

has a box for all of your memories, pictures, movie stubs, a flower you gave him, print out of his favorite texts. working on making a scrapbook but is too overwhelmed to start because he doesn’t want to mess it up

has your exam schedule written in his planner so he can send you a good luck text

learned how to make your favorite snack from scratch. this man is literally baking crackers, dehydrating fruit, doesn’t matter what, he’s figuring it out and putting it into tupperware for you

never shuts up about you to his friends. definitely repeats stories, pieck smiles and nods along even if it’s the third time she’s heard about the upcoming picnic he’s planning when the weather turns, while porco bangs his head on the table

wrote down all your hair/skin care products and bought duplicates for his place. you were so suspicious because who tf are these? until he told you that he wants you to be able to spend the night and not worry

has a journal of your important dates together. first time he realized he liked you. anniversaries. first time you met falco. when you told him you loved him. doesn’t necessarily celebrate them all, but just likes to know

goes out of his way to get to know those important to you, messaging and calling them. literally you’ll be telling your friend something exciting and they’ll deadass be like, oh colt already told me

will watch/read/listen to whatever you’re into at the moment because he wants to be apart of your excitement. doesn’t matter if it’s 1000 pages or episodes (i’m looking at you, one piece)

will fix anything! reattaches the clasp of your necklace, fixies your leaky faucet, sews a button back on your coat, built you a new nightstand because your old one wobbled too much

affirms you everyday. tells you what a strong person you. how you make everyone’s day better for just existing. you’re a genuine friend

porco has to take his phone when they go to the bars because all colt does is drunk text you about how cute you are and how lucky he is. and then instead he’ll just start word vomiting about you which annoys the shit out of porco who is trying to use colt as a wingman, but all colt does is make these potential hook ups wish colt was the single one

found a stray puppy in an alleyway and named it peanut because it was so malnourished and tiny. nursed it back to health and now colt has a hundred pound beast of a dog

never wakes you up when he’s carrying you to bed, is so gentle as he sets you down and tucks you in

drives a minivan. likes to be able to drive falco and the kids around, also wants to be able to take all his friends places in one car. it just makes sense to him

so fucking nervous when you and falco first met. planned an afternoon at the arcade hoping it would be a good middle ground. wasn’t sure if he was more nervous falco wouldn’t like you, or you would be annoyed by his kid brother. but of course falco and you teamed up on him in laser tag and you even helped falco win a stuffed lion that sits on his bed everyday

assistant coach to falco’s baseball team. you’re still unsure if you’re swooning at his gentleness with the kids or the ridiculous sexy baseball pants zeke makes him wear on game day

sews all the halloween costumes for falco, gabi, udo, and zofia. literally starts in the summer and doesn’t even complain when they want to change the theme a week before

dreams about retiring with you and sitting in rocking chairs on your porch

NSFW

doesn’t matter if he’s on top, bottom, or behind you, wants his entire body pressed against you

if you’re feeling it and want to pin him down, he’ll look up at you with the biggest doe eyes and deepest blush you have ever seen

sensitive nipples

moan. moan. moan. he’s so loud. it was cute at first but now you usually have to stuff your fingers in his mouth or kiss him to shut him up

his sex is not orgasm or penetrative centric. he just wants feel you. could mean he’s getting you off with his hands and mouth, and maybe he’s not cumming every time but that’s not important because he just got to spend an hour embraced in your warmth and that’s more than enough

fingers always intertwined

cries during sex sometimes, just so overwhelmed with how much he loves you and that you’re here

changes the bedsheets while you’re in the shower, likes to fall asleep in crisp clean sheets with your soft body tucked under his chin

cuddle king. likes to keep his hands on you afterwards so he’s always offering a massage, even looked up videos of how to work out the knots in your back

run your fingers through his hair and he’s putty in your hands

whispers praises when you think he thinks you’re asleep. when you tell him you’re awake, ‘why do you think i’m saying it?’

sleepy and slow morning sex is his favorite

add on if you agree colt is soft!!

[achubbydumpling]

Form your previous tags: "Nomad Steve fucks you from behind with his belly brushing the small of your back" 👀🥴

I feel like Bucky would love this increasingly chubby Steve visiting him in Wakanda and doing exactly that.

aww you actually read what I ramble about in the tags (on this post) 🥺

also I think I should rename my chubtober to "catching up with asks"-tober because that's like all I've been doing 😂 anyway I'm using a wild card prompt for this one even though I have ideas for the actual prompt of Goosebumps and Chills, (I'm just too tired to write anything new right now 😅)

Oct 4: Bulging Bellies and Love Handles

so, yess absolutely Bucky would love it

"I thought you were smaller," Bucky says when he sees Steve for the first time after cryo

Steve has filled out a bit, his waist was visibly thicker, he looks sturdy in his suit, strong, robust, grounded in a way despite the uncertainty radiating off him

Steve had spent the last few weeks in Wakanda after Shuri told him, she had a plan on how to undo the trigger words

but the Wakandan food was not entirely to blame for his weight gain

Steve has one vice: he has a massive sweet tooth

pre-serum he'd never been able to indulge in it the way he wanted because too much sugar made him sick

but then while worrying about Bucky and if Shuri's plan would work he'd eaten every sugary thing in sight

milk puddings and fried dough, hard candies, toasted waffles for breakfast, lunch and dinner when he first discovered them, full-sized candy bars hidden in all his pockets, even though they're always slightly melted from a combination of his increased body temperature and the hot weather

so yes Bucky can tell that Steve gained a bit of weight when he sees him again

the first time Bucky sees Steve he's wearing the nomad suit and it does a pretty good job of hiding the way his belly is puffing up and starting to actually curve out even when he isn't full from a day of eating

Steve gets to stay with Bucky in Wakanda for a week before an emergency means he has to leave for a few days, which turns into a few weeks

when Steve comes back after three weeks the suit is struggling a bit more to hide the new chub he's accumulated

the mission turned out way less physically demanding than expected and Steve had spent most of his days eating while listening to the bugs they'd planted on the target

the bit of softness around his middle has turned into an actual belly when Steve returns to Wakanda

his gut is still contained pretty well by his suit, even though it had been harder and harder to put on with every new pound

Bucky isn't sure if it's just a trick of the light though, the material seems to be straining more to contain Steve, but Bucky isn't sure if that's actually the case or if it's just wishful thinking

the only way to know is to get Steve out of that suit

Bucky wants to take his time, but when he goes to unbuckle Steve's belt he can't help, but notice that it's on its last notch

and once he's unbuckled the belt, he can see the buttons on Steve's trousers straining to stay closed and the fabric pulled tight over his thighs

excitemet bubbles up in Bucky's chest like a kid on Christmas he's unwrapping his present without any care for the wrapping paper

when Bucky pulls the trousers over Steve's thick thighs he can hear the seams creaking in protest

but it doesn't matter when Steve is just as eager to get out of his clothes

he kicks his boots off while Bucky works on removing the armour on Steve's upper body

when he finally finds the zipper, Bucky can't help but trace his fingers over it, the zipper is absolutely straining to stay closed

Bucky barely touches the zipper and it starts opening on it's own, Steve's gut surges forward

how did Steve even manage to close the zipper this morning? how did it stay closed the entire day?

(haha I'm just picturing this fanart, chunky hunk Steve :D)

Bucky goes absolutely wild for the belly, he's been imagining for weeks what Steve will look like after gaining more weight

he did not anticipate an actual belly that's already starting to get a bit of an overhang, the soft underside in contrast with his rounder and more firm upper belly

and normally when they haven't seen eachother for some time, they're all sweet with eachother the first time back, lots of eye contact and whispered confessions of how much they missed each other

but this time Bucky is on the bed presenting his ass like a bitch in heat before Steve can even ask what's gotten into him because Bucky is that feral for Steve right now

Steve quickly gets with the program, he's barely a knuckle deep in Bucky before he can't help himself but tease a bit about Bucky's eagerness

"What's got you going like this? Hm, the beard?"

Steve is draped Bucky's back, practically rubbing his face all over the back of Bucky's neck with his belly resting on his lower back

"The hair?" Steve asks and grinds against Bucky, pressing his middle even harder against his back

Bucky pushes himself back against Steve, he shakes his head, but instead of an actual answer Steve forces a low groan out of him when he pushes another lubed up finger inside him

"What is it then?" Steve asks, almost casually dragging his dick between Bucky's cheeks and over his own fingers, buried in Bucky's hole, like he's not just as desperate to fill Bucky up

"Need you," is all Bucky can say, he adds a breathy, "please"

Bucky doesn't have to ask twice, Steve pulls his fingers out slowly and before Bucky can whine about the loss, Steve pushes right back in with his dick

the stretch sets nerve endings on fire all the way up his body and Bucky collapses forward from leaning on his elbow to his chest being flush with the bed, his hand is fisted into the sheets

Steve goes slow, but Bucky keeps slightly circling his hips, not pushing back, but moving just enough that Steve wants to grab his hips and pull Bucky onto his dick

when he finally bottoms out, Steve sits up from where he had been leaning on Bucky

but even with his back straight Bucky can still feel the ghost of Steve's belly on his his lower back

Bucky is about to tell Steve just that when he starts moving

he pulls out slightly and the movement send tiny sparks of pleasure flying, that turn any current sentence into an appreciative groan

he doesn't think he'll last very long tonight, but he isn't too worried about it because Steve is on the same page as him

his fingers are doing into Bucky's hips and he pulls Bucky back as much as he drives his hips forward

and every time Steve buries himself in Bucky, he can feel Steve's belly on his lower back, just barely there, but definitely brushing over his skin there

Bucky can't take it much longer, he's half lying on his chest and shoulder, his neck is at a slightly awkward angle as he snakes his hand down his front and wraps it tightly around his own cock

he intends to hold himself off from coming right away, but as soon as he gets his hand on himself, Bucky starts fucking into it with the same rhythm Steve is setting

"Steve," he mewls and of course Steve understands right away

"Just a bit longer, baby." He picks up his pace and really starts slamming into Bucky, the filthy noise of Steve's hips slapping against Bucky's ass make him moan with every thrust

"'m so close, a little longer, Buck" Steve keeps repeating the last part

and hearing his name in Steve's lips as he falls apart, just drives Bucky closer to the edge

Bucky meets Steve's next thrust and instead of pulling back again Steve falls forward and drives himself as deeply into Bucky as he can

his entire weight is resting on Bucky's back and his soft belly is pressed against Bucky's back

Steve comes with a shout and Bucky actively starts jerking himself off to follow over that edge just a few moments later

they stay like that for a minute, just coming back to themselves and enjoying the closeness before they become aware of the sticky sweat on their bodies drying

Steve drags his face over the back of Bucky's neck like a cat and purrs into his ear, "so, it is the belly"

[sarya-lavellan]

Take Me

Fandom: Dragon Age/Modern AU

Pairing: Solavellan

Rating: E

Word Count: 2158

Tags: cunnilingus, some dom/sub play, some body worship, they both have a praise kink

AO3

—

She twists the ring on her finger. The light glints off the large square sapphire lined with tiny diamonds. Glancing around her before she enters the hotel bar, she yanks her ring off and deposits it in the front pocket of her purse. She tosses her flaming curls over her shoulder and smoothes her white blouse, undoing an extra button before throwing open the lounge door. She slips in unnoticed. Wanders over to the soft light of the bar, sticking to the shadowed end farthest from the restroom. As she waits for the bartender to make her way over, she checks her makeup in her compact. She touches up her deep burgundy lipstick, snaps her compact closed, then smiles up at the bartender.

“I’ll have a whiskey, neat.”

The bartender smiles that fake smile of every worker who’s had enough, does. “Coming right up.”

“Thank you,” she says.

Swiveling in her stool, she folds one leg over the other and surveys the room. Her eyes fall on the man playing piano. He’s seemingly lost in the enchanting melody coming off his fingertips. His tall frame sways with the tune and she watches, mesmerized. He finishes the piece and she gives a small clap. Catching her gaze as he stands, he grants her an alluring smile before coming her way.

“That was beautiful,” she tells him.

“Surely not as beautiful as you.”

Her cheeks feel warm. “You flatter me.”

“I am merely stating the truth.”

“Merely?”

“Declaring it then.”

She smirks. Her heart is already thrumming wildly. He’s good. She’ll give him some credit for that. “I’m Sarya,” she offers her hand.

He takes it, suavely planting a kiss on her knuckles.

“Solas.”

She shivers under his silky intonation and his undivided attention. Then he drops her hand and she curls her manicured fingers around her glass. Sarya takes a sip from her drink as the bartender returns. There’s a part of her that wishes she’d asked for something chilled.

“I will have the same as her,” he says.

Sarya adds, “put it on my tab.”

“Sure thing,” the bartender throws her a wink and a dazzling smile.

Sarya runs a finger round the rim of her glass. Leans in towards Solas as he does the same, knees bumping into one another.

“I do not believe I have seen you here before.”

She’s trying not to think about his knee against hers or the way his lips are so close. But he’s gorgeous in that nonchalant way. The more you stare, the more his attractiveness reveals itself. The smallest dimple in his chin. The faint freckles scattered across his face and the mysterious scar above his brow that only appears when the light hits it just so. The angle of his jaw and perfect pillowy lips. Even his baldness suits him, juxtaposed with all his angles.

“What if I told you I was a regular?”

“Then you must not frequent at this hour.”

“Why do you say that?”

His hand comes to rest on her knee as he leans even closer. Whispers in her ear. “I would have noticed long before tonight.”

“Well, I–“ She clears her throat, downs her shot. At least now she can blame the burn on the alcohol and not his touch.

“Are you staying here?” he asks.

The bartender sets his glass down before him. Refills Sarya’s glass. “Thank you.” There’s a nod before the bartender takes off for a man waving her down at the other end.

“I am,” Sarya says. “I’m here on business.” She can’t stop staring into his eyes. The way he listens when she speaks. The way he makes her feel wanted. “Would you like to accompany me to my room?”

“Yes,” he says and she finishes her drink. “Room 501. Meet me in ten.” She slides her extra keycard over to him. Then she leaves more than enough cash for their drinks and a tip and sashays out of the room.

—

There’s a knock and the door opens.

“I see you found the room easy enough.” Sarya doesn’t bother to tie her silken robes, allowing him to drink in the sight of her. She wears a matching set of soft pink lace which reveals more than enough. He wants her naked already anyway.

“I did.” The door closes with a hushed click behind him.

He doesn’t hesitate at the door. He has no shame, no shyness, only cool confidence. She takes one, then two steps forward. Meets him in the middle of the room and hooks her fingers around his tie, thumb skimming along silk as she gives a tug. He doesn’t stumble. He’s all too familiar with following the lead. He’s maybe an inch away from her lips, his breath laced with alcohol.

“Perhaps I should wait until we’re both sober.”

She releases the tie. One step backward.

“No. I know what I’m doing. So long as you consent and still want the same thing?”

“Yes. Yes I want this. Though I should be honest…”

His expression remains unchanged. Patient.

“I’m a married woman.”

“And for me to judge you would make me a hypocrite.”

He closes the distance between them once again.

“I see,” she whispers.

“What do you require of me–Sarya?”

“For you to touch me. To adore me. To–“ She doesn’t get the chance to finish her words. His lips are on hers and his hands are greedy, grasping for every inch of exposed skin.

She shimmies out of her robe then her fingers work at his tie. They’re a mess of frenzied kisses and erratic breaths as she tries to yank off his shirt. But it gets a little stuck and they both chuckle as he has to do it for her.

“It’s always a seamless transition to being naked in the movies. Sadly I’ve never mastered the same flawlessness.”

“It’s movie magic,” he tells her.

Then he pushes the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

His eyes roam over her body. And she almost covers her stomach where it sags and the stretch marks branch out in white lines. It’s good that she doesn’t or he’d have to yank her hands away. He wants to be gentle. She blushes under his gaze. So pretty and so pink. But Solas doesn’t look at her like those lines are some kind of failing on her part. No, they are a part of her beauty and what defines her as well, her. Instead, he kneels before her and kisses just below her breasts and all across her stomach. His hands slide up her back, fingers feeling for her bra clasp. The pressure of the elastic releases and her breasts spill from the bottom before his fingers rake down her arms and remove the damned thing altogether.

His hand cups one of them and he takes a singular nipple between his teeth. A nibble, a lick and he draws one into his mouth then lets it fall out, admiring the small bounce before stilling against her chest. Both her nipples are hard now, though he’s only tasted the one.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs as his gaze flicks back to her face. Then he takes the neglected breast in hand, lavishing it with just as much attention. Making sure to show no favoritism.

“What does that mean?” she asks. “When you say that?”

He stops what he’s doing to take her chin in hand. Searches those ocean blue eyes of her. “It means I am in awe of you. I could get lost in the visual worship of you–that your image is burned into my memory and whenever I am hopeless, I can remember that you exist and I had the privilege of dwelling within your existence.”

“Well–fuck.” Her hands cling to his neck and she tugs him forcefully to her lips.

He pushes away. Licks his lips. “Sarya?”

“Hmm?”

“May I have the pleasure of tasting you?”

“You can have the pleasure of doing whatever the fuck you want to me so long as praise keeps falling from your lips.”

He chuckles. Then removes her lace thong. His hand trails down her stomach, down past her curly thatch of hair and his fingers are spreading her folds and—he hesitates. Glances back up to see her swallow. Relishes in her anticipatory gaze. Her eyes look heavy beneath her lashes. Full of such longing and impatience. Then she groans as he dips his chin between her legs and licks in long languid strokes.

“Do you like this or–“ he switches to a circular motion with his tongue, “this?”

“That–definitely that,” she murmurs.

He buries himself in her. Surrounds himself in her scent. Succumbs to her flavor and loses himself to those delightful sounds she’s making. She’s close, he can tell and it’s his cue to slide one finger inside.

“More,” she demands.

Of course he obliges with a second finger. Curls them together and he gasps when she grasps the tip of his ears.

“Faster,” she says. “Gods I’m almost–“ She cuts her own words off with a whimper as he brings her over the precipice. Then tips her over the edge.

He pulls back, wiping her slick from his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he looks up to her as she releases his ears. Kneels down before him and grabs each side of his face, nearly tackling him to the ground, flooding him with kisses and touches.

With his back against the floor, each of her legs straddles him and she’s got one hand wrapped around his cock while the other digs into his shoulder. He slips inside so easily and she rides him with a pace that he’s not sure he can keep up with.

“Sarya–fuck–I’m–“

“Not yet, Solas. Don’t come for me yet. Hold up just a little longer. Can you do that for me?”

“Mmm, yes,” he groans. And he doesn’t think it’s a lie.

She loses herself and he watches. Those orange curls flopping around just above her breasts. Open and arched and exposed for him. And she is everything–everything like this.

“So beautiful,” he finds himself muttering over and over. If he focuses on the words, he can maintain the control she needs.

But then she cups his balls and– “come for me. Come for me now, Solas.”

He is nothing but at the mercy of her command. He lets out a shattering cry and spends himself inside her. The way she clenches and squeezes, sends him spiraling in an overload of sensation.

“Good boy,” she says to him then kisses him again. Hard and soft at the same time. And he wants more of this–more of her.

Eventually she slides off and helps him to his feet, dragging him to bed for another go. And then another.

It’s hours before the lights are turned off and they are tangled together for sleep.

“That was fun,” she says curled up against his chest.

“Yeah? I thought so too. You played your part well.”

“Thanks. So did you.” She pauses.

“Hmm–I sense some critique is coming.”

