#its almost like caffeine makes me sleepy

[zemfruit]

i drank cofe why tired

yesterday i drank energ drink, also tired

why

[ifimdreaming]

can i take you home?

luke hughes x reader || angst, fluff

request: “i like the idea of her best friend going to michigan/dating a former teammate of lukes so thats how luke and reader meet! i love angst and given that its lukes rookie year/she goes to college in another state, maybe they could be friends w benefits but both have strong feelings.”

author's note: i thought this request was so so cute so i kind of took it and ran. also kinda influenced by i miss you, im sorry by gracie abrams. this is also super long but i hope the ending is worth it. let me know if i should do more parts of this!

word count: 5.0k

-

Waking up to the sound of your best friend pounding on the guest bedroom door at 7am was not exactly the best way to start your day. But since you are staying the weekend in her student house that she shares with 5 other people, there are definitely unluckier ways you could have been awoken. 

“Morning sleepy head!!! I'm so happy you're up!” your best friend Emma almost shouts as she barges in the room, after you very reluctantly told her she could come in. She immediately begins opening the curtains, and rummaging through her closet to find her outfit for the day.

In her haste she almost spills the two cups of coffee she had brought up from the kitchen as she sets them on the dresser beside the bed, her mug being almost completely empty anyway. You can tell by her enthusiasm and caffeine intake that she has been up for quite a long time before deciding to wake you up. 

You groggily roll over and face away from the wide open curtains, not ready to face the day yet and really disappointed in yourself for choosing to drive up so late last night in the first place.

Of course you were happy to be able to visit your best friend, the two of you going to different schools making it incredibly hard to spend much time together anymore. But being back here brought back so many memories of the last time you visited. Both good and bad. And to be honest, all you could think about was him. From the very moment Emma invited you, he has been on your mind nonstop. 

The way he made you feel so utterly adored when he brought you back to his room, how he spoke to you so gently and quietly the one morning when you were hungover, the time he spilled and called you ‘his’ while you were in bed together, and how much it seemed like it would last forever. It was all coming back so strongly.

“So, what are the plans for the day Little Miss Sunshine?” you sit up, reluctantly speaking your first words of the day after clearing your throat. 

“Well! First I thought we'd go get bagels for breakfast from down the street, and then I think one of us may need a quick shower before we officially start our day…” Emma says with a hand on the side of her mouth, pretending to be saying a secret as she is side-eyeing you, and you just stare at her offendedly, “Aaand we are doing something tonight so maybe we should go shopping..” she says quickly and excitedly, clearly brushing past what exactly it is that we are doing tonight.

“Alright then.” you say as you check your phone for probably the 20th time in the 10 minutes you've been awake. And you can see Emma staring at you from the corner of your eye so you decide to throw your phone to the other side of the bed, getting up and ready to go. You knew she wasn't oblivious, but you did not want to acknowledge the look she was giving you right now, and honestly it did not seem necessary to bring anything up.

Besides, this weekend isn't even about him. Dylan's surprise birthday party is tomorrow and your best friend was so excited to be planning it with your help. She hadn't done anything this extravagant for her boyfriend before and she wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.

Obviously the last thing you would want to do is ruin this weekend for her, and your stupid feelings and non-relationship are included in that.

-

The walk to the bagel shop seemed awkwardly long as you were both not acknowledging the fact that your mind is very very distracted. It wasn't intentional. But feelings and places have such strong connections and the fact that things felt so unresolved was not helping. Everywhere you are here reminds you of him.

“How's your bagel?” Emma speaks up, finally breaking the silence on your walk home, thankfully giving you an opportunity to get out of your thoughts.

“Oh it's good! Thanks! I was super hungry…” you say, trying to muster up a believable enough reason for why you've been so off today. 

You continue walking and shuffling your feet in silence and are about to return back to the house before Emma looks at you and sighs loudly.

So. Close. You are literally about to step onto the driveway of the house when she stops you. 

“Ok can we just talk about it please? Because there is no way we are going to get through this entire weekend just ignoring it.” she says, stepping in front of you and blocking any sort of way for you to get out of this conversation. 

“What are you talking about?” you say with a grumble and a sigh. Knowing she is going to get it out of you. Obviously she would.

“Luke.” Emma says deadpan, waiting for your response.

For some reason at this moment you wanted to cry just hearing his name. But you also wanted to yell. Your feelings were confusing and annoying and it upset you to even have to talk about it with someone, even though you knew you should.

“I don't know. I DON'T KNOW. I can't stop thinking about him, and everything is so confusing.” you whisper-yell at her in frustration. 

It pained you to admit that you couldn't get him off your mind. You didn't realise how much you even liked him until having to admit that.

“He visited me during christmas… I mean, he did in the fall, but this time felt different.” You continue,  “We slept together again. Everything felt like it was going so well…And now nothing.” you admit to her and wipe your face with your sleeves, angry at the tears that have fallen from your eyes. 

“Has he called?” She asks warily.

“Once? Last week. It was short… but he sounded sad. He said he misses me. And he told me he really wanted to visit me. And I've texted him since then and no response.” you look down at your feet as you speak. It really shouldn't be this embarrassing to admit. It's not like you were in a relationship with him anyway.

“He's going to be here...tomorrow? I didn't know if you knew..” Emma says as she grabs your arm and slowly brings you close to her as you begin walking inside together and you nod your head in her direction.

You knew he would be here. Dylan is one of his best friends, obviously he isnt going to miss his 21st birthday. But with how things were currently going, it honestly made you wonder if Luke would even want you here. And what do his friends even know about you two? Has Luke said anything? So many questions are going through your head that it is almost making you dizzy.

-

The rest of the day is so much lighter after your earlier conversation. Emma is exponentially good at cheering people up, and maybe even to a fault, will always be on your side no matter what. But you appreciated it regardless.

You are currently finishing up putting on your makeup and getting ready to go out tonight, still very unaware of what the plan even is. But you didn't have much of a choice in the matter as Emma has picked out every aspect of your outfit tonight - down to the shoes, makeup, and jewellery.

Suddenly Emma gets a call from Dylan and runs into her bathroom to answer the phone, the music cutting out that was playing from her phone as she heads off, and silence filling the room.

You weren't intending to be eavesdropping, but you are able to hear muffled voices from the other side of the door and very hushed arguing that you couldn't quite make out. Making you curious as to what could possibly be going on tonight.

Emma saunters back into the room with hesitancy, her expression is scared and concerned at the same time as she is approaching you almost in slow-motion, saying nothing.

“What is it? Just spit it out.” you say, already knowing you are either about to hear the worst news of all time or the worst news of all time.

“Ok surprise! We're going out for sushi! Yay!” Emma says, obviously starting with the good news and you stay silent.

“And…Luke is coming out with us.” she continues, flinching at her own words as she plops herself on the bed across from you. You sit at her desk, makeup in hand, and cannot help but have an absolutely astonished look on your face. 

Nothing is able to even leave your mouth as her words run through your mind again and again.

“I am so SO sorry.” She starts. “One of the guys accidentally told Dylan that Luke is in town and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise for tomorrow, so I told Dylan that Luke and I were trying to surprise him tonight for dinner. I didn't know what else to say. It was literally the first thing that came to my mind. I'm so sorry.” she continues, worried she has done irreparable damage on your friendship.

“You can kill me now.” Emma blurts out defeatedly, wanting to keep the surprise for tomorrow and not wanting all her efforts to be ruined the day before the party.

Obviously you love that girl, but very much did want to kill her in this moment.

“Does Luke know I'm going to be there?” you ask, brushing past everything else she has said.

“Dylan said he would tell him, yeah, but if you don't want to come please don't feel like you have to.” she says with a small smile, hoping you have some-what forgiven her.

“No, I'll still come.” you say quietly but matter-of-factly.

If Luke knew you were coming, it would be weird if you decided to stay home now because of it, and besides, what would you do here alone? Thinking of what he would be doing and wishing you could read his mind is all you can think of.

“OH? This is good! Ok! Dylan said he is picking us up in 20 minutes!” Emma states, suddenly very excitedly, hoping it will cheer you up to see that she is excited. And as you continue getting ready, nervous energy and anticipation fill your body.

- 

Dylan shows up right on time, unfortunately for you, not giving you any extra time to sit and wallow in your feelings.

It was inevitable that you would be seeing Luke this weekend, but this quickly and under these conditions was not exactly ideal. You were hoping to at least be able to have a one-on-one conversation with him before being thrown into random get togethers where things have no chance but to be awkward.

The drive to dinner is surprisingly happy. Dylan seems so excited to be seeing his best friend again. He can't stop talking about the last time they saw each other and how long it has been. And Emma's laughter and giddy energy is helping you calm down and distract you just a little bit.

“The reservation is for 7pm so we might have to wait in the car for a few minutes.” Emma says, checking her phone as Dylan pulls up to the restaurant a bit early. 

The dim lighting and intimate booths look extremely inviting as you peer inside the windows of the restaurant from the parking lot. You can't help but get distracted by watching people inside as Emma and Dylan talk from the front seats of the car and are cutely chatting to each other quietly.

“There's my boy!” Dylan yells out as he jumps out of the driver's seat, running up to give Luke a hug across the parking lot.

“Ready?” Emma looks back and asks you, reassuringly placing her hand on your knee and rubbing her thumb up and down a few times.

“Guess so…” you say with a fake smile as you grab your purse from beside you, and as you are about to leave the car, you see a tall figure standing right outside your door.

Only a little bit startled, you look up to see Luke as he opens your door for you and greets you with a tired smile. He is dressed nicely in black pants and a cream cable knit sweater, his hair curly and tousled up like always. 

As you step out of the car he brings you into a tight hug, like he just couldn't wait to hold you again.

“I missed you…” Luke whispers so quietly into your ear that you almost couldn't hear him. He swiftly leaves a gentle kiss to the side of your head as he brings his hands just a bit lower down your back, “I’m sorry” he says quietly as he releases you.

As much as you want to reciprocate, you are so caught off guard by his words that you just stare up at him without a word.

“Alright let's go! I'm so hungry!” Dylan says, unaware of the tension, as he pats Luke's back and wraps an arm around him, walking in front of you and Emma and into the restaurant. 

Emma is glancing at you as you walk together, waiting to hear from you what Luke said, but you decide to ignore it with a shrug and she looks away. 

-

Dinner is filled with laughter and catching up with one another. Surprisingly it wasn't even half as awkward as you built it up to be. Dylan chatting away with Luke as you and Emma giggle across from each other about all the drama at your respective schools. 

Having a couple of drinks throughout the night was definitely helping, but regardless of that, you felt good. Really good.

“Luke, how's the love life going for you? You got a girl in Jersey?” Dylan asks with a laugh as Emma had just bragged about her and Dylan going on 2 years of being together.

She shoots you a regretful look as she hits Dylan's side with her elbow, not as discreetly as she probably wanted to, and your face turns bright red.

Luke looks down at his lap and shakes his head with a chuckle, seemingly avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.

“No man, no girl in jersey.” Luke says lightly as he takes a drink of his beer before the two of you make eye contact and he glances down to your fidgety hands that are in your lap. 

“My bad, my bad…” Dylan says with a laugh as he clears his throat and starts back to finishing the food on his plate, Emma quietly shushing her clueless boyfriend beside her.

Your nervous hands continue to pick at your cuticles and you look over to see Luke inching his hand closer beside yours on the booth bench. Looking up from your lap, you see him glancing back at you as he waits for your reaction before discreetly taking your hand in his under the table.

The feeling of his hand in yours is so comforting and familiar and immediately eases your anxiousness. But you still feel so conflicted.

Luke always knew how to comfort you and distract you from your thoughts when they were out of control. Especially during busy school semesters and many nights spent together with him keeping you company while you anxiously wrote papers and prepped for exams. 

He seemed to be there for you when it felt like you had no one else. At least that's how it used to feel. Now things feel so complicated. Not knowing the status of your relationship surprisingly taking a much larger toll on your ability to act like friends than you would have ever thought.

“So! I've got the bill tonight guys. Happy birthday Dyl!” Emma blurts out as the waiter approaches the table, she leans over to give her boyfriend a loving kiss, comfortably filling the awkward silence that had just taken over the table not long before.

“Thank you baby! And hey! thanks guys for coming out tonight too.” Dylan smiles at the both of you as he lifts up his glass for a toast. You all clink your glasses, wishing him happy birthdays that follow big swigs of your almost empty alcoholic beverages.

Walking out of the restaurant, your mind fills with running thoughts. You wish you had spoken to Luke more tonight but it was hard to not make anything obvious. He seemed good, but still weirdly sad and you wanted to talk to him about it so badly. You wanted to talk to him about everything.

As you near Dylan's car you feel Luke's hand brush against yours and lightly hold your wrist, turning you around to face him.

“Can I take you home?” Luke shyly asks you as you all stand in the parking lot together. You mutter a “sure” under your breath with a nod, and he looks to Dylan and Emma for confirmation, both of them nodding in agreement before bringing you into tight hugs and saying goodbyes.

“Tell me everything that happens girly.” Emma runs back over to you and whispers into your ear as she hugs you goodbye once more, and all you can do is let out a small laugh in response to her teenage-esque behaviour.

-

After Dylan and Emma drive away, the short walk over to Luke’s car suddenly seems agonisingly long and your heart is racing in anticipation. Over anything else that happens tonight, you really wanted clarity. But of course, thoughts of the worst possible outcome ever sneak their way into your mind.

Luke opens the passenger side door for you and you climb into his car before he gently closes the door and walks to the other side. As he gets in, he begins to start the car before he looks over to you and pauses, the quiet becoming almost painful. 

You didn't know what to say, and you didn't want to say the wrong thing. So, waiting for him to break the silence seemed to be your best bet.

“I know I should have thought of something to say…” He starts, and shuffles in his seat, slightly bending his right leg so he is facing you a little more.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stopped responding to you.” Luke continues, and you almost want to roll your eyes at his apology. It was so hard to be understanding when this felt like such a preventable situation on his part.

But you knew Luke. You knew when he was scared he got distant. You knew he was pulling back from you. You just didnt know why.

“Things have been so…weird…lately, and I just…I know I fucked up.” He confesses.

You didn't want to be reading between the lines anymore. You just wanted him to be honest with you about what he wants, and it frustrated you that he was being so vague.

“Luke, what do you want? Like, from me?” you ask innocently, but squint your eyes closed tightly as the words coming out of your mouth sound completely different from what you intended.

“Like, you told me we were friends. And obviously I was ok with that. But when you would visit me, we’d sleep together. And when you left it was like. I don't know…” you look down and pick at your fingers as you speak, looking up at him feeling like an almost impossible task.

“You told me you wanted to be friends.” Luke states, and gently grabs your hand. He holds it in his to stop you from destroying your fingers as you speak, which causes you to look up at him, thanking him silently, as he waits on your response.

“I said that because I knew how hard it would be for us to be so far away from each other.” you say strongly, feeling the sudden need to defend yourself.

“You know how important school is to me, and I know how important your career is to you. I don't want to distract you from what's important to you. I don't want to be the one that gets in the way of things, or be the reason why you're not as focused as you could be…as much as I want to be-” you begin to confess, but are quickly cut off.

“It's kinda too late for that…” Luke says with a chuckle as he tilts his head back against the headrest of his seat and looks out the front window, frustration still evidently seen on his face.

“What do you mean??” you ask, hoping he will elaborate a little more than he has been so far.

“You already distract me. I can't stop thinking about you. And it's obvious. In my game and everything too. Even Jack has noticed and he keeps asking me about you and I don't even know what to say. I can't shut him up. Cuz how am I supposed to tell him how I feel when I can't even tell you? Its actually really fuckin annoying.” he laughs as he explains, still looking ahead out the window instead of at you. 

Luke has always sought to use humour and jokes in difficult situations, especially when it comes to his own feelings. He's clearly frustrated at himself and it hurts you to see him having such a hard time expressing himself.

“So why have you been so distant lately?! I’ve been really worried about you.” you say, suddenly feeling more confident in confronting him as he opens up to you.

“Cuz im scared im gonna fuck things up even more than I already have…” he says honestly as he turns his head to look at you again.

“I knew I should've said something from the moment we slept together the first time. I feel like I fucked up by keeping my mouth shut. It's been ruining my life to not just be honest with you.” he adds with a growl deep in his voice, anger at himself seeping through his words.

As he continues, you can't help but feel entranced by him in his current state, and suddenly you are very aware of how late at night it is becoming. 

“It's my fault...” Luke says, and you desperately try to focus on his words and not his body. 

But you can't help but think about how good his hands would feel on your body and how badly you want him to kiss you right here and now. You didn't care that you were still in the parking lot of a sushi restaurant. You didn't care that things were still so confusing and that this probably wasn't exactly the most ideal time to be feeling this way. You just felt like you needed him so badly.

“I've been treating you like shit lately. Regardless of us sleeping together, that should not change how I treat you. I've been a shitty friend to you, and I'm really really sorry.” he continues, and you are brought out of your trance. 

His words hit you so hard. You both unknowingly made this relationship so complicated and weren't even aware of it. You knew Luke was not perfect, but for some reason you expected him to be able to read your mind, and vice versa. Even after being the one to say you should stay friends, you were silently upset that nothing was happening in the way you wanted.

“Luke, it's ok. Both of us have not been entirely honest with each other lately and it's made everything so… fucked up. We’re just… in a weird spot.” you say, hoping your words make any sense considering you zoned out for half of his apology.

“Can I just say that I want to be able to fix this?” Luke says as he places his hand on your thigh, his fingers mindlessly getting higher and higher as he rubs slowly back and forth. Trying his best to soothe you and unknowingly turning you on even more.

“It isn't just on you to fix.” you say as you place your hand softly over his, stopping his movement on your leg as to not let it overly distract you.

“Yes it is. I let you down. I fucked up by being so fucking…distant. I should've been more clear about what I want…that I want you..” Luke admits, giving into what he has wanted to say from the moment you got into the car together.

His eyes are fixed on yours and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. Hearing him so confidently confess how he is feeling after so long is such a relief. It makes you want to just tell him you love him right here and now.

“I know things are complicated…but, I really don't want to not have you in my life…” Luke adds as tears begin to well in his eyes, catching you both off guard.

“Oh Lukey.” you whisper as you hold his face in your hands, your heart melting at the sight of him. 

Luke places his hands on your wrists, pulling them away from his face as he finally leans into you. 

His lips hit yours with an intensity that you have never felt before from him. His hands move away from yours, and to the base of your neck, gently pulling you closer into him as he deepens the kiss. 

Your eyes are glued shut as you are entranced by his lips finally being connected with yours as his tongue dances around in your mouth. 

Needing to have your hands on him, you reach up to brush his face with your thumbs and then begin gently tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, causing him to lustfully groan deep into your mouth. Your mind is filled with excitement and intensity as the moment grows in mutual desire.

“I needed you baby.” You say rushedly, disconnecting with him for only a moment.

Luke smiles against your lips as you connect again, and he places his left hand on your hip, massaging his fingers into your side. You lift yourself lightly onto the centre-console, desperate to be as close to him as you can get, and he lowers his hand just below your ass to help support you.

Although being in the close quarters of Luke's car while having such a monumental conversation about your relationship was not quite ideal, you were so thankful for it at this moment.

“I needed you too.” Luke says after coming up for air, and you just stare at him with a dizzy smile, your head reeling with arousal.

He pecks your lips a few times before lowering his head to your collarbone, gently kissing your neck and leaving red marks where he most definitely has before.

Your giggles fill the car as he continues expeditiously exploring your body, wanting to savour every moment of your presence and relishing in the way he is pleasing you.

Luke looks up at you with a smile before his eyebrows furrow and he is distracted by something behind you, causing you to whip your head around to look out your window, immensely alarmed at his expression. 

Luke lightly lets go of you, allowing you to sit properly in your seat and as your eyes focus on the window, the sight of a kind-looking restaurant hostess tapping on the glass outside of your door almost sends you reeling into a panic. 

Luke quickly reassures you with a laugh, placing his hand on your arm and starting the car before beginning to roll your window down for them to speak.

“I am so sorry if I startled you, but our restaurant has closed, which means we can no longer allow you to park here, as free parking ends at midnight.” the hostess explains politely while pointing to the sign posted on the brick wall just in front of Luke's car. 

“Thanks Ma’am. We’re so s-sorry.” Luke pauses to hide his face, clearly hiding that he is about to break into laughter.

“We’ll leave right aw-” Luke laughs out, hardly able to finish his sentence before being sent into a fit of silent laughter.

“We’re so sorry. Have a good night!” you say more seriously, trying to make up for the completely unserious boy beside you.