“Not about you! Mmm no, you–you were wonderful. Especially all those smooth lines. Reminds me that you’d get me in bed every time.” She glances up at him to see his smug smirk and it makes her smile too. “I just–do you think it was believable?”

“I think we may have fooled the bartender.”

“I don’t think the bartender gave a shit about us,” Sarya says with a laugh and Solas kisses her head.

“I think the most unbelievable aspect was that you trusted me so quickly and left me with your keycard minutes after we had supposedly just met.”

“Damn.” She lets out a disappointed huff of breath. “You’re right. Can’t say my greatest skills are in acting. Was probably weird we didn’t go up together too. Oh and we missed some fun opportunities! Like making out in the hallway a little? Or getting handsy in the elevator?” Her fingers trail down his chest.

“I suppose we will simply have to try that out next time.”

“Guess so.” She kisses his chest then. “Mmm. Can I admit something?”

“Of course.”

“I miss our kids.”

He chuckles. “Me too, vhenan. I think that is a good thing.”

“But I also like this. It was so nice to be loud and not be half worried the whole time.”

“I agree.” Solas gently combs his fingers through the curls splayed out on the pillow.

Sarya snuggles in closer, lifting her head to meet his loving gaze. She kisses him deeply. When they finally part, too tired to keep it going, she happily sighs.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan,” Solas says in a sleepy hush.

She lets out a small yawn. “I love you too. So much.”

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Be Mine

For: @sweetcannolicarisi Candy Hearts Bingo. A request from the lovely @beccabarba who requested this:

<Hi beautiful! 🥰 Miguel Galindo would very much like to feature in your Candy Heart Bingo, 'Be Mine' square. ❤ Reader is flirting with him, pushing the teasing a bit far. It's Valentine's Day and she sends him an anonymous card saying, 'be mine.' Next day he invites her to visit in the evening for a drink and asks her if the card was from her, when she confesses, he tells her she can *be his* and then he shows her what that means, in bed... which is what she wanted all along! 🔥>

Hope this hits the spot love x

Bingo square: Be Mine.

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x reader.

Warnings: Roughish Smut. Hair tug, knee humping.

WC: 2072

Enjoy x

When he added you on Facebook and liked your last photo you posted you were surprised that the Cartel Boss had even noticed you in your Uncle’s crowded home. You were Marcus’s niece and he had invited Miguel over when he was having a small get together. Of course you were all welcoming, especially your cousin. But his eyes followed you as you walked through the room, he watched as your black BoHo Mexican off the shoulders dress hugged to your breasts and waist flowing over your body. How your curled hair flowed down on your side pony tail with a red rose clipped in it. He watched on as you showed respect for the older members of the family, your smile lighting up your face, when all your cousin could do was try to stick her tits in his face and run her hand up his thigh under the table.

So, to say you were shocked at the friend request and the private message was an understatement. The messages of course started off innocent and friendly, up until one night when you were out with your single friends and a group of cousins for the night before Valentine’s Day and you were tagged in a photo in a short black leather shirt and a yellow silk plunging neck line shirt tucked in, with black peep toed heels.

No sooner had the photo been posted your phone vibrated with a very flirty message from Miguel, of course you replied. You told your friends about the messages and they pulled you out of the club pulling you to a bodega making you buy a small white card with love hearts around its corners. Your friend had a pen in the car and you simply wrote,

“Be Mine xx”

Your friends drove up to the Galindo house, one of them jumping out putting the card in the mail box and driving away,

“They have camera’s you know. It’s Galindo estate” you rolled your eyes.

“You didn’t get out so don’t worry about it, just invite us to the wedding.” Your friend nudged you.

You woke up the next morning to multiple messages from Miguel, wishing you a Happy Valentine’s Day and asking if you would like to come to the estate the following night for dinner and a drink. You accepted his invite glad you had a full day of work ahead that day and tomorrow giving you something else to think about other than the handsome Cartel Boss and being alone with him.

You got home from work later on in the afternoon that next day, a smile stuck to your face after you got a message during your lunch break,

“Looking forward to tonight x”

After showering, doing your hair and makeup you picked a caramel colour skirt that had a wrap bow waist and a black form fitting short sleeved t shirt tucked in and slides. You got into your car making the drive up to the Galindo estate nervous not just because of Miguel, but seeing your uncle as well, wondering what he would think.

You arrived at the gates and they started to open as soon as you drove up. You drove down the drive way scanning for the well known Galindo vehicles seeing none, not even seeing your Uncle’s in the yard. You drove close to the front door putting your car in park and getting out walking to the big wooden door. You pressed the doorbell taking in a deep breath as the door opened and your heart jumped into your throat.

Miguel was in a black button down tucked into grey pants with his sleeves rolled up and his buttons undone down his chest, his neck on full show,

“Y/N” Miguel smiled “How are you? Come in” He stepped aside so you could walk in “You look amazing”

“Thank you” you walked in a little turning to look at him “You look very handsome”

Miguel lent over giving you a kiss on the cheek,

“Thank you for coming”

“Thank you for having me. Mi Tio?” you smiled slightly at him.

“I gave him the night off. He is a good man, he needs rest” Miguel’s hand went to the small of your back guiding you into the large living room leading out to an even larger patio overlooking the hills.

“Wow. What a beautiful view” your eyes were wide looking out the doors.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Water please”

“Water?” Miguel scoffed back playful “I didn’t ask you to come up here for water Y/N”

“I have to drive” you shot back with a grin.

“We can work that out later”

You nodded and watched Miguel walk over to the kitchen whimpering softly looking at his ass in his well fitted pants.  Miguel walked behind the kitchen bench moving around grabbing different things to make you a gin and tonic and a whiskey for himself. He started to walk back over to you, drinks in hand with a confident cocky swagger.

“Come, we can sit outside. Dinner won’t be long”

As you walked outside you saw the beautiful black iron and glass top table. Miguel walked over to a chair putting the drinks down on the table, pulling out a chair for you and then moved to another chair next to you sitting down,

“How was work? You’re a nurse?” Miguel looked over at you.

“Yes emergency, it was good, busy though. A lot of heat related cases today. Your day?”

“Same as any other. Although one thing was different”

Miguel reached into his pocket pulling something out and throwing it on the table. You tried to keep a straight face sitting your glass on the table reaching for the white card with hearts around its edges and reading it again. You giggled slightly and sat the card back on the table,

“Seems like you have an admirer Mr Galindo”

“Seems I do” Miguel lent onto the table “Guess I’ll have to do some digging around”

“I’ am pretty sure you have the man power for that. Maybe you can add them on Facebook once you find out who it is” You grinned reaching for your drink.

You heard the scrap of his chair on the tiles and before you had a chance to take a breath Miguel turned the chair with you on it to face him, his hands resting on the arms of the outdoor chair, his face almost on yours,

“Y/N” his voice was low and face soft but his tone was matter a fact. Your eyes scanned up over his bearded chin, over his pink lips up into his eyes, the glint in them kicking into your centre and you squeezed your thighs together “Is that card from you?”

“N-no” you took in a deep breath and Miguel raised an eye brow at you, his eyes boring straight into you “Yes- ok yes. It’s from me. My friend put it in the mail box on the way home from the club the other night”

Miguel lent forward his lips ghosting yours, his beard almost running along your chin and you gasped,

“As beautiful as you are, being out dressed like that” Miguel nudged his knee between yours pushing your legs apart “Having your pick of anyone at the club” Miguel had brought his knee all the way to the edge of the chair pushing your skirt up slightly “A friend drove you up here to put a note in my mail box” Miguel stood up off you, nudging his knee completely between your legs, your skirt riding all the way up, his knee resting at your clothed core bent on the chair and Miguel seen you bite your bottom lip closing your eyes briefly.

“Yes” you moaned loud when he pushed into your core with more pressure.

“You could have told me over message” Miguel rubbed his knee over you.

“I was trying to be sweet” you breathed out heavy, your hands balling into fists on your lap.

“You don’t need to try hard” Miguel ran his finger down your jaw his knee pushing into your centre again “You didn’t need to ask me to be mine when you already are”

In a heartbeat Miguel pulled his knee away from you, grabbed your hand and pulled you up into him. Your skirt was still up above your hips, his hands going straight to your ass cheeks kneading them through your lace panties your hands threading into his bearded cheeks. Your lips crashed together for a rough and deep kiss. Miguel pulled away his pupils fully blown,

“Show me what it likes to be yours Miguel”

Miguel growled and pulled you upstairs to his bedroom. There was a trail of clothing leading up the stairs into Miguel’s bedroom. Miguel was kissing down your neck as you stood with the back of your legs resting on the edge of the bed, his beard marking you, his lips rested just below your collar bone above your breast and he started to nip and suck hard on the spot, running one hand down between your legs running two fingers through your sleek folds covering his fingers with your wet before they plunged into your warm wet centre, your fingers threading into his hair tugging slightly. Miguel started driving his fingers into you twisting his fingers up so his palm was pushing onto your clit,

“Yes Miguel just like that. Don’t stop” you groaned.

Miguel pulled off your skin with a rough pop, looking at the purple mark he left on you grinning with hooded eyes. You ran one hand down to his long hard cock wrapping your hand around it stroking him feeling his pre-cum coat your hand.

“Show me Miguel” you groaned loud and breathless.

Miguel’s eyes narrowed at you, pulling his finger out of you and he pushed you down on the bed by your shoulders. Miguel walked over to his bedside table opening the top drawer opening and rolling on protection. Miguel as back crawling over you. He grabbed both your wrists in his bringing them together in one hand pinning them up above your head. He then grabbed your thigh throwing it over his shoulder pushing himself forward so your knee was up near your chin,

“Still want to be mine baby girl? Miguel purred, the head of his covered cock at your centre.

“Yes Miguel yes”

Miguel snapped his hips forward hard, your back arching off the bed as he hit your sweet spot first go from the angle he had you in. Miguel pulled almost fully out and then snapped his hips back into you again and you both moaned loud at the sensation.

“Your so beautiful” Miguel grunted out as he thrusted into you hard and deep.

Miguel could see by your slack jaw, the noises you were making and the way your pussy was fluttering around him,  you were close. Miguel dropped your leg he was holding and let go of your wrists getting up on his knees. Miguel’s hands went to your hips pulling you into him as he thrusted into you chasing his own release while he watched your tits bounce around as he slammed into you.

One of your hands groped at your boob while the other rushed down to circle your neglected pearl. You looked up at Miguel his jaw now slack, a sheet of sweat over his solid form, his muscle twitching under his skin.

You came hard and fast, you’re back completely arched off the bed, your moans loud wailing Miguel’s name pretty much breathless. Miguel came undone with a loud roar and a deep thrust. Spanish and your name spilling out of his mouth. Miguel rolled off of you onto his back for a moment and then got up to go and clean himself up,

“Get into bed Y/N”

You moved to get under the sheets and Miguel came back getting into bed next to you. Miguel lent over you, kissing you deeply, laying back and pulling you onto his chest kissing the top of your head,

“I like being yours” you ran a finger down his chest.

Miguel tilted your head back with his pointer finger, licking over your lips  

“I liked making you mine. Guess you don’t need to worry about getting home now? Another drink with dinner baby?”

“I thought you’d never ask”

 Tags: @witches-unruly-heart @thatesqcrush @teamsladsandgents @amorestevens​ @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo​

[richiettozier]

mal amour

Richie counted to one hundred before pushing against the fancy intercom. Passerby didn't mind his stalling, they just threw a curious glance at him, probably asking themselves why he stood immobile like that for almost two minutes straight before doing anything – he didn't even notice those looks. His eyes are too busy in reading over and over the Kaspbrak tag written elegantly besides the intercom's button.

“Yes?” answered the robotic voice of a woman, and something from his chest fell into the bottom of his stomach. Romantically, his heart. Truthfully, he'd say just bile.

Richie cleared his throat, “Pizza man!” he half–joked. He hoped that she would let him enter with that blatant excuse, but he didn't feel so lucky so he didn't expect anything more of a click and the deaf sound of the silent intercom.

“We never order pizza.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“I was kidding, obviously.” Richie sighed and tapped once against the wall of the apartment building, also leaning to get closer to the device. He was tired from the trip from Los Angeles to here in New York, so he didn't want to raise his voice. He was lacking of sleep, but it wasn't because of the flight he took in the middle of the night. “I am a... friend of Eddie? I believe he lives here. You know, it's his name on the intercom.”

“A friend of my Eddie?” she seemed to gasp. Richie didn't like the sound she was making, the incredulity he was hearing from the metallic noises coming out the device.

“That's what I said.”

“And what you are called?”

The fuck. “Eddie's mom–” he bristled, stopping himself. He glanced down at his bags abandoned by his feet, and grudgingly he decided that he shouldn't make mom's jokes right now, if he didn't wish to go sleep under a bridge tonight – not that he would sleep in any other place, but it was surely more uncomfortable than a couch. “I mean, Eddie calls me Richie, sometimes Rich, and when he's particularly mad at me he even calls me Richard. But actually, everyone calls me Richie, because that's my name. It's a...” he gulped, “A pleasure. Or it would be, if we weren't talking through an intercom.”

The intercom clicked, in the end, and the silence Richie was expecting finally arrived. He leaned his forehead against the cold marble of the building door's edge and closed his stinging eyes, shunning them from the midday New York sun. Shit. He grabbed his two bags and threw them over his shoulders – half himself wanted to go, just go away, because evidently he wasn't welcomed between the lovebirds; but the other half wanted to ring the intercom again and again, until Eddie himself, obviously annoyed, jumped down the stairs to kick him away from there.

The latter seemed to be the best of the two options. At least Richie would see him, angry and alive, before going fuck himself. His finger stopped mid hair, though, when a long bip came from the building's door, signaling that someone – Richie guessed Eddie, at this point – finally fucking let him enter.

Richie didn't know which floor Eddie's apartment was, so he chose to walk up the stairs instead of use the elevator – a grave mistake, but necessary. He started with a quick step regardless of the tiredness he was feeling in his very bones, but just after a single flight of stairs he already was wheezing. “Thank the fucking God,” he huffed, when he reached the third floor and there was Eddie waiting for him in front of the door of his apartment.

Eddie was clearly looking at the elevator, expecting him to come out of it, that was why he almost jumped when he heard his heavy steps stumbling on the stairs. “Why the fuck you didn't use the elevator, Rich?” It was Eddie's greeting, and Richie almost cried hearing it. “I think I never used the stairs in three years, maybe more.”

“I didn't know where your apartment was, dickwad.” Richie inhaled deeply when he arrived in front of Eddie, and he felt his fingers twitch around the straps of his bags. He tightened his grip, “Hey, Eds.”

Eddie's expression melted, and dimples appeared at the sides of his mouth as he smiled and walked towards him, with warm eyes and open arms. “You fucker.” Eddie hugged him, patting his shoulders. Richie's arms almost circled his waist in the hug, but then he decided to just pat his back the same way. He felt eyes looking through him, but Richie tried not to look up and see who the stare belonged to. He had some ideas, though. “What are you doing here? Are you on tour? You didn't tell you were about to start one so soon.”

Eddie ended the hug, and Richie finally felt enough himself to take a good look at him without feeling jelly legs. He was in a suit, so he must have come back from whatever office he was working in to have lunch – with his wife – and he was so good looking that Richie thought it to be very unfair. He tried not to think much about his own state, worse than he was even before getting up the plane, and he wasn't decent then either. “Well, uh,” Richie sniffed, “No, I'm not on tour. I am still in that sabbatical time, or whatever Steve called my doing absolutely nothing.”

Eddie ushered him inside, and only then Richie forced himself not to look at his ass and stare straight ahead. There is no one, no woman watching at him with a frown, no plus–sized wife sending daggers with her eyes. Only Eddie, and the terrible smell of disinfectant lingering in the too white and aseptic apartment.

“Want a drink?” asked Eddie, gesturing at him to go sit on the couch.

“The strongest you have.” Richie knew that he probably just had, like, lame wine, but he was not going to complain, as he sat on the strangely comfortable cushions of the couch, throwing his bags on the floor without much care.

Eddie put a plain glass of water on the coffee table in front of him. Richie didn't even felt surprised. He should have expected it. Had he really married his fucking mother? “I just have water,” Eddie said, defensively.

“I can see that. It's fine,” Richie waved a hand, “So.”

“So.” Eddie sat next to him, closer than expected, but still too far. “Not that I'm not happy to see you, don't get me wrong here, man. But...” Eddie's warm eyes fell on his bags on the floor, “You should have, you know, gone to the hotel before coming here. So you didn't have to bring your things around the city.”

Richie shrugged, “Haven't booked a room.”

Eddie blinked, then sighed. His eyebrows were scrunched in an adorable frown, “I don't know why, but I'm not surprised.”

“I just, got on a plan and came here, you know? Without much thought. I–” Richie lowered his voice and leaned towards him, fidgeting slightly with his own fingers. He didn't want to look around and see if his wife was eavesdropping their conversation, so he just... let it all out. Who fucking cared. “I wanted to see you.”

Make sure you're still breathing, make sure your chest isn't pierced through, make sure that you're not bleeding on the sewers' dirty floor.

Eddie looked contrite, “Rich–”

“Just for a couple of days? I just need to, to stay with you for a couple of days, not much more. Is it too much to ask? You know, this couch is the most confortable couch my ass has ever put his glorious form on, I'm serious!” Eddie laughed, and Richie took it as a victory, “I wouldn't invite myself if I really didn't need it. I really, really need you. Er, I mean, it. Oh, fuck, alright, you! I need you!”

Eddie lowered his eyes, pointing them on the floor. Richie felt the silence stretching for almost thirty seconds before feeling a bubble of idiotic chatter raising from his throat, but he didn't have the time to splutter out a joke – he just wanted Eddie to laugh, after all – because a snort came out of Eddie's nose, “Rich, you idiot, you can stay as long as you want. No one will kick you out of here.” Eddie's mouth clicked shut, as if he said something he shouldn't, something unforgiving. But at the same time, the determination into his big eyes was saying that he wouldn't change his mind no matter what. “But you really have to sleep on the couch, I have no spare room.”

“Damn, Spaghetti boy, such a luxurious apartment and you didn't even have a spare room? You are the worst rich man I've ever met.”

“Shut up and fuck you.” Eddie shoved him, cackling with a tense laugh that Richie didn't really like, but it was better than nothing, he guessed. “Well, I think introductions are in order, considering that you have to stay here for a while.” he sighed, passing a nervous hand through his neatly hair, ruffling it. Richie's fingers twitched. He felt a pang of guilt for causing Eddie's discomfort, and for thinking of how he longed to do the same with his own hand. When he got up, Richie followed him, “I will take some time off from work, so we can... talk, yeah?”

“You don't need to do that.”

“Yeah, I do. You need me, you said.” Eddie threw him a glance through his long lashes, “And you look like shit, Richie. You look like you went to hell and back.”

I did, Richie thought. He desperately tried to come up with a joke, but all the things roaming into his mind in that moment weren't really funny. So he shrugged, “Yeah, the flight killed me.”

“Later we can go eat something,” Eddie was saying, as he walked into a room that Richie thought to be the kitchen, but it was so clean and neat that maybe he put his feet into an exhibition of furniture without noticing it. “We can talk... freely with a slice of pizza in front of us, how about that?”

“That sounds very good, if you add some ice cream right after.”

“What kind of guy do you think I am now?” Eddie snorted. One that doesn't order pizza anymore, Richie almost said, but the words got stuck in his throat at the sight of the woman he found sitting by an island, cleaning the already shiny marble of the furniture.