“Goodnight guys!” the hostess says as she walks away, leaving you completely embarrassed and also scared half to death.

Luke continues dying of laughter and is hunched over the steering wheel as you punch his arm repeatedly to get his attention.

“That was awful! Why are you laughing so hard!” you say unimpressed, but still unable to hold back laughter of your own after seeing him look up at you with tears in his eyes.

“Fuck. I can't get over your face.” Luke says as he begins to come down a little, wiping the tears from his eyes. You just shake your head and begin to buckle your seatbelt, not taking any chances of having to be asked to leave once more.

“Fuck.” he says once more with a sigh, relaxing in his seat and looking over to you with a genuine smile before patting your thigh reassuringly.

You look to Luke expectantly and he stares back at you with a smirk before kissing your lips passionately, catching you off guard. 

Your hands are drawn to his face as he nudges your chin with his, causing you to lean into him even further before he pulls away from you abruptly.

“Can I take you home?” Luke asks with lust in eyes as he brushes his thumb across your cheek, admiring every single feature on your face. His words having a different meaning to both of you than they have previously tonight.

“For real this time?? Because you know we cant sit in this parking lot any longer…” you say jokingly as Luke rolls his eyes at you and begins to put his seatbelt on.

“Yes, for real this time.” He retorts. His right hand eagerly finding yours as he interlocks your fingers with his, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss before finally driving off.

-

-

[toomuchracket]

promises to keep (flatmate!matty x reader fluff)

matty made a promise to do something for you before you dated, and this is what happens when an opportunity to fulfil it arises once you're together - kinda sorta a sequel to this, but can be read standalone. day 4 of valentine's week. enjoy <3

“matthew? have you got a minute?”

shit. the full name. 

gritting his teeth in a grimace, matty puts down his guitar and follows your voice. “coming now, sweetheart.”

“much appreciated,” comes your tetchy reply. matty winces, wracking his brain in an attempt to figure out why you're not best pleased with him right now, but he comes up short.

he gets it as soon as he enters the kitchen, though; the french press in your hand - and the grumpiness on your pretty, sleepy face - reminds him of everything he needs to know. it also almost manages to stop matty from missing the fact you’re wearing his glassjaw hoodie, a pair of fluffy socks, and very little else. almost. “ah, fuck.”

“indeed,” you say, putting the cafetiere on the counter and frowning (quite adorably, to be honest) at your boyfriend. “actually, that was my exact phrasing when i came in here for a coffee, only to find that the grounds from the last cup hadn't been emptied.”

“m'sorry, baby,” matty moves to hug you.

you, however, have other ideas, and put your arm out to keep him back. “nope! no chance! absolutely not! you can't boyfriend your way out of this one, healy, this is a flatmate issue.”

matty sighs, but he can't exactly argue - the rules on emptying the coffee grounds have been finite since you moved in, the only way to ensure two caffeine-dependent people could cohabit in relative peace. “you're right. i really am sorry, darlin - let me clean it out now, and i'll make you a coffee, yeah?”

“thank you,” your face softens, into the cheeky smirk that never fails to make matty's heart feel funny. “would you make me a bit of toast, too, while you're at it?”

“it'll cost you a kiss, that one.”

“s'pose i could fork out for that,” you wrap your arms around matty's neck, hands sliding home into his hair to pull him down for a kiss. he dips you as you make out, like the two of you are lovers in an old hollywood romance film, and you giggle against his lips as he gently pulls you back to stand. “that was fun!”

“i was kinda scared i'd drop you, i won't lie.”

you laugh, ruffling matty's hair before taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “i would've dragged you with me if you had.”

“i'd expect nothing less,” he smiles, rinsing the coffee grounds from the press and holding it up to the light to check its cleanliness, before popping two slices of bread in the toaster. “what d'you want on your toast, by the way, babe?”

“hmm,” you tilt your head. “do we still have nutella?”

matty squints as he wracks his brain, then rummages around in one of the cupboards. “aha!” he emerges triumphant, almost-empty jar in hand. “enough for toast. but i'll need to get more before the weekend.”

“why? you don't even like it that much.”

“well, what else am i going to put on your valentine’s breakfast pancakes?”

you beam. “am i getting breakfast in bed?”

“course you are,” matty runs over to kiss your nose. “you're getting spoiled, sweetheart.”

“so are you. i was gonna keep it a surprise, but…” you pause dramatically. “i bought new lingerie.”

he drops the butter knife in shock. it hits the countertop with a clatter, and his head almost follows suit. “fuck,” he croaks out. “what colour?”

“dark red. your favourite,” you smile. “i look really sexy in it.”

“i bet you do, baby,” matty sighs happily, pouring coffee into your favourite mug. “can't wait to get into that hotel room and take it off you.”

“me either. and thank you for organising all that, my love. m’excited,” you smile, leaning up to kiss matty as he brings your breakfast over. “thank you for this, too. love you.”

“love you,” he kisses you again. “bring it to the living room? wanna cuddle.”

you nod, picking up your mug and plate and following matty through. he settles on the sofa first, arranging the blankets draped over it and taking your plate from you as you snuggle into his arms. with a kiss to your head, he flicks the tv on, and the two of you sit in contented silence for a little while - with the exception of you crunching your toast - watching animal park. 

matty nudges you when the camera zooms in on a pair of lions curled up together on a rock. “us.”

“really?” you snort, putting your plate on the coffee table. “you think we're lions?”

“yeah. you're the brains behind everything, and i just chill out and have really cool hair.”

you laugh, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing it. “you're an idiot, healy.”

“but i'm your idiot. and i'm right,” matty looks down at you, grinning. “and you've got a little bit of nutella on your lip. here, let me,” he leans down and kisses it away. “there.”

“thanks, lover,” you stretch, snuggling back into your boyfriend with a sigh. “the lions are boring me a bit now, though. what else is on?”

“hmm, let's see,” matty clicks through channels, watching each for a couple of seconds before continuing to search - only when a familiar shot of a girl curled up in a chair reading the bell jar appears does he stop. “oh! babe, look! 10 things!”

“aww, i love this film,” you curl up even further into him, playing with the neck of his t-shirt. “remember when we watched this together in my room?”

matty's voice is quiet when he answers, but you can hear him smile. “thought about it every day since we did, darlin.”

he grins bashfully when you turn to look at him, open-mouthed. you smile, too, so sweetly that it hurts his heart. “same. it was all i ever wanted, to be so intimate like that with you,” you reach up to stroke his face. “best feeling in the world, knowing i get to do it for real now.”

all matty can do is softly hold your face and kiss you, until he runs out of breath and has to pull away from your chocolate-flavoured lips; even then, though, he keeps his hands on your jaw, and murmurs against your lips. “my dream girl. m'so in love with you.”

“i love you so much,” you whisper. “d'you wanna keep watching this, then?”

“course. rite of passage, innit?” your boyfriend grins, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you. you turn to kiss him softly once more, then rest your head against his chest and look at the screen. 

the time passes a lot like it did the last time you and matty did this, but instead of mutual pining and an undercurrent of sadness knowing you weren't really together, it's just completely… lovely. you press kisses to each other's heads and hands and lips, and just bask uninterrupted in the love evident between the two of you in the room. aside from the kisses, you don't even move.

that is, until the scene matty knows is your favourite begins. he grins, shifting you slightly further up on his lap so he can look at you properly, and begins to sing into your ear along with heath ledger onscreen. “you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you…”

your cheeks lift into a smile, and matty can practically feel the heat radiating off them. but still, you keep your eyes on the tv, the only proper acknowledgement of matty's singing being the way you softly squeeze his thigh.

“... you'd be like heaven to touch, i wanna hold you so much,” he continues, resting his head against yours and smiling when you giggle, then taking your hand. “at long last love has arrived, and i thank god i'm alive,” he moves his hand up to gently turn your head, singing the last bit to your adorably flustered smiling face. “you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.”

you laugh joyously when he stops singing - the best sound matty thinks he's ever heard - and pull him into a kiss. “you're serenading me?!”

“you asked me to, first time we watched this,” matty smiles warmly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “and i promised you i would.”

“i did?” your brow furrows so cutely. “you did?”

“just as you fell asleep. therefore,” he grins, taking a deep breath before literally belting. “i love you, baby, and if it's quite alright i need you, baby, to warm the lonely nights. i love you, baby - trust in me when i say…”

you beam, wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying as you join in the song. “oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, i pray,” the two of you giggle as you sing, and matty's never been so in love in his life. “oh, pretty baby, now that i've found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you.”

as your voices fade out, matty leans forward and kisses you chastely; he beams and caresses your cheek when he pulls back. “thank you for letting me keep my promise. and for singing with me - that was lovely. should get you on the next album.”

“no, i think i'm content with just singing to you at home,” you smile, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you for doing that for me. always found it really romantic, that scene and that song. but you know how i am about pda, so what you just did was really perfect,” you kiss him again. “i honestly can't remember you making that promise, though.”

“i think you had already fallen asleep on me, darlin,” matty giggles. “but i wanted to keep it, anyway. and speaking of promises to keep,” his face goes a bit more serious, but still tender, as he picks up your left hand and kisses your ring finger - your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening and welling up. “gonna marry you someday. i mean it.”

you nod, a teary smile on your beautiful face, and pull him into a hug. “i can't wait.”

[kaminokatie]

First Time || The Bad Batch

Synopsis - Your first time with the members of the Bad Batch.

Warnings - NSFW.

Word Count - 11k

[Caffeinate Me]

HUNTER could smell when you were aroused and it drove him crazy. Whenever you were aroused he would brood more so than usual and nobody, not even Tech, could figure out why. 

One night, when you thought all the members of the Batch were sleeping, you lay in your bunk tossing and turning. It was no use in you trying to sleep, you were too worked up. Your core felt as if it was on fire, so, you did the only thing you thought was logical - you slowly and quietly got up out of your bunk and made your way to the cockpit. There, you thought, you’d be able to relieve some of your tensions. 

You crept into the cockpit and sat down in the pilot seat. As soon as you sat down your hand made its way to your pants and underwear, slipping down the thin fabric until your padded fingers reached your swollen and sensitive clit. You stayed still for a moment and listened, and then and only then, did you begin your careful and calculated circles. You stayed like that for a moment until you trailed two fingers down to your already sopping hole, inserting them almost immediately. You stretched yourself out slowly and a soft sigh escaped your lips as your movements inside you quickened. You were so close to cumming when - 

“Y/N, are you okay?” A voice came from the entrance of the cockpit. 

In a panic you retracted your hands from your underwear and wiped the slick onto your trousers before turning to face the intruder. You were beyond frustrated at this point and your face was glowing red from both that and the embarrassment of almost being caught in the act. “Hunter!” You exclaimed when you finally came face-to-face with him. His eyes were sleepy but held something else that you couldn’t quite place. “W-What are you doing up?” You asked, a stutter in your voice. 

“Heard you get up,” he replied slowly as he began to stalk his way over to you in the pilot's chair. “What were you doing?” 

“I was just erm… uh…” you wracked your brain trying to think of a good excuse as to why you were alone in the cockpit while everybody else was asleep, but before you could come up with an excuse Hunter cut you off. 

“Masturbating?” He finished for you. A sly smile made its way to his lips as he watched your face contort into an expression of pure panic. You were about to deny his correct accusation when Hunter placed a finger on your lips, keeping you silent. “Don’t even try to deny it. I could hear you.” 

Your face continued to flush red from embarrassment, you forgot about Hunter’s superb senses. Of course he could hear you. “I’m sorry Sargeant,” you whispered, looking down at your feet as if you were about to be reprimanded. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered huskily. “We all have needs sometimes.”

“W-We do?” You asked, his finger dropping down to your chin. You attempted to look down again out of shame, but Hunter’s hand on your chin forced you to keep looking at him. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, you were afraid it was going to explode at any moment. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy Y/N,” Hunter continued to whisper. 

Your eyes widened as you looked at him. “I-I have?” You asked, that stutter is still there as a result of your sudden shyness.

“Yes,” he replied quickly. Again, Hunter didn’t give you a second to respond before he continued talking. “I can smell you. It’s… Intoxicating and distracting at the same time.” 

“Of course you can,” you groaned while rolling your eyes. Of course Hunter could smell your arousal, why didn’t you think of that beforehand?

“Do you need any help, pretty girl?” Hunter asked before he had even registered what he said. 

“Huh?” You replied, raising an eyebrow. You wanted to make sure you had heard him correctly.

“I said, do you need any help, pretty girl?” Hunter repeated, shooting you a grin. 

“A-Any help?” You asked. You shied away from the clone standing in front of you as his hand made its way to your chin, forcing you to look up at him. 

“Yes. I can’t focus on our missions until you’ve calmed down,” Hunter replied, licking his lips as his thumb traced your jaw slowly.

“And how do you suppose you ‘help me’?” You asked, your eyebrow still raised. 

“How about I show you instead of tell you?” Hunter mumbled before pressing his lips to yours softly. 

Your eyes widened as his lips met yours but you were quick to melt into the kiss. His tongue absent-mindedly traced your bottom lip almost as if asking for permission to enter your mouth. Without thinking, you moaned against the kiss. The dampness between your legs was growing by the second and Hunter could smell it, his mind becoming hazy with a mixture of love and lust. As Hunter’s tongue poked its way into your mouth, one of his hands traced down your body to the waistband of your pyjama bottoms while the other traced the outline of your breasts through your shirt, groping at them greedily. You let out another moan as the defective clone finally dipped his hand down your pants and underwear, a singular thick finger coating itself with your slick before finding your clit. When Hunter’s finger pressed itself against your clit, you gasped, letting him know that that was the right spot. Smirking, Hunter began to circle your clit slowly, earning a string of silent profanities to leave your lips. 

After a few moments, Hunter dipped his finger further down to your soaking hole and pushed himself inside of you slowly, stretching you much more than you could stretch yourself. As his finger slowly worked you inside, Hunter began to move his kisses from your lips to your jawline and down to your neck. He wasted no time before sucking on the soft, sensitive flesh that covered your neck earning another moan from you. Your eyes fluttered closed and your hands made their way to Hunter’s shoulders, gripping them tightly as if to ground yourself as Hunter continued his assault. Inserting a second finger into your cunt, Hunter chuckled. “You’re gripping my fingers so tightly pretty girl,” he cooed against your neck. Finally, Hunter dipped his hand under your shirt and began playing with your perky nipples. The sensations, the feelings, it was all becoming too much as Hunter’s pace sped up inside of you.   

“G-Gonna cum,” you groaned, biting your bottom lip between your teeth. Hunter chuckled against your neck and withdrew his fingers from your cunt before giving your clit the extra special attention it needed to push you over the edge. You gripped Hunter’s shoulders tighter as your orgasm washes over you and it’s intense. All the stress, all the pent up frustrations just immediately disappeared. Hunter continued to circle your clit until you were shaking from too much stimulation underneath him, and when your orgasm had finally finished and your vision had returned to normal, you looked up at your Sargeant with pale pink blush on your cheeks. 

“Better?” Hunter asked against your neck. You nodded breathlessly, unsure of what to say. You knew one orgasm wouldn’t be able to satiate you given how pent up you were, but you didn’t want to put Hunter in an uncomfortable position. Just as you were about to thank Hunter for the help and pull his hand out of your underwear, the clone Sergeant hummed against your neck. He continued to pepper your neck with kisses until he reached your lips once more, kissing you softly, but passionately. “I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered huskily. Your eyes widened upon hearing Hunter’s words, and your core clenched around his fingers. Surely he didn’t mean… 

With a slight pop, Hunter retracted his fingers from your pussy and slowly placed them in his mouth. With a groan of excitement, Hunter greedily lapped up your spend from his fingers, swirling his tongue around every inch of his two digits just to taste you. The image was so erotic you couldn’t help but whimper at the sight. “Hunter!” You cried out quietly. “That’s embarrassing, stop it!”

“Mesh’la,” Hunter groaned against his fingers. “You taste better than any meal I’ve ever had.” 

You took a step back and finally admired Hunter’s current position. He was wearing nothing but his blacks, and as your eyes casted downwards you could see the painfully obvious hardness of his length pressing against the confines. He wanted you as much as you wanted him. “Hunter…” You whispered, regaining the man’s attention. “Do you want me?” You asked, couldn’t help but ask. 

“Of course I want you Mesh’la,” Hunter’s voice came. With your ears still ringing from your orgasm, Hunter said something you had never expected to hear come from his lips. “I want to make love to you.” 

Everything, from that moment, went in slow motion. You took a step forward, closing the gap you had made to admire him and quickly put your lips on his. The kiss turned into a makeout session rather quickly, and soon you were tearing the clothes off of eachother and leaving them discarded around the cockpit. With heavy breaths, you trailed your hands down Hunter’s muscular chest, clearly not getting enough of feeling him against your body. The moment felt like you were in heaven and soon, you were both completely naked and gasping for air as you pulled away from the kiss. 

“I want that too,” you whispered breathlessly. 

Without saying anything, Hunter sat down in the pilot's seat now completely naked. He beckoned you to sit on his lap, and with mild hesitation you did. You could feel his thick cock underneath you twitch as your naked body came into contact with his own. This was all surreal, a dream perhaps? It wasn’t the first time you had had a raunchy dream about the brooding Sargeant. But no, this was no dream. You were reminded of that as Hunter positioned himself between your entrance, thick head spreading your folds wide open as he searched for your tiny hole. Without warning, Hunter pushed himself slowly into your heat earning a moan to rip from your throat. 

“Shh pretty girl,” Hunter cooed in your ear. “We need to be quiet, make sure we don’t wake up my brothers.” 

You nodded, tears pricked at your eyes as Hunter continued to push himself into you slowly. You hadn’t been stretched like this in a long time and you couldn’t deny it was a feeling you had missed - your fingers weren’t as good as a penis when it came to pleasuring yourself. When Hunter was fully sheathed inside you, he remained still, giving you time to adjust to the sensation. He could already feel your walls clenching around his cock and he knew that he wasn’t going to last long. Still, he needed to see you through at least one more orgasm before he gave himself permission to spill deep inside of you. After a few more seconds of waiting, you finally decided to move your hips, bouncing yourself on Hunter’s cock. Almost immediately the clone Sergeant let out a soft moan, hands grasping at your hips to help aid you with your slow bounces. As soon as Hunter’s hands touched your hips, your movements quickened. Your eyes were screwed tightly shut as you bounced on his cock, desperate for another release that was closer than you realised. One of Hunter’s hands fell from your hips and nestled between your legs, toying at your clit as you continued your movements above him. You twitched and moaned as Hunter’s fingers clumsily worked at your sensitive, swollen nub.

“Stars, Sarge,” you whimpered quietly. Your legs felt like they were going to buckle underneath you, but you were so close to cumming again. You could feel it building in your core. 

“Feel good, Mesh’la?” He asked huskily against your ear. You nodded and threw your head back, resting it on Hunter’s shoulder as he sucked at the skin of your earlobe. 

“Feels so good,” you replied hoarsely. 

Your legs began to weaken as you continued to ride Hunter but he had it covered… When your movements faltered his hips snapped into action thrusting upwards and into yours. It was a mixture of everything that tipped you over the edge; Hunter’s groaning in your ear, his fingers dancing on your clit and the way his cock pushed into you so deliciously. You were cumming once more. You didn’t even get the chance to vocalise your release before it happened, your cunt clamping down around Hunter’s cock like a vice. You stopped your movements as your orgasm washed over you, allowing the clone to take control of the situation. He moved his hand away from your clit as you began to convulse above him and grasped your hips with both hands tightly before drilling up into you violently, chasing his own release. After a few more thrusts, he was finally spent, spilling himself deep inside of you with nothing but mumbles of your name against your neck. 

The two of you were panting messes sitting in the pilots chair. Your mind was still hazy after your release and you couldn’t even believe the situation you were in, that was, until Hunter began to kiss your neck softly reminding you that he was there. “Feel better?” He asked breathlessly. You nodded, unable to form words as you clambered off Hunter and began to collect your clothes off the floor. “You smell better,” he chuckled. “You smell sweet.”

“That will be the orgasm,” you chuckled as you dressed yourself. Once you had finished dressing yourself you turned to look at Hunter who was still sitting naked in the pilot's seat, his cock softening as he watched you intensely. “Hunter, are you okay?” You asked, throwing him his blacks. He caught them and began to dress himself while nodding. The clone Sergeant was beyond okay. He had been wanting to have sex with you since he first smelled your arousal but was never able to work up the courage to make the first move, that was up until tonight. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to you, forcing you to snap your gaze up to meet his eyes. 

“You think so?” You asked, standing against the cockpit door awkwardly. You weren’t sure what to do with your exhausted body. 

“I know so,” he replied. His blacks were now fully on and he made his way over to you, cupping your face in his hands gently. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in the galaxy.”

You blushed furiously as you looked into his eyes and before you knew it, Hunter was kissing you softly. His lips glided across yours easily as you melted into the kiss. This was much more than a one night thing, you realised that as Hunter deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Hunter,” you mumbled against his lips. 

“Yes?” He replied, pulling away. 

“I love you,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. 

“I love you too,” he smiled softly, kissing you once more. Your eyes fluttered closed as you once again melted into the kiss, savouring the moment. “You should get some sleep. I have no doubt you’ll sleep tonight.” 

“Will you join me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Hunter chuckled, opening the cockpit door and leading you to your bunk. The two of you cuddled, falling asleep almost instantaneously in eachothers arms. You knew tomorrow would be a pain, having to explain to the other members of the Batch as to why Hunter was sleeping in your bunk, but you were sure Tech would be able to help the others deduce the situation.

ECHO had long been believed to be dead. After the Citadel, when Echo didn’t return home to you, you were broken. You found comfort and solace in the arms of none other than Captain Rex. You grieved your loss together and became closer than you ever thought you would. So close, in fact, you were now kissing said Captain before he left for a mission with General Skywalker and Clone Force 99. 

“Come home to me,” you whispered against his lips. 

“I’ll always come home to you,” Rex whispered back, ignoring the whistles from his brothers around the two of you. You couldn’t help but blush as you pulled away, patting the Captain on the shoulder before he turned on his heels to leave. 

Finally, you were alone again and a sinking feeling entered your stomach… A feeling you hadn’t felt since you had  learned of Echo’s demise. They were gone for a while and you hadn’t heard from anybody. Not that this was unusual, but it still didn’t help your anxiety. When you got a commlink signalling the return of your lover, you rushed out to meet him, not even bothering to dress up. You rushed as fast as you could and arrived just as their ship was entering the atmosphere. You stood at the landing platform chewing nervously at your nails - stars, you hoped Rex was okay. 

As they landed, you felt a wave of relief wash over you which only intensified as the doors swung open revealing Rex. A sad smile graced his lips when he saw you, but you didn’t notice. You were too busy running into his arms, pressing your lips to his passionately to tell him without words that you had missed his presence. Apprehensively he kissed back, pulling you close to him as if this was your last kiss. When you pulled away, you raised an eyebrow at him, confused as to his closed demeanour. Without answering you, he stepped to the side revealing the rest of the squad that had gained an extra member. 

Your eyes widened when you saw him. Tears immediately made their way to your eyes. “Echo?” You asked, voice croaky. The pale clone just nodded, walking towards you quickly. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against his chest. You looked into the brown eyes you loved so much and without questioning anything, kissed Echo softly. Your hands ran down his arm, feeling every inch of him to make sure that he was actually here and that this wasn’t some kind of sick, twisted joke. “Y-You’re alive,” you whispered breathlessly against his lips. Your hand intertwined with his and you brought it up to your lips, kissing his fingers softly as he looked down on you. 

“I’m alive,” Echo replied. His voice was hoarse. 

“W-What? How?” You asked, but you shook your head as soon as the words left your lips. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home now. You’re safe.” Your hand fell to his newly added scomp as you continued kissing his fingers and you felt your heart bleed. What on earth had they done to him? 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Echo finally spoke, his voice cracking slightly. He looked at Rex before looking back at you. “I see you and the Captain have gotten close since I-”

“Don’t,” you whispered, cutting Echo off. You immediately felt the guilt settle in your stomach. “I thought you were dead…” 

“It’s okay,” Echo replied, smiling down at you softly. “I understand.”

“You do?” You asked while gazing into his eyes. Echo just nodded in response, taking your hand in his own and bringing it up to his lips. He kissed your fingers gingerly as you continued to speak. “If I’d have known you were alive, Echo, I never would have been with Rex.”

“I know,” Echo cooed softly. 

The members of The Bad Batch, General Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex watched on as the two of you held this touching reunion. It wasn’t until Anakin placed a hand on your shoulder did you realise where you were, snapping back into reality. You sheepishly stepped away from Echo and moved to the side, allowing Rex to talk to his brother in private. You were out of earshot, and couldn’t hear what they were saying but you could tell Echo was deep in thought. You continued staring at the two clones in an attempt to read their lips, but it was no good… You couldn’t figure out what they were saying to each other. They hugged and when they pulled away, Rex turned around and began to walk towards you quickly. You watched as Echo stepped backwards in thought before he turned around and made his way to The Bad Batch’s side. Your eyes widened. He was going to join them? 

Rex stood next to you as he watched The Bad Batch load onto their ship. “You should go with him,” Rex whispered to you. 

“Huh?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at the 501st Captain. 

“You should leave me and go with him,” Rex whispered, gulping slightly. It pained him to say, but he knew you would be happier with Echo. It was where you belonged after all. You were with Echo to begin with, and now knowing he was alive there was no way you could be happy with Rex. 

“Can I?” You asked quietly, looking at the floor. 

Rex turned to face you, grabbing your hands in his with a saddened look on his face. “You belong with him. But, I hope to see you again one day.” You nodded slowly as Rex pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Now go before I change my mind.” 

You nodded once more and made your way up to the ramp of the ship. “Echo!” You called out, stopping the clone in his tracks. He turned around, a huge grin on his face when he saw you.

“You’re coming with us?” He asked hopefully. You nodded and Echo grabbed your hand, leading you into the cockpit to officially meet the other members of The Bad Batch. You sat down awkwardly next to Echo as the members debriefed him on their upcoming missions. You knew this way of life was going to take some getting used to, but as long as you were with Echo that’s all that mattered to you. You fell asleep on Echo’s shoulder as the boys continued talking and you didn’t wake up for hours. When you eventually did wake, it was just you and Echo in the cockpit. “You’re awake,” came Echo’s voice. He sounded tired. 

You looked up at him and rubbed your eyes, smiling sleepily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve missed you being in my arms,” Echo replied as he pressed his lips against your temple. A blush made its way to your cheeks. 

“I’ve missed you so much Echo,” you whispered as you kissed his shoulder softly. He was still shirtless, chest exposed to the cool air of the ship that had goosebumps travelling up his arm. 

“I’ve missed you so much too,” Echo whispered softly and pulled you onto his lap. His hand stayed still on your thigh as his lips met your cheek, kissing you softly. “Did you and Rex ever…?” He trailed off and you knew what he meant. 

“Yeah… We did,” you answered sheepishly. “Like I said, if I knew you were alive I never would have…”    

Echo sighed softly and his lips made their way from your cheek to your lips, capturing them in a passionate, heat-filled kiss. Within a second, Echo had swirled you around so you were now straddling him and your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him closer to you in order to deepen the kiss. Almost instinctively, Echo’s scomp and hand flew to your hips in order to pull your body flush against his own. You could feel him breathing deeply against you as you continued to kiss. When you pulled away, Echo looked into your eyes lovingly and stroked your hip with his thumb. 

“Tell me I’m better than him,” Echo whispered against your lips. You were about to question him, but Echo just said “please.”

You nodded and smiled gently at him. “You’re better than him, Echo. You’re better than anybody.” 

Those were all the words that Echo needed before he was kissing you once again, this time more roughly. His lips glided across your own easily and his hand came up to cup one of your breasts which he kneaded gently all as the kiss deepened. A low groan emitted from Echo’s throat as his lips continued to mash against your own desperately and you couldn’t help but grind your hips against him lightly. “Oh stars…” Echo groaned against your lips as you moved your hips slightly against him. You could feel his cock hardening beneath you in his trousers as your hips rutted against him. “Y/N…”

“Yes Echo?” You asked, pulling away from his lips. 

“Please… Take me,” he whispered breathlessly. 

“I feel like I should be the one saying that to you,” you joked, a grin plastering your lips. Echo however just shrugged and pulled you flush against him. 

“Do you feel how hard you get me?” He murmured against your lips, thrusting his hips up to meet your own. You nodded in response, not trusting your shy demeanour enough to speak. Echo continued to fondle your breast with his only hand and used his new scomp to keep you right where he wanted you, on his lap. His brown eyes twinkled with need as you continued to grind against him. “Do you - oh - still find me attractive?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out without a second thought. You had spent every waking moment since the Citadel missing Echo, so for him to be alive and well and now a trembling mess in your arms. Well, it was a bittersweet feeling. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, uncertainty laced his voice as he held his scomp up to your face. “I’m not the man I used to be.”   

“Echo,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his once more. “Just because you feel like you’re not the man you used to be, doesn’t mean I love you any less.” 

Echo groaned against your lips at your words. To be honest, they were the words he needed to hear. He dropped his hand from your breast and fiddled with the waistline of your trousers. “May I?” He asked. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” you whispered as a blush crept up on your cheeks. 

Echo nodded slowly and licked his lips before he managed to find the courage to slip his hands down your trousers and underwear. After all this time his fingers were finally, finally, touching you. You wriggled slightly in his lap to get into a better position so Echo’s fingers would be able to reach inside you, should he want too. Almost immediately after you moved, Echo wasted no time in slipping a cold, slender finger inside of you. You gasped, and Echo used his scomp in an attempt to keep you quiet, pressing the cool metal to your lips. When he was certain nobody was going to enter the cockpit to see what the noise was, Echo began to slowly move his finger in and out of you. You bit your bottom lip in a desperate attempt to hide the moans that were threatening to spill past your lips and Echo realised this quickly, a slight chuckle came from the clone that sounded like music to your ears. As Echo continued to pump his finger in and out of you, his lips traced your neck and began sucking on the soft flesh. It was almost as if he wanted you to moan. But when he inserted a second finger into your entrance, it made a bit more sense to you. You gasped quietly as Echo’s fingers drilled into you, his beautiful brown eyes were half-lidded with lust when he looked at you. The sight of him below you made you want to cum instantly. But you weren't there yet, not yet. 

“Kriff Y/N,” Echo whimpered against your neck. “Your pussy is sucking my fingers in.”

You blushed furiously. “D-Don’t say that!” You cried out silently. With two of his fingers still inside of you, Echo’s thumb found your swollen nub and he began to clumsily circle it all while keeping his fingers pace inside of you. The extra attention on your clit was exactly what you needed to be pushed to the brink of your orgasm and soon you were cumming over Echo’s fingers. You bit down on your bottom lip once more to stop the moans of pleasure from reaching the surface, afraid to wake up any of the other members of your new squad. It wouldn’t be a good first impression, would it? 

Echo retracted his fingers from your underwear and smirked at your shaking legs. He sat back and watched as your orgasm washed over you and it was in that moment that Echo thought you could never look more beautiful. “Let me return the favour,” you said quietly, sinking down to your knees on the floor of the ship. You looked up at Echo through your lashes who’s blush was obvious against his pale skin. 

He shook his head. “No. No. No.”

“Why not?” You frowned, pouting slightly. You felt silly now, but Echo simply shoved the two fingers he had used to finger you into your mouth to keep you quiet. Your tongue swirled around his digits and you hummed in pleasant surprise at the sweet taste of yourself. 

“Good girl…” Echo whispered. He bit down on his own lip as he watched you suck your juices off his fingers. He watched the way you hollowed your cheeks, and felt the way you swirled your tongue around his fingers and he was desperate to feel it around his cock. But he couldn’t, not tonight. Not for his first time. Echo grasped your shoulders and pulled you up from your position on the floor, forcing you to stand up. You had to stand on your tiptoes to press a delicate kiss to Echo’s nose but the clone in question had turned you around, pushing your back against the wall of the ship. 

“Echo-”

“I want you Y/N,” Echo shook his head. “I want to make love to you, is what I mean.”

“You still want me after…” You trailed off, not wanting to bring Rex up for fear of all the emotions Echo may be feeling over the whole situation.   

“I’d still want you if you were a kriffing Separatist,” Echo joked, his eyes lighting up with mischief. 

“Is that so?” You teased back, wiggling your eyebrows at him. You had always teased him, before the Citadel incident. There was no way that you were going to stop teasing him now that he was back in your life. With your back against the wall of the ship, Echo finally had you cornered, his hand and scomp trapping you in your current position. He bent his head down to capture your lips in a frantic kiss, one that was filled with so much emotion. Using his only hand, he tugged down your pants and underwear clumsily until they fell in a pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them and looked towards the cockpit door, worried that someone would enter when you were half naked. 

“Don’t worry,” Echo whispered, sensing your uneasiness. “The others have gone to sleep. It’s just us two here, in this moment.” You nodded in an attempt to regain some confidence. You trusted Echo with your life, so with one last look at the door you aimed to forget it even existed as Echo’s eyes glazed over your body. With his singular hand Echo was quick to unbuckle his trousers and tug his cock out of the tight restraints, leaving you dumbfounded. You knew all clones were the same, so he should have been the same as Rex, but if anything he seemed bigger. Your mouth began to water at the sight and Echo just looked down at his erect member sheepishly before gazing into your eyes. “Is it… Is it to your liking?” 

Unable to speak, you just nodded and without another word Echo had you turned so you were facing the wall. With his scomp pressed against the ship wall, his free hand positioned himself against your folds before he pushed inside of you slowly. You let out a soft gasp as his cock began to stretch you out and you bit your lip to stop any other noises from escaping your lips. When Echo was fully sheathed inside of you, he remained still for several reasons: one, to let you adjust to his length, but secondly, to make sure he didn’t cum straight away. 

“Y-You can move,” you whispered breathlessly, turning your head to the side in an attempt to face Echo. His brows were furrowed and he was biting his bottom lip. His scomp and hand rested on your hips to keep you steady as he began to move inside of you slowly. Thrust after thrust, Echo’s movements began to speed up. It was as if you two were the only ones in the galaxy at this moment, and he would treasure it forever. It was almost as if you were made for him, the way he slotted into you so easily, there was no other explanation in his mind other than you were made for him. A loud grumble erupted in Echo’s throat as he continued his movements, his hand grasping onto your hip tightly. 

“Wanted this for so long,” he whispered against your neck as he pressed soft kisses against your skin. “Even before the Citadel, Gods, Y/N.” 

“Echo,” you whimpered against the wall. His cock was sliding in and out of your heat so easily due to your wetness and prior orgasm and the filthiest sounds filled the cockpit. Your face was red from embarrassment but you shook your head lightly and ignored it, revelling in the pleasure Echo was bringing you. “Harder,” you managed to choke out. 

Echo gave a court nod and his movements became harsher almost immediately. His grip on your hip tightened as he angled your hips just right, forcing him to hit that deep spot inside of you just right. “Stars, you’re squeezing me so tightly!” Echo whispered, his voice full of lust. His eyes were squeezed shut as he focused on not cumming until you did, and you weren’t far behind. You dropped a hand from the ship's wall and brought it between your legs, giving your clit the attention it craved and almost instantly, your orgasm washed over you. “Oh, kriff!” Echo called out, rather loudly as your cunt sucked him in. You moved your hips involuntarily as you rode out your orgasm, moaning Echo’s name over and over again. “Did you just cum?” He asked. 

“Y-Yes,” you whispered hoarsely, voice sore from holding back the moans you so desperately wanted to let out.   

“Can I cum?” Echo asked awkwardly. 

“Please!” You cried out. “Please Echo. Cum for me.”

With a few more jagged thrusts, Echo released himself inside of you with a guttural moan into your neck. His hips continued to move as he continued cumming, and when he finally stopped he pulled out of you with a shiver. “I never knew sex would feel so good,” Echo mumbled, tucking himself back into his pants. 

“That was incredible, Echo,” you smiled at him, turning around and pressing a kiss to his temple. “We should do that again.”

Echo stared at you in disbelief. “You want to do that again… With me?” He asked, pointing to himself with his scomp. You just chuckled and nodded a simple ‘yes’. Grabbing your pants and underwear, you covered your modesty once more and sat on the pilot's seat, admiring the space outside of the windows. “I love you…” Echo whispered, pressing a kiss on top of your head. 

“I love you too Echo,” you smiled as you looked up at him. You turned your attention back to the space in front of you and you felt your heart flutter. You finally felt complete once more now that Echo was back and you were never going to let go of that feeling.

TECH was busy fixing the ship, as usual. You lay in your bunk, beyond frustrated as your boyfriend worked well into the night. As usual you were waiting for him to join you, but as usual, he was busy. You sighed dramatically and stood up, tiptoeing to the cockpit with the full intention of dragging him to bed. As you reached the cockpit you stopped dead in your tracks: Tech was shirtless underneath the Marauder’s controls, his eyebrows scrunched together as he worked hard. You felt your mouth run dry and a lump form in your throat. “Oh fuck,” you whispered to yourself. 

But Tech had heard you. “Y/N?” He asked quizzically. “What are you doing awake?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and attempted to regain your composure as you answered. “Couldn’t sleep without you.” You wrapped your arms across your chest in annoyance. 

“Don’t wait up for me sweetheart,” he mumbled, his gaze momentarily lingering on you before he redirected his attention back to the controls he was working on. 

“You know I can’t sleep without you Tech,” you whined. 

“You’re going to have to learn, my love,” Tech responded, rolling his eyes playfully. 

“No I don’t,” you mumbled, sticking your tongue out. You walked further into the cockpit, closing the door quietly behind you. Tech continued his work as you made your way over to him, your arms still across your chest. You hovered by his side, watching as his fingers skillfully moved across the wires. You sucked in a breath and felt a sudden overwhelming heat fill your body. The two of you had been together for a few months now, but had yet to engage in any type of sexual activity. You wondered if it was something that Tech ever thought about and if so, why he hadn’t made a move yet. You bit the inside of your cheek as the thoughts continued to roll into your mind. Before you even realised it, you were standing over Tech and slowly sinking down to sit on his midriff. 

“What are you doing?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Just taking a seat,” you shrugged, shuffling enough just to get yourself comfortable. 

You felt yourself fall into a trance as your hands trailed Tech’s bare, toned chest. He was absolutely perfect. He shivered as you touched him, trying his hardest not to get distracted from the work at hand, however, he failed. He felt his cock harden almost immediately as the soft pads of your fingers worked their way around his nipples. This didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you grinned at his body’s response to your touch. You rolled your hips against his own, clothed cunt pressing against his hardened length forcing a soft moan to erupt from his throat. You continued your movements against him, teasingly. You could feel the wetness between your legs become more and more prominent. 

“What are you doing?” Tech sighed, his fingers halting their movements on the wires in front of him. 

“Trying to get your attention,” you grinned. 

Tech couldn’t help but buck his hips up against yours as you continued to grind against him. “You have my attention,” he replied, biting his bottom lip as he looked at you. You looked absolutely beautiful to him. Nobody could compare to you. 

“I want this,” you whispered, hands still trailing his chest. “I want you.” 

Tech’s eyes widened in surprise at your boldness. “I’m here,” he whispered. His hands fell from the wires and were placed on your hips, gripping them tightly as if you’d leave if he were to let go. 

You rolled your hips once more. This was the finishing move for Tech. Within seconds, you were flipped over so you were the one laying on the floor and he was the one hovering over you. “It’s extremely likely the others will wake up,” Tech whispered. His eyes still searching yours. 

“I’ll be quiet,” you whispered back. “I promise.” 

“I cannot say the same,” Tech said, a slight chuckle leaving his lips. He thrusted his hips against yours, clothed cock pressing against your clothed cunt once more. You were desperate for him at this moment in time. You didn’t think your first time with Tech would go like this, but it was perfect nevertheless. Your hands shakily reached out to his blacks pulling them down, his cock springing free from its restraints. He was bigger than you expected, a slight curve to his cock that had your mouth drooling. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You didn’t reply with words, instead you just nodded your head quickly, still staring at his cock. You shuffled your own trousers and underwear down speedily, you knew time was of the essence in this situation. Tech watched with wide eyes through his goggles as you became exposed to him. His cock twitched at the sight of your spread out for him, your pussy drooling for him and him alone. You grasped the base of his cock with one hand and slowly began to jerk him off. Tech immediately jumped, the feeling of pleasure welling up in his balls from the second your soft hands touched him. 

“You’re so big Tech,” you whispered in awe. 

He blushed lightly and looked away, eyes rolling into his head as your hand seamlessly glided across his length. “I won’t last if you keep going,” he whispered shyly. You grinned at him in response and slowly retracted your hand. You slipped two fingers inside your core easily, stretching yourself out ready to take his cock. Tech was mesmerised by the way your fingers disappeared into your body. Biting his lip, he held back a moan at the sight of you. 