That woman was... was Eddie's mother. “I'm having a dé–jà vu.” choked out Richie, leaning against the doorframe, passing a hand on his forehead. “Mrs. K?!”

Eddie hissed, cursed and elbowed him in the ribs.

The woman was huge. Usually there wouldn't be anything wrong about this, but the fucked up similarities to Eddie's mother were making the impact way too traumatizing – Richie would say that only the straight, blonde mid long hair falling over her broad shoulders is the real difference that convinced him that she was not really the late Mrs. Kaspbrak.

“Richie, she's my wife, Myra.” Eddie was saying, ignoring the tumultuous whirlwind fucking Richie's mind. Well, Richie knew, from Eddie's words and confessions back in Derry, that he didn't get over the shadow of his mother, that he completely forgot fighting against her abuses when they were teenagers, but – Richie didn't think it was that bad. Jesus. “Myra, this is Richie, one of my childhood friends. I told you about them, you remember?”

“Yes, you did.” she snarled, “They caused you that scar! And you still have contact with them? You bring them here, in our house? They are dangerous! They will cause you harm, dear!” she said, her light eyebrows knitted together in a worried expression that twisted in rage when her eyes fell on Richie.

Richie, as Eddie just ignored her words as if he'd heard them so many times that they have no meaning anymore to him, grimaced slightly though at her outburst. He felt bad, the lingering uneasiness he had in his bones and insides since they all left Derry spiked up suddenly like an old burn sliding against a hot surface again. He eyed at the silver scar on Eddie's cheek, almost invisible but definitely still there. That scar wasn't Richie's fault, even if guilt squeezed his insides nonetheless, even if he always claimed to love him and then he left him alone right when that scar was made; still it could have been so much worse not much later, and at in that occasion it would have been all his fault.

“I'm wounded,” Richie said, pressing a hand against his chest, “Eddie talked so well about you, Mrs. K, I can't believe he didn't do the same to you!”

She narrowed her eyes even more, and Eddie tugged at his shirtsleeve. “Rich, drop it.”

Richie did. He didn't like the tight lines around his eyes, making him older – still hot, but older. More tired. It was the same expression he wore at sixteen every night Richie had found him in front of his front door, with a backpack and a beg on his lips. God, Eddie didn't deserve this shit again.

Later that day, after a hurried lunch with a slice of pizza – Eddie couldn't take immediately time off, so their talk had been delayed – and a more tense too early dinner with Eddie's wife, Eddie went to talk with his boss on the phone, demanding a vacancy for family matters. He made him rest on the couch, gave him a blanket even if there was a fucking terrible heat outside, while he disappeared in what it should have been his and his wife's bedroom.

His wife was with him, and Richie immediately heard when Eddie stopped talking to his boss and started arguing with her. He didn't catch all of their words, but then she shouted something like, “Is it his fault that you are treating me like this for weeks, Eddie?”, and really, call him a son of a bitch, but he really didn't care that they are at loggerheads because of him. He would gladly take the blame – the merit – of Eddie's blown up marriage. And actually, hearing Eddie's voice coming angry and skittish, screaming that “Richie needs me, I am his best friend!” and groaning when she cried and said to him with a teared up voice “and I am your wife!” from the other side of the apartment was easing his nerves, lulling him into a sleep that for weeks wasn't coming to him at all.

❀  read the rest on ao3!

[wackybuddiemewbs]

Random Buddie Fic Snippets - no title, just (bad) vibes

Here’s to another snippet of things that ghost through my Word files. This one’s particularly headache-inducing for me personally. For one, trigger warnings galore. And then I have *checks file* 41k (!!!) words worth of non-fic noted down, but it’s really just unassembled bits and pieces of mostly dialog. Grrrrrrr. 😖

Since such a fic would take a lot more planning... which is basically the antithesis of me for all intents and purposes... I pester you with snippets like they are pestering me. Said it before and can only reiterate: I make you suffer with me. *cackles*

Basically, the story plays on the idea that Eddie and Buck grew up together due to plot convenient purposes and meet again at the fire station after years apart. Anyway, here’s to more madness mingled with angst! Cheers!

Buck slings his duffel bag over his shoulder when his phone vibrates. Sighing, he shifts his weight to take it out of his pocket and take the call. A smile creeps up his lips when he sees the picture flare up on his screen.

“Hey, what’s up, Mads?”

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that you were right about that little bakery downtown. It’s so worth the twenty minute trip,” she nearly groans. And Buck can relate. When he found that authentic Mexican bakery on a long run through the city, he may or may not have shed a few tears of happiness. And he may or may not have bought pastry worth a hundred bucks.

Totally worth it to run all those extra miles for the carbs, though.

“How many conchas did you have?” Buck asks, chuckling softly.

“I’m pleading the fifth.”

“Did you drive back to get more?” he questions, though Buck is fairly sure what the answer is already, which comes promptly, “Which is why I might be late for work.”

Buck laughs, leaning back against his car. “They are in the top 5 of conchas I ever had, which is saying something. So yeah, I get the feeling.”

And he should really know, he’s had the best in the world and no. 2 and 3 also. Though those are not up for sale.

“So, I need a bit of distraction to keep myself from digging through the remains of the bag before I make it to the car,” she tells him.

“Sure, what do you want to hear?”

“Howie told me that you’re getting someone new on the team today. Are you excited?”

“… Oh, ugh, sure.” Buck can feel his jaw cramping at that.

“You know you just sounded more excited about me being on a sugar high thanks to Mexican pastry than you are about your new teammate arriving.”

He’d hoped to avoid that conversation before he got over with it. Because that’s how he normally rolls with it. He gets over with it.

Works with band-aids and most situations that give you discomfort.

But Maddie has maybe not the sixth but seventh sense apparently big sisters seem to inherit by birth, so it appears that not even the most amazing conchas up for sale in all of Los Angeles will spare him having that conversation now. Which is the equivalent of tearing duct tape off, but slowly.

“I’m a huge concha fan, what can I say? And sure, it’s cool. It’d be nice to have a partner on the team, like, permanently, like Chim and Hen, more like.”

Buck rolls his eyes back as far as they will into his skull. It’s a small wonder that Maddie doesn’t buy his bullshit. He was fine just dodging the topic until now, it’s what normally works best for him. But yeah, Maddie just knows how to coax it out of him, and he loves and hates her for it.

“Talk to me, Buck.”

Buck looks up to the sky. “… I guess I’m just a bit nervous.”

“You are nervous? Don’t you think it’s up to the new teammate to be a bundle of nerves?”

“That’s kind of my thing, though,” Buck argues.

He has been ever since Bobby announced that they’d get a newbie, not a probie, but someone to be on the team with them. Dutifully, Buck laughed at the comments about how Bobby seemingly hired him a babysitter to make sure he doesn’t do reckless stuff all the time.

The nervous energy settled in when he got home that day and his leg wouldn’t stop bobbing well into lying in bed, trying to sleep. He only fell asleep halfway through reading the Wikipedia list of minor planets named after people.

“Then why do you feel nervous?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You know you can tell me,” she says softly.

Buck closes his eyes. He understood by now that yes, he can. But that doesn’t mean he wants to. Most of the time, Buck wished he didn’t have to tell anyone anything ever again and simply exist in the here and now. Because the here and now is sunny and tastes of pretty damn awesome conchas.

“I know it’s stupid, but…” His voice trails off.

And maybe she can read his mind, Buck wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be the case, because Maddie goes on to say, “You know he’s not taking your place, right?”

“What? Yeah, I mean…” Buck chews on his bottom lip. Whenever Maddie starts to talk like that, he feels like he’s sitting with a therapist. And suddenly, what he wants to believe are just his antics sounds like food for the shrinks.

“This is supposed to be your partner. Someone to have your back, not stab you in the back,” Maddie points out.

“Rationally, I know all that. It’s just…” He stretches out his legs.

“It’s just what?” she asks in a gentle tone of voice.

“What if he’s better than me?”

What if they realize that he’s expendable after all? What if someone comes along who can do things better than Buck without the attitude? What if he can’t prove his worth anymore because that guy can do it just as well, maybe even better?

“Then I will be glad because that means someone capable is watching out for my baby brother,” Maddie answers, pulling Buck back to the current conversation, not the fictional ones inside his head.

“What if we end up hating each other’s guts?” Buck continues. He had to restrain himself from actually typing a list of all those questions on his phone when his mind went spiraling upon receiving the news. Because that’s what’s been going on ever since Bobby announced. And Buck knows how stupid it is, but his brain didn’t get the memo. There are so many what ifs that it’s making him dizzy thinking about them.

“Then you talk about it like actual adults. And anyway, no one can hate you to your guts. You’re amazing.”

Buck has to fight hard not to blush. “Thanks, but you’re biased because you’re my sister.”

His heart still beats a little faster every time he says those words out loud. Something that comes so light and casual these days, though it isn’t. It is closer to what it should be. Because it should be casual, natural, given.

But apparently, the world didn’t get that memo yet. Seemingly a pattern.

“And as your sister, I’m also always right.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

He laughs. She chuckles back.

“Listen,” Maddie continues. “Just be yourself. You’re going to figure it out. This is exciting, Buck. More people to add to your family, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks,” he croaks.

“I’ll call you during lunch time, unless you’re out on a call. And then I want all the details on the newbie.”

“Alright. Pro tip: Put the bag of pastries in the trunk of your car. Only way to keep your paws off of them while driving.”

“I may actually crawl back, but yeah, it’d require a lot more effort.”

He smiles. “Drive save.”

“Will do.”

“Alright, I’m heading in,” Buck says, pushing away from his car. “Or else I will be running late, too.”

“Love you, little brother.”

“Love you, too. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Buck hangs up and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

Maddie is right. There is nothing to be nervous about. He has a team now. No one is leaving. New people are arriving. That’s how it works. That’s normal. And he gets to pester the newbie. So he should really be excited, as Maddie said. Buck knows he should focus on that. On how great this could turn out to be. On having a partner. Someone to have his back. All the time.

He sucks in a deep breath as he comes to stand in front of the door leading inside the fire station.

“The door is not closed,” he mutters with closed eyes, grabbing the handle. Buck pushes inside. He is greeted by the familiar hum of the fire station coming to life. People are talking over coffee, some are still fastening the buttons on their shirts as they make up the stairs.

And there’s no place he’d rather be. Buck knew that the moment he first walked into the station for the first time, and that assessment hasn’t changed since.

Buck makes for the locker rooms to change, not wanting to run late like Maddie. Once changed into his uniform, Buck finds himself a little more at ease. Athena once pointed out that they wear those uniforms as a way of protecting themselves. You take them off after work and leave all the bad behind that you’ve witnessed on a call. For Buck, the other way is just as true, though.

When he puts on that uniform on, he can leave his anxious, knee-bobbing self behind and do something meaningful. Because that’s what he found here, beside the team that means so much to him. He found a purpose. A way of answering a calling that lies far back in a past he can’t and won’t remember. To save lives.

Buck looks at his reflection in the mirror, straightens out the collar, makes sure his hair sits perfectly. His glance lingers on the name tag a moment longer, brushes his fingers over the metal plate, the one thing he can’t fix or straighten out.

But that won’t make me flinch. Ever.

“Buckaroo! Time for coffee and talk! I need new material on that show Denny and you are watching and that you need to update me on, so I don’t have to watch it!”

Buck smiles as he closes the locker to see Hen standing there with two cups of coffee.

“Coming.”

But that fixes a whole lot already.

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

Hen sips her coffee in silence as Bobby goes on about who is doing what for the day. She is glad that she isn’t assigned truck cleaning duty. That’s one of the best things about newbies and probies coming in. They get to do the dirty work for a bit. She had to jump those hoops, too, like everyone did, so it only seems fair.

Chim nudges her in the side, pulling her out of her musings. “Have you seen the newbie yet?”

She nudges him back a bit harder to tell him wordlessly that he is supposed to stop doing that. “If I had, don’t you think I would’ve told you by now?”

“Just saying, being late on the first day is not a good sign.”

“Can I help you with something, Han, Wilson?” Bobby calls out. “Care to share with the rest of the team?”

Buck laughs beside them, earning himself a nudge from Hen. That kid is going places sometimes, but Hen learned to love him fiercely after he stopped being a punk.

Fine, he’s still a punk sometimes, but we got to see there’s a heart of gold underneath all the punk and muscle and hair gel.

He grew on her the way he managed to grow on anyone, even the Captain who doesn’t like to admit that more than anyone around the station. He fired the boy first week in, and it was well-deserved, but he proved capable and kind.

Hen knew she was done for this humanoid golden retriever when she fussed over not having a babysitter for Denny and Buck jumped in after he’d just done a double-shift. She and Karen were still working things out and he just made the room, even though the boy deserved bed more than anyone else. Still, he took Denny to the park, finished homework with him, and got him to go to bed even though the kid is not so much a negotiator as he is a small dictator when it comes to bedtime. Karen and she found Buck passed out, snoring like a lawnmower, a book still in his lap while sitting next to Denny’s bed.

“Nothing, Cap,” Chimney answers. “Just sharing excitement about the newbie.”

“You’ll meet him shortly. He had to pick up his gear first and talk to the higher-ups another time. Once he arrives, you can pester him with questions as I know you will.”

“On it, Cap.”

Bobby rolls his eyes, but then his mind goes back to the clipboard and the rest of the chores yet to be divided among the firefighters on shift. The rest of the morning routine goes without further incident, so the three are soon walking down the stairs to their designated task of checking their stocks on medical equipment.

“Okay. That is a beautiful man,” Chimney says, suddenly stopping in his tracks.

Hen trains her eyes on the dark-haired Latino, putting on a shirt. That should be the newbie, then.

“Where’s the lie? And I like girls.”

“Eddie…,” Buck breathes beside her.

Hen whips her head around at the sound.

“Wait, you know this guy?” Chim asks, but Buck doesn’t say anything. Instead, he starts to walk towards the new guy, or almost staggers, she should rather say. The newbie only takes notice of him when his head pops out from the shirt.

“Buck?”

To Hen, it feels like the two just go in slow motion while the rest of the fire station is crazy and busy as always. As though the whole world disappeared around them.

She can’t make out whatever words may be exchanged between them before the new guy covers the last few steps between them and pulls Buck against him in a tight hug. Shock is written all over his face, but also huge relief. Though Hen honestly wished they stood the other way around, because she would like to know just what expression is flitting across her little golden retriever’s face.

“What on earth is going on here?” Chimney mutters.

“I ain’t got no clue.”

The newbie pulls away, smiling over both ears, both hands deftly resting on Buck’s arms. Even though Hen still can’t see Buck’s face, it seems that the guy is doing all the talking for a change. Then he is hugging him all over again.

“I repeat, what on earth is going on here?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Before they can overcome their paralysis, Buck starts to move, gesturing behind himself. The new guy nods with the brightest of smiles, not once letting go of Buck’s arm as they start to walk towards them.

Her confusion is multiplied by the way Buck carries himself, eyes downcast, looking nothing but nervous.

Did someone exchange the 118’s golden retriever this morning, or what’s going on here?

“... can’t believe we meet again in this place of all places,” she can hear the new guy say as they approach.

“S, same.”

Buck is stuttering. To repeat the repeat: What on earth is going on here?

“We have so much catching up to do.”

“Yeah.”

“Buckaroo?” Hen calls out, or maybe demands. She no longer cares for the details here. She needs to get down to the bottom of this. Fast.

“Oh, sorry, I just… this is Eddie.”

“Hi.”

“Hi Eddie, it is a pleasure meeting you. We will greet you good and proper in only just a moment. Hold the line,” Hen says, before turning her attention back to Buck. “Now to you, Buckaroo. Spill the beans.”

“Yeah,” Chim agrees.

But Buck is not forthcoming. Boy looks like a fish out of the water, his mouth opening and closing without any sounds coming out. This makes the sirens ring inside Hen’s head, not the ones at the station. Because their Buckaroo never stops talking, even when he should sometimes, and even when he wants to stop talking, he will keep talking. So him not finding anything to say may or may not force Mother Hen to have to look after her punk chick here.

“We grew up together,” Eddie says after a pause, still all soft smiles and maybe even softer curls, by the looks of it. Hen will worry about that later, too. “I honestly had no clue he was working at this station, let alone that he was in L.A. Color me surprised. Abuela will not believe this.”

“Abuela?”

“My grandmother. She’s the one who fostered him before…,” Eddie continues, but then stops himself when he notices the look of sheer panic on Buck’s face. “They do not know this.”

Buck shakes his head.

“Dios.”

“Wait, you were in foster care?” Chimney almost cries out.

“In Texas?” Hen adds, her mind still short-circuiting thanks to that input.

“Yeah. I was adopted by the Moores after that.”

Chimney gapes at him. “You were adopted?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, they don’t know about that either?” Eddie asks, now almost as frantic as they are.

Welcome to the club, hon.

“Now they do,” Buck mutters.

“But Maddie isn’t adopted. I should know.” Chimney lifts his index finger.

“Right,” Hen agrees.

Eddie makes a face. “Who’s Maddie?”

“My girlfriend, Buck’s sister.”

“You have a sister?” Eddie slaps his hand against Buck’s arm, shock taking the place of confusion.

“Wait, you grew up with him and don’t know his sister?”

“It’s a long story,” Buck sighs.

“Like how you’re Texan?” Hen scoffs.

Buck holds up his hands. “Okay, guys, can we stop spiraling for a second?”

Hen opens her mouth to give him a piece of mind, but she’s abruptly cut off by their captain standing at the top of the stairs. “Buck! I could use a hand up here!”

“On my way, Cap!” Buck yells back, the amount of relief to opt out of the conversation more than imminent. “Sorry, duty calls!”

“Hey no,” Chim hisses, but Buck isn’t having it. He pats Eddie on the shoulder. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay.”

With that, he starts to jog, or rather run, up the stairs. All watch him go, before their eyes fall back on the people standing right in front of them.

Well, if that’s not awkward.

“So, ugh. Hi again,” the new guy says, smiling sheepishly. “Eddie Diaz, your newbie.”

“Hi. Hen Wilson.”

“Howard Han, but you can call me Chimney or Chim. And why I’m called that is between me and God.”

“Okay. That may be only the second most confusing thing to happen on my first day.”

“We don’t normally act like this,” Hen tries to reassure him.

Chim makes a face. “We don’t?”

Hen nudges him in the side hard enough to make Chim gasp.

“Wilson, Han, you’re supposed to get on with the stocks!” someone calls out.

“You’re not our boss!” Chim shouts back at what turns out to be that jackass Lambert from B-roll no one likes because his attitude stinks about as much as his aftershave.

“But Cap is and he told me to tell you to move it!”

“I hate that guy,” Chim grumbles.

“I think I’ll like it here,” Eddie chuckles.

“They are so young and innocent when they join,” Chim snorts.

“Welcome to the 118,” Hen says, giving the younger man’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I suppose you should go up there as well and talk to the captain.”

“Alright, I’ll see you around.”

“Most certainly.”

“That was only mildly threatening,” Chim laughs, rolling his eyes well before Hen jabs him another time.

“Good to have you here,” he adds.

“Indeed.”

“Good to be here. See you later.”

“Later,” both say in unison.

Eddie smiles at them before climbing up the stairs.

“You try to get a hold of your boo, I’ll see what info I can squeeze out of Cap or Buck, whoever I get my hands on first.”

“Aren’t we supposed to get on with…”

Hen glowers at him.

“I said nothing.”

“Less talking to me, more talking to your girlfriend.”