“Are you ready to fuck me?” You asked seductively whilst licking your lips. Tech nodded and positioned himself on top of you as you pulled your fingers out of yourself with a slight pop. He slicked his cock up your folds, coating them with your wetness before slowly sliding in. He gave you a few seconds to adjust before pushing the remainder of his length inside of you. A soft whimper fell from your lips and you closed your eyes tightly. Tech let out a shaky breath as he tried his hardest to refrain from moving, allowing you more time to adjust to his cock. The feeling was better than anything he had ever imagined and experienced. The way your walls clenched around him already had Tech seeing stars. “Okay, you can move,” you whimpered. 

Tech nodded in response before pulling his cock out of you and thrusting into you completely once more. He let out a moan as he hit that spot deep inside of you. His hips stuttered clumsily with each movement he made. You continued to bite your bottom lip in an attempt to muffle any moans that were threatening to spill from your lips but Tech was a whimpering mess. He thrusted against you desperately, hands staying by your head to keep himself steady above you. “Oh kriff,” Tech moaned loudly. 

“You need to - ah - be quiet baby,” you whimpered, moving your hands to cover his lips. Tech’s eyes were wide as he nodded, your hands muffling his whimpers and moans. 

“Can’t help it,” he said quietly. “It feels too good.” Suddenly, Tech’s thrusts became more violent and quick. His cockhead perfectly reaching your insides had you squirming beneath him. You wanted to cry out his name in pleasure, but knew it was highly possible you would wake someone up. Instead, tears rolled down your cheeks as your orgasm approached, your hands falling from Tech’s mouth and wrapped around his neck. Tech bent down to press soft kisses to your cheeks. “I know. I know,” he whispered into your ear. Tech rutted into you brutally, you could feel him pulsing deep inside of you. Your walls clenched around his cock as your orgasm washed over you, your legs shaking violently as you gushed all over Tech’s cock. He was mesmerised as he watched you cum, soaking his cock and midriff in your juices. That was it. Tech couldn’t hold back any more. He pulled out of you completely once more before slamming himself back in, pace never faltering. “My turn to cum, princess. Where do you want it?” He asked. 

“Inside,” you gasped. “Please.” 

Tech nodded, all thoughts of reason escaping his mind. Consequences be damned, he was going to finish inside of you. With a few more stuttered strokes, thick ropes of creamy white shot from the head of his cock and deep inside of you. Tech let out a breathy moan as his head dropped into the crook of your neck, hips moving a few more times before coming to a halt inside of you. “Kriff, that was amazing,” Tech mumbled. 

“It was,” you smiled, stroking his hair softly. “Are you coming to bed now?” You asked cheekily. 

“I suppose after that, I could do with some sleep,” Tech moaned, pulling his cock out of you. He sat up and pulled his blacks back up, covering himself completely as he watched you lay on the cool floor of the Marauders cockpit. You were grinning and watching him dress. “Get your trousers back on,” Tech mumbled, throwing your pants and underwear in your direction. You nodded and got yourself dressed. 

“Let’s go to bed,” you said sleepily, wrapping your arm around Tech’s waist and pulling him to your bunk. You both collapsed on your bed, snuggled into each other. It wasn’t long before you were both asleep, snoring softly in the comfort of each other's arms. 

WRECKER was the sweetest boyfriend you had ever had. He would share his food with you, open doors for you, help you down the steps of the Marauder and most importantly carry you around if you wanted. He was a gentle giant. You were currently sitting on his lap, fingers playing with his armour as he spoke with the other members of the Batch. Eventually, Wrecker diverted his attention to you, a wide smile playing on his face as he looked down at you. “What are you doing?” He asked. 

“Just admiring your armour,” you replied with an equally wide smile. “It suits you.” 

“Thanks,” he grinned. 

“Get a room,” Hunter mumbled, rolling his eyes playfully. 

“Technically, they’re in a room,” Tech piped up. 

“You know what I mean Tech,” Hunter chuckled. 

“Oh hush Hunter,” you groaned, slightly embarrassed by his remark. Despite the physical affection you and Wrecker engaged in whenever and wherever you were, you had yet to have sex. The rest of the group were aware of this too, which is probably why Hunter made his little ‘get a room’ remark. 

“Should we leave you two alone?” Crosshair asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“We’re not doing anything!” You cried. 

“You can leave us alone,” Wrecker said proudly. Your eyes widened at his words, and watched as Hunter, Echo, Tech and Crosshair stood up from their sitting positions. 

“See you guys later,” Echo grinned as they walked out of the cockpit of the Marauder and outside. 

“What was that for?” You pouted at Wrecker, who was smiling down at you. 

“I’ve been thinking lately Y/N,” he started. 

“That’s not good,” you joked, a slight snort erupting from your throat, however, you stopped laughing when you saw his serious expression. “What’s wrong Wreck?”

“Why haven’t we had sex yet?” He said suddenly. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed. “I don’t… There just hasn’t been a right time. You know, cramped on this little ship with four other men, there’s not much time.” 

“Well…” Wrecker sucked in a sharp breath. “They’re gone now.”

“You want to have sex? Now?” You asked. You were completely flabbergasted as he nodded. You never expected him to ask outright for sex. You felt a heat rise in your core as Wrecker looked at you with those innocent eyes of his. You looked around the room before nodding shyly. “I suppose…”

“I only want to do this if you want to,” Wrecker replied. 

“No it’s not that,” you said quickly. “I’m just nervous is all.” 

Wrecker kissed your cheek and stood up, lifting you with him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and squealed. “Don’t be nervous,” he whispered seductively. He carried you to your shared bunk and plopped you down on the hard mattress before slowly removing his armour, leaving him in just his blacks. Then, with his large hands, he bent down and yanked your pants off. You gasped as you were left in just your shirt and underwear. 

“W-Wrecker!” You whimpered, eyes wide. “Be careful!” 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll just buy you a new pair,” Wrecker shrugged as he looked at your torn up trousers on the floor. His eyes slowly drifted up back to your form lay on the bunk, your underwear looked so inviting to him. With shaky hands, he looped his fingers round the waistband of your panties and pulled them down slowly. The cool air hit your core and you attempted to close your legs out of embarrassment, but Wrecker was quicker, forcing your legs apart. “Don’t be shy baby,” he cooed. He slicked a finger up your folds, feeling how wet you were for him, your arousal evident between your legs in the form of pearl-coloured liquid. Wrecker prodded the tip of his finger into your entrance and a gasp left your lips. “I’m going to push my finger all the way in, okay baby?” He said, staring into your eyes. You nodded and braced yourself, grasping the sheets below you as he forced his finger into your cunt. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You threw your head back into the sheets and closed your eyes. “Relax for me baby,” Wrecker whispered. 

“I am!” You cried out. “Your finger is just too big!” 

“If you think that’s big you should see my dick,” Wrecker couldn’t help but laugh as he slowly moved his finger in and out of you. You let out a cry and tried to close your legs yet again, but Wrecker kept them open. “Baby it’s okay,” he whispered.

“I know I know,” you replied. Your grip on the sheets below loosened as you adjusted to his finger but you didn’t get a chance to fully relax as he was poking his second finger inside you almost immediately. 

“Such a good girl,” Wrecker mused as he admired the way your cunt was sucking his fingers in. “Got to open you up just enough for me, m’kay?” 

You nodded, gasping once more as his fingers began to move inside of you at a languid pace. “Wrecker,” you whimpered, bucking your hips up slightly. He chuckled at your eagerness and put his thumb on your clit, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body twitched with pleasure as you felt your first orgasm already nearing. You were embarrassed to say the least at how quickly he had you coming undone. Your vision began to spot white and your hands flew to Wrecker’s large shoulders. “I’m cumming,” you cried out. Wrecker continued moving his fingers inside of you slowly, pushing you over the edge completely. When your orgasm had passed, Wrecker pulled his fingers out of you and brought them up to his lips. He sucked the two fingers that had been inside of you clean, his face contorting into one of pure pleasure as he tasted you. When he was finished, he pulled his fingers out of his mouth and climbed on top of you, bulge pressing against your cunt. “Take off your blacks,” you groaned, pawing at his chest. Wrecker laughed and nodded, taking off his blacks and revealing his extremely toned body. He may have been larger than the others, but he was certainly in shape. His cock was massive, bigger than you had ever seen and you had a mild panic at the thought of him shoving it inside of you. 

As if reading your mind, Wrecker smiled softly at you. “Relax baby.”

He grasped the base of his cock and positioned himself at your entrance before pushing inside of you slowly. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in closer to your frame. “It hurts,” you cried out.

“I’m almost all the way in baby. You’re doing so well,” Wrecked praised you. He pressed soft kisses on your neck as he slowly bottomed out inside of you. “Oh kriff, you’re so tight,” he grumbled. He stayed put for a minute before giving an experimental thrust to gauge your reaction. When you let out a soft moan, Wrecker continued his movements. Slow and steady, he was. Your name fell from his lips as he moved, cockhead rubbing against your cervix so deliciously. He pulled out of you completely before slamming back in. Your pussy clenched around him, sucking him further into your body. “This feels so good.” 

“S’good,” you babbled. You were completely cock drunk as Wrecker continued to slam against you, hands wrapped around your body keeping you close to him. 

“Why didn’t we do this before?” Wrecker gasped as he hit that spot deep inside you that felt too good for him. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You let out a squeal and yelp, your second orgasm approaching. “If you keep moving like that Wreck, I’m going to cum again!” You warned, almost begging him to not let you cum. 

“Cream all over my dick baby, it’s okay. I know you can do it,” he whispered into your ear and with those words, your orgasm fell upon you like a tidal wave. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your body fell limp against his. 

“Oh kriff,” Wrecker moaned. “Going to cum myself,” his hips rocked against yours, pushing further into you. The pleasure was overwhelming and all you could do was just lay there and moan his name over and over again. With a few more thrusts, Wrecker was leaking inside of you. He growled as he came, slamming into you a few more times before stopping, his body shaking as he finished cumming. “Holy shit,” he whispered once he was finished pouring inside of you.

You let out a breathy laugh, wrapping your arms around Wrecker and holding him close to you. “That was incredible,” you smiled. Wrecker nodded as he rolled off of you and lay flat on his back staring at the ceiling. 

“And we’ll do it again, right?” He asked, a cheeky grin on his face. 

“Only if you want to,” you replied. Wrecker just nodded and pulled your body on top of his.

“Give me a few minutes and we can go for round two,” he breathed heavily. 

“Round two?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. You sat up and looked down at your boyfriend lovingly. “You really want to go again?” 

“May as well before the others come back,” Wrecker laughed. You nodded and lay back down, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t need long before he was ready for round two, ready to destroy your cunt with his huge cock once more. 

CROSSHAIR was sat cleaning his rifle, as per usual. He had been in that same position for at least half an hour, his eyes not moving from one spot. “You okay Cross?” You asked, sitting up from your position on the bed. He looked over to you and nodded his head, turning swiftly back to cleaning his rifle. He wasn’t a man of many words, you had come to realise this. You continued to stare at him as he cleaned his rifle. 

After a while, Crosshair looked up. He saw you still gazing at him, a sly smirk spreading across his lips. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he said. 

You shook your head, shaking yourself out of your trance, a slight blush on your cheeks. “S-Sorry,” you squeaked. 

“Don’t be cutie,” he said, placing his rifle on the floor before standing up and stretching. He was dressed in his blacks, armour long since discarded after the most recent mission. You could see every defined muscle on his body as he stretched. “See something you like?” He asked, still grinning at you. 

Your throat ran dry for a moment and you had to gulp down the lump that had formed in your throat from embarrassment. “I-I just spaced out,” you managed to choke out. 

“Spaced out staring at me?” Crosshair chuckled. You nodded shyly as he walked over to you, towering over your sitting form. “Y’know, sweetheart, if you liked me all you’d have to do is just say.” You were shocked. Crosshair hadn’t ever spoken to you this much before. And sure, you found him extremely attractive but you knew nothing about him other than he was a good shot with a gun. 

“I just spaced out,” you repeated, sounding more confident this time. 

Crosshair hummed at you, watching your red cheeks deepen. “You know, sometimes I space out staring at you too,” he whispered in your ear. 

Your eyes widened in surprise and you blinked rapidly at him. “You do?” You asked, tilting your head to the side, looking up at him. Crosshair just nodded at you, his eyes staring into your own. You felt your heart skip a beat as he leaned in closer to your ear, nibbling on your lobe seductively. 

“I find you very, very attractive Y/N,” he whispered. Your body shivered as his wet tongue licked a stripe up your earlobe. You were at a loss for words. Crosshair stopped and turned around before making his way over to his bunk and sitting down. “Why don’t you come over here, pretty thing,” he whispered, patting his lap. You nodded slowly, standing up and shyly walking over to the sniper. When you were within arms distance, Crosshair grasped your hips and pulled you onto his lap. 

“Cross!” You squealed, falling onto his lap. 

Crosshair just continued to grin at you as his hands massaged your hips slowly. “What’s wrong princess?” He asked softly in your ear. You just nodded as you felt his hand trail down to the waistband of your trousers, slipping a hand down them. You let out a soft gasp as his hand slipped down the fabric of your underwear, stopping just before your clit. “You want this, right sweetheart? I see the way you look at me. Big eyes staring longingly at me…” he trailed off, awaiting your answer. 

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered, closing your eyes as one of his fingers poked at your clit, moving painfully slow circles. Your body stuttered slightly upon impact, not used to being touched like this, not in a long time. 

“You’re sensitive,” Crosshair remarked, shit-eating grin still plastered on his lips. You let out a soft whine as his finger sped up its pace, slow circles now moving slightly faster. His free hand moved from your hips to your lips, stopping any noise from escaping. “Quiet princess. We wouldn’t want the others to walk in on us would we?” You shook your head quickly. A ‘good girl’ left his lips as his finger fell from your clit to your pussy, prodding at your entrance. Without any warning, he shoved his finger deep inside you, past his knuckle and slowly began to finger you. His fingers were slender, like him, but by God you felt it. After a few moments of slowly fingering you, Crosshair growled and retracted his finger. “Take these off,” he snapped, tugging your pants and underwear down to your ankles. “They’re getting in my way,” he groaned, throwing them across the room and pushing you next to him on the bed. 

You were surprised when he stood up, kneeling down in front of you on the floor and pushing your legs apart. “W-what are you doing Cross?” You asked. 

“Just having a little taste,” he replied, leaning his face into your cunt. You let out a loud gasp as his tongue licked a stripe up your folds before he dived in. He was already eating you like a man starved of food for a month, and he didn’t let up as he held your legs further apart. 

“Crosshair,” you moaned softly, hands resting slightly on the top of his head pushing him further down into you. His tongue prodded into your tight hole, licking you with a fever nobody ever had before. 

“You taste so good,” he mumbled into your cunt and you let out a disapproving whine. Despite your whining, Crosshair continued lapping and sucking at your pussy desperately, moaning as he did. 

“Cross, I’m gonna cum if you keep it up,” you exclaimed, trying your hardest to wiggle away from him.

“Soak my face princess,” was all he replied into your cunt. You couldn’t hold on any longer. You just let yourself go, wetting his face shamelessly despite your red face. “Such a good girl,” he moaned as he lapped up your juices. Crosshair wasted no time pulling his blacks down, his cock springing free. He was slender, but large, your eyes widening when you saw him. “It’ll fit, don’t worry,” he smirked. 

“That’s not what I was thinking,” you tried to defend yourself, crossing your arms over your chest and huffing slightly. 

“Oh yeah?” He teased as he crawled on top of you. His lips trailed wet kisses down your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin until it would no doubt bruise. “Gonna fill you up so kriffin’ good.” 

You let out a soft moan as the tip of his cock inched its way inside of you. You gasped when he was half-way in, grasping at his shoulders desperately. He cooed at you and soothed you as he pushed the remaining inches inside, until you were full to the brim. Crosshair didn’t give you any time to adjust, instead, he just began to fuck you roughly. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. Like an animal, he growled, his hips snapping roughly against your own. “Crosshair,” you whimpered, legs closing around his waist as he continued fucking you, never letting up his pace. 

“What’s wrong, pet?” He asked, continually kissing at your neck. He was going to leave marks on you and let the others know who you belonged to. 

“It’s too much,” you gasped, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. 

“You can take it, I know you can,” he cooed. He pulled out of you before snapping his hips roughly against yours once more, fully sheathing himself inside of you. You moaned loudly, covering your mouth in the hopes that the other guys didn’t hear your cries. Crosshair laughed, before a moan slipped through, your pussy clenching around him like a vice. “Kriff baby, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum with me, please,” you begged, feeling your second orgasm approaching. 

“You’re going to cum again?” Crosshair chuckled. “Filthy girl. Always knew you wanted my dick inside of you.” 

You nodded enthusiastically, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Yes. Yes. Yes!” You chanted, all thoughts of being caught went out of your head. “I’m cumming Cross. I’m cumming again.” And just as you said that, you came, harder than you ever have over his cock. Crosshair let out a grunt and snapped his hips a few more times before spilling himself deep into you whilst panting heavily. He immediately pulled out once the thick ropes of cum had stopped shooting from his cock and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 

“That was just what I needed,” he panted, wiping some sweat from his brow. 

You stared at the ceiling attempting to catch your breath, simultaneously nodding. “It was,” you said, face heating up. 

You were about to open your mouth to ask Crosshair if he was okay when there was a knock at the door. “You guys okay in there?” It was Hunter. 

“Fine,” Crosshair yelled back as he pulled up his blacks. 

“Next time you’re going to fuck, let us know and we’ll leave,” Hunter groaned before walking away. 

“Huh,” Crosshair laughed. He picked up your trousers off the floor and threw them your way. You caught them and immediately began putting them on. “Don’t get too comfortable, princess. I’m not done with you yet.”

His words sent a shiver up your spine. “You mean… This wasn’t a one time thing?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. 

Crosshair looked genuinely shocked as he shook his head. “Of course not.” You felt your heart swell in your chest as you looked at the sniper, and you knew you had found the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. “Come lay with me,” he whispered, letting his emotional walls down. You laid down next to him on his bunk and snuggled up against him, groaning at the feeling of the soft weight next to you. “You know, I’ve loved you for a long time.” 

You were surprised to hear those words leave his lips, but you smiled. “I love you too Crosshair.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and closed his eyes, resting them. But like he said, don’t get too comfortable. He isn’t finished with you yet. 

[mixtapedoh]

Hi olive! For your writing event, what about felix and waiting for us?

thank you all so much for reminding me how much of a sucker i am for skz ballads; idk what they lace their lyrics with to make me feel!!!!!! so very many!!!!!!! things!!!!!! but it's very appreciated

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴛᴀʟꜱ ꜰᴀʟʟ

☄. *. ⋆

pairing: lee felix x reader genre: fluff, long distance relationship word count: 1.1k warnings: emotional at the beginning for no other reason than me liking a little bit of yearning. a hint of want.

olive's notes: yongbokkie???? in this economy????? i hope i can do him justice. on the fence with this title, i could decide if i wanted to do that line or "smile, facing each other." both felt appropriate, but the former feels more... evocative? idk. the vibes here are like if waiting for us by skz and why won't you love me by 5SOS met in a bar and kissed or something. idk.

consider my mini writing event ?

There was a lethargic shuffle to the coffee shop you habitually frequented. When you wanted to be productive in the work set out before you, or simply wanted to stave off the loneliness that would occasionally come biting — a feeling familiar to you but not quite tamed — you would always meander your way here. The permanent, sleepy fluorescent lights casting a dull orange glow no matter the hour outside it’s hypnotic four walls, the same soft-spoken, slow-drawled baristas who were just well-mannered enough to exchange pleasantries before easing back to their college textbooks, the subdued, almost-dough like quality of the lo-fi hip hop playlist that looped ad-naseum, gentle beats and occasional lazy vocalization lulling you into a doze: there was something languid, in this place where you nursed your caffeine fix. Tired, but not unplesantly so. Worn, but not so thin. 

It was that mutability, perhaps, that often slipped your mind to that velvet lined feeling of nostalgia.

“We’ll always find each other again…”

You took a long drink from the insulated cup in front of you, your eyes pulling away from the book you’d placed in front of you, a borrowed, dog-earred thing that had sprawling writing in the margins, almost illegible, but felt more than they were consciously understood. You’d swapped it months ago, now. At the time, he’d joked that you both read so slow, you’d probably reunite long before either of you would finish. But the day had come when you turned the last page. And here you were, again, a second read, near mid-way through.