Chimney makes a mock salute, before walking away while fiddling with his phone. Hen let’s her gaze wander up to the gallery with a grimace. Something is not right, but she is going to figure it out. Because Hen Wilson keeps all her little chicks on track, even more so now that they got a new one to take care of.

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

Eddie tosses the sponge into the water bucket. Getting some of the crappier chores for the day is something he fully expected to happen. What he didn't expect, not in a million years, was running into Buck. Eddie’s head is still reeling because of it. And for what it seems, the same is true for Buck.

Buck.

To say that he seemed shocked is an understatement. Eddie knows the way Buck expresses panic. He’s grown up making sure the kid breathed instead of keeling over when it hit him, so Eddie knows that this was not just surprise, this was fight-or-flight level panic. Eddie knows by now he was so panicked because his colleagues didn’t know about the fostering or adoption – and he could still kick himself for bringing it up unawares.

He jumped to the conclusion because Buck used to talk about it freely to anyone who asked, especially after he was adopted by the Moores. Because it was his way of signifying to the rest of the world that he’d made it from being abandoned to finding friends and family. So Eddie assumed that Buck wouldn’t act any different around his colleagues.

Far from it!

“Eddie, my friend.”

Eddie nearly jumps when Hen and Chimney materialize next to him.

Speaking of…

“Hi,” he greets them.

“How’re you liking it thus far?”

“The detergents smell not as bad as some others do,” Eddie snorts. “But I’m pretty sure that’s not what you came here to ask me about.”

“Just so that you know, you can tell us anything,” Hen says in that mild tone of voice, though Eddie is pretty sure she only says it this way not to scare him away.

“You are looking for bribing material on Buck, I take?”

“We always appreciate it, but we are more like… trying to get up to speed. Until you came to the station, we didn’t even know he’d been fostered,” Hen answers.

“Or adopted,” Chimney adds.

“In Texas.”

Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, about that. So he actually found his sister?”

If seeing Buck nearly floored him, hearing about his sister was definitely not adding to Eddie’s calm.

“Yes, she’s my girlfriend. You’ll get to know her soon enough.”

There is a part in Eddie that’s very much relieved to hear that Buck found at least part of his family, but another part of him hurts at the news just as much. Because that means Buck likely learned some very uncomfortable truths about his past that won’t have added to the man’s confidence.

“Back in Texas, we knew nothing about where he came from, including whether he had siblings or not. There was an assumption, but no one could be sure.”

“How old were you by the time your grandmother fostered him?”

“I was eight years old.”

“Eight years old… Buck made it sound like he and Maddie were out of touch like, only by the time she got to know Doug.”

Eddie frowns. “Who’s Doug?”

“No one you want to know.” Chimney shakes his head.

Eddie shakes his head. All of this starts to make less and less sense. Why didn’t Buck tell them about any of this? Why didn’t he when he apparently found his sister? Why are they about as clueless as he is, even though they’ve been working side-by-side with him for how long now?

“We lost sight of each other when the Moores moved away from Texas. So they aren’t around anymore?”

Hen shrugs at that. “Let’s say we’ve never met them, never talked about them, or seen any pictures.”

“Kid arrived here with a travel bag and the will to become a firefighter,” Chimney adds.

Eddie can’t help but smile at that. “That sounds like him.”

“You sound pretty clueless actually, and not gonna lie, that is strangely reassuring,” Chimney snorts.

“I prepared for meeting many new people today. Not my best friend back from childhood.”

“Aw.” Hen clutches her hands in front of her chest.

“I just hope he’s not mad at me.” Eddie grimaces. There is something tugging at his heart, just thinking about it. A memory that goes way back in time. When he thought he’d messed it up with Buck forever and always, but he forgave quicker than Eddie could forgive himself.

“I don’t remember our Buckaroo being capable of keeping grudges for long.”

“Then that hasn’t changed at least,” Eddie sighs.

“I think you two should definitely get something to drink after work, reminiscence about the good old times. Catch up. Report back to us in the morning,” she says, her voice trailing off.

“You are aware that they are childhood friends.”

“But I can be far more intimidating.”

“I think getting something to drink and catch up is actually a good idea,” Eddie ponders. “So thanks.”

“You, I like.”

Eddie grins.

“You still missed a spot, though.”

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. Buck made some good friends here, for what it seems. And he is more than glad for it. They can surely figure this all out.

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

Waking up this morning, Buck thought his biggest worry would be to sort himself out with regards to the newbie and his standing on the team as a result. While that remains true, he just didn't imagine for one hot second it may be Eddie of all people in the entire universe.

Eddie.

When Buck saw him at the station, he didn’t know how to breathe. Even though he hadn’t seen him in years, he knew instantly, only to know that he suddenly knew nothing anymore. Buck used to think he made his peace never seeing Eddie again after they moved away, but then Eddie was hugging him and all those things Buck made sure to bury deep in the ground started to crawl up through the dirt, scratching at a way too thin surface.

And now he is sitting at a bar, nursing his alcohol free beer – because he doesn’t drink when driving, he has to get people out of cars thanks to that behavior way too often, thank you very much. He is at a bar. With Eddie. His Eddie. Because Eddie invited him to get a beer after the shift, and Buck didn’t know how to say no.

Story of my life, isn’t it?

“… I don’t even know where to begin,” Buck admits after a while of awkward silence spreading between them, wherein both men just started peeling the label off of their bottles of beer.

“Same. I mean, you got a sister.”

“Yeah, ugh, I would have told you that, but Chim is still over the moon with her, so of course he mentioned her before I could. They are cute together, but at the disgusting kind of stage,” Buck ponders.

“I’m just so happy for you that you found your family, Buck.”

He manages a feeble smile. Because Buck knows that Eddie means it, understands it perhaps better than most. Because he had to deal with it growing up, had to deal with Buck dealing it growing up.

“I didn’t really find Maddie. We just… happened to meet again. Like us two did today.”

Eddie blinks at him. “Really?”

Buck nods his head. The universe always had the strangest kind of humor when it came to him.

“She’s a dispatcher now. We talked over dispatch for a while, not knowing who we are to each other. We decided to hang out. As friends. She didn’t know people in the city after she moved there only recently, so we also went to a pub and… we started to talk.”

Déjà-vu much, huh?

“Over time, I told her some stuff about my past and, well, Maddie realized that the timing seemed oddly familiar to the brother she thought had died,” Buck continues. “DNA test confirmed it.”

“I was wondering about that,” Eddie sighs, still trying to process that input for what it seems. “I mean, I really put my foot in it, just blurting out with this.”

Buck holds up his hands. “Eddie, no. You had any reason to believe I had told them. I suppose I’ve been blowing this up out of proportions anyway, so this is really just on me.”

“It’s your choice what you want to share with people about yourself, Buck.”

Buck blinks. Sometimes, he forgets how wise Eddie used to be already at a young age. He was also a dumbass a lot of times, but when it came to talking about Buck’s feelings instead of his own, the guy always knew how to make sense of the chaos and make Buck feel like his feelings weren’t just a tedious affair best ripped off like band-aids.

Eddie always understood Buck, even when he couldn’t understand himself. And Buck wants to think that the same was true the other way around, for as long as it lasted.

“Thanks.”

Eddie smiles at him, sipping from his beer.

“Speaking of, thanks to Maddie I now know my official name,” Buck continues, doing his best to sound jovial. “Evan Buckley.”

“Buck-ley. Well, that explains how you got the name,” Eddie ponders, before tilting his head to the side with a cocked eyebrow. “So do I call you Evan from now on?”

“If you want me to call you Edmundo?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Buck sniggers. “You should know better than to tempt me.”

“Evan.”

“Edmundo.”

“This sounds all kinds of wrong,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “For me, you can only ever be Buck.”

“Which is convenient, because I can only be Buck.”

There was a brief moment in time when Buck considered changing his name, taking on that identity, the one intended. In the end, he dropped the idea for what he hopes to be for good. He doesn’t know who this Evan Buckley was or what he’d be now. He knows what Buck was like growing up. He knows what the guy is up to these days. And while they have their qualms, he’s mostly at peace with Buck.

Even a name tag doesn't change a thing about it.

Because he’s Buck. And thankfully, Eddie sees it the same way. So maybe he’s not entirely crazy for holding on to that, however schizophrenic it may be in the end.

“Anyway, part of the reason why I managed not to let anyone in on this is that Maddie agreed to run with not mentioning it. We just stuck to the part where we lost sight of each other and found one another again when anyone asked. And until now, no one really questioned the timeline.”

“And no one ever made the connection between Buckley and Buck?” Eddie asks.

Buck shakes his head. “Maddie’s married name is Kendall. She considered changing it back to Buckley after she broke up with her scumbag husband. But when she found out what kind of scumbags our parents are, it was out the window. So no one had reason to question the difference in names and just assumed that Maddie’s birth name was Moore, too.”

“I take that there is no good explanation as to how you ended up in Texas, then,” Eddie sighs. Buck can tell that he’s trying to sound casual, soft, but the white-knuckled grip on the beer bottle is an entirely different story.

“No, not really. As far as we understand it, our parents moved across state borders under the pretense to get treatment for me. Then they just dropped me at a fire station and drove back. They told Maddie I died.”

“Why would they do that? Why would anyone’s parents…?” Eddie shakes his head, disbelief settling in. Buck knows the feeling oh too well. When he found out, it didn’t make sense to him at all. But as more details were added, the clearer the bigger picture became, though it turned none the brighter.

Buck looks around, just to be sure none of the 118 was sent here to spy on them. Once he is sure there is really just them, Buck hunches forward in his seat.

“Well, I was a big, fat disappointment, I guess. They had me to save their oldest son, Daniel. He had juvenile leukemia. I was… I was a savior baby. Just that… ugh, I didn’t save him. My guessing is that they never wanted me, so they gave me away after Daniel died. I was just there for spare parts anyway.”

Buck suddenly feels something cold in his neck, only to realize it’s Eddie’s hand gently squeezing it. Buck tenses for a moment, then eases to the familiarity of the touch, suppressing the urge to lean into it like he used to.

“I’m so sorry. I would’ve hoped for something else to come out of this.”

Buck manages a feeble smile. “It’s fine. I got a sister now I never expected to find. That’s great. Over the moon kinda great. And now I also ran back into you, too. So I’m one lucky bastard after all.”

Eddie’s hand lingers for a while, no words spoken and yet all is said between them. And how much Buck missed that. Not having to say things for them to be understood.

Eventually, Eddie’s hand falls on his shoulder, giving it a light pat before returning to his beer. “So we’re still friends after I spilled to your colleagues?”

“I didn’t stop being your friend after you got so mad for me saying that you couldn’t bake for shit, so you covered a balloon stuck to a cardboard box in frosting and told me you’d baked a cake and I cut the thing only for it to explode in my face.”

“To this day one of my proudest achievements when it comes to pranks,” Eddie snorts, breaking out laughing at the memory.

Buck can’t help but laugh along. Many of those memories got stuffed away alongside the ones he’d buried in the ground. He had no reason to unearth them because he chose not to tell anyone. But with Eddie, those things come back to light and they shimmer like gold, even after all those years of packing on dust.

“Laugh it up all you want, I got back at you eventually.”

“Don’t remind me,” Eddie groans. “I got grounded for a month because you led my parents to believe I’d be stupid enough to have a folder for porn on the family’s computer and made a message pop up every time that the folder was overloaded and created a system error.”

“Yeah. That was a masterpiece,” Buck sniggers. “But anyway. If that didn’t cancel our friendship, I think we’re fairly good with all this here.”

“Then I’m glad. When you fled the scene, I got kind of worried.”

Buck shrugs. “You know me. I’m a whirlwind of emotions, so I thought it’d be best if I took the time to cool down.”

“That was definitely not how you went about it before,” Eddie argues.

And Buck can’t argue with that. Back in the day, Buck just let the storms rage, never minding the consequences. On the job, that’s still how he rolls, but it was also how he talked, how he presented himself. After he got to meet the Diaz family, he stopped hiding a lot of things. He screamed when he felt like screaming and he cried when he was sad. He laughed when he was happy. And sometimes he even cried because he was that happy, but he learned that this was okay. Abuela always told him this and he took it to heart.

At least for as long as I could.

“Which is why I’m working on it. But anyway! Enough of me. Tell me about you. How long have you been in L.A.? What got you here?” Buck asks. Judging by the look on Eddie’s face, his transition of topics is not nearly as smooth as he’d want it to be, but Eddie rolls with it anyway.

“I moved here only shortly, for the job,” he says. “Before that, I was working some odd jobs. Before that, Afghanistan.”

Buck winces. “Shit.”

“Yeah, that’s one way of describing it. After I came back home injured, I couldn’t do this anymore. I had to set priorities differently, and somehow… I ended up in L.A.”

“Fresh start.” Buck nods his head. There is still so much to unravel in just those few sentences. Afghanistan. Injury. Priorities. Eddie tends to hide a lot more in his words, even more so when they are scarce. But for what it seems, he will now get the time to dig deeper. Because that is what Buck knows someone has to do in order to understand someone like Eddie Diaz.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I get that feeling,” Buck says. “Los Angeles is great for that, worked out for Maddie and me, too.”

“We’ll have to drink a lot of beers to catch up on all those years we didn’t hear from each other to wind up having a fresh start in the same city.”

“Then it’s a date.”

Eddie wants to say something, but then his phone vibrates. “Sorry about that.”

Buck holds up his hands. “It’s fine.”

Eddie takes out his phone and checks his messages. Buck can see the instant shift in the other man’s demeanor. He knows that change like the back of his hand, even with years between where they parted ways and now crossed them again. Eddie’s shutting down.

“Hey, uhm, sorry, I gotta head out. It’s urgent,” he says, grabbing his wallet, clearly embarrassed and beat-up for having to leave so suddenly.

Some things don’t change, do they?

“Hey, it’s fine, man. We, ugh, we are stuck together now anyway, right? We’ll find enough time to catch up. It’s a date, after all,” Buck assures him. “Also, you’re not paying for the beer, unless you wanna pick a fight with me. Just go.”

Eddie smiles at him wryly. “Thanks. I’ll pay next round?”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Now off you go.”

“Sorry another time. I really gotta…”

“See you at work!”

“See ya!”

Buck manages to keep up the smile until the door shuts behind Eddie. His shoulders drop and he sucks in a deep breath. He pays for the beers and nearly flies out the door.

He makes for his car and climbs in. Buck realizes only now how badly his hands are shaking. Struggling for breath, he takes out his wallet again and fishes out that one crumpled piece of the past he carries with him whenever he’s not on the job, so to be sure it doesn’t get further damage.

Buck unfolds the faded photograph with shaky hands and presses it against his mouth, breathing hard against it. The tears keep coming, no matter how hard he tries to stop them. They are happy and sad. Desperate and relieved. Everything and nothing. And all that at the same time.

Eddie is back.

Eddie is back in his life, just like that, after the years it took him to accept he’d never see him again. That he’d moved on as he should have.

How do you rip off the band-aid or duct tape for that?

Or maybe that’s just the universe telling him that some things really can’t be fixed.

Because apparently, the universe is still mocking him.

[dc41896]

Play Nice

Pairing: Erik “Killmonger” StevensxBlack Reader

⚠️: None, all fluff💕!!

“Ah-ha I win again! That’s three to zero baby girl,” Erik gloats flashing his immaculate smile as he lightly nudges the arm of his seven year old daughter. Little arms crossed over her chest, she wasn’t in the joking mood.

“When’s mommy coming down?”

“I don’t know she’s not feeling good so she’s trying to sleep. Why, you tired of me already?”

“I am now,” Mya mumbles getting up from the floor.

“Aww c’mon don’t be like that one more game. You can be Mario this time.”

“I’m not good at this game though, and you won’t help me so you’re always gonna win and that’s not fair!,” she pouts, bottom lip poking out as her nostrils flare.

“Well that’s why you practice until you get better big head,” he smirks holding up the controller.

“No I don’t want to play with you anymore, and don’t call me big head.” Stomping off to her room, she slams the door behind her causing an echo to carry throughout the formerly still house.

“Aye, no slamming doors!,” he fusses jiggling the handle unable to open it. “And take the lock off!”

“No!”

“Alright what happened?,” you sigh walking down the hall to your husband in your tank top and sweats.

“Nothing baby I got this, you go back and rest.” Giving him a look, you kneel down softly knocking on the butterfly stickered door. He should already know that no amount of convincing would ever turn you away, especially if it involved your daughter.

“Sweetie, open the door please.”

After a few seconds you hear the small click of the lock and watch the knob slowly turn until the door opens revealing a sniffling, teary eyed Mya.

“Hey boo, what’s wrong?”

“Daddy- he-!,”

“Inside voices ok?,” you remind putting a finger over her lips. “Now take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

Slowly breathing in and out as she’s told, she wipes her eyes before continuing her story.

“Daddy and I were playing Mario kart and he was being unfair. He didn’t even teach me how to play.”

“Yes I did Mya.”

“No you didn’t daddy!”

“Ok everyone calm down. By teach, did you actively show her how to play or did you just tell her what buttons to press?,” you ask looking up at Erik now with his arms crossed.

“I mean, I told her the buttons but-,”

“So no you didn’t show her.”

“And then after he won, he’d be a bad winner.”

“Erik..,”

“I wasn’t being a bad winner,” he replies being met with your famous glare clearly not believing him. Erik was one of the most competitive people you knew, if not the most competitive and definitely was one to rub a win in someone’s face. It’s the reason why you rarely played with him and when you did, knew just how to distract him so the game was the last thing on his mind.

“Alright I wasn’t that bad of a winner, but babe she gotta learn that life ain’t fair.”

“Ok but how about teaching her in a way that also doesn’t make your head bigger in the process,” you smirk making your daughter giggle beside you.

“Mommy called you big head!”

“I don’t know why you laughing, you got the same head,” he sarcastically chuckles poking her sides and making her pout again.

“Erik she’s a kid, you gotta go easy on her until she learns how to play and can hold her own.”

“Right!,” Mya agrees nodding her head.

“Daddy has a point though boo. Everyone you play with isn’t gonna be fair all the time, and although it hurts don’t let it anger you too much. Just tell the person calmly that you don’t want to play anymore and go do your own thing.”

“Okay.”

Squatting down beside you, Erik gently grabs Mya’s hands kissing each one before giving her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t playing fair and made you upset. From now on I promise not to be so competitive when we play together, but I understand if you don’t want to play with me anymore.”

Moving closer to her father, she kisses his cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck making the brightest smile appear on his face.

“I forgive you. Don’t be like that again though,” she warns with a pointed glare causing both of you to laugh.

“Alright you got it baby girl.”

“Ohh! Now that you’re up mommy you can play too and help me beat daddy!”

“I don’t know Mya. I don’t really pla-,”

“Yea boo you’d be better off getting help from a blind man than mommy,” Erik laughs making you tilt your head as you cross your arms.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean I’m just agreeing. Like you said bae you don’t really play games so you’re likely not to beat me.”

“But I have beaten you before though. Twice in fact,” you reply standing up.

“True, but one of those doesn’t count because of what you did to beat me,” he adds standing as well with Mya still around his neck.

“Well it’s about to be a second, third, and however many times we play after that. Mya go start the game please.”

“Okay! Ohh daddy you’re about to get it!”

“Mhm we’ll see,” he chuckles as you both follow your daughter back to the living room.