The baristas were absorbed in texts of their own; couples sat at the high tables along the widows, murmuring warmly in tones too low to hear. There was an old woman, and she had all the supplies to crochet.

The taste of your drink lingered on your tongue, and the flavor gave way to hazy memories you were slow to blink away.

You popped in an earbud. The tone sounded brightly, bluetooth alerting you to its connection, and you dialed a familiar number.

“Beep… beep… beep…”

You slumped down in your seat — not entirely sure why you were doing so, but searching for the comfort of oblivion all the same.

"You have no new voice messages, and one saved voice message. To play saved voice messages, press pound.

"You have one saved voice message. Saved voice messages:

“(Y/n); hi… um… I know it’s late, so I wasn’t expecting you to pick up, but umm… I was missing you, and I wanted to hear your voice, and I guess I thought calling would work? I only remembered the time difference after it was too late, so yeah… I miss you… I’m thinking of you. You know, it’s funny, uh, Seungmin was talking, yesterday, and he said I talk about you so much it’s like I’m trying to make the rest of them feel lonely… it was right after I sent you that picture of the birds sitting on the um… wire, together. I guess I talk about you too much. So if you see him tomorrow and he pretends to be annoyed with you… yeah. Well, now you know why. Umm… that’s all I had to say; I’ve gotta go now… I love you.”

There was the faintest sound of air crackling on the other end. Like fabric of an oversized sweatshirt enveloping the microphone on the other end, a hug of sound. You heard him breathe. Then it was over.

“End of saved voice messages.

“Goodbye, now.”

Better to be free of this coffee shop - your flight was in a few hours, and you ought to gather the rest of your things - be prepared for when you get there. It was going to be a long flight.

You’d need something to pass the time. Your hands ghosted over the book before you; half read for a second time, a sweet ending that drifted into the ellipses of a happily ever after. Uncertain, happy, vague.

Maybe you’d buy an overpriced paperback at the airport.

Time ebbed and flowed, and you left the coffee shop, vacated your old apartment with the rest of your luggage in tow, said farewell to the streets you’d grown accustomed to, but never quite attached. You listened to the voicemail again at the airport, texted someone who could not reply, and then settled in for the strange sort of dissonance a plane ride can offer. Crossing a distance but stuck in the same headspace.

“I’m waiting, you know? I’m holding on, and when I see you next, I’m never letting go.”

The plane touched down with a sigh, and everyone aboard let out one of their own. You’d finished half of the book you’d picked up for the trip, slow-reading still. But here, in the middle of the story, things were still new. Life had only started to begin, and rather than a hazy, fading ellipses, there was still ground to tread. Paragraphs that led like arrows to a story only now dawning and with the sun, unfold.

The airport was hectic, as always. A far cry from the inertia of the coffee shop from earlier, a wave of movement, a cacophony of motion and sound. You picked your way through the crowd and in the rush of action, missed the phone call you were so hoping to catch. Your phone was still on vibrate, and the feeling of the person you were longing for the most reaching out to you through the divide, trying to grab hold of you before you were to disappear once again, was muffled by the giddy nervousness coursing through your body.

When you finally checked your phone and saw the call log, you swore.

“Beep… beep… beep…”

It was harder to hear, in the airport, with families milling about, people reuniting with happy shrieks, and everyone calling out names, grinning impossibly wide, catching their loved ones and pulling them close. If Felix were here… if you were to catch sight of his smiling face…

“You have one new voice message, and one saved voice message. New voice messages:”

“(Y/n).”

You pushed the phone closer to your ear, fumbling with the volume buttons. Why was it that voicemail still had such terrible sound quality?

“I’m waiting for you by the, um—”

Someone grabbed your shoulder and you spun.

“Felix!”

And your lips crashed onto his, your arms wrapping around him in a hug like a vice. He returned your joy with equal force, and when you pulled away from him he peppered you with kisses to your cheeks and forehead and the bridge of your nose. 

“You’re here,” and the words slipped through you warm: incandescent, the sun. Eventually, he’d given you the space to breathe, and, having taken your bags from you, the two of you walked side by side, Felix giving you his hand when yours itched for something to hold.

“Always.” And he kissed your forehead again.

☄. *. ⋆

blog home

[prismuffin]

I'm very sorry Crow Anon. I did steal our brain cell, I couldn't remember how to clean my clothes and needed big brain power. ÒWÓ

👉👈 I give it back, I promise.

But, Pris I have an ask for you, that may cheer you up!!

How do you think taking care of the batboys (separately) after they got their wisdom tooth taken out, would go??!

I think it would be funny, snice they're chaotic on their own. Without any drugs in their system.

(Alfred definitely banned Dick "Its faster if I jump out the window to the floor balcony under me" Grayson from drinking caffeine until he was an adult).

- OwO

As someone who’s gotten their wisdom teeth removed quite recently I’d say I’m capable of answering this ask. Each of these scenarios has a bit from my experience ok? so—

Jason would be the type to just want to nap. Even when you successfully got him in the car to take him home all he was doing was saying how he wanted to nap but ong he never even tries to close his eyes to sleep once. After you both get home and you help him into bed the first thing he does after you change his gauze is crash. Which makes things difficult for you because now you have to undress his limp body and move it so that he's not laying down completely so that he doesn't accidentally choke since he's still rather numb. When he wakes up he's sad about the food he can't eat so he tries not to for as long as he can. Overall a very sleepy guy after getting his wisdom teeth removed.

Dick is so chaotic off the bat. Even when they were wheeling him out to the car you could tell that he was gonna be a handful. Tried to call everyone on his phone and when that failed he resorted to carpool karaoke. You tried to get him to stop since he shouldn't try talking but he just wouldn't shut up. Once you got home and tried to get him into bed he'd just be laughing at your struggle which would just make you struggle more since he'd be even harder to move while laughing. Because of the laughter he bleeds all over the floors and his shirt which he only laughs harder at. Similar to Jason kinda because once you replace his gauze he's out like a light, and finally you have a moment of silence for the time being. (this entire paragraph was just my experience and I'm not even joking LMFAO)

Tim would probably be almost the most tame, he'd be very sleepy and would start to mumble about tech he's working on. He'd ask you questions about designs and such and you'd just have to remind him to sit still and try not to talk much. Overall a sweetheart, he listens to you and doesn't try and talk while you're switching out his gauze. He sleeps, wakes up, and eats jello all day. The least of your problems honestly.

Damian would be quiet at first...too quiet, then comes the complaining. He'd be annoyed that he was in pain and numb at the same time??? Makes a song about the pain. You have to stop him from biting his lips because he's numb and is probably biting way harder than he realizes. After getting him home and changing his gauze he's very vocal about his hunger and is sad that he can't have normal food, but he likes the chocolate pudding so it's bittersweet for him. After his numbing wares off some and the pain starts hitting he's even more complainy- especially since he did bite his lip too hard and now it's bleeding which neither of you noticed until then. He's fine if you can get him to stop complaining though.

( I’m so so sorry this took me a minute to answer yesterday I woke up and my day went to shit and stuff happened and I had a mental breakdown and forgot all about this message! )

———

Directory

[cloginthedrain]

rooftops and vigilantes (part one) (matt murdock x reader)

summary: caffeine-fiend, student teacher!reader encounters a headline-making vigilante on her rooftop.

masterlist | next

word count: 1,634 words

notes: no gendered pronouns yet? i imagine reader as fem presenting, and future descriptions might entail that. outside of canon! this one has been a long time coming! lots of fluff to come! my very first matt fanfic, hope you enjoy <3

comments & reblogs always appreciated!

—

You often sought refuge and solace in the sleepy, serene hours of the morning. Like the morning last, the sun crept out from its hiding place, unsteady but bright. 

You found comfort in the inevitable: the shift from summer to autumn, and autumn to winter, and winter to spring, as well as the whisper of the wind amongst trees—the busy bustle of the leaves. You brought your cup of coffee to your lips, disgustingly sweet, and took in the sight of the sleeping city and its bare, almost empty streets.

Your cheeks flushed from the cold, and your spirits were rekindled by the pretty sight.

It was the only time the city seemed beautiful to you.

Like the shift of the seasons, it was inevitable, too, your sweet, hypnotizing reverie was bound to end. A loud splat could be heard around you. You swung your head around to see some asshole, clad in all-black and a mask, now in the center of your field of vision. Your eyes met.

Shit. 

His masked face was angled downward, as if assessing the situation in front of him—you were doing the same. From what you could make out, the man was a rugged sort of handsome, with a prominent stubble and defined jaw—the only visible bit of his body besides his fingers, free from the confines of his gloves, and the bits of skin exposed by holes in the fabric of his shirt. Fresh wounds. The rest of his body, defined and built, was covered in black spandex material.

Despite his physical injuries, the man in black was seemingly unscathed, save for his labored breathing. You could only imagine what sorts of trouble he had been entangled in, not to mention, what sorts of trouble he could mean for you, and yet your feet carry you a step closer—your interest piqued, and hypnotized by his build. 

You tugged your comforter a little tighter around you before mustering the courage to say, “Come here often?”

Seemingly, for a moment, the air stilled—quiet, as if it was also awaiting his answer. He angled his face upward, in your direction, and he laughed.

“No, uh,” he says, voice gruff, but kind. “I wouldn’t say that—definitely not my usual route home.” 

You shifted your feet, realizing the implications of his ensemble. A vigilante, or someone much sketchier. And quite frankly, you weren’t inclined to stick around to find out. Despite your resolve, your heart sparked with excitement as you mused that, maybe he—no, you reasoned, he couldn’t be. Not the Man in Black. He was just some idiot running around in a mask. Though you weren’t entirely convinced the Man in Black wasn’t also an idiot running around in a mask.

A potentially harmful idiot. 

You maintain your composure. Surely, if he had wanted to hurt you, he would have already. Right? Still, your eyes dart to the door behind him. “Huh, might have gathered that, by the getup, and, well, the rooftop detour,” you quip.

“Trust me: rooftops are not my preferred mode of transportation.” 

An alarm buzzed loudly in your pocket. 6:15. Your eyes lit up in realization, an exit: the God awful class you taught, at eight in the morning! Quite terrible. 

“Alright, then,” you offered lamely. “I’d better—“ You gestured to the door behind him. 

He said nothing in response, angling his head upward, as if he was straining to hear something.

“I’d say I’d see you around but uh,” you ducked your head for a moment to find your keys on your person, but when you looked up, the man was gone. 

—

Every morning since, you set your alarm for just before the sun was reunited with the horizon and found itself tucked beautifully among the brushstrokes of color throughout the reddish-orange sky. 

You’d hope to see the man. Your curiosity is high, but expectations are low. 

Somewhat begrudgingly, you resolved to return to the dreaded task that’s stolen the greater part of your week as well as your sleep: stacks of ungraded midterms. Your canvas messenger bag weighs you down as you push open the door to your favorite café. You’re met with the unmistakable smell of dark roast drip, a heavenly scent. 

You’re early today: chairs are still upturned onto the tables. You perk up, your favorite barista at the counter, sipping a coffee of her own. 

“Hey,” you muster. 

“Your usual?” Ellie pens in black sharpie, Y/N, with a wonky smiley face. 

“Make it a triple shot.” 

“Oof, late night?” Ellie sympathizes as she falls into the familiar groove of making your comfort chai tea latte. Extra cinnamony.

“And an extra early morning. Got lots of grading.”

Latte in hand, you settle into your usual booth, and pull your laptop and your stack of student papers. 

Settled into the tranquility of the morning, you’re in your element, and you’re grading papers with the efficiency of a Fordian factory line, while being sure to mark the margins with thoughtful comments and critiques. That is, until the second customer pushes the door open and the familiar, irritating tune of the electronic bell plays. 

You slump in your seat, and search hopelessly for your shitty wired earbuds when you hear his voice. 

“One dark roast drip to go.”

Your eyes pick up and see a man in a department store suit that suited him remarkably well, sporting a pair of red specs, and guided by the swift motions of his white cane. It couldn’t be him then, right? You scan the café for anyone else you might’ve overheard. It had to be him, right? Who else?

“Anything else, Matt?” Ellie asked, punching keys on the cash register. 

Matt. A regular. 

You wondered if he lived nearby. 

He waves her off, “Nah, that’s alright, El.” 

“For Foggy?” she asks dubiously, pulling a second paper cup. 

“Ah, right,” he chuckles. “Make that two.” He’s all smiles, cooly finding his debit card in his beat up leather wallet, that is, until he sees you. He stops in his tracks, and if possible, stares. He abruptly turns, white cane in hand, and walks out without his coffee. 

“Damndest thing, huh?” Ellie remarks. “Clients call, I guess.”

Clients?

Curious.

You stake out the next morning, two drips brewed from your dingy Keurig, a peace offering in the best case scenario, and the worst case scenario, a second cup for you. 

Finally relieved of your paper grading obligations as of last night, you bask in the feeling of freedom and accomplishment as you sip your coffee lazily.

You take a sip from the lid of your paper cup when you look up. 

“Matt?”

“Damn it,” he pulls his mask off in frustration, and he paces, running his fingers through his hair. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” 

He stops in mid tracks. 

“Ellie told me all about what you and your friend Froggy do,” you explain. You learned of all of the pro bono work he provided to the community at Nelson and Murdock. You were newer to the neighborhood.

“Foggy.”

“Huh?” 

“My partner’s name is Foggy.”

“Right,” you flush. “Well, it’s just nice knowing someone’s looking out.” shrug. 

“Huh,” he remarks lamely. He seems to notice the second cup of coffee, somehow. He perks up. “That for me?” 

He answered all sorts of questions. What he does, why he does it. Is he actually blind? Yes and no, you learned.

And when you remark how much he shared, his eyes twinkled, and he said raspily, breathlessly, “It’s just nice that someone knows.”

Next time you see him, he’s hunched over, tapping his fingers on your sliding glass door. With the other hand, he’s cradling the gash on his abdomen.

You pull the faulty door with all your might to help Matt in, settling him on your well-loved, lumpy couch. 

“Matt, I’ve never—“ 

“That’s alright, do you have a sewing kit and whiskey?”

You return with both, alongside a first aid kit. You prod, “You sure I can’t help?”

“That’s okay,” He assures you, hearing your heart pound and practically topple out of your chest. “Maybe have a swig of that.” He strains, pushing the whiskey back into your hands.

You twist the cap, taking a generous swig, and find some bandaging in your first aid kit. 

He’s slouched on the couch, shirt lifted, skin exposed, attending to his wound. After he snips the excess thread at the end of his stitch, with trembling hands, you smooth the bandage over some dressing, “Good as new.” 

He cracks a strained smile, “Thanks, uh, won’t happen again.” You take note of how handsome he looks, all rugged. 

You hum in understanding, tapping the bare skin of your thighs. He caught you in your pajamas. Shortest of shorts, barest of tank tops. No bra. Hell’s Kitchen’s summers were unforgiving. Scorching hot. 

Sweat beaded above your lips.

Matt in all his rugged glory couldn’t exactly see you, but you felt exposed nonetheless.

“Hey,” you pipe up, “How’d you find me?” He knew your building, you had figured, but he had never been to your place.

“You really wanna know?”

You think for a moment, taking another swig from the bottle. “Yeah, yeah I do.” 

“I recognized you,” he says. “The lavender, I can practically taste it.” 

You sniff, self-conscious. He chuckles.

“Right, heightened senses.” You recall the dab of lavender you scent your wrists and the back of your neck with, day and night. You were a relatively anxious person, which is why you were drawn to lavender, and crime-fighting vigilantes like Matt, apparently. 

He stares past you, still slumped on the couch. “Thanks.” 

You tuck your hair behind your ear, stomach still warm from the whiskey. “Happy to help.”

He wobbles up, hand cradling his wound. “See you around?”

All you can manage is a nod.

—

next

[vypridae]

YOU HAVE HCS

GIVE :D

(i love hearing hcs literally RAMBLE if you want to:D)

OAHAOGHAOFDHA WELL. OKAY IF YOU SAY SO

under a cut bc i feel like im gonna overexplain or talk about waaay too many HSJKGHDFG

dazai needs glasses. he doesn't get them for himself because he thinks he can put it off. kunikida ends up getting him those circle glasses and he's like "noooo i don't want these i'll look like a nerd" but kunikida makes him keep them anyway bc he uses his lack of Vision as an excuse to not do his work. he thinks hes gonna get teased for looking stupid but everyone thinks he looks absolutely GORGEOUS and he gets like 10x more compliments on the street

dazai has morse code memorized and likes to fuck with kunikida in the ada dorms by tapping a message on his wall. kunikida has Overstressed trying to translate

yosano accidentally will infodump on neat medfacts and someone always has to tell her she's rambling (and usually its ranpo)

kyouka's favorite animals are bunnies, chinchillas and kittens, but she's allergic to cats (imagine how awful it is living with atsushi /j)

it is very funny to me to imagine akutagawa gets easily scared

hirotsu is the aroace ally who gets to deal with everyone coming to him to rant about / talk shit about / talk about their crushes on others

Q speaks fluent german and they love jumpscaring the pm members with it

louisa loves to dress up her room whenever she uses her ability. she doesn't really need to, she just likes to. maybe she'll have some coffee, and a really comfortable chair, and some lilac or pumpkin spice candles depending on her Vibe TM, and its just so aesthetic

nikolai can replicate signatures, and by extension handwriting, almost perfectly. he uses this to his advantage to forge notes. he also uses this to help sigma when he's Super Fucking Tired

sigma's favorite cookies are double chocolate chip

dazai trying the pocky game vs chuuya who just takes the pocky, kisses dazai, and then eats the pocky

poe visits ranpo while hes in the agency and he'll bring a new snack for ranpo every single time, it's always something he's heard ranpo offhandedly say he wants to try

nikolai is a WONDERFUL cook. if he notices sigma hasn't eaten in a little while / hasnt left his office in a bit, he'll surprise him and show up with a plate of homecooked ukrainian food, or homemade cookies (double chocolate chip), and sigma is soooo grateful. i also think nikolai knows what sigma likes in terms of coffee so he makes him coffees a lot because sigma is so sleepy and gets caffeine headaches

tecchou refuses to eat food thats not the same color, but he's actually a really good cook and jouno is genuinely surprised when tecchou makes him an actually delicious breakfast/dinner/whatever, and hes like "so does this mean you're done with your weird food combinations?" and tecchou is like "no, but i know you don't like them so i'm not going to force you to eat them." and jouno is like. wait. hold on. why are you nice

[pearlsofthec]

hi girl i really need to vent to someone about this… im currently in my first year of college and i’m taking a bachelor that i really love and feel like it’s meant for me. but nevertheless i struggle to bring myself to study - im a very lazy person and i feel like i do my best only under pressure. but that gives me so much stress and its not healthy to my body. i know that laziness is my weak point but sometimes i feel guilty about not studying because “im not feeling it” and i always have to rush myself.

whats your experience with uni? do you have any advice for me? thank you feel free not to respond if you dont feel like it ❤️❤️❤️

Hii I'm glad you sent me this message because I honestly go through the same procrastination rabbit hole during exams seasons, and even though I don't know if I can offer you a solution, I can at least say I totally understand where you're coming from!

I'm not exactly cured from this, but a few things have helped me work through it, and I'm gonna share them with the hopes they could help you too! SO, first of all, although it may sound completely unrelated, changing my diet actually increased my focus so so much. Last year, my diet consisted mainly of carbs, bad, easy to get carbs, which not only end up making you look unhealthy, but also feel sluggish. I knew how eating would always make me feel sleepy, so I would just postergate having any as much as I could, drink a lot of caffeine, eat a completely unbalanced dinner and sleep almost immediately. In theory that sounds somewhat practical, but when I tell you I could not focus or be productive at all while doing this crazy routine I mean it. Staying consistent in your work also means staying consistent in other parts of your life, so I definitely would recommend working out your health routine in coordination of your study routine! I wrote about the food situation, but that alone would have made a fraction of the difference I've felt having solved both that problem and organizing a consistent physical activity schedule (I do 1h of pilates/ yoga 4-6 times a week!).

I also had to get in my head that there will never be a perfect time to study. I'll never feel like studying, I'll never be in the mood to read a book about the conservation of architecture or do three hours worth of physics exercises, so I stimulate myself with the thought that though there is no perfect moment, this could be the as perfect as it gets moment, and just force myself to do it. I think more than anything, it's important not to fall into the trap of only working when you feel motivated, and create a work routine that's tied to your habits. There's this portuguese saying my mom always tells me "The "perfect" is the "good"'s enemy", and though it may sound crazy, it kind of makes sense... sometimes you procrastinate so much trying to achieve perfection, that you forget that a good result, is far more valuable than a well intentioned unfinished one.