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[youbloodymadgenius]

Off Guard (Modern!Ivar x reader)

Part 1

A/N: This is my entry to @hecohansen31​‘s 1K writing challenge. Congratulations once again, love 💐! There’ll be a second part. Heco, I know how much you love insecure!Ivar, so bear with me and trust me 😉

The prompt I chose: Don't panic. Are you sitting? You probably don't need to sit. Well, possibly. At least lean on something. (”The Raven Boys”, by Maggie Stiefvater)

As usual, thanks to @inforapound​ 🌺

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Y/N wants to surprise her three-year long-distance-relationship boyfriend. Things aren't going to turn out the way she hoped.

Warnings: slight angst for this first part, nothing more.

Words: 2416

Reaching the entrance of the building, you heave a sigh of relief, seeing the guard standing at the door. You know him. He won't mind letting you in and it makes the first part of your plan so much easier. 

 "Miss Y/N, how nice to see you again."

 "Hello…", squinting at his badge, you give him a broad smile, "… Erik. I'm glad to see you too. He's still in there, right?" Pointing at the building, you look up, Ivar's office being on the top floor. 

 "Of course he is. You know him, don't you?" Showing his disapproval by shaking his head, Erik waves at an employee leaving the building  before explaining his thoughts. "He never leaves before nine pm, sometimes later. He's far too young to work that hard." Erik lowers his gaze, pursing his lips. "I'm afraid I'm overstepping my role, sorry Miss. Shall I let him know you're here?"

"It's fine, Erik, don't worry." Putting a reassuring hand on his arm, you squeeze it lightly, nodding. "I agree, Ivar works way too hard. Hopefully it will change,” you add with a dreamy smile before remembering his question. "No, don't tell him I'm here please, I want to suprise him."

 Erik winks at you, seemilingly pleased. "All right Miss, as you wish." Pushing the door for you, he invites you in. " My shift ends in thirty minutes. If I don't see you again, I'll say good night." Thanking him, you head to the main elevator but stop in your tracks when another question pops in your mind. "Hvitserk and Ubbe are out of the office, right?" 

 Erik nods, stifling a chuckle, his answer obvious. "Of course Miss. They left two hours ago, together with two young ladies, very blonde and very pretty if I may say so." You can't help but grin hearing that. So far so good. Everything's going according to your plan. Giving him a thumbs up, you shout "Thanks Erik, good night," while the elevator doors are closing. 

 And now, it's time for action. Selecting the top floor button with a shaky finger, you're beyond excited, your heart racing faster and faster the closer you get to your goal. 

 As soon as the doors open, you quickly cross the seemilingly deserted floor, pleased once again with your perfect timing. Friday night at seven pm, there's hardly anyone left in the building. Yet, you're still careful.

 As you walk passed Ivar's office, you have to fight with all your might not to burst through the door, your heart beating frantically at this point, the burning desire to finally be in his arms after more than four months, literally, eating you up. 

 By now, you're used to this long distance relationship, this ocean between the two of you. Yet, since your first encounter on a Caribbean island three years ago, you've never been without each other for so long. You want, you need, his strong arms around you, his lips against yours. You resist the urge, inhaling deeply, determined to pull off the surprise as you planned. He'll love it. Of course he will. 

 With Hvitserk and Ubbe gone, you have a choice but don't hesitate before entering Hvitserk’s office. Hvitserk being Hvitserk, you know he spends few hours at work – to the great dismay of his brothers – more interested in women than in the family business. His office, impersonal and with blank walls, is therefore perfect for your plan.

 Sneaking in, you close the door quietly as you swing your backpack from your shoulder, putting it on Hvitserk's desk. Glancing around, you see that you were right, there's nothing on the walls or personal items on the desk. 

 The moment you open your backpack, you take out your laptop, turning it on. It would have been faster with your phone, but the battery is dead and its charger lies in the bottom of your suitcase. Bursting with impatience, you nervously bite your lower lip, eventually releasing a short breath as soon as your laptop is ready.  

 As you open Skype without a moment's hesitation, it's like your heart is exploding. Finally! Holding your breath, you click on the call button…

 It rings.

 ***

 "Y/N?" Ivar gives you a dumbfounded look as soon as your face appears on his screen. "Is everything all right? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Looking briefly at his watch, he nods. "Yes, you should, it's awfully early for you."

 Playing along for now, you fake a yawn, stretching your upper limbs. "Yeah, I know, but I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd call you, my love. Hope I'm not disturbing anything."

 "No, don't worry. Guess I can spare five minutes even though I've got a lot of work to do." Slightly shaken by his sharp voice, you wince. You know he does indeed have a lot to do. Between his doctoral thesis and his leading post within the Lothbrok Corporation, Ivar is more than busy most of the time. Too busy to your liking. Still… 

 "Where are you?" Squinting at his screen, Ivar frowns, his index finger clearly pointing to the blank wall behind you. "This is not your bedroom, is it?"

 Relieved to have a ready answer, you're about to tell him that you're in your father's office on the ground floor, so as not to wake anyone, but you don't get the chance as he waves a dismissive hand at you, leaving you speechless.

 "Never mind, forget it, just tell me why are you calling, Y/N?" There's no pet name, no frills. On the contrary, in his tone is a urgency that doesn't suit you well. Feeling baffled and a little hurt, you nervously run a hand through your hair, pursing your lips. Of course, you know Ivar doesn't like talking on the phone, video calls or not. It's nothing new and not something you're happy about, but you've learned to accept it.  Still, you have to admit, he has been more distant lately.

Biting your inner cheek, you try to brush your uneasiness off. Ivar had never been much of a talker, rather a quiet and straight-to-the-point guy, but, he loves you, that's something you know for certain. So, instead of paying too much attention to his obvious lack of enthusiasm, you focus on what's about to happen. Your surprise. He'll love it. You're sure he will. 

 "Well…", you begin, unsure, wishing you could pretend a little longer, have him believe for a few more minutes that you're home, thousands of miles away. But you can't. You've been dying to break the news to him for days, ever since your parents said yes. Keeping it a secret had been hard, and you don't want to wait anymore. 

 Taking in a deep breath, you give him a dazzling smile. "Actually, I'm calling you with a good reason, Ivar. I have something to tell you. Something huge, if I may say so."

 Furrowing his brow, he looks at you questioningly, leaning his head towards the screen. "Carry on." His terse voice gives away how uninterested he is. He must be VERY busy, you think, but that's not going to undermine your eagerness. 

 "Listen, it's the most unexpected news of the year!” Waving your arms enthusiastically, you suppress the urge to get up as you just want to rush into his office, failing to notice his frozen-with-concern face.  

 However, you don't miss the way he clenches his jaw a second later, swallowing loudly. "Fuck, you're scaring me, Y/N. You can't be… " He stops and you catch a glimpse of... fear in his eyes. Realizing he's genuinely afraid freaks you out a little bit. While many terms can describe Ivar – cranky, handsome, stubborn, smart, cheeky, yet sometimes insecure, short-tempered but often so sweet in private – scared is certainly not one of them. What can he be thinking about?

 "No Ivar, please. I promise, it's not bad news. Maybe you should sit down, but trust me, it's nothing bad. Don't panic. Are you sitting? You probably don't need to sit. Well, possibly. At least lean on something. Oh no, you know, I think it would be better if you were sitting. Yeah. Sit down Ivar. But I promise, it's not bad news. Are you sitting? Because I think that you should, definitely."

 You'd probably keep going, but he interrupts you harshly, "Y/N!", a finger over his lips. "Stop your rambling! Look, I'm behind my desk, of course I'm sitting. Now tell me… I need to know… You're not… You're not fucking pregnant, right?"

 Huh?? You stare wide-eyed at him, utterly taken aback. You just can't believe it. Pregnant? How could you? Even if you're on the pill, Ivar always uses condoms, repeating his explanation each and every time, so much so that you memorized it. 'My fucking condition is the result of a fucking genetic disease, Y/N. My child will have a fifty percent chance of inheriting it. It can't fucking happen.'

 Part of you wants to tease him about it, but because you can see he's genuinely worried you choose instead to reassure him. "Of course not, Ivar." A look of relief immediately washes over his face, Ivar breathes a huge sigh, his features relaxing visibly as you give him an affectionate smile. You're truly delighted when he smiles back at you. 

 "Okay, good. So what is it? What's the big news, Y/N? Won't you tell me?" Hands clasped under his chin, he seems to be giving you his undivided attention now, narrowing his eyes. Glad to see you've finally managed to arouse his interest, you nod excitedly, beaming. 

 Determined not to keep him waiting any longer, you clap your hands twice before breathing out heavily. "Yep, I will. Listen Ivar, you know how my parents have always been reluctant for me to study there, right?"

 Rolling his eyes, Ivar shrugs, shaking his head slightly, a disappointed look on his face. "Yeah I do, indeed." He's not doing as well in the whole long-distance thing as you are. He had once, a long time ago, put words to his feelings, fists clenched, his anger barely hiding his sorrow. 'Sometimes I do feel like I've been cursed. Nothing is ever easy for me. Don't get me wrong, Y/N, I love you and I don't regret having you in my life, but I wish things could have been different. One normal thing in my abnormal life. Guess it was too much to hope for…' It had hurt you, but you understood him.  

 Your desire to move overseas so that you can live with Ivar had been a real bone of contention between you and your parents for the past two years. You may be twenty-two, but your parents still think of you as their little girl. Of course, you don't let your 'little girl' go abroad, do you? And since you didn't want them to get mad at you, you stayed, to the great distress of your lover.  

 Speaking of Ivar, it's not even that your parents don't like him, because they do. They just don't get it. ' Why doesn't Ivar come here instead? We would be sincerly happy if you two lived together, you know? Here. In our country, that could become his.' You had argued endlessly, explaining that it was much more complicated for him to move than it was for you. Partly because of his job, obviously, but mostly because of his disease. His doctors are in Norway, his PT too, as is the surgeon who has operated on him many time. They know Ivar, his special condition, his rare genetic disorder. More importantly, he knows them, trusts them, and sadly needs them. 

 You had never been able to get through to you your parents, at least not until recently. Surprisingly, they finally changed their minds a few weeks ago and you jumped at the chance without delay, applying to Kattegat University while taking care of the red tape, all this of course behind Ivar's back, so that the surprise was complete. 

 "Well, they're not anymore." As soon as you understand that he's not sure what you're talking about, you quickly add, eyes sparkling with excitement, "Reluctant, I mean."

 "Ex… Excuse me?" Ivar stutters, clearly flabbergasted, his blue eyes widening.  

 "You heard me, Ivar. They said yes. My parents agreed. I don't know why and I don't care, but yes, they did. And so, my next academic year, which starts in two months, will be

in Kattegat." You're nearly screaming now, fully excited, your heart rate picking up speed as you remember that you're almost there. The surprise! Ivar may think you've already broken the big news, but he couldn't be more wrong. 

 "Wow! That's unexpected! Guess it's… awesome, Y/N." Swept up by your enthusiasm, you miss the way Ivar frowns, just as you don't sense the little indecision in his voice. You do notice the silence that follows, though, but even if you had hoped for a little more eagerness, it doesn't trouble you. It's Ivar, after all, your taciturn, sullen boyfriend.

 Yet his silence bothers you when you realize he's not going to ask you the question you're looking forward to. Looks like you're going to have to take charge.

 "This is the part where you're supposed to ask me when I think I'm coming, you know?" Chuckling, you wink at him, oblivious to his cool and aloof manner.

 "Ivar?" Raising your eyebrows, you try again as he remains speechless. "Did you hear me?" On an ordinary day, you'd know something's wrong. But there's nothing ordinary about today. 

 "Huh? Sorry, just got a lot on my mind…" He mumbles, lost in thought, scratching the back of his neck. "What did you…? Oh yes, got it." Holding up his index finger, he tilts his head, cracking a bashful half-smile. "Tell me Y/N, when do you plan to arrive? Two weeks before college starts, so you have time to settle in? Or one? One should be enough, what do you think?"

 Almost squeaking – that's your moment, the one you've been waiting for days – you jump out of Hvitserk's working chair."That's the thing, Ivar, that's the thing!" 

 Walking away from the desk and your laptop, you can barely hear Ivar asking where you're going as you rush to the door and through the corridor leading to his office. 

 Stopping for a second when you get there, you inhale deeply before pulling the handle down and opening the door wide. "See Ivar, that's the thing, I'm already here!"

🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets​ @lisinfleur​ @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @gearhead66​ @readsalot73​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @hecohansen31​ @lonewolf471​ @milkkygirls​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @shannygoatgruff​

[jay-and-dean]

Tennessee Whiskey

Dean x reader

Summary : The Mark of Cain is making Dean try to drown is demons, the truth is he’s drowning himself. But when a pretty girl offers him a drink, he wonders... Does he really need another whiskey ? So he gets home to the one that waits for him.

Warnings : Fluff, MoC Dean, mention of alcohol abuse, implied Smut.

Wordcount : about 1.5k

Note : This fic is inspired by Chris Stapleton’s song, Tennesse Whiskey.

=> Listen to it while reading Here

***Jay’s Masterlist***

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          You pushed the washing machine buttons, almost enjoying its purr in the silence of the bunker. Heavy, dreadful silence.

           Walking past Sam's room, you sighed, he didn't come home today like he said he might, and you knew he wouldn't tomorrow either, not until he found something. Something that seemed impossible to find.

           How interminable was those corridors really ? Why did the Men of Letters had to make everything so big ? You wrapped your arms around yourself like it could keep you from that freezing loneliness making you want to cry constantly.

           You checked the war room one last time, making sure the lights was on. Getting down those stairs drunk was enough of a challenge to add the darkness.

           He wouldn't come back before a few hours or in the morning. He would smell like whiskey and walk like a man that lost everything... And tomorrow, he would act like he didn't came close to coma the night before, and start drinking at noon.

           You sighed deeply, and decided that you would wait for him again, on that stupid chair all night, even if you had promised yourself you won't do that ever again.

           You opened your laptop and plugged the little speakers you took in every room you went since the Mark became worse. Just to fight that silence...

           Painful, deafening silence.

           But before you could chose what music to play, the door opened in a grating sound and he appeared on its frame. A warm smile appeared on his face the second he saw you were waiting again.

"Dean ?" you frowned, surprised to see him home so early and, from the way he was coming down those stairs, barely worse than tipsy.

"Hey Babygirl."

Maybe more than tipsy.

"Wasn't your evening fun ?" you asked as he was walking closer with a light smile on his face, and his eyes focused on you.

"It was very common" he answered, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. "There was this girl, with a tiny skirt looking at me from the other side of the room..."

A girl now, with a tiny skirt... You could totally see her in your mind, the skirt had to be denim, and she was probably touching her long brown hair with fake waves.

"Great" you just said, a little bitter.

What more could you come up with anyway ? You had done all you could those last few months. Helped him, patched him up, reassured him, looked for a cure, listened, forgave... You had let down your shyness to allow your love for him to shine in every one of your gesture thinking if it could help him though this, then that would just worth exposing your heart... But who were you, huh, compared to a very short dress and shiny hair girl ?

"She came to talk to me" he continued, that mysterious look on his face. "And offered me a drink ! A girl never offered me a drink before" a chuckle left his chest.

"A drink" you repeated, shrugging.

"I really don't need people to offer me drinks..." he muttered and before you could say anything, question him, he gave you a sad but sincere smile, making it obvious that he was remembering something. "But then... They played that song."

He got a step closer, his boot almost touching your chair, and offered you his hand.

           You looked up, unsure. Was he trying to show you something ? To take you somewhere ? His face didn't move, and his hopeful almost enthusiastic eyes convinced you to take his hand and get up. It was rare enough to see him with light on his face lately...

"This song..." his murmured, starting to hum. "It was about you."

"About me ?"

"Yes" he stated, gently wrapping his arms around your waist, careful not to touch you more than you would want to -you wanted everything really-. " 'Made me want to dance with you."

"So you drove home ?" you chuckled slightly, starting to like his kind mood.

"I did. I wish you could hear the song in my head."

You searched his face. He actually looked like a weight had been taken from his shoulders. His eyes were a little brighter and his words were warming the whole place.

           You let yourself enjoy the smell of his skin and the softness of that flannel you loved so much. Dean was close and he had his strong hands on your lower back ; suddenly, any memory of loneliness vanished.

"If you know some words, the title or singer, I could" you smiled, curious, looking at the speakers Sam got you for your birthday.

"I know the title and all" he nodded. "If you open one of your magic things where all the songs are."

You bended a little on your laptop and he only let go of you to type some words, focused, his neck inches away from your craving mouth.

"Loud please" he murmured with a satisfied nod as he seemed to find the song he was looking for.

You turned the speaker volume up and stood straight again to face him. His hand came to the back of your neck gently, fingers shy, encouraging you to put your head on his shoulder.

           The first deep very warm notes rocked you, and the drums matched your heart as you took a deep inhale of his beloved smell, barely believing how tender and intimate this moment was.

           Maybe he was a little drunk after all, maybe this gesture was purely friendly for him, maybe he was just torturing you... Or you were asleep on this hard table, having the best dream of your life. But you couldn't care less as you nuzzled your face close to him, wrapped by his big arms and the smooth heat of the guitar echoing everywhere, finally chasing that damn silence.

But when the deep and powerful voice of the singer invaded the room, the corridors, the entire bunker... Dean started to whisper the lyrics in your ear... And you couldn't help but hang yourself to his neck.

"I used to spend my nights out in a barroom, liquor was the only love I've known..." he whispered and Goosebumps went up your spine. "But you rescued me from reachin' for the bottom, and brought me back from being too far gone."

Tears filled your eyes, and his arms held you closer. His hips started swaying really slightly, because this was obviously more about being against one another than dancing.

"You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey" his voice suddenly became a little more than a whisper. "You're as sweet as strawberry wine. You're as warm as a glass of brandy, and honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time..."

Your tears fell heavily on his shirt and your hands grasped the fabric in his back. His lips brushed your temple for a second before he continued murmuring the lyrics of your new favorite song against your burning skin.

"I've looked for love in all the same old places" he said more than he sang, putting another kiss close to your hair. "But when you poured out your heart I didn't waste it 'Cause there's nothing like your love to get me high."

You wanted to say a million words, finally having Dean holding you close to his heart, but the song was rocking you so good, the guitar strings were inside your core and your lips were sealed by emotions anyway.

           He kept swaying his clumsy hips slowly, his palms going down on your ass to crush you on him, making you feel his body begging for more of you. His lips went down from your temple to your jaw, never leaving your skin, in a brush that triggered a blaze in your veins.

"Dean..." you murmured in an exhale.

"I don't need anything out there to be stronger" he stated, kissing your neck. "I just need the woman that gives me the will to beat this at any cost."

You knew he could taste the salt of your tears in your neck.

           When he took a step, caging you between the map-table and his strong body, your arm went behind to lift your hips enough to sit on it. But in your rush, you hit his glass, making it fall and shatter on the floor.

"I'm sorry for your whiskey glass..." you started, immediately cut by his plumb sweet eager lips on yours.

"I don't care about whiskey" he assured you, grabbing your thighs to come between them. "I just want to be stoned on you."

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[hopelikethemoon]

Dinner With Friends (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Dinner With Friends Rating: PG-13 Length: 3500 Warnings: Family Fluff and extremely mild angst.  Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. And release order here. Set in January 1998. Shout to the one and only Tiernan for supplying the twist in this chapter.  Summary: Reader and Javier host the Murphys for dinner.