There are probably more things, but I think I've already bored you enough! I'm sure you're gonna get there, let me know <3

XX

[insipid-drivel]

Berskerker Tea

I got to try the infamous “Berserker Tea” lauded by the Norse and Vikings. I had some the other day, but I’m having some as I write this, too, and I feel like sharing what the experience is like:

First off, my partner is from a very traditional Norwegian family. His gift to me upon arriving to move in with me was a drinking horn trimmed in hammered gold, carved from an ox horn, and etched with the symbol of a wolf. With him, he also brought... recipes.

A little cultural factoid: Before one can drink from a drinking horn, you have to “blood the horn”, aka cut yourself - usually nothing worse than a papercut - and swipe the blood into the grooves of the animal or deity carved onto the horn itself. It’s done in order to protect the warrior drinking from it from bad luck and evil spirits, particularly before and during battle. To my understanding, the blood “feeds” the figure carved on the horn in order to call upon its protection.

“Berserker Tea” is essentially the closest modern equivalent to the draught that Norse berserker warriors would consume before going into battle. Some of the ingredients are a secret, but it’s mostly comprised of tea (I prefer chamomile), mead (a wine-like alcoholic beverage made from fermenting honey and is also very high in healthy probiotics), and psilocybin mushrooms steeped for hours or days at a time and consumed cold. The longer the mix is allowed to sit, the more potent the drink becomes. It’s not unusual to mix cannabis in, either, in order to stimulate the appetite and make it easier to sleep. Shrooms can suppress the appetite and stimulate different areas of the brain so it’s difficult to sleep, and weed naturally counters those symptoms so you can snack and sleep whenever you genuinely want to.

It smells amazing when it’s still hot and steeping. Like an ancient Pagan holiday.

In spite of the alcohol, it doesn’t make you sleepy or give the sensation of feeling tipsy or drunk. I only have about a gram of mushrooms in mine, which is about the clinical equivalent of a microdose, but holy shit.

First off, at the dosage I prefer, you don’t actually hallucinate. Colors are more striking and beautiful to look at, art is more captivating to see, and stimming feels amazing, but you aren’t going to see little green men or dragons circling the sky. Jokes you’ve heard before become hilarious again like it’s the first time you’ve heard them. Most forms of chronic pain disappear. Music is more than music. Your mood becomes buoyant and pleasant. Feelings of anxiety and depression go away. Chronic fatigue and sleepiness just... evaporate. PTSD and traumatic memories and flashbacks aren’t traumatic anymore - they’re there, and you may actually remember more detail or uncover memories you’ve blocked out, but they can’t overwhelm you anymore. You can choose to observe your memories and make a real, firm statement like, “That sucked and it wasn’t okay, but I’m not going to be afraid of it anymore,” and it works. 

Unlike caffeine, you genuinely feel awake and alert (it’s a lot more like having the right balance of B12 in your system rather than a stimulant like caffeine), and the effects last for 8 hours or more. There is no crash-landing or hangover, and when you sober up, the realizations and observations you made with things like trauma and triggers for depression actually stick.

I wanted to cry the first time I felt the tea kick in for me. It feels like the way antidepressants should feel. I wasn’t hiding from any psychological pain, and the tea wouldn’t let me. It almost feels like it forces you to confront what’s been bothering you, in fact. It doesn’t let you become numb to emotional and psychological pain the way something like opioid use can. It turns your brain into an open book for your own perusal, where the facts and truths are plain in front of you, but as harmless as an ink blot on paper. It lets you process in a way where the most uncomfortable and unexplored passages in your mind are well-lit and safe to delve into.

I didn’t end up sacking Rome or bush-whacking supply trains in the Teutoburg Forest while contemplating rallying behind Versingetorix over in Gaul, but it’s still a pretty awesome experience.

Right now, with another round in my system, all I feel is pleasant and comfortable while also contemplative about my life in general. I’m able to be a little more critical of myself without being self-deprecating, while also being able to be vastly more forgiving of myself, too. There are no strange hallucinations dancing in front of my eyes, and the only compulsion I have that’s out-of-character for me is that I feel like smiling a lot more than usual. I think I may put some music on my headphones and take a walk in the woods. Who knows? It’s a great day.

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

Kisses

A/N: Okay, so let’s pretend that Bucky didn’t blip 😉 That is the job I am trusting you with as you read this, dear reader (especially during a certain part, but you’ll get there when you get there) Also, please ignore my lack of original concepts, as I am well aware that I used this similar concept for a Shawn fic a while back (I promise this version is quite different and much better written) Anyways, happy reading! :)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem Avenger!Reader

Summary: Different types of kisses throughout you and Bucky’s relationship

Word Count: 4.3k+  (oof, much longer than I intended. Sorry, friends!)

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets stabbed, mentions of blood, mentions of pregnancy, (brief) mention of death (nobody actually dies)

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The First Kiss

It was quiet as the two of you walked down the hallway, save for the occasional sounds of Bucky’s boots scuffing on the linoleum. Whether it was because you didn’t want to wake up anyone else in the compound this late at night or because there was nothing left to say, you weren’t sure.

After months of longing looks and nervous conversations (and a bit of pushing from Steve), Bucky finally found the courage to ask you out on a date. He made it a whole ordeal, even bringing flowers when he asked if you wanted to grab some sandwiches from a nearby deli and eat them at the park. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting to hear those words for a while now and told him you’d be happy to. Your shy smile made Bucky’s insides melt and he found himself mirroring one back at you.

Now, your third date--a midnight hike through a trail you suggested--was coming to an end.

“Can I walk you back to your room?” Bucky broke the silence, chewing his lip nervously as he awaited your answer.

“Your room is right across the hall from mine. Aren’t you going that way anyways?” you giggled.

“Let me be a gentleman,” he insisted as you rounded the corner of the hallway that led to your rooms.

“I mean, how can I say no to that?”

“I don’t think you can.” His signature smirk and charm had you melting and you stared at the floor in hopes that he wouldn’t see the obvious ways he affected you.

The two of you arrived at your door almost too soon, and you found yourself wishing that your night together wasn’t over quite yet.

“I had a great time with you, Bucky.” You turned to fully face him, looking up shyly into his eyes.

He took one of your hands with his, bringing it up to his lips. “I did too, Y/N. We should do it again.”

“The date or getting eaten alive by mosquitoes?”

“The mosquitos were endearing but I was more so thinking of another date.”

“I’d like that.” You squeezed his hand before letting go, pushing your door open and taking a step forwards before Bucky’s hand grabbed your wrist. He gently spun you back towards him, his charm suddenly replaced by a more timid look.

“Um, can I . . . would you let me . . .” he glanced down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t respond, simply placing your free hand on his cheek and leaning towards him. His hands both went to wrap around your waist as your lips brushed and your other hand came to rest on his chest. The kiss was slow and soft. There was no need to rush as you stood there in the hallway at 1:45 in the morning, wrapped around each other like you couldn’t let go.

You finally broke away, feeling Bucky’s chest steadily rise beneath your palm as you calmed your own breathing. You tried to play it cool on the outside, though you were screaming with glee internally.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You slowly slipped out of his grasp, a twinkle in your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The Welcome Home Kiss

Your eyelids seemed to droop more by the second as you tried to keep yourself awake. The caffeine you had earlier could only do so much to curb the sleepiness that was settling in your bones. The fact that you were sitting in your bed at the moment probably wasn’t helping, but you were too tired to move.

Waiting up for Bucky seemed like a good idea until it was 2:30 in the morning and he still wasn’t back. He would probably scold you when he got back, saying how sleep deprivation didn’t look good on you, but you didn’t care. You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in a week and you missed him. If you had to pull an all-nighter to do so, so be it.

The sound of footsteps outside your door pulled you from your thoughts. It only took a second to recognize the familiar clunking of Bucky’s combat boots, causing you to perk up as you waited for him to peek into your room.

The footsteps paused outside your door for a moment and you held your breath in anticipation. The door didn’t open though, and the footsteps became fainter, presumably walking away from your room.

Does he think I’m asleep? You frowned. Usually, he at least opened the door to check in on you.

You pulled the blanket off your body, getting out of bed and padding out of your room towards Bucky’s. You did your best to stay quiet as you twisted the door knob in case he was already asleep. It wasn’t uncommon for him to pass out as soon as his head met the pillow after a mission. Lord knows he needed the rest.

You were met with an empty room when you peeked your head in. You almost left, assuming that your excited mind had been playing tricks on you, when you caught sight of light peeking out from beneath the bathroom door. A smile crept its way onto your face and you closed the door behind you, sitting on the edge of his bed and waiting for him to come out.

A few more minutes passed and you debated just letting yourself fall asleep there when the bathroom door swung open. Bucky stepped out, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that you had tried to steal on multiple occasions. He didn’t notice you until he was almost to his bed and lifted his gaze from the floor, jumping back with a “shit!” when he saw you.

“What are you doing up, doll?” he asked once he regained his composure.

“Waiting for you,” you replied simply, pulling him into a hug as soon as he sat down next to you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You pulled back just enough to press your lips against his, relishing the languid movements of his lips against yours at the absurd hour of the morning. His arms traveled down to your hips as yours moved to wrap around his neck.

“Welcome home, sergeant.”

The Fevered Forehead Kiss

You were burning up.

The sweat drenched shirt you were wearing was sticking to your body and the fact that Bucky, AKA: the walking furnace, was laying next to you, wasn’t helping in the slightest. His arm was slung over your back, which made your situation that much worse. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully: a rarity with him. Moving out of bed was sure to wake him up but you really needed to change your shirt.

You sighed, deciding that you needed to get into some dryer clothes if you had any hopes of falling back asleep before the sun rose. Prying yourself from Bucky’s grip as carefully as possible, you swung your feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. A wave of dizziness overcame you, forcing you to brace yourself against the wall. A quiet groan escaped your lips when the dizziness started getting worse rather than fading away. Your vision started to tunnel: a surefire sign that you were going to pass out.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and Bucky’s face came into view. He gently eased you back onto the bed, supporting your back as he layed you back down. You felt a hand brush over your cheek as the dizziness faded and your senses returned.

Bucky frowned at how warm your cheek felt beneath his touch. You were feeling a little warm when he carried you to bed after a group game night--of which you had fallen asleep halfway through--but he didn’t think much of it then. He smoothed some hair back from your forehead and rested his lips there to better judge your temperature.

“Shit, doll. You’re burning up,” he murmured.

“It’s really hot in here.” Sleep was clawing at you but you were uncomfortable beyond belief. “I need to change my shirt.”

Bucky silently helped you out of the shirt you were wearing, throwing it in the hamper before shuffling over to the dresser to get you another one. He grabbed the first one he saw, making his way back over to where you were laying and helping you into it.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he said as he pressed his lips to your forehead once more. “I’ll be right here.”

The “Shut Up!” Kiss

The Quinjet was filled with chatter as the team headed back to the compound after a successful mission. You managed to get the intel you needed and nobody got hurt in the process--well, nobody except you, but no one needed to know that.

You managed to get yourself stabbed in the right bicep when you were making your way back to the jet. It wasn’t horribly severe, it just hurt like a bitch. You were quick to take care of the Hydra agent and keep moving, knowing the team was going to want to get back to the compound as quickly as possible to celebrate. Missions without some kind of injury were a rarity with you guys.

You just assumed that you’d wait until you got to the compound and stitch yourself up there without anyone knowing. Seemed easy enough of a plan, right?

“Hey, doll,” Bucky said as he sat down in the seat to your left with a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, babe.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, snuggling into the warmth radiating off of him.

“I’m so ready to get in bed.”

“You said it.”

You were able to block out the pain coming from your arm for a moment, allowing yourself to relax in your boyfriend’s presence instead. That was, until Bucky’s arm came up to wrap around your shoulders. You winced when his hand brushed over your wound, cursing internally when you felt him stiffen up next to you. Of course he was going to find out.  

He pulled his hand back, seeing it covered in red. “Is that blood?”

“Yes but that doesn’t matter right now. You know what does matter? Getting to bed cause you look-” You sat up, rubbing your hand over the wound yourself, finding that there was significantly more blood there now than there was earlier.

“You are literally bleeding right now!” He raised his voice slightly and you glared at him, not wanting to draw attention to the situation.

“I know but-”

“I love you but if you shut the fuck up right now, Y/N-”

“Buck-”

Bucky grabbed your face, quickly bringing your lips to his. “You are going to stop talking and let me take care of this, okay? No ifs, ands, or buts. I don’t wanna hear ‘em.” His voice was stern but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“Okay,” you sighed, dropping your eyes to your lap.

“Now let me see your arm so we can fix you up.”

The Top of the Head Kiss

“You don’t think it’s too soon, do you?” Bucky asked Steve as they sat in the kitchen. It was early on a Thursday morning, when everyone else was either asleep or doing an early morning workout. The two super soldiers had already finished their daily morning run and decided to enjoy a cup of coffee in the kitchen before the rest of the team showed up.

“Buck, I thought you were going to propose after the fifth date. You’ve been together for almost two years. I think it’s about time,” Steve answered with a chuckle, enjoying the bashful look on his best friend’s face.

“I just wanna do it right, you know?” Bucky bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the right way to propose for what was probably the thousandth time. “I know she doesn’t want something that’s so romantic it’s cheesy but I want it to be special.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Steve patted Bucky’s arm as he got up to put his mug in the sink. “You know she’s going to say ‘yes’ no matter what.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just scary trying to-”

“Morning boys.” Your groggy voice rang through the kitchen, causing Steve and Bucky to immediately shut up.

“You’re up early, sweetheart,” Bucky commented as you made your way over to him.

“Thought I’d be productive today.” You ran a hand through his hair, still unruly from his run, before placing your lips on top of his head. “Whatcha’ guys talking about?”

Steve and Bucky shared a panicked look. “Uhh . . . super secret boy band stuff.” Bucky’s hands made their way to your hips, fingers messing with the hem of your shirt.

“Ohh, okay. Let me just grab my breakfast and then I’ll let you plan your little boyband stuff.” You ruffled Bucky’s hair and busied yourself with making a bagel, winking at him before leaving the kitchen.

“You better hurry up,” Steve chuckled. “Cause she’s gonna figure out what you’re doing soon if you don’t.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled. “I’m working on it.”

The Passionate Kiss

“I’m so hungry!” you complained as you took your suit off, having just returned from a mission. You weren’t able to eat lunch earlier and your stomach was making sure you knew just how much it did not appreciate that.

“We stocked up the fridge yesterday so you should be good to go,” Bucky said from his place on the edge of the bed. His eyes stayed glued on you as you slipped on a pair of shorts and one of his Henleys.

You smiled brightly at his words and made your way over to him, giving a quick peck to his temple and grabbing his hand. “Care to join me?”

“Course, doll.” He stood up and followed you out of your shared room, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side as you walked to the kitchen. Everything was going according to plan.

The mission you just came back from? It was fake. You didn’t know that of course, but Bucky had Steve and Tony help him set it up so he could get ready for what he was planning on doing tonight without you either finding out or getting overly suspicious. What was he planning on doing, exactly? Proposing. He was finally going to propose tonight.

You and Steve were sent out on an undercover “mission” in which you had to pretend to be a couple in order to attend a ball and gather intel on a possible new Hydra branch. Bucky wasn’t quite sure how Tony managed to set the whole thing up, but he decided not to bother himself with the logistics. There were more important issues at hand.

He patted his pocket as you parted from his side to grab plates. Yup, the ring was still there.

“Why don’t I get the plates and you grab what you want from the fridge, sweetheart?” he suggested.

“Oh no, I got the plates. You grab whatever you think is good. I’ll eat whatever.” You took two plates out of the cabinet and made your way to the table, your back to the fridge.

This is going to be harder than he anticipated.

In his debate to decide the perfect way to propose to you, Bucky somehow came to the conclusion that the best way to ask you to be his future wife was by spelling out “Will you marry me?” on the refrigerator with a bunch of magnets. A picture of the two of you from when you first started dating was placed next to it with a heart magnet, and Bucky was pretty proud of himself for the idea. He forgot, of course, that you could be a little oblivious sometimes when it came to noticing things.

No need to stress about it. She’ll notice eventually.

Bucky grabbed some things from the fridge, microwaving a few before bringing them over to the table and sitting down in the seat next to yours. “Bon appetit!”

“¡Muchas gracias, señor!” You smiled, already dumping a few things onto your plate and digging in.

“That was a completely different language,” he chuckled.

“And?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Tell me ‘bout the mission.”

“It was alright,” you said through a mouthful of food. You swallowed before continuing. “I don’t know why they sent Steve with me instead of you. You’d think that since we had to pretend to be a married couple, they’d have me go with my boyfriend.” Damn, Tony really didn’t try to be that subtle, did he?

“Yeah, strange . . .”

“Anyways, it was pretty easy. I didn’t even have to go to a debriefing!” You put some more food on your plate, noticing that Bucky had barely touched his. “You okay? You’ve hardly eaten.” You motioned towards his plate.

“Hmm? Oh, I ate before you got home so I’m not that hungry.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. He ate, just not a lot to be considered a meal. Nerves.

“Uh huh.” You gave him a weird look as you took a bite of food. “You’re up to something.”

“Me? Up to something? Never.” He watched you finish your food and sit back with a satisfied groan.

“Okay, sure.” You gave him a playful glare as he took your plates and got up to put them in the sink. You grabbed the leftover food and containers, and put them in the sink, nudging Bucky’s hip with yours.

“You trying to start something, doll?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe I am.” You looked back at him, completely missing the colorful magnets on the fridge yet again as you opened it and put the food back inside. Your hand caught the ‘W’ when you tried to take your hand off of the refrigerator handle, causing it to fall off and clink on the ground.

“Ill you marry me?” you read off the fridge, a confused laugh escaping your mouth. “What?”

Bucky playfully shook his head. He walked over to you, picking up the fallen magnet and putting it back in its place. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you read the phrase again.

“Buck, are you being serious?” Your eyes lit up, though there was a hint of hesitance in your voice.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” He pulled the black velvet case out of his pocket, getting down to one knee.

Your hand slapped over your mouth, trying to contain the squeal of joy threatening to jump out. “Bucky!”

He flipped the lid open. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

You bit your lips together, nodding your head vigorously. “Yeah. I think I’ll marry you, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky stood up and you grabbed his face, crashing your lips onto his. It was messy but perfect for the moment. Your heart was beating a million times a minute but you paid it no mind as you tried to pull Bucky even closer.

“I love you,” you said once you pulled away for breath. Your eyes watered as you tried to keep tears from falling.

He leaned back in to slot his lips between yours again. “I love you too.”

The Relieved Kiss

Bucky wasn’t sure what exactly to expect when he rushed out with the team to find Captain Marvel lowering down a giant ship in front of the compound, but nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see.

He’d been a mess since Thanos snapped away half the universe. Unbeknownst to him, you were up in space when the battle happened, leaving him to assume that you had dusted away with the millions of others and left him behind to pick himself up.

While Bucky suffered in his own personal hell down on Earth, you were stranded in a broken spaceship with Tony and Nebula. Up until your rescue, you were sure that you were going to die up there, staring into the void of space. You recorded a message for Bucky after Tony recorded his for Pepper in hopes that it would someday make it back to him. Then Captain Marvel came to save you and bring you back to Earth; to bring you back home.

Bucky ran up with Steve to help Tony, supporting the man who looked like he’d been to hell and back a few times. He stepped aside once Pepper ran up, choking on his own breath when he looked back to the steps of the ship.

You held onto Nebula’s arm as you slowly stumbled down the stairs. Bucky let out a sob at the sight of you, immediately rushing up to help you. You felt so fragile in his arms and it took everything in him to not collapse to the ground in shock, not sure if it was relief that you were alive or horror at your condition

He held you to his chest as tightly as he could once you made it to solid ground, his vibranium arm holding you up by your waist while his flesh hand held your head to his chest.

“Oh my god,” was all he could say as he stood there, body shaking as he cried

“Hey, I’m okay.” Your hand shook as it came up to weakly pat his shoulder. He could tell you were completely out of it: eyes distant and mind barely there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone approaching, ready to help get you to med bay.

He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, gently rocking you back and forth in his arms. “You’re alive.”

You tried to pull back in his grip, forcing him to loosen it slightly. “I love you.” You leaned up to kiss his lips, though it ended up being more of a brush of your lips than an actual kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He kissed your hairline, scared that kissing your lips would steal more oxygen away--something you desperately needed more of in your system right now. “You’re gonna be okay.”