Taglist:  @grapemama​  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited​ @ah-callie​ @swhiskeys​ @lady-tano​ @beskar-droids​ @space-floozy @cable-kenobi​ @longitud-de-onda​ @cool-ultra-nerd​ @himbopoes​ @findhimfives​ @pedrosdoll​ @seeking-a-great--perhaps​ @frietiemeloen​ @arrowswithwifi​ @random066​ @uncomicalhumour​ @heather-lynn​ @domino-oh-damn​ @cyarikaaa​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​  @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

“Stevie!” You called out when she started barking loudly — Josie had ensnared her into a game with Olivia and Emily and her patience seemed to be wearing as thin as your own. 

“Did you really have to name her Stevie?”

Steve questioned, shaking his head slowly as he leaned against the kitchen counter and watched you press the button on the top of the lettuce spinner. 

“I love Stevie Nicks.”

He pointed at you, “And that is bullshit.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re just jealous that Sofía isn’t Stevie.” 

Steve glared, “Well if it starts with ‘S’.” 

“I’m sorry, do you have an issue with our daughter being named for Javier’s late mother?” You questioned, folding your arms across your chest briefly, before you emptied out the tossed lettuce into a larger bowl. 

“Not when you put it that way.” Steve huffed, shaking his head as he took a swig of beer. “How are… things going?”

You glanced over your shoulder at him, “The drought was quenched almost five months ago. Thank God.” 

Steve blanched, “I don’t need to know about that.”

“You asked.”

He narrowed his eyes, “About how things are going.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. 

You laughed, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m doing better. There’s still difficult days, but I work through them.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “And Javier is good at helping me.”

“He’s always been more than willing to give you a hand.” Steve said with a slow shake of his head. “The two of you were inseparable.”

You felt a faint blush rise to your cheeks. “I know. And we still are.” You grabbed a handful of freshly washed radishes and started cutting them down into smaller pieces for the salad. “He’s still just as stubborn about everything.”

“Shit. Isn’t he?” Steve snorted, rocking his head to the side.”I don’t know how you put up with that grumpy son-of—“

“Mommy!” Josie called out from the threshold of the kitchen. “Mommmmmy.”

You sat the knife aside and turned back to look at her, hands on your hips. “What’s up?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Dinner is almost ready.” You assured her. “Why don’t you go check on daddy outside?”

“Okay mommy.” Josie beamed at you. “Does daddy have sissy?”

“Aunt Connie does, rugrat.” Steve told her, “She’s out in the backyard with your father.”

“Thank you.” She said politely before leaving through the back door, followed by Emily and Olivia. 

“She gets away with everything doesn’t she?”

“With Javier? Oh, yeah. I’m the strict parent. Always.” You shook your head with a laugh. You didn’t actually mind filling the role of the strict parent, mostly because Javier was a marshmallow of a father.

“I wouldn’t have guessed that.” He remarked as he took a drink of  his beer, “You’ve always been the fun one. Javier? I didn’t know that fun was in his vocabulary.”

You rolled your eyes, “For the record, he was actually very fun in Colombia.”

“Really?” Steve gave you a skeptical look. “I think that might be the rose colored glasses talking.” He gestured to you with the bottle. “You were the positive influence he needed.” 

“Yeah,” You agreed. “He would’ve worked himself to death, if I hadn’t been there.” You scooped up the radishes you’d cut, tossing them into the bowl of lettuce. “Can you get the croutons out of the oven?”

“Look how fancy you are. Making homemade croutons.” Steve teased as he grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the pan out of the oven. 

“Josie will only eat a salad if there’s croutons in it.” You explained to him. “Javier hates the store bought croutons.” You grabbed the carton of cherry tomatoes, flipping the plastic lid up so you could rinse them off under the sink. 

You glanced back towards the backdoor as it slid open, a parade of tiny humans reemerging, followed by Connie and Javier. 

“Hot food, coming through.” Javier warned, clicking his tongue against his teeth to get the girls to move faster. “Come on kiddos.” He shooed them out from under foot as he veered towards the kitchen counter and sat the two plates of grilled burgers down. “Ever try to keep three girls away from a grill?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully as you turned to face him, tilting your head to the side. “I tried it once, which is why I sent them out to you.” You grinned at him.

“It’s fucking hard.” He chuckled before he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” You used the dish towel and swatted him in the ass with it. He caught you by the belt loop as you stepped past him, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Need any help?” Connie questioned as she cradled Sofía to her chest, looking between the two of you. 

You shook your head, “You brought the potato salad and you’ve kept her occupied so I could get everything else ready.” 

“Do you have ranch?” She questioned as she looked towards the bowl of salad, “It’s the only way we can get Olivia to even humor eating something green.” 

Javier nodded, “Josie likes it on broccoli.” He stepped around you and pulled open the fridge to grab the bottle of ranch, as well as the other salad dressing options. 

“How do you get her to eat raw broccoli?” Connie questioned. “It’s an uphill battle to get anything green into the girls.” 

“Josie likes food.”

You rolled your eyes, “Josie will eat anything Javier asks her to eat.” 

He shrugged, “It’s true.” 

“I wish Steve had that effect on the girls.” Connie laughed softly, “He can get them to eat plenty of candy.”

You snorted. “He loves his Werthers.” 

She widened her eyes dramatically, “I swear to God, every pocket is full of wrappers!” 

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Should’ve done the patch, rather than going cold turkey.” 

“That would make sense,” Connie made a face. “Oh well.” She bounced Sofía in her arms as she started to wake up, “Did you see California is set to ban smoking inside bars?”

“They’ll just ignore it,” You countered, grabbing a tray and putting the salad and the salad bowls on it. “But it’s progress.” 

The three of you headed into the dining room, where Steve had managed to corral the girls into their chairs. 

“I don’t want a burger, mommy.” Josie complained as Javier sat the plate of burgers down on the table. 

“You’re not eating a burger, babydoll. You’re having a soy one with me.” You promised her, pointing to the second plate that contained two burgers that were considerably thinner than the actual hamburgers. 

“I want chicken.” 

“Princesa, you’re eating what we made for you.” Javier warned her, sitting down beside her, across the table from you. 

“Do we have everything?” 

“French fries?” Olivia questioned.

“Your mother made potato salad,” Steve told her, pointing to the Tupperware tub. 

You sat down beside Connie, taking Sofía from her so you could get her settled into her highchair beside you. You used your fork to grab a potato out of the dish of potato salad, plopping it onto Sofía’s highchair tray. You smashed it up with the fork, “You wanna try a bit of potato?”

Sofía seemed skeptical. She reached down and squished the potato between her fingers. 

You tapped your finger against your lips, “You eat it, sunshine.” 

Sofía gurgled and threw herself back against her seat, smearing the potato all over her face.

“Close enough.” Javier chuckled, shaking his head as he slathered mayonnaise on a bun for Josie. 

“More!” She urged, hanging on his arm. 

“Josie.” You gave her a look across the table. 

Sofía kicked her feet against the highchair as she leaned over and tried to reach the tub of potato salad that was well outside of her reach. “You like that?” You questioned, grabbing another potato and putting it on her tray, smashing it up for her again. 

She dramatically hummed her delight. 

“Look at that, she’s not always a grumpy baby.” Steve remarked with a short laugh. “I worried she was a carbon copy of her father.” 

Javier glared at him, subtly flipping him off so Josie couldn’t catch him.

You worked on fixing your own burger, glancing around the table to make sure everyone had what they needed. You really hated playing host. An ideal situation was a box of pizza thrown in the center of the table for everyone to fend for themselves. But Steve and Connie were such gracious hosts, you felt like you had to do the same. 

Javier had lived on grilled cheese, whiskey, and cigarettes for the majority of his bachelor years. He wasn’t one to complain. He wasn’t actually half bad in the kitchen when he put a little effort into it. 

“How’s things at the hospital?” Javier questioned Connie in between bites of burger. 

Connie grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth off before answering, “Good. I’m not working as many double shifts as I was there for a while. I’ve actually had days off that felt like days off. No catching up on sleep.” 

“With my transition out of the DEA, it’s been nice to have her around more.” Steve added. “Hun, did you tell her about that lady you’re working with?”

You arched a brow, looking at Connie expectantly. 

“Oh! I totally forgot,” She laughed, taking a sip of water before she continued. “We’ve got a new medical social worker working on the floor that looks so much like you. I did a double take the first time I saw her. Do you have a secret younger sister?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, reaching for your bottle of beer and taking a swig. “Is my doppelgänger nice at least?”

“An absolute sweetheart.” Connie said with a grin, taking another bite of her burger before adding, “She’s actually from Medellín.”

Javier dropped his fork, causing it to clamp against his plate. You shot him a curious look, a brow arching upwards. 

“Colombia?” He questioned, taking a drink of beer to keep from choking on the bite of burger he’d swallowed nearly whole. 

“Is there another one?”

Steve cleared his throat, “You hadn’t mentioned she was from Colombia.” He looked between you and Javier with a knowing look. 

“I believe she came here as a political refugee. I didn’t ask for specifics.” Connie shrugged, “Why?”

The look on Javier’s face made the lightbulb come on. Holy shit. 

You leaned an elbow against the table, turning towards Connie. “Her name wouldn’t happen to be Elena, would it?”

Connie’s brows shot upwards, “Yeah! Wait — do you know her?”

“Some of us better than others.” Steve muttered under his breath, much to Javier’s horror. 

“Yeah.” You nodded your head slowly, “She was great. I’m glad she’s gotten herself out of that situation.” You looked towards Javier then, smiling a little. “I guess that promise of safety had follow through.” 

Javier rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, “I had no idea she was in Miami.” 

“It’s fine, Javi.” You assured him, “It’s a small world.” You watched him as he nodded his head slowly, staring down at his plate of food. Of all the people that the two of you had known in Colombia ⁠— the sheer irony that Elena had made her way to Miami was… something else. 

“I feel like I’m missing something.” Connie remarked, looking between the three of you curiously. “What am I missing?”

“Not in front of the kids.” Steve stated with a shake of his head. 

“Daddy, you gotta eat your veggies.” Josie said sweetly, pushing the bowl of salad towards Javier. “Don’t you wanna be big and strong like me?”

“Of course I do, princesa.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Javier, it’s fine.” You said firmly, shifting in your seat so you could brush your foot against his leg beneath the table. “Don’t get yourself bent out of shape over this.”

“I’m not getting ‘bent out of shape’.” He shot back, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stared at you. “I just can’t believe… of all the cities.” 

“What am I missing?” Connie questioned, nudging you in the arm.

You sighed, chewing on the inside of your bottom lip. “Elena was one of Javi’s informants. When was that?” ‘89 to ‘92?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Steve agreed with you, pushing his potato salad around on his plate. 

Javier was so tense you could see the corded muscles of his throat as he stared straight ahead at you. 

“So she was an informant informant?” Connie questioned, brows furrowed as she looked towards you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “And it’s not nearly as big of a deal as Javier is acting like it is.” 

Javier raked his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily as he sank back in his chair. He scratched at his lightly scruffy jaw, not quite meeting your gaze as he looked across the table at you. “It’s a big deal to me.” 

Connie looked between the two of you, “I really didn’t mean to start something.” 

“You didn’t.” You assured her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Hey Javi, did you leave the grill on?” 

He gritted his teeth together before he gave a stiff nod, scooting his chair back and getting up from the table. 

“Daddy, where are you going?” Josie asked with her mouth full of her burger.

“Daddy left the grill on.” Javier offered, meeting your gaze as you got up from the table. 

“Uh-oh!” Josie said with a sing-song voice, entirely oblivious to the situation. 

“We’ll hold the fort down,” Steve promised you as you followed Javier through the kitchen and out the backdoor into the yard. 

He walked a few paces ahead of you, before he stopped with his back to you. You considered staying rooted to the spot where you stood, but instead you moved towards him and curled your arms around his middle, resting your cheek against his back. “Javi,” You started, trying to keep your voice steady. “This is such a non-issue.” 

“For you.” He retorted, resting his hands over yours. “I feel like every time we take one step forward, something happens that sets us back. Every fucking time, baby.” 

“But it’s a non-issue,” You assured him, squeezing him a little tighter. “I liked Elena the handful of times we worked together. I’m thrilled that she’s thriving. Hell, I’m glad she’s here. Miami isn’t so bad.” 

Javier turned in your embrace, his hands settling at your hips. “I didn’t know she was here.” 

“I didn’t think you did.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, brushing your thumb over the rise of his cheekbone as you met his gaze. “Look, I know that’s a period of history you’re not particularly fond of, but… It doesn’t bother me. At all.” You tilted your head to the side, “I thought we were working past this.” You gestured between the two of you. “There’s no other shoe waiting to fall.”

His Adam’s bobbed as he looked down at you, “I just can’t fucking believe she’s in Miami.” He shook his head slowly. “Of all the goddamn places.”

“I think she had a cousin here.” You recalled, “Shit, that was a long time ago.”

Javier nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah.” He ran his hands over your hips slowly, “Last time I saw her was right after you told me…” 

“Did you tell her?” Your brows furrowed. 

“I did, yeah.” He recalled, “I mean she knew about you…”

“I know she did.” You reached you and played with the hair that sat against his forehead. “I thought you didn’t tell anyone.”

He shrugged a shoulder, “It slipped out. I figured it didn’t really matter that she knew. She was happy for us.”

You smiled fondly, “I think we should meet up with her.”

“What?”

“Catch up, see how she is…”

“Baby—“

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” You raised your eyebrows. “Hell, she might not even want to see either of us.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I just think it’s too ironic that she’s working at the same hospital as Connie.” 

“I’m not going.”

“That’s fine, I’ll go then.” You rose up on your toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You need to stop worrying so much, Javi.” You brushed your nose against his as you raked your fingers through his hair at his temples. “I trust you.” 

Javier curled his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. “What’d I do to deserve you, baby?” 

“Still trying to figure that one out.” You teased, kissing the tip of his nose. “Come on. Connie’s going to be stressing that she’s single-handedly destroyed our relationship if we don’t get back inside.”

“She was mortified.” He chuckled.

“Not nearly as much as you were.”

“I was praying for the earth to open up and swallow me whole.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You felt that way in the sex sho—”

Javier cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand. “Don’t.” He warned you. 

You poked him in the stomach and when he didn’t remove his hand, you swept your tongue over the palm of his hand. That worked. He quickly pulled his hand away, wiping his hand off on the front of his jeans.

“If you want to shut me up, you’re going to have to wait until we’re alone.” You told him, putting your hands on your hips, before walking backwards towards the back door. “But until then, we have guests to entertain.” 

“It’s just Steve and Connie.” Javier followed after you, his arms crossed across his chest. 

“Who are guests we’re entertaining.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “And you’re going to finish your food, otherwise Josie is going to believe she can skip dinner too.” 

“Fine.” He huffed quietly, shaking his head as he slid the sliding door shut behind him. “But we’re dropping this conversation. I don’t wanna talk about an informant in front of the girls.” 

You gave a mock salute, “Sure thing.” 

Javier caught you by the belt loop, pulling you towards him. “I mean it.”

“I’m not going to bring it up again.” You promised, curling your fingers around the back of his neck. “As much as I love torturing you I’m not cruel, Javier.” 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Thank you.” 

You smiled up at him, “No ‘thank yous’ needed, babe.” You took his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers as he headed back for the dining room. Steve and Connie had managed to keep the kids entertained in your absence. 

“She’s had about a full little potato.” Connie told you as she gestured to Sofía, “I think most of it got into her mouth.” 

“She gets really into her food.” You chuckled, releasing Javier’s hand as you both returned to your own seats. 

“Where’d you go daddy?” Josie asked, tilting her head to the side as she licked the dressing off a piece of radish, only to dip it into her salad bowl again. 

“Like I told you,” He reached over and smoothed his hand over the top of her head. “I left the grill on.” 

Connie gave you a wary look as you picked up your burger and took a bite. “So…”

“Everything’s fine.” You assured her, looking towards Steve then, “So have you heard any rumors in the DEA about the article?”

“Oh, I have.” He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and shook his head. “I hope you don’t plan on looking for a job in the federal government.” 

You feigned offense, “If I ever did, you’d know I had been abducted by aliens.” It was still bizarre to consider that you had spent so much of your early adulthood working towards a role in the very institution you wanted to pull down. 

“Baby, you know I have a class of students that would love to see you teaching.” Javier pointed out, beaming with pride. “End of last semester, I had her come in and give a lecture for the department.” 

You rolled your eyes, “It was a fifteen-minute talk.”

“With a forty-minute question and answer section.” Javier insisted, his eyes meeting yours with an adoration that warmed your heart. 

“I would only disappoint them,” You licked a drop of mayonnaise off your thumb as you sat your soy burger back down. “They already think you’re a tyrant when it comes to papers and grading.” 

Steve laughed, “Isn’t that because you do most of the marking for him.”

“And I go easy on them.” You grinned. “My teachers didn’t take any corners with me and I worked my ass off to get here.” 

“I don’t know if I can picture you as a teacher,” Connie said, giving you a once over. “No, I can’t.”

“Thankfully,” Javier started with a teasing tone. “They’re college students and not children.”

“And what does that mean?” You questioned, looking in between the two of them. “I am a delight.” 

“You certainly lectured us a lot. Back in the day.” Steve joined in. 

“Was I wrong?” 

“Rarely.” He agreed. 

“Well, we can't all be Professor Peña, now can we?” You quipped, nudging Javier’s foot under the table. 

He scratched at his jaw, shaking his head. “No, we can’t.”

“But I’m always interested in dropping in to torment you and Monica.”

“Do the other students know that you’ve all but adopted her?” Steve questioned. 

You started to answer, but Olivia was quick to announce, “I’m adopted!” 

Josie turned towards Javier, “Am I adopted?” 

“No princesa, you weren’t adopted.” Javier assured her as she grabbed at his arm. 

“Was sissy adopted?”

“No. Remember your mommy grew her in her belly?” Javier reminded her, giving Connie a sympathetic smile, before his eyes flickered towards your face. “Out of the mouths of babes.” 

“Seriously.” You laughed as you shook your head, reaching for your beer. “To answer your question, no. They don’t know.”

“Trying to keep things unbiased.” Javier explained as he scooped Josie into his lap, much to her delight. “She actually earned herself a B- on a test this week she should’ve aced.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” You frowned. “Why?”

“Her attentions a little stretched right now.”

“Of course it is.” You rolled your eyes, “Oh to be young and in love.” 

“Old and in love isn’t too bad, is it?” He countered with a wink.

You grinned, “It’s pretty good too.” 

[all1e23]

The One With All the Giggles [One-Shot]

Summary: Bucky finally gets to take his girl on a real date.

Warnings:  Smutty smut. 18+ please, and thanks. It’s not graphic sex, like at all, but it’s adulty time. Be cool, k? 😉

A/N: I’ve been watching Friends a lot. To explain the title. I have been so soft this week. My period has turned me into a soft mess. That led to Beck and December’s first time. lolol. This takes place roughly a week after chapter 17. They just became an item and they are trying to find their footing as this new couple. It’s full of giggles and silly playfulness. It’s more about the fluff and the gentleness than it is the dickin’. Sorry if you wanted dirty smut🤣🤣.  If you have not read the series Astrophile, THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS.  

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!*

The transition from friends to something more is easier, in theory, it turns out. It is hard to decipher what had been flirting and what was just friendly banter between two friends — more importantly, what was them being them, Y/n and Bucky.

Natasha doesn’t quite understand what the problem is. When Y/n asked her for advice earlier in the week, seeing as how she went through something similar with Clint, Natasha told Y/n she didn’t see what the big deal is. You two have flirted from the moment you met. He’s always looked at you like you hung all the stars, and it’s quite nauseating. Add a little kissing, and you’ll be fine.