The “Holy Shit!” Kiss

You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep it a secret. You were sure he would’ve figured it out by now: the sticks in the trash, the sudden avoidance of certain foods you would usually never pass up, the second heartbeat that now accompanied your own.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to know--you had actually been trying for a baby for a while now--you just weren’t sure how to tell him. Is this how he felt before proposing?

The opening of your bedroom door interrupted your thoughts. You were met with the sight of your husband shrugging off his jacket when you turned around. He cut his hair recently. Something about it being “too hot for this shit.”

“Why are you wearing a jacket? It’s June,” you giggled.

“The air conditioning is fucking blasting and I got cold while I was doing my paper work, if you must know,” he said, laying the jacket on the chair you were standing next to. He left a quick kiss on your lips, leaving you craving for more.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m crazy? I think you have the wrong guy here, doll.”

“No, I don’t think I do.” Your hand caught his, tangling your fingers together. Should I just tell him now?

“You keep thinking that. Steve asked me to help train some agents here in a few minutes so I gotta go now.” Another quick kiss and a wink and he started making his way out the door.

“Wait, Buck!” He turned around, almost out the door. “I need to tell you something real quick.” You motioned for him to come back over.

He took a few steps forward, a confused look on his face as you grabbed both his hands in yours. He could hear your heart rate picking up, which only served to worry him.

“So, I was wondering if you would be free to go to the hospital about eight months from now?” You gave a small smile, hoping he’d catch on quickly. “I’m not sure what the exact date is going to be quite yet but I’d really appreciate it if you could be there.”

Bucky frowned. What business did you have at the hospital that you scheduled nine months ahead of time? “Babe, what are you talking about?”

“I think we’re going to need to find our own place too. We’ll need a lot more space.” He still wasn’t catching on. “I doubt having three people in here would be super pleasant.”

He frowned even more and you simply giggled, bringing his hands to your stomach. “I’m pregnant, Buck.”

“Ohh!” He let out a sigh of relief, glad that that was all you were worried about. “Had me worried for a second there, doll.”

It was your turn to frown. “What?”

“From the way you started, I was worried you were dying and this was some sadistic way of telling me.”

“Nope. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Was wondering when you were going to tell me.” His thumbs rubbed circles into your belly.

“You knew?!”

“I heard the heartbeat weeks ago. Took me a while to figure out what it was but I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”  

“Damn your supersoldier hearing.” You leaned your head on top of his shoulder, letting out a small groan.

“Holy shit though,” His voice was soft as he rested his chin on your head. “we’re having a baby!”

“Yeah,” You lifted your head up slowly to see the biggest grin on your husband’s face. “we’re having a baby.”

A hand came up to cup your cheeks as he leaned into your lips, kissing you deeply and trying not to cry. “Holy shit!”

---

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[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 26 - Blood On My Name [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, guns.

Word Count: 3000

Summary: No one can run away forever.

There were some days when you just knew it wouldn’t be easy for you, and today was one of them, that was for sure. It was as if after seeing how Spencer had managed to charm your family the other night and how everything was going well in your relationship, the universe had decided to throw in some difficulties to make it interesting.

For starters, you had forgotten to buy coffee the day before so you couldn’t even have your much needed caffeine. After managing to get rid of the sleepiness with a very cold shower and getting ready, you left your apartment to get to your car, and that was when the second problem hit.

It wouldn’t start no matter how much you tried, so you had to take a taxi to your office.

And as if all that wasn’t enough, Spencer had decided to call you with some bad news as well.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined, pressing the phone to your ear as you paced in your office, “Spencer, please tell me you’re not leaving me alone at a party I didn’t even want to go to in the first place!”

“Trust me, I don’t want to.”

“You have a case,” you felt the need to repeat, “Today of all days.”

“We’re flying there in ten.”

You heaved a sigh and plopped down to the couch, nibbling your lip.

“I’m really sorry,” he said softly, “I swear I’d be there if I could.”

You sook your head, “No, don’t be sorry,” you murmured, “I get that. It’s your job. Besides, it’s probably a life or death situation if they called you guys there.”

He hummed in agreement, “Probably,” he said “But are you going to be alright?”

“I mean I’ll probably drink a lot,” you tried to joke, “And miss you for the whole night.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he confessed, “They’re sending some agents to make sure the copycat doesn’t try anything at that party if they even show up, but… Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“When am I not careful?”

He scoffed a laugh, “Do you want a list? Because I think it’d be a long list.”

“I’m always careful!” you protested, “Also, given our occupations it’s kind of ironic to hear this from you, I’ll have you know.”

You could almost hear his smile, “Just promise me.”

“I’ll be very careful,” you said, “Cross my heart. Besides, it’s Nolan’s company, professor. No one can walk there with any weapon, it’s a security company remember? Even I am leaving my knife at home.”

“Just don’t go anywhere alone, be in the crowd for the whole time—”

“Make sure to stay where security cameras can see me, I know.” You finished his sentence for him, “It’s not my first rodeo. Relax boyfriend, it’s just one boring party. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Don’t say that,” he warned you, “Bad things happen when people say that.”

“I didn’t take you for a superstitious type, professor.”

“I’m not,” he said, “I just don’t want to take any chances. It’s already bad enough that I won’t be there.”

“You’re telling me,” you said, “I was hoping we could hook up somewhere in there, it’s a huge building.”

You heard his chuckle, “You’re incorrigible.”

“Well it’s always Mina and Kenzie who have fun in these things, for once I want to have fun too!” you defended yourself, “Besides, don’t pretend like you don’t like it.”

“Hey, I said nothing of the sort.”

“Reid, come on.” You heard Luke’s voice and Spencer sighed.

“I should go,” he told you, “I love you.”

A smile warmed your face, “I love you too,” you said, “Go save some lives.”

You hung up, then ran a hand over your face, slumping on the couch.

“Y/N?” your assistant knocked on the glass door of your office before peeking her head in, “Hi, are you busy?”

“Not really,” you sat up straighter, “What’s up?”

“You wanted me to remind you when it’s time for lunch,” she said, “Also I sent your dress for tonight to your place, the front desk will get it.”

“Thanks,” you checked the time and stood up to walk to your desk, “Damn it, I’m going to be late.”

“I also called the mechanics, but they said it would take two days for it to be fixed.”

“Today just gets better and better,” you muttered and she tilted her head,

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Hm?” you looked up, “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine, it’s just one of those days. Since the morning everything is going bad, and I was hoping my boyfriend would be with me at this party, but he had something to do so…”

“Maybe he can change his mind?” she suggested, “See, I had this boyfriend once, and he said he wouldn’t show up to my birthday party because we had this huge fight, but then he showed up anyway.”

“Oh it’s not like that,” you shook your head, “There’s no fight, he’s just not gonna be in the city tonight.”

She scrunched up her nose, “That sucks.”

You scoffed a laugh and grabbed your coat and your purse, “It’s fine. Where are we on the Riley wedding flower arrangement by the way?”

“All confirmed, she says she loved it,” she said and you smiled.

“Thanks,” you said as you walked to the elevator with her following you, “I’ll be back in an hour, okay? Have a nice lunch.”  

                                                        ***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lincoln said as you sipped your rosé, looking around the restaurant you two were having lunch in, “How did you even break down your car?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“When was the last time you took it to a mechanic to get it checked out?”

“When I bought it?” you said and he let out a chuckle.

“So you have no car for tonight?”

You pulled your brows together, “Tonight? How did you-?”

“You know we run in the same social circle right?” he said, “My dad’s company also does business with Nolan, of course I’m invited. That being said, I wasn’t sure if I would show up, but since here you are, begging me to help you—“

“I’m just eating my food here.”

“I can drive you there,” he finished his sentence as if you didn’t interrupt him and you tilted your head.

“I can just take a cab,” you said, “Or mom could send a car, it’s fine. You don’t have to.”

“Consider it my thanks for your unrequited advices on my relationship.”

“Oh you need more advice?” you perked up and he rolled his eyes.

“No.”

“You made up with your girlfriend then?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You really need to go to Italy for a surprise visit,” you pointed at him with your fork “That’d be incredibly romantic.”

“Is that right, love doctor?”

Your jaw dropped, “Come on, when have I ever failed you with my advice?” you asked, “If you love this girl, you need to show her that.”

“I’m just gonna play it cool.”

“That’s a terrible idea!” you said, “I know you’re not the romantic type, but you need to at least make an effort!”

He shot you a look “I’m a romantic.”

“Bullshit,” you let out a laugh, “You might be the most emotionally distant person I’ve seen after me, and you’re telling me you’re—“

“I believe that some people are meant to be,” he cut you off, “No matter the circumstances. Consequences be damned, anyone who thinks otherwise doesn’t deserve to be in love. I think if you’re in love, you should adore that person every day, and be there for them for better or worse. Whatever sacrifice it takes.”

You blinked a couple of times, shock coming over you, “Linc…”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the woman I love,” he told you, “Trust me. Nothing at all.”

You just gawked at him for a few seconds before you put your fork down.

“I stand corrected,” you muttered, and he grinned at you.

“Yeah, how does it feel to be wrong?”

“Oh shut up,” you said and stabbed your salad once more, ignoring his laugh.

By the time your lunch with Lincoln was over and you got back to your office, your fingers were itching to text Spencer. Reminding yourself that he was probably busy, you managed to suppress the urge and waited for the elevator doors to open.

Erica was already waiting for you by the door and you let out a whine.

“Don’t tell me,” you said, “You have bad news because today has a grudge with me.”

“I mean it’s not bad, but I figured you’d want to know.”

“Give me some good news, like you saw a puppy today or they named a whiskey after me or—“

“Your mother is waiting for you in your office.”

“I said good news, Erica.” you reminded her and made your way to your office before you opened the glass door to step inside. Your mother looked over her shoulder, sitting up straighter on the couch.

“Hi honey.”

“Hi mom,” you walked to peck her on the cheek, “What’s up? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need help,” she said and you hung your coat, placed your purse on the coffee table, motioning at one of the interns for coffee before you leaned back to the table.

“Sure thing, what is it?”

“How do my nails look?” she held up her hand and you pulled your brows together.

“That’s what you need help with?” you asked “You do realize that this is why we have phones?”

“No, I wanted to talk face to face for my next question.”

“Ah, I won’t like that question will I?” you hissed in a breath, “Your nails are fine by the way.”

“It’s just that, I don’t know when Nolan will propose so I booked my nail artist for a month.”

“I want to have your problems,” you muttered as your phone buzzed and you checked the screen, then touched the text message.

From: Spencer

The power of Love borne in my lady's eyes

imparts its grace to all she looks upon.

You couldn’t help the wide smile pulling at your lips as you skimmed Dante’s lines, then thought for a moment and typed in:

See that you bless the day that I took you captive; it is your duty to do so.

“Y/N!”

You lifted your head, “Hm?”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you lowered the phone as the intern brought you two cups of coffee. You thanked her, then turned to your mother, “It’s just… Spencer is out of the city again, that’s why— never mind. What did you want to ask me?”

“I think I have an idea about Nolan’s proposal and this…potential marriage.”

You cleared your throat, “Uh, sorry. My client list is full.”

“Nobody buys that excuse honey.”

“I mean can you blame me?” you asked, “You would be the worst bride I’ve ever had to deal with, no offense.”

“First of all, I’ll just have a cocktail, not a wedding,” she said, “It would be inappropriate to have a wedding, considering our ages.”

“Mom!” you protested, “That’s not a thing! Anyone can have a wedding, fuck what society thinks.”

“Very delicately put, but I’ve made up my mind,” she said, “That’s not what I came here for. I decided, I want to be with Nolan and spend the rest of my life with him. So I will say yes when he proposes.”

“A surprise to no one,” you grinned and she shot you a look.

“But considering what people would think, I feel like I need to make a schedule. Do you happen to know when Spencer will propose?”

The coffee you were drinking went down the wrong tube and you started coughing, but your mother sipped her own coffee, patiently waiting for you to stop.

“Say- say what now?” you asked and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Yes, I was thinking I could stay engaged to Nolan until after your future wedding.”

“Mom we’re not— I’m—“ you stammered, “That’s not happening.”

She tilted her head, “Oh don’t be nonsense, you’re in love. Very obvious to anyone who has eyes, he couldn’t stop looking at you throughout dinner the other night.”

“Yeah but….” you cleared your throat, “I don’t think he’s planning anything like that.”

“Well—“

“I’m not going to ask him if he’s planning anything like that,” you cut her off, “I don’t live in Victorian ages, neither do you. I told you, you can get married to the eccentric billionaire puppy with a bowtie whenever you want.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “Unbelievable.”

“Right back at you lady.”

“If Nolan lets you know about when, you will tell me okay?”

“I doubt he’ll let me know, he looks like he’s got it covered.”

“And you’re still planning my cocktail party when the time comes.”

“Mom, no!” you let out a whine, throwing your head back, “Please don’t do that to me. I’m your daughter, you’re supposed to love me!”

“I do love you, that’s why I don’t trust anyone else with my wedding except for you.”

“Don’t trust me,” you said, “I’m begging you not to trust me. Planning Mina’s wedding was bad enough, you’re even a bigger control freak than she is—“

“Y/N.”

“I say that respectfully!”

She put her cup of coffee on the glass table, then stood up.

“Just remember, I absolutely hate carnation flowers and polyester gives me a rash.”

“Why does God hate me?” you wondered out loud and she kissed you on the cheek.

“I’ll see you tonight honey,” she said and walked out of your office, ignoring your overly dramatic whining. You buried your face into your palms, letting out a groan.

“I really should’ve drunk something heavier than rosé.”

                                                         ***

You had picked this dress thinking Spencer would like it, and now that he wouldn’t be there with you, you were two seconds away from changing it. You heaved a sigh, looking in the mirror before you fixed the tulle floor length skirt of the pale pink dress and pulled at the long sleeves adorned with lace. The small screen by the door lit up as it started ringing and you walked there to touch it, then told the doorman that he could send Lincoln upstairs when he told you he was there.  

Soon enough, the doorbell rang and you opened it.

“Hey,” you said, grinning when he did a double take and blinked a couple of times.

“Wow.”

“Bad wow?”

“Good wow.”

“Why thanks Linc, you clean up well too. Come in!” you stepped aside so that he could enter the apartment and he looked around as you closed the door.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks,” you said and checked the time before you went to the kitchen island. “You’re early.”

“And you started early,” he nodded at the wine glass on the kitchen island, making you shrug.

“I just have one e-mail to check for confirmation, then we can go.”

“No rush,” he said, leaning back to the wall as you looked at the photos of the wedding venue for your newest client, swirling the wine in your glass.

“You want some?”

“Nah, not yet,” he said, “Work stuff?”

“Mm hm,” you mumbled, “She describes the venue she wants as boho-glam so it’s going to be pretty tough for me to find a lot of options.”

“Your job is definitely more fun than mine.”

“My job is harder than yours,” you pointed at him and he scoffed.

“How is that?”

“Have you ever dealt with an angry bride?” you asked him, “You wouldn’t last a goddamn second. Just the other day, one of them tried to make me give her a list of her wedding dress options too, the one thing I’m not responsible from.”

“I mean can you blame her?” Lincoln asked, “You obviously have a good taste, look at yourself.”

“Aw thanks Linc,” you hit send, and closed down the laptop lid before you reached for your wine glass to take a sip, taking a step towards the coffee table.

“Yeah I’ll almost feel sorry for Spencer for missing it.”

It took you a second. For a second, it was all good and then you stopped dead on your tracks, a shudder running down your spine as your brain comprehended what he just told you. You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms as you put the glass down, your back still turned to him.

“I never told you I was dating Spencer,” you managed to mumble through frozen lips and he chuckled.

“No you didn’t,” he said, “Erica told me. Family dinner with Spencer, it was on your schedule the other night.”

Your thoughts were like a tornado in your head as your heart started slamming against your ribcage and you turned to him, your eyes finding potential weapons you could use all around the room instantly and he tilted his head.

“So I know that there are about fifty things in this room you can attack me with,” he said, “But just so you know, if you try anything, your niece goes down. You don’t want your precious Lily to have an accident, do you? Because I don’t either.”

That red haze clouded your vision for a moment as your jaw clenched.

“I’m going to kill you,” your voice didn’t even sound like it belonged to you anymore, it was way too cold, way too calm, the shock leaving its place to fury roaring through your veins. A manic smile pulled at Lincoln’s lips and that dangerous gleam which you had seen multiple times in your father’s eyes appeared in his eyes as well before he took a step towards you.

“I missed your fire,” he said as if he was in awe, “So much. It’s been a torture to keep my distance from you. But honestly, Petal,” he tut-tutted, then reached behind him and pulled out his gun to point it at you.

“You should’ve known better.”

Chapter 27 

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Capriccio (Chapter 4)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow whose ask box is always open for questions, comments, and anything else about this story as well!

Catching the small flames of romance, starting to get turned on higher. They have a tour to do, right? Not spend all their time making goo-goo eyes at each other.....unless?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 8274

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fedorable-killjoys

***

"Thomas," Y/n stared down as he entered the bus. "When I gave you my personal number it was meant for emergencies, not you texting me because you forgot what "sempiternal" means in the middle of the night. What were you reading anyway?!"

"Nothing." Thomas looked up at her from where he was sitting, wide eyes, feigning innocence.

Y/n shook her head, not believing the guitarist and his horrible poker face, but not being bothered enough to question him any further either. “Well, next time you have a question like that in the middle of the night, ask google instead.” She gave him a warm smile and a little pat on the head as she passed him by, moving down the hallway of the tour bus.

It had become a routine for her to stop at the stove first, starting the coffee for everyone, then having a look around as she was waiting for it to boil. Damiano was slumped over on a couch, his head in his hand and still half asleep. She wondered how little rest he had gotten last night, after meeting him out on the balcony at 2 am.

Had he stayed awake for hours, like she had? Had he been thinking about her, the way she had been thinking about him? He had flirted quite heavily last night and she wasn’t sure whether to attribute it to his sleepiness, or if he had meant it at all. She wasn’t quite sure what she was hoping for either. He was insanely attractive, and the attention he gave her made her heart beat in ways no other man had managed to do before. But this wasn’t the time or situation to turn into a bundle of nerves because of a boy.

Even if her brain had decided to play fantasies of him storming into her hotel room last night. Demanding to kiss her. Holding her face in his hands. Looking at her with those dark, hazel eyes, like she was the only person in the world. Probably smelling of sleep and cigarettes and all that made him inherently Damiano. She knew the smell well, it had been haunting her all throughout this whole fucking tour. But the fantasies kept coming, imagining him in love with her, even if she never truly believed in it. It was a nice idea, nothing more.

The sharp hiss of the coffee pot pulled her out of his thoughts and woke up Damiano from his half-slumber. Tired eyes trying to make out the source of the noise, smiling slightly when realising that caffeine was coming his way. Y/n quickly moved to get his cup ready, preparing it the way she had already learned he preferred. He readily held out his hand for the beverage, fingers briefly touching. She almost dropped it as sparks ran through her. She wasn’t sure if he had felt the same or simply hid it better. But as soon as the cup was safely in his hands, she turned back around. Back to the stove to take a deep breath and continue her morning routine.

I need to get over myself. This is a job. Getting fluttery over your boss is not gonna help get the job done. Ignore him. He didn’t feel anything. You need to work. Not imagine something that is never gonna happen. It's not gonna happen, Y/n.

She made quick work depositing the other mugs to Victoria and Thomas, before finding Ethan in the very back of the bus. Drum sticks in hands and absentmindedly tapping a beat on the table in front of him.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, thank you,” he answered, absentmindedly. “Hey, Y/n, does this sound good to you?”

Ethan started to play out a beat, effectively ignoring the cup that had been placed on the table, as she sat down beside him to listen.

“I’m no musician, but it certainly sounds good to my ears!”

Ethan gave her a proud smile, putting his drumsticks to the side for a second to take a sip from his drink. Y/n, grabbed them immediately, beating randomly on the table.

“You know what? I may have to take you up on your offer of teaching me to play. Love how you guys always have stuff around, you’re just constantly thinking about music. I wish I knew how to play," she sighed.

“I can show you a bit of drumming right now, if you’d like?” He offered. “Just a bit of a rhythm on the table right here.”

He moved closer to her, taking her hands in his as she kept holding onto the sticks and tried to get her to play a little, easy beat, but the angle was awkward and her wrist was bent too much to properly tap along.

“Okay, this isn’t working,” he laughed. “Would you mind, um, moving between my legs?”