He never said anything but, Y/n knows Bucky is nervous, too.

Maybe it’s because nothing has really changed. They still talk on the phone all day long. Bucky still FaceTimes when he’s working late, or he’s bored and missing her.  Y/n sends him random pictures throughout her week when she’s thinking about him and starlight. Ori comes by the shop nearly every day. Maybe a week is too soon to notice the change, or perhaps nothing will change between them at all.

The knock to her front door startles her enough to make her jump. Bucky is there. Bucky is at her front door to take her on a real date. She glances down at her galaxy printed tights, black skirt, and sparkling grey sweater, this isn’t exactly sexy. It’s cozy, and she likes it, but it’s something she would wear every day — not on a date, and she should have dressed up.

What if he’s disappointed?  

Y/n blows out a nervous breath and pulls the door open only to find Bucky grinning at her from behind a bouquet of star jasmine. He’s not dressed very fancy at all — jeans and a black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and his hair pulled back into a small bun. 

At least, he’s not in a suit. 

“Hi,” Bucky breathes, a ridiculous smile tugging at his lips, “You look— Damn, you look beautiful.”

So maybe he won’t be too disappointed.

“Thank you!”

She beams back at him, setting the flowers he gave her in a vase on her kitchen counter. The bouquet was small, not even half the size of the one Tony sent her after their first date, but these are different. These are the flowers she should have gotten, and she isn’t surprised that Bucky picks flowers that shine like the stars. 

“You look very handsome.” Y/n observes and slips her purse over her head, locking the door behind her, and she adds with a smirk, “Calendar ready if I can say so.”

Bucky hangs his head in defeat, but she can see the smile on his face  — she loves that smile. 

“I was thinkin’ we could walk. The place I have in mind is not that far.”

“Where are we going?” She asks as she takes the hand that’s outstretched for her and leans into Bucky as they walk down the street, right past her shop window with the new display — a romance novel featured in the middle. Natasha had teased her about that when she came by on Wednesday.

“You’ll see, Beck. It’s not that far.”

He had been right, it’s a short walk. Only twenty minutes or so. She tells him about her day on the trek over and asks about his. Of course, she checks up on sweet little Ori and makes sure he knows how much she misses her. Bucky will never stop loving how much Y/n loves the first woman in his life.

“Buck!” She screeches when spots the building they are approaching. “Laser tag?!” 

Bucky chuckles and kisses the back of the hand he’s holding, answering against her soft skin, “Yeah, I know dates are usually dinner and wine and all that, but I thought this is more… us.”

“It is us.” Y/n’s smile softens, and she squeezes his hand. “Can I go kick your butt now?”

“You’re gettin’ a little ahead of yourself, Beck. I’m pretty good at laser tag.” 

“Stow it, Barnes. Get in there so I can whip your cute butt.” 

Y/n can now admit she was too cocky when they arrived an hour ago. Bucky is good at laser tag; it turns out. Too good or he simply knows her too well. He continues to anticipate every move she attempts to make, and now she’s cornered, with no means of escape, and she hates to lose.

“Beck, you may as well come out. There’s nowhere to go, baby.”

A galaxy printed leg pops out from behind the wall; the owner of the said leg is hiding behind.  Bucky had been better than she predicted, and there is no way she is going to win now that he has her cornered in. So she does what any reasonable girlfriend would do. 

“Okay, okay. Uncle! Just don’t shoot me. Pretty please?” 

Bucky walks around the wall, gun still drawn in case she’s trying to trick him, but all he finds is Y/n, looking pitiful with her out her bottom lip as far as it can go, and he drops his ‘weapon.’ Bucky hooks his arm around her neck and pulls her into his space and kisses her. He can’t help it. He’s held out as long as he can, but he can’t go another minute without the feel of her lips brushing against his. His kiss is heated and languid. His lips are soft like she remembers, and her heart flutters when the arm around her pulls her closer, tucking her into his body.

Natasha is right. It’s the kissing that makes the difference, and boy — Bucky knows how to kiss. They need to do this more often. Kissing more often is a must, but not now. She has something else in mind for right now.

A soft beeping sounds off between them, and Bucky slowly pulls away from her lips to look down at his chest plate, vibrating and flashing red.

She shot him.  

“Ohh, you’re in trouble now, Beck.” He pecks her lips one more time. Okay, two more times. Once more, to be sure. “You better run, sweetheart. I’m only givin’ you a five-second head start.”

“Bucky…” She takes several steps back from him, grinning. “Don’t you dare.”

“You better move that cute little ass of yours, babydoll. It’s about to be mine.” 

---------

This could quite possibly be the best date of her life. As if laser tag wasn’t already amazing, Bucky took her to her favorite taco truck. Tacos and Bucky? It can’t get much better. Maybe if they had a pizza taco. Or one of pizza cone things! Second date is all about the pizza cone. Tonight was perfect and kicking Bucky’s butt at laser tag only makes it that much sweeter. As soon as they sat down to eat, Y/n sent Sam a text letting him know of her victory and giving him rights to rag on Bucky — only if he videos Bucky’s face when he does.

“You let your guard down, Bucky. That's what happens when you let yourself get distracted.”

“I was kissin’ my girl!”

Y/n steals a chip from the paper carton his tacos came in to help distract from her the butterflies in her stomach and the flutter in her heart. It happens every time he says that. She doesn’t think it will ever stop — she hopes it never does.  

“Well, you should have known better. When I play, I play to win, Bucky.”

Bucky grins and leans back against the cement wall, their picnic table is resting against, staring at her wistfully and tells her with a wink, “Whatever you say, Beck.”

Y/n snuggles back against his chest, and Bucky’s arms immediately wrap around her. She sighs at the content, feeling warming her chest. There’s only one person she has to thank for that —  two technically, but one is spending the night with her Uncle Steve. 

“Thank you for tonight. I had so much fun,” She tells him earnestly. 

“So did I. I haven’t had this much fun since we went to the zoo. Thank you for spending your one night off this week with me.”

Bucky realizes just how true everything he said is. He’s gone on plenty of dates, but none have been fun — not like this they hadn’t. None of them were silly and playful. He would never think to take a girl to laser tag and then a food truck for dinner, but with Y/n, it’s the only thing that feels right, and not once did he think about his grocery list, work or what chores he had to do tomorrow.

“I don’t know if you’ve realized,” She retorts with a tiny smile, “but I kind of want to spend every night of the week with you.”

In truth, so does he. Bucky wished they were spending every night together. He would give almost anything for this night to drag on just a little longer. 

“So,” Y/n leans her head back on his shoulder and stares into his eyes, “Ori is at Steve’s all night, right?”

Bucky grins.

“What did ya have in mind, Beck?”

-------

Y/n stumbles backward into the brownstone with Bucky attached to her lips, the smell of coffee, pancakes, and paint making her grin. She throws her jacket on the couch as Bucky’s foot catches the door and kicks it’s closed. He’s not about to take his hands off her even to close the door. Bucky hasn’t cleaned in over a week. There are clothes on the washer, bowls in the dish rack that have been drying for five or six days now, and Ori’s toys, well they are always present and—

'No, backtalk! I have a laser, and I will use it!'

They are everywhere.

Y/n breaks into a fit of giggles right there against his lips, putting a pause on all the kissing. Bucky might love her more for it. She doesn’t care that toys are thrown all over the living room floor and that Buzz is quite literally a buzz kill. She doesn't get mad or annoyed with the reminder of Ori's presence in their lives — she laughs instead. Bucky grins and slides his hands down her backside, gripping the back of her thighs and wrapping her legs around his waist in one quick move.

Bucky kisses her lips — “How about I just carry you, yeah?” Another kiss brushing against soft lips — “Lightyear and Star Command are really killin’ the mood.”

“I dunno,” She mumbles through several more kisses and tightens her legs around his waist, grinning widely at the feel of him pressing between her legs. 

“Doesn’t feel like he’s killed the mood.”

The squeak is there; the one Bucky knows so well. He barely hears it this time. The creek in the stairs in the last thing on his mind while Y/n is wrapped in his arms. Buzz didn’t kill the mood, but a squeak coming from anything but Y/n could make those pretty lips leave his skin, and he hates that idea.

Thankfully, when he left in a rush to drop off Ori before their date, he left his door open and, on Natasha’s advice, made his bed. It’s not anything special, no throw pillows or anything like that, but at least his blankets aren’t crumbled in a pile in the middle of his bed. Bucky lowers her to the floor, tossing his jacket onto the chair, watching as Y/n kicks her boots off.

Y/n slips her hands under his shirt, letting her fingers ghost over his muscles. She grips the hem of his shirt and tugs his shirt over his head, but the buttons get caught around the chain he always wears, and it gets stuck around his nose. Bucky chuckles through the fabric and steps back from her, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor.

She giggles and grabs the glinting silver necklace that fell back against his tanned skin. She pulls him back, her lips finding his with ease, tongues slipping past parted lips, and breath meeting. The backs of her knees hit the bed, and she flops back against the grey and black comforter. Her foot runs up the outside of his leg, and Bucky catches it when it reaches his hips. The slow trail of his hand running up her calf and then her thigh makes her shudder, Bucky grins and stops when he reaches the top of her tights — they come off with expertise and so does that pretty skirt he’s been watching bounce all night.

Bucky gulps looking down at Y/n, laying in nothing but that sheer black lingerie, embellished with tiny stars. The rush of the night comes to a stall as he takes her in. Her foot taps his thigh, and she raises her brow, silently asking what is taking him so long. He grins and coming out of his daze — the rush is back just like that, Bucky flings his jeans across the room, tossing them right into the nightstand and nearly knocking the lamp over.  Beck covers her mouth to stifle her laughter. He grins and bites her hip playfully as he crawls up her body.

"You laughin' at me baby?" She hums quietly just enough that he can feel the vibrations running through her.

“I like that.”

Bucky looks up at the soft whisper of her words and smiles. “Like what? Teasing me?”

Y/n grins and runs her hand through his hair, shaking her head. She regards him quietly for a moment before answering him properly, “I do like that, but I meant when you call me baby. I like it when you call me yours.”

Bucky presses a light kiss to her stomach and slowly crawls up her body until they are nose to nose. “You like when I call you sweet things, Beck, baby?”

She stares up at him, the gravity of what she feels for him clutching at her throat and keeping her from replying. She can only nod and slide her hands around his neck, the tremble in her fingers not going unnoticed by the man hovering over her. Nothing about her goes unnoticed to Bucky. He catches every change, every flutter, and knows every beat in that pretty soul she bares so freely.

It’s only been five months since he met her, and it’s too early to talk about such things, but he’s learned every path to her heart and then some.

Bucky settles on his forearms and lets his weight rest heavy on her. He gazes down at her for a beat, his fingers twirling the strands of her hair between his fingers. “I like calling you my girl, too. I’m sorry, it took so long for me to realize what I had right in front of me.”

“It’s okay.” She breathes, brushing her lips over his, and bumping their noses together. “I don’t believe in all that fairytale, falling in love at first sight nonsense. You know that.”

He grins. Bucky does know that. It’s one of the reasons they fit together so well. They both know there isn’t some secret answer, some special deal the stars made in exchange for their love — if they want to love each other, they have to work at it every day for the rest of their lives, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t some magic left in the world.

“Yeah, I do. I do know that. I didn’t believe in any of that either. Until you.”

“W—what?”

“I didn’t know when I first met you, but, baby, my heart was yours from that very first day I walked into the bookstore.” 

Tears are filling her eyes faster than she can stop them, she’s quick to blink away the ones that Bucky doesn’t catch with his lips. He places a soft kiss under her left eye, letting his hands wander her skin and whispers, “I’ll keep calling you baby if you call me something sweet, too.”

“Hmmm,” her breath hitches when she feels his fingers running up her inner thigh. Somehow she manages to get out a breathy retort. “Umm, how about I can be your girl, and I can call you Mr. December. Or, wait, what do they call the guys in Playgirl? Are they called bunnies, too?”  Bucky’s hand freezes and finds her playful glare and teasing smirk.

“You can be my bunny.”

Bucky has to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing, and he’s nearly successful. No one heard those few snickers anyway. Bucky bites her neck playfully, making her squeak and his fingers dig into her thighs, nothing painful just hard enough to make her squirm.

“Oh, you’re in so much trouble. So much for being my sweet girl.”

Y/n leans up just as Bucky is leaning down, making their foreheads clunk, and they both dissolve in a fit of laughter. Bucky kisses the spot on her forehead where they knocked heads and then her nose, her cheek and that spot on her collar bone — the one that makes her shiver.

It’s all hands and lips from here. Fingertips brush bra straps to the side, tugging at boxers and finding paths never traveled. Y/n can feel how desperate he is for her, resting hard against her thigh — it makes her wiggle under him, and a breathless please falls from her lips.  The only light is the glow from the light over the stairway spilling in through the open door and the bit of moonlight slipping through the cracks in the blinds over Bucky’s bed. Y/n likes to watch the pale blue hue fall over the muscles in Bucky’s Back as he works her panties down. There’s a rustling in the side table and a crinkle she knows.

Bucky attempts to rip it open, but his fingers fumble for a second, and her laugh makes him grin. He manages to get the dreaded foil package open and rolls the condom on with a soft grumble from him and another chuckle from Y/n.

The laughing quiets, and soon all that can be heard are heavy breaths, soft moans, and quiet declarations. I got ya, baby. That’s my girl. Come on, beautiful, come for me.  Bucky’s forehead rests against hers, eyes anchored in one another because Bucky won’t have their first time be anything other than true to who they are. They laugh and joke and find solace in each other, so making love to her for the first time wasn’t going to be anything less than them.

Bucky slips out of bed and is gone for only a second, but she’s too drunk on the stars to notice how long he’s gone. The matress dips from his weight and an arm come to rest above her head as they catch their breath. She instinctively curls into the heat he’s radiating, and Bucky fiddles with the blankets until they are both snuggled under the blanket and around each other — laying skin on skin. 

“Your Brooklyn really came out there,” Y/n’s soft voice fills the empty quiet makeing Bucky grin and he places a kiss on the top of her head. He’s never paid much attention before and certainly wasn’t focused on the noises he was making a few moments ago.

“Did it? I didn’t notice, darlin’. I was too busy listening to the sweet purrs you were makin’.”

Y/n smacks his arm gently and rests her head on his chest, fingers playing together and legs tangled around each other. It’s quiet, but not silent — there’s the hum of the air conditioning and beat of Bucky’s heart under her ear, soft breaths that she wants to feel against her skin again. Even the stars are whispering tonight, and Y/n knows she was foolish to think what they have could ever be considered something as silly and mundane just friends.

“Well, I’ve never done that with a friend.”

Bucky’s body shakes from laughter under her. She presses her cold nose into the crook of his neck and sighs happily. Y/n likes that he lets her be her, even here. Even in a moment that should be serious -- sensual, they joke and giggle and play. Those bits of silly sweetness only make it better. Not once did it diminish the moment, nothing was cheapened by their playfulness.  

“Beck?”

“Hm?”

“This might be too soon. I know this is our first date and all, but it doesn’t feel like a first date, and I’ve been feeling this for… well, since Ori’s birthday, if I’m bein’ honest, way before then and— and…” She grins at his hesitation and lifts her head to meet his nervous gaze.

“I love you, too, Bucky.”

Bucky grins and flips her onto her back, leaning over her. He bumps their noses together and slides his hand under the sheet, giving her exposed thigh a squeeze. 

“Round two?” 

Y/n’s brow raises, and he can see the questions sparkling in her eyes, Again? Right now?

“When I play, I play to win, Y/n.”

[punk-is-notdead]

Fic Title: Champagne and Showers, by tfw_cas

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Jensen Ackles Misha Collins Jared Padalecki Photo Shoots Fluff Smut Shower Sex Hand Jobs Oral Sex Mild Angst Established Relationship

Summary: The final Entertainment Weekly photoshoot for the stars of Supernatural brings mixed emotions, but Jensen and Misha know the perfect way to comfort each other.

AO3

This fic was inspired by this sweetly soft kiss, which brought out the romantic in me. 

Jensen is wet and sticky, and not in a good way. Granted, he'd really enjoyed getting that way, but now it’s getting pretty gross.

It’s a hot summer’s day in California, and he, Misha and Jared have spent the best part of it doing a photoshoot for Entertainment Weekly. As always, it’s been a lot of fun, although there'd been an emotional moment when it hit home that this would be the last one they would do, and all three of them had gotten a tear or two in their eyes. However, now that the champagne has come out things have livened up.

Some of it’s been imbibed, sure - enough to give Jensen a pleasant buzz - but most of it’s been sprayed over them. Or dumped unceremoniously on their heads… hence the wet and sticky part.

As the shoot comes to an end and hugs are exchanged all round, he pulls Misha into his arms and is hit by a sudden wave of affection (not actually that unusual when it comes to Misha). Putting his lips next to his ear, Jensen whispers, “I love you.”

The hug lingers as Misha throws his arms around Jensen’s neck - while keeping hold of the champagne bottle - and pulls him in closer. They both feel the need to hold onto each other for as long as possible, but eventually Jensen knows it’s time to let go, and he pats Misha a couple of times on the back before drawing back. When he looks at Misha’s face, however, Jensen is shocked to see that those usually stunning blue eyes are slightly red and watery, and he looks like he’s struggling to contain his emotions.

Well, fuck,    that won’t do at all. Jensen can’t bear the thought of Misha being upset, so as he flashes one of his most charming smiles at the camera, he tries to take hold of Misha’s arm… or even his hand, as a gesture of comfort. Before he’s managed to get his hand around Misha’s arm though, he decides it isn’t enough contact, so he steps closer and wraps his arm around him to draw him into a side hug. Jensen leans into Misha’s personal space as he pulls them together, and as Misha puts his arm around Jensen and pats him on the back in return, Jensen can see that Misha is still trying to be professional and smile for the camera. (The irony isn't lost on Jensen that, although he's the one who has a background in modelling, it’s him now giving zero fucks, while Misha’s trying to carry on until the camera stops rolling.)

Then Jensen does something he wouldn’t normally do… well, not in public anyway. After another smile in the direction of the camera, he turns to Misha and places a kiss upon his cheek, letting his lips linger for a long moment as he drinks the other man in. The skin is soft and warm, and tastes of a mixture of champagne and something undefinable that’s uniquely Misha, and Jensen has to pull himself away before it starts to look inappropriate.      If they were alone right now…    

He knows that if it had been Jared, he would have followed up the kiss by licking Misha‘s face - Jared's basically a giant puppy, after all - but Jensen is more reserved; plus his relationship with Misha is completely different.

Speaking of… there’s one last crushing hug for each of them from Jared, and then they’re good to go, with a couple more bottles of champagne as a gift courtesy of Entertainment Weekly. Their driver for the day has returned, and he drives them back to their hotel. Thankfully, he seems to have been forewarned about them being covered in alcohol, and he’s put plastic covering on the seats. It’s a bit uncomfortable to sit on, but it’s only a fifteen minute drive before they’re climbing out and thanking him for his service.

There are only a few people around, so they’re able to slip through the entrance unnoticed, then through the foyer and into the elevator. The smell of the stale champagne is just nasty now, and Jensen is grateful that Jared doesn’t add to it by letting out one of his legendary farts.

“Man, that was fun.” Jared seems to be addressing himself more than them, as he grins at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah, it was.” Jensen laughs at Jared’s goofiness, and holds one of the bottles of champagne in a salute. “This definitely helped.”

Misha chuckles and shakes his head as he grabs the bottom of his sweater and pulls it away from his body. “I’d rather drink it than… this.”

“At least you didn’t get half a bottle poured over your head.” Jensen winks at Misha to let him know there are no hard feelings, and Misha gives him a sheepish look.

The elevator pings for Jared’s floor, and as he gets out he asks, “See you guys later for dinner?”

“Sure. I’ll text you when we’re ready.” Jensen nods at him as the door closes, then they travel one more floor before it pings again.

His and Misha’s rooms are across from each other, but one of them isn’t going to be used. This time it’s Misha’s room that will be left unoccupied, but he’s keeping his luggage in there anyway. Misha swipes his key card and goes inside, coming out a minute or two later with a change of clothes - that he holds out in front of him for fear of contamination - and his favourite watermelon body wash.

Jensen gives one of his seductive winks, that he knows turns Misha to mush, before they cross the hallway to his room, and he lets them in. As the door closes behind them he sighs, and puts the bottle on the table, then turns to Misha, who’s just finished laying his clothes carefully on the sofa.

Walking over to him, Jensen searches his eyes. “How you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Misha says, smiling tenderly before Jensen moves closer and kisses along his jaw.

When he finds Misha’s lips, Misha hums contentedly, his hands coming up to tangle in Jensen’s hair. They only stay for a moment, before he pulls away, grimacing.

“That feels disgusting,” he chuckles.

“Well then, we should probably get in the shower.” Jensen takes hold of the hem of Misha’s sweater and pulls it over his head. Misha’s hair is sticking up at all angles, and Jensen gazes fondly at him as he drops the sweater to the floor.

Wordlessly, he removes his own shirt and drops it down with the sweater, then unbuckles Misha’s belt and pulls it through the loops. After he’s put it to one side, he pops the button on his jeans and lowers the zipper, then slides them down Misha’s thighs to reveal his lucky orange underwear. As he pulls them down further, he kisses down Misha’s chest and over his hip bones, playfully pulling at the waistband of the boxers with his teeth.

Misha gazes down at him through his eyelashes, and he reaches his hand out to cup Jensen’s face. Jensen’s breath hitches as he leans into Misha’s touch for a moment before finishing what he started; removing Misha’s jeans, socks and shoes.

When he’s back to his feet, he makes quick work of the rest of his own clothes, until they’re both wearing nothing but boxers. Jensen takes Misha by the hand and leads him to the bathroom, leaving the pile of clothing on the floor. Jensen never lets go of Misha's hand, even as he turns on the shower and adjusts the settings until the temperature is perfect.

Once the shower’s ready, he slips out of his boxers and discards them, motioning for Misha to do the same. Misha follows suit, maintaining eye contact as they fall to the floor and his cock springs free… Jensen doesn’t touch, but he has plans for it later.

He takes both of Misha’s hands in his own and they step under the spray together, the warm water feeling soothing and cleansing on his skin. He dips his head under the water and lets the spray run over his hair and down his back, and when he comes back up for air Misha is staring at him, his expression full of desire.

He licks over his bottom lip as he steps closer to Jensen, reaching out and running his hand through Jensen's dripping wet hair. “That's much more preferable than the champagne,” he laughs softly.

"To be fair though, it was you that poured it on my head." Jensen moves closer still, until he can brush their lips together.

“Yeah, l-” Misha trails off as he slides his hands around Jensen’s back and pulls him forward until their bodies are touching, chest to thighs. “I thought I’d like to see you all wet,” he murmurs as he starts kissing down Jensen’s throat.

“Well, you got your wish.” Jensen gasps as Misha leaves a trail of kisses that ends at his nipple, and he licks at it. “F… fuck, yeah.”

Jensen loses himself in the sensation for a minute, before he reaches between them and takes hold of Misha’s cock. As he begins to stroke, Misha releases his nipple, and Jensen presses their lips together in a kiss that starts off sweet, but quickly becomes more passionate.

Misha’s hands are on Jensen’s ass, and Jensen’s hand that isn’t stroking Misha’s cock tangles in his hair. He pushes his tongue past those lips he craves so much, and explores his mouth as he speeds up his strokes.

As Misha gets closer to his orgasm, he breaks off the kiss, chest heaving and eyes darkened with desire as he thrusts into Jensen’s hand.

“That’s it, angel,” Jensen urges (yes, he knows that Misha isn't actually an angel, but he might as well be as far as Jensen is concerned). “Come for me. I wanna see you.”

Misha lets out a loud groan and rests his forehead on Jensen’s shoulder for a moment, before lifting his head again. “I love you too,” he gasps out as his thrusts become erratic and he comes over Jensen’s hand.

“I know,” Jensen says, working Misha through his climax until he’s spent, before rinsing his hand under the spray.

It takes Misha a minute or two to collect himself, but once he’s recovered, he moves with a purpose, pushing Jensen back against the tiles and dropping to his knees in front of him. He takes Jensen’s cock in his hand and plants a kiss on the tip, before leaning forward and swallowing him down and putting that talented tongue to good use.

Jensen thumps his head back on the tiles as Misha starts bobbing his head backwards and forwards, taking as much of him into his mouth as he can. “Mish,” Jensen whispers, trying to stop himself from thrusting into Misha’s mouth.

He reaches down and tangles his hands in Misha’s hair, pulling at the strands a little as Misha slips his hands around to grab Jensen’s ass cheeks and squeezes. It’s an encouragement for Jensen to move, so he does, unable to hold back the increasingly loud moans he’s letting out.

What with the wet heat of that mouth, and the way Misha’s using his tongue and urging him to move, it doesn’t take long for Jensen to feel that familiar sensation. He isn’t going to last much longer, and he both regrets the hell out of that, and needs to come right fucking now.

“Mish… fuck, baby,” he groans out as he lets go and floods Misha’s mouth with his come. Misha gazes up at him adoringly as he swallows everything he gives him, and Jensen is filled with a mixture of love and lust.

When his orgasm has slowed to a stop, Misha pulls off him and gets back to his feet. He draws Jensen into his arms and finds his mouth with his own, pouring all his love into the kiss, and Jensen just melts into him. He loves the feel of those muscles as they hold him; they’re reassuring, as well as being hot as fuck.

They eventually stop kissing and get washed, then dry themselves off in a comfortable silence. Misha’s hair is sticking up at all angles, and Jensen tries to tame it… but not too much. He’s described as having ‘sex hair’ for a reason, after all.

“I think in the future, we should stick to getting wet in the normal way,” Misha chuckles, as he gestures towards the shower, before grimacing at the pile of clothes on the floor.

Jensen couldn’t agree more, although he isn’t going to complain about what came after… not for one second. “You got it, Mish. Next time we’ll get straight in the shower.”

Yes… today might have been the end of an era for the show, but there would definitely be a next time for them.

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Kitten

This is a new fic I’m starting. It is gonna be very heavy with BDSM, kitten play and maybe even some DDLG. I made this part to see how you my readers would like something like this. Also please let me know if y'all want her to be new to the BDSM world or her knowing something about it.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!! 

Fic Summery: Sophia has never known love, her always picking the “good guy” him always turning out to be like a snake in the weeds. What will happen when shes took home one night by a “bad guy” him showing her things she never knew about herself.

Part Summery: Sophia finds her boyfriend cheating her getting drunk and going home with a stranger.

Warnings:Abuse, cheating mentioned I think that’s it. 

Let me know if you want to be tagged would love to add you.

I walked up the steps to my shared apartment. Looking for my keys in my  purse I stepped when I bumped into the girl from the apartment next to me. I could never remember her name.

“Oh sorry.” I say smiling at her.

“It’s no problem. I umm I’m sorry.” She says quickly walking around me and down the steps.

I lifted my eyebrow in confusion at her behavior and finished climbing the steps.

When I got to the third floor I started to walk down the hall. I stopped at door 369 and put my key in the nob.

Unlocking it I pushed the door only to stop in my tracks. On the couch was what I thought to be the man that loved me. He was on top of a girl moaning his name.

My first thought was to scream as my stomach turned in disgust but I couldn’t find the voice. I didn’t bother closing the door or even getting my key out of the nob.

I walked back down the hallway slowly almost wishing they would notice the food and he would come after me. But I really didn’t want that. I wouldn’t know what to say if he did.

When I got to the steps I picked up my pace suddenly wanting to be as far away from him as I could. Taking two at a time I felt the sting behind my eyes and my throat tighten up. My vision was blurry with tears.

As if to kick me while I was down my foot missed a step and I started to fall on my face. I react by catching myself but not before I feel my ankle twist.

Sitting down I pull my foot up to my lap and pull my jeans up to look at my ankle. It was red, the blood rushing to repair the damage. I touch it and let out a whimper knowing it will be bruised maybe when worse.

Wiping the tears off my face I pull myself and slowly step down. A hot sharp pain shoots up my leg telling me that my ankle was more than bruised.

I should have got ice to put on it but instead I continue down the steps. Reaching the bottom I walk as best I could to the parking lot.

I was halfway to my car when I realized I didn’t have the key. Not wanting to return to my apartment I limp over to the sidewalk.

The streat busy with traffic and people. I didn’t live in the best part of town so there was always something going on.

Tonight just happened to be the opening of a new club. It was some fancy name I didn’t bother pronouncing but that didn’t stop me from walking across the street.

I stood in the line knowing I looked out of place in simple jeans and a button up. When the girl in front of me looked me up and down in shock I sighed knowing they most likely wouldn’t even let me in like this. 

Putting my purse on my elbow I pulled my black button up from my waistband and unbuttoned the top few buttons letting me show just enough to look like I wanted to seem sexy. I uncliped my hair letting the brunette curls fall around my face. I didn’t bother trying to fix it, messy hair was hot right?

The line gave me enough time to touch up my natural make up. I put red lipstick on hoping I now looked like I cared or at least tried.

I finished just in time to dig out my ID and hand it to the bouncer.

“Twenty three huh?” He asks, looking me up and down.

Sighing I look up at him nodding. He made my 5’3 frame look three foot.

“I know I look young being short doesn't help but I promise you I’m legal. I just walked in on my boyfriend cheating on me and I could use a drink or two.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a lightweight.” He says chuckling at me and handing me back my ID.

He lifts up the velvet rope letting me pass.

“Thanks.” I say walking into the building the base attacking my system first it followed by the smell of liquor and sex.

I walked through the crowd of people, it filling up despite being barley past six but I guess a new club was just that new.

I push my way to the bar, it being tended by both a woman and man. I get the girl her white hair glowing under the black lights.

Her lip was pierced along with her eyebrow and her arms were painted with flower tattoos. She was pretty.

“ID please.” She yells over the music.

I hand it to her, she glances at it and gives it back.

“What can I get you?”

“As long as it’s sweet I don’t care.” I yell back.

The bouncer was right. I was a lightweight but at least I would admit it.

She smiles and nods at me as if she knows exactly what to make me. A few minutes later she returns with a pina colada 

I thank her and take a drink, the sweet taste of coconut and rum filling my mouth.

“Got cheated on huh?” She asks, flicking her hair out of the way. It let me see that the underside was dyed a dark red.

“Am I that transparent?”

“I have been doing this for a while. I know the look. But you don’t seem that upset so I’m guessing it’s not the first time?”

“No it is as far as I know. I guess I expected it.” I say stirring my drink with my straw.

She glanced at my hand, her eyes jumping to the movement but they stayed there. I look at my left hand seeing that my sleeve has ridden up showing the news bruises he left on me. His fingerprints clearly wrapped around my wrist.

Pulling my sleeve up I laid my hand in my lap.

“Do you have somewhere to go?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thank you though.” I say smiling at her.

It was a lie but she seemed to believe it, her smiling at me as she was called away by another customer.

Picking up my drink I walk to one of the tables in the corner. A handful of them having tall chairs next to them.

I quickly sat at one not wanting to stand any longer my ankle was throbbing at this point. I laid my purse in my lap and put my drink on the table getting comfortable.

A half an hour later I was already on my second drink. I could feel the warm feeling starting to spread through me which I was perfectly okay with.

It wasn’t like I had to drive to get home.

When a girl dressed in a cat custom walked up to me and placed another drink on my table I looked at her.

“I didn’t order this.” I say politely.

“I know Miss, the gentleman over there ordered it for you. He also paid for your other drinks.” She says guestering to an older man in one of the booths in the wall.

I couldn just make him out from where I was, so I knew he could see me looking at him. He lifted his glass at me and nodded his head.

“Well tell him thank you for me.” I say taking the drink.

I didn’t think that happened in real life but I wasn’t about to turn it down. Despite that I couldn’t help like I was being watched.

Glancing back up I meet the eyes of the man again. He tilted his head back slightly lifting his hand he motioned me over with his finger.

Blushing I look at the table. I wasn’t here to get picked up or hit on. I came here to shed a few tears and go back home.

But that was slipping from my mind as I looked back up to run my eyes over him. 

He looked to be in his mid thirties or early forties. He was tall with a strong build. I shivered under his gaze thinking about how easily he could hurt me.

He moved his arm laying it on the back of the seat, making the muscle under his skin show how toned he was. He could throw my small frame across the room with ease.

Shaking my head from that thought I moved my eyes to his face. A dusting of stubble covered his strong jaw. It was groomed enough that he looked good for a night out but he still looked rugged. His hair was short enough to run your fingers through the top and the sides were neatly trimmed. Despite his hard extearer his eyes were soft. The dark club kept me from seeing their color but he didn’t seem threatening.

When his eyes met mine I looked down at my hands wishing her would stop looking at me. As if I wasn’t just caught starting at him. But he didn't seem to mind. A smirk on his face told me he liked me looking.

I glanced up again telling myself this was my last peak but he was gone. My heart almost dropped at that. I bite my lip and bend my head down to take a drink.

It snaps up when a familiar voice fills my ears. Standing in front of me was the man that hurt me again today.

We quickly made eye contact making him move even closer to me. Him towering over me. Reminding me that he’s big and I’m small.

“Why am I not surprised you can’t stay away from drinking can you? Getting abused in your last relationship isn’t an excuse.”

“Shut up.” I say cutting him off.

The three drinks fogging my brain.

“Don’t try to act like you care. I know that you know that I know you cheated. I caught you so at least let me get drunk. I’ll get my crap tomorrow.” I am tired of hearing his spill.

I did drink when he first met me but I wasn’t a drunk. I knew when to stop like now I should stop.

“WHat are you talking about, you are not leaving. Go get yourself cleaned up, you look like crap.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I say standing up and trying to walk away from him.

“You're funny. You better listen to me.” He says, clenching his jaw, snatching my purse out of my hands and walking towards the door.

Sighing I plop myself back down and lay my head on my folded arms. I feel nothing. I was numb used to the pain. 

Taking a breath I push myself up and walk to the bathroom. It would be worse if I made him wait.

I glance over my shoulder seeing him at the table I was just at. The glare in his face told me he pissed.

He looked around him, spotting me and started walking towards me. My heart jumps telling my brain to run. For once I listened.

Walking through the crowded dance floor, I hoped he would leave me alone and give up. Pushing through the otherside of the I glanced over my shoulder to see if I lost him. That was a bad idea when I tripped over my own two feet landing in someone's lap.

“I’m so sorry.” I say quickly trying to get up.

My rum filled brain only lets me make it to the booth seat right next to the man. I realize it’s the one from before.

‘The hot one.’ I think but shake my head of the thought.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, his voice deep.

He lifts his hand, making me flinch, his eyes narrow him, dropping his hand to rest behind me on the back of the seat.

“I’m sorry I didn't mean to scare you sweetheart.”

“It’s okay.” I say shaking my head

Our conversation is ended when I’m jerked up from someone grabbing my arm roughly. I meet the dark eyes of the man who terrified me.

“Why you little-.” He says lifting his hand.

He was stopped by the man standing up and easily stepping between us. My boyfriend's hand dropped from my arm.

“You got a problem?” He asks, getting in the mistrymans face.

He looks him up and down having a few inches and a lot more music on my boyfriend. “No, I was just leaving.” He says, turning to me his green eyes falling on my face.

He holds his hand out to me and smiles.

“Come on sweetheart I’ll take you home.” He says kindly.

Not wanting to be around my boyfriend I take this stranger's hand letting him pull me to my feet.

“She's not-.”

The mystery man looks at him, his eyes darken.

“I suggest you shut up. I promise I’ll take better care of her then you ever did.” He says pulling me behind him as he heads for the door.

I don’t realize that’s where we are going till we are outside. In my hazey state I let him lead me to a black impala. I don’t listen to the smart part of my brain as I get inside him taking off towards the interstate.

“Where are we going?” I ask turning to look at him.

I wasn’t scared, that was something that I only felt at work.

Now that we were out of the dark club and under the lights of the city I realized he was better looking then I thought.

He was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt but he wore it as if it was a thousands dollar suit.

“I’m taking you back to my place.” He says glancing at me.

“Are you going to kill me?” I ask, earning a laugh.

“No I’m not going to kill you. Or try and have sex with you.” He says looking me up and down.

It made me feel sexy. I clamp my legs together not wanting to feel this way I didn’t need to get in even more trouble.

“Why were you at that cub then if you didn’t want sex?”

“The name caught my attention. I was hoping it was something else that I would find like minded people there.”

“Did you?”

Turning to face us at a red light from getting off the interstate he smiles at me. It was warm and it made my heart pitter patter in my chest. 

“We’ll see.” He says facing the road once again.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” I ask remembering his statement from moments ago.

“You are in the car right?” He says smiling that boyish grin again.

“But I won’t do that while you are drunk or before you give me consent.”

“Then why bring me with you?”

“To get you cleaned up and away from the dick sweetheart.”

“I have a name ya know.” I slur out laying on the cool window. My stomach, upset.

“I didn’t doubt you did but you never told me. He says pulling down a country road.

“I thought you said you weren't killing me?” I ask looking at him.

Laughing he shakes his head as if that amused him.

“If I wanted you dead you would be, kitten.” He says his new pet name sounding way too dirty rolling off his tongue.

I stay silent as he turns a corner and pulls into an underground garage it blocked from the road. The lights come on as we enter showing different cars from all different ages.

He parks his car in the middle and gets out. Walking around it he opens my door and offers me his hand.

“Come on let's get you laid down before you fall down.”

“I’m fine.” I say standing up the world spinning around me.

I feel my knees buckle as something hot rushes up my stomach. I puke up everything in my stomach which was just what I drank at the club.

I whimper and melt into this man’s arms.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’ll get Sam to clean it up.” He says scooping me into his arms and carrying me somewhere.

I don’t know where, starting to doze off. I wake up when something wet touches my face. I’m leaned over a tub I guess in case I puke again. The guy behind me is cleaning my face off.

“I’m Sophia.” I say looking up at him.

He smiles at me, his green eyes kind.

“Nice to meet you Sophia I’m Dean.”

I smile at him again and lay my head down on the cold tub. He helps me brush my teeth, the world spinning and my stomach turning everytime I think about moving. I was in and out of awake and asleep as he took care of me.

Picking me up once again he carries me into a bedroom. It reminded me of a dorm room but there are no windows.

Laying me down on the bed he starts to walk off but I don’t want him to leave. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t want to be alone. Plus I liked being around him. He somehow made me feel safe.

I let out a grunt and held my arms up towards him. Giving me a half smile he kicks off his shoes and lays down next to me.

As if both of us have known each other for years I roll over laying my head on his chest and nuzzle into him. Him smelling like something warm or maybe he was just warm. My intoxicated mind, not making sense anymore.

“Sleep little one.” He says, which I do just that sleep finds me easier then it has in a long time.