Y/n could feel another blush coming on. It may be just Ethan, but it IS Ethan and Ethan sure is pretty. She studied his face, unassuming, nothing but a welcoming smile. But she felt odd. She had only been working for this band for a few days, yet she’d already grown closer to them than any other client she had worked with before. Normally she’d do her job, get a quick thank you on the way out, and then just retire somewhere. Do uni work, wait for further instructions. This whole thing was new and as much as she was enjoying it, she wasn’t sure if she was crossing lines she shouldn’t as a personal assistant. Then again, what was the harm in a little lesson? It wasn’t like there was anything else to it. This wasn’t him trying to flirt with her, this was him trying to be a friend. She could do with a friend.

With a quick nod, she moved and sat down on the floor in front of Ethan. Nestling between his legs as he held her hand. Helping her get into position before backing up a little to give her more space. Grabbing her hands again with the sticks to demonstrate how she was supposed to hold and then hit the table. He leaned over her to watch what she was doing. She understood quickly, getting the hang of it and before she knew it Ethan had let go of her hands as she was successfully keeping the rhythm going.

“See? Natural talent,” he laughed behind her.

Neither of them had noticed Damiano walk down the corridor towards them until he stopped in the doorway.

“Ah, Dami! Look what Ethan taught me!” Y/n starts repeating the little rhythm with the biggest smile on her face, proud of herself and what she’d learned in such a short time. Ethan leant back, watching her with a smile.

“Good job, Y/n. Keep going and you might replace Edgar soon,” Damiano said, ducking into the bathroom with a laugh.

Y/n watched him disappear. Her heart fluttered as he left her sight. If he could just not be my boss, that’d be fucking great…

She stood back up to sit next to Ethan on the couch, shaking the thought off. “I see why you like drumming, it’s fun.”

“Thank you, I think so too. You enjoy being our assistant, by the way?” Ethan asked, looking at her inquisitively while finally continuing to drink his coffee.

“Actually, yes. Best job I have ever taken. I know your manager is an absolutely wonderful woman. Didn’t know she planned this position for me originally though, kinda scared me to be honest.”

“Are we scary?”

“No, no. You’re all lovely. You are the biggest group I’ve worked for so far, so there’s that. But…” Y/n moved to sit on her leg now, leaning closer to Ethan, starting to feel more comfortable around him. “You four are indescribably amazing people. My mum would probably call you ‘people after God’s heart’,” she imitated her mother’s Northern accent, making Ethan laugh.

“Shocking, I know, that we’re normal!”

Y/n smacked his chest.

“No! You are far better than anyone- no one on this bus is ‘normal’.”

“Even the driver?”

“Especially the driver.”

***

Damiano hadn’t meant to listen in, but standing behind the slightly closed door of the restroom, he couldn’t help himself, even if it was killing him. Ethan and Y/n would probably be really good for each other… The thought flashed through him. No. It wouldn’t happen. Not under his watch.

Last night had been a blessing and a curse. After finishing his smoke, he had stood out on the balcony for a little longer, imagining the conversations they would have been having if she had stayed out with him. Under the moonlight. Måneskin. Her hair down, she would probably go get another glass of wine. Coming back out to see him.

“What about you, amore mio? Working on more Shakespeare?”

“Yes. Always. I work hard for things I want, you know me. All work no play makes Y/n a happy girl,” she would snicker into her wine glass.

“What if I wanted you. What would I have to do? Never been shy about ... hard… work, either…”

“Why don’t you come and find out, the door is unlocked…”

With a heavy sigh, he moved to the sink to splash some water on his face, raking it through his hair. It was only early in the morning, he didn’t need to unscrew his head just yet. She was just a girl. Just some girl that worked for them. There were so many people on the team, she was simply one of them. But she was also a woman, with wants and needs and desires, and oh, how he would love to attend to every single one of them… Maybe I could be a need for her, for the beautiful woman just one room over. He screamed internally. He was done for.

***

By the time Y/n left Ethan to his coffee, Damiano was back on the couch with a pen and paper, gears visibly turning in his head. He didn’t even look up when she entered. See, just a guy, Y/n thought. Victoria was busy bickering with the driver about wanting to stop at a service station within the next hour. Thomas was scrolling through his phone absent-mindedly.

As soon as Vic had finished her conversation, she walked over to where Y/n was sitting, letting herself drop onto the seat next to her heavily, laying her head on her shoulder. “Y/n I want snacks.”

“I bought snacks, they’re in the cupboard.”

“But, fun snacks! Like you,” the bassist winked.

“As much as I love the compliment, Victoria, I am sure the driver will take us to the next petrol station after hearing your plea.” She kissed the top of the blonde’s head. “You can survive a little longer without sugary snacks.”

Victoria looked up at her with big blue eyes, wrapping her arms around the assistant. “But what if I can’t, Y/n,” she whined, pulling a dramatic pose. “What if I waste away without fun snacks.”

“Vic, love, nothing here will make you die because you haven’t had food. I provided all of you with breakfast - it was your decision to let Thomas eat yours.”

“And I don’t regret a thing!” Thomas shouted from his seat, all three of them breaking out into laughter. Y/n grinned, eyes falling back onto some of the papers in front of her, ready to get back into work. Victoria’s arm looped around Y/n’s as she snuggled into her shoulder with a pitiful sigh.

***

Goddamnit, not her, too.

Damiano had meant to start writing some more, lyrics and words and images flowing through his head in a chaos that needed to be tamed by pen and paper. But as soon as he had sat down Victoria had started moaning about snacks and her little interaction with Y/n had taken up all of the brain space the lyrics should have. His eyes kept focusing on the closeness between the two of them. The way Vic leant her head on Y/n’s shoulder, the way she in turn kissed the bassist’s head. So far he had only considered Ethan to be a concern. But now the thought of Victoria herself meddling was increasingly growing. So she might have had a boyfriend but that had been, what? Years ago? She had said? And the guy had been a dick. What if she’d just given up on men completely, deciding to exclusively date girls from now on? Fuck.

Staring at the way Victoria was now cuddling her, his thoughts ran wild. Was this still friendly? Was the smile she was giving Vic flirty? Maybe she hadn’t been returning his flirtations the way he’d been hoping because it was Vic she was interested in, not him?

Dwelling on these thoughts wasn’t going to help. Jealousy, envy, insecurity… as interesting as they would be as drag names, they weren’t going to solve the issue. Damiano felt stuck. Making heart eyes at a girl who was three feet away while she was none the wiser. Yet it was Victoria latching onto her arm. He wasn’t surprised. She was gorgeous, and funny, and cared about people. And Vic had a lot of good qualities he himself didn’t possess. Maybe it’s the boobs? His brain mused, but he shook it off. That wasn’t it, he was sure of it.

***

Victoria studies Damiano. His face would have been unreadable to anyone else, obviously lost in his thought. But she knew him well enough to understand that the look on his face was one of insecurity and upset. Not necessarily at anything in particular, just upset. Her eyes softened. Raising a brow at the singer. He simply shrugged, shaking his head, then taking the notebook he was carrying everywhere. Opening it up, staring at the words written there, but not adding anything. Yet his eyes never stopped flicking away to everyone else around him, obviously restless. What was up with him? If there was one thing Victoria hated it was one of her friends feeling off and her not being able to do anything about it. But she knew Damiano, and she knew it could be hard to get him to budge if he didn’t want to talk.

As their eyes met once more, she took the chance to mouth at him, “You alright?”

His eyes flashed at Y/n for a split second, he probably hadn’t even noticed it himself, before nodding with a tight-lipped smile, then looking back down at his pages. That was when it finally clicked in Victoria’s mind. It was about her. And from the looks he kept secretly giving her, the problem wasn’t dislike.

***

“SNACKS!” Victoria and Thomas all but yelled as the bus pulled into the parking lot of a little petrol station. The band ran out of the bus, stumbling over each other like a hoard of kindergartners, and Y/n couldn’t help but smirk at their behaviour. Following them in a much more composed manner.

By the time she entered the shop, all four members of the band had dispersed into different corners. Trying to figure out what to buy. Damiano was holding up two chocolate bars, obviously trying to decipher what the difference was with no knowledge of Swedish whatsoever, before shrugging his shoulders and taking both.

Y/n was still in the doorway, grabbing a basket and consulting a little list on her phone. As much as she loved to let them run wild, she would not completely have them overdose on sugar. No matter how much they wanted to. She still felt responsible for their wellbeing, even on their days off. Juice felt like a sensible choice.

Suddenly, she saw a hand appear from behind her, casually taking out some orange juice from her basket. She turned around in surprise, only to be faced with Thomas looking at her with wide eyes, obviously feeling caught.

“No healthy stuff from the petrol station!” He suddenly shouted, grabbing her whole basket now and running away with it.

“Thomas!” She flew after him before she knew what she was doing, almost running over Ethan as she chased the guitarist through the little store. With not much space available, they ended up going round and round one of the shelves, until Thomas unceremoniously crashed into a cooler when he didn’t manage to take a turn in time. Trying to bite back a smile, Y/n walked over, breathlessly asking him if he was alright, as laughter still bubbled out of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Victoria, giggling away, phone pointed towards them.

“Oh no, you’re not putting that on the internet!” Y/n pointed a finger at her in what she hoped was an authoritative gesture, but Victoria wasn’t impressed.

“Too late!” She squealed as she skipped away, out of reach, to pay for whatever she had picked out.

Thomas had gotten back up on his feet in the meantime, contents of the basket still spilled all around him, sporting a pout.

“Stop it with that face,” Y/n scolded, but she couldn’t keep the smile at bay. “Go pick out your favourite snack, you can add it to my basket.”

Thomas happily skipped away as Y/n quickly picked up the mess, then moved to another aisle finding Damiano there. He seemed to be debating over the crisps now, having moved on from the chocolate bars.

She stood to the side, her eyes flashing over him a couple more times than necessary. He was just too pretty. It was simply impossible to look away. Even now, no fancy clothes, no stage makeup, no grand performance, he was mesmerising.

Her brain couldn’t help itself, images and ideas flashing in front of her eyes. Going to a petrol station on road trips with their future kids. Them bouncing around, chasing each other over a candy bar. Her and Damiano trying to get them not to cause a mess, slightly annoyed, but always laughing along with them.

She looked at him again. In a blink, the daydream changed.

It’s past midnight. He’s in the same sweatshirt he’s wearing right now. Her arms wrapped around his torso. Looking up at that beautiful face of his. Him picking up condoms from the health section. Winking at her with that certain glint in his eyes. Smacking her arse on the way to the cashier. Filled with giggles and flirtatious glances and knowing what the night ahead would entail. The anticipation crackling around them.

Oh, to be that girl. The girl he looks at with lustful eyes. The one he wasn't to make a baby with. Not the one to be ashamed of.

***

Damiano had chosen what kind of crisps to buy long ago. He simply was too busy staring back at Y/n, who seemed to be lost in thought. Eyes focused on him, yet apparently not noticing him looking back. He could basically see the gears in her head turning, mouth slightly open, far away in her mind.

Whatever enraptured that beautiful mind of hers… He wanted to know - could he be that very thing someday? Be so involved in her thoughts that it caused her to finally slow down? Get her to relax. He kept daydreaming about the massage he had given her the other day. How she had melted into his touch. He wanted that again. But more. He wanted her sighs and her moans as he worked her body in any way she would let him. Hell, he’d be her personal roadie if she wanted.

Fuck, he was smitten. She was always so strong-willed, so passionate. That night on the balcony had done nothing to help his fantasies. Her teaching him how to dance? Bodies close to each other, breathing the same air… Whatever perfume she used, he wanted to drown in it.

***

Victoria had been on the way back out, snacks acquired, Instagram story uploaded, and ready to head back to the bus for the last two hours of the ride. However, she stopped dead in her tracks when Y/n and Damiano caught her eye. Both of them were staring at the other, yet neither seemed to realise it. Just lost in their own worlds. Vic frowned, not oblivious to the dreamy look on Y/n’s face or the way Damiano’s eyes kept flicking up and down their assistant’s body. Something was definitely going on here and she was determined to find out what exactly it was.

After Y/n had finally moved again, paying for the snacks, Victoria caught up with her outside the shop. Their driver was having a smoke, surely had more than enough time left for a little talk.

“Y/n, wait up,” Vic quickly jogged up to her, taking the shopping bag out of her hand and carrying it into the bus ahead of her.. “Let me help you.”

She was counting on the guys to be staying outside for a little longer, probably lighting up a cigarette each as soon as they were done snack-shopping.

“So…” She started, putting away the snacks alongside Y/n. “Saw you staring at Damiano in there.”

Great, this wasn’t subtle at all, she scowled at herself. Tact had never been her strong suit in these situations. She was far more likely to rush into a conversation, head first, too open, too honest, too soon.

“I- uh- I don’t know what you mean. I was probably just staring off into space.”

Okay, she was getting flustered. Victoria knew she was onto something here, but it wouldn’t be easy to get anything out of Y/n. She was way too professional and… uptight for that. And they didn’t exactly have any red wine on tap to get her to open up.

“You know, there’s no harm in it. He’s a very attractive man,” she said, playfully nudging Y/n’s side. “Pretty sure everyone’s had the hots for him at some point.”

“Well I haven’t, it's very unprofessional.” Y/n stubbornly replied and Victoria almost laughed out loud.

Sure, she hadn’t. That’s why she was staring at him like he was a drink of water in the middle of a desert. Or why she was getting all flustered every time he touched her. Or why she always seemed to gravitate towards him, whatever she was doing. But that wasn’t what Vic was going to say. It wouldn’t get them anywhere. She had learned that much about Y/n.

“All my friends used to have a crush on him in school,” Vic laughed, remembering their beginnings. “They’d just hang out whenever we were rehearsing, making heart eyes at him and complimenting his every move, but he never cared. He never even looked at them, just giving them a polite hello. Never paid them any attention because he was way too focused on the music we were making. He’s always been like that. Music has always come first. It’s why I think it’s so peculiar how interested he is in you.”

If Y/n had been flustered before, she was full-on blushing now, rapidly opening a random cabinet to hide her face, but Victoria had seen. Her eyes got wide, as if she had been struck by lightning.

“He’s not interested in me, don’t be silly. I work for him just as I work for you and we all get along. Nothing is going to happen if that is what you are worried about. I would never jeopardize the tour or our friendship. He doesn’t even see me like that, anyway, so it’s fine. It’s not like I’m his type, and like, I mean-”

“Hey,” Victoria turned more serious now. As much as she enjoyed teasing her new friend, she felt like she needed to let her know that she wasn’t kidding in this case. She put a tentative hand on her shoulder. Having the other turn around to have Y/n face her. “I’m serious though. I know it’s early days, but if you feel something for him? I’m not going to stop you. Neither is anyone else on this tour. He’s a great guy. And I’ll personally punch him if he isn’t. And I think you’re great Y/n. You deserve good things.”

For a second, Victoria could see a flicker of Y/n’s softer side, of her vulnerability. She felt compelled to pull her into a hug, but she feared making her uncomfortable, so instead, she simply pretended she hadn’t seen. Just like she pretended not to hear Y/n’s voice breaking just the tiniest bit when she said, “Thank you.”

***

The old town of Malmö was full of cobblestone, canals, and adorable old houses. When Y/n led them into the restaurant she had reserved for the evening, Damiano made sure to ask for a table by the window, enamoured by what looked to be the main square of the town and the people hurrying along. As he turned back towards the table, he noticed Y/n with a similar look on her face. Chin held up by her hand as she leaned on the table, watching the world pass by outside. A serene smile played on her face and he feared he was mirroring her expression when Victoria kicked his foot from under the table. Giving him a knowing smile and a raised brow. He shook his head, quickly grasping the menu to distract himself.

“Oooh happy hour!” Victoria squealed. “First round of cocktails is on me!”

Damiano almost let out a sigh - knowing fully well that when it came to an evening like this, they would not stop at a round or two. He was to be proven right.

About two hours later, the sun was on the verge of setting. There was a nice buzz going on, dinner eaten, while the drinks kept coming. Thomas was retelling a story Damiano had heard about a hundred times. Excitedly waving his hands around he only just managed to grasp one of the glasses before the guitarist knocked it over. Y/n was listening attentively - the only one out of the bunch to not have heard Thomas’ retelling before. Damiano couldn’t help but notice how her cheeks were slightly flushed, a sure sign that she’d had a drink. He thought she looked adorable. She’d look just as adorable under me. He quickly put the thought away, blaming it on the alcohol he had consumed. Apart from Y/n - who had been responsible enough to switch back and forth between cocktails and water - they were all on the edge of being drunk, laughing too loudly, talking too excitedly, being a little too affectionate.

It’s what he blamed his behaviour on, when he found his foot searching for hers under the table. Giving her just the slightest, playful kick to get her attention. She looked at him immediately, raised eyebrows, obviously wondering if he had touched her by mistake. So this time, he fully smirked, holding eye contact, as he nudged her again. A timid smile appeared on her face and he was convinced that she would be awkward. Pulling back, possibly scolding him any other time. But her slightly intoxicated state seemed to leave her more open to his teasing. He barely believed it when she nudged him back. Maybe we’re actually getting somewhere here.

“Um, excuse me?”

The whole table looked up at once at the timid voice. Only to find two young girls awkwardly and uncomfortable standing next to them, faces as red as tomatoes and eyes wide.

“Are you Måneskin?”

“We are, actually!” Victoria beamed, immediately getting up. “Do you guys want some pictures?”

The girls didn’t seem to manage anything but hectic nods, too excited and overwhelmed. Damiano smiled. It didn’t matter how big they were getting - having people coming up to them to ask for photos, so obviously in love with them. Still made his heart beat like crazy. He’d do anything for the fans.

Quickly, getting up from his chair as well, he pulled the other two along with him, taking a few photos with the two, exchanging some words and thanking them for their support. Looking back at Y/n, he noticed she was getting a bit nervous.

“Guys, we should probably move back to the hotel now,” she said and it was only then that he took a look around and saw the amount of people staring. Talking and pointing phones at them. It was obvious none of them were actual fans - just hoping to get a glimpse of something to put on their social media. Damiano nodded, rounding up the rest of his band and leading them out of the restaurant, ready to call for a taxi as Y/n went to settle the tab and then followed them outside mere seconds later.

“Right let’s get you back to the hotel,” Y/n decided as they finally managed to flag down a taxi. “But don’t worry, the night’s not over yet - bring your swimsuits, I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

***

Y/n was perched on a little tiled bench, laptop with work opened at her side. A bluetooth speaker ready nearby. She’d slipped the girl at the reception a little money and a signed picture of the band, which she had gratefully taken, to make sure they’d have the hotel pool to themselves that night. Y/n was aware that the band tended to really enjoy a nice dip in the water and she was determined she’d get them to let loose and relax a bit before more gigs were coming their way.

She didn’t notice that everyone had arrived until a flash of blond ran past her and jumped into a pool with a massive splash. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Thomas would announce his presence like this. She still flinched for a second. Ethan followed not much later, with Victoria opting for the stairs ‘for hair-related reasons’ and Damiano pushing her in anyways. Following swiftly himself, as she grabbed his hand as she was falling. Y/n shook her head, amused at the four, and turned on some music as she watched them.

She couldn’t help but smile at the way they all acted like little kids on a pool day. But behaviour was one thing - the way they looked was quite another. Water was running down their bodies… okay, one body in particular. She would be lying if she said that Damiano swimming around in nothing but his little shorts wasn’t… well, breathtaking. Tattoos on full display, hair wet, glistening skin. He was smiling, laughing, trying to outswim Thomas. The way his physique moved through the water… He was in formidable shape. What she would give to be manhandled by this man.

Him pinning her to a wall, smirking, looking down at her like he was going to eat her. He rightfully just might. Telling her all the dirty thoughts he had when on stage. Making her look away in a blush, but grabbing her face. Tsk-ing, ‘no, no, no, good girls look at who is speaking to them’.

But no. Work called her name, just loudly enough to pull her out of her fantasy.

***

Opening the laptop, she immediately seemed to get immersed in her work. Damiano watched her with a frown on his face. This was so like her - making sure everyone else got taken care of and was having a good time, only to withdraw and bury her in her work again. He wished she’d take more breaks to just enjoy.

Every now and then she looked away from the screen, watching what everyone else was doing and contently smiling to herself. He couldn’t help imagining her watching over him the same way with their kids. His head was running away with the idea.

Him splashing around with the children. Her watching over them, staying on the sidelines, smiling the way she was now. Making sure everyone was safe and happy. Snacks in hand. Their daughter climbing out of the water, running over to her. The way her eyes would light up, arms open wide, not caring about getting wet as she hugged her. He knew she’d be the most perfect mum, just from looking at her. Nothing had ever been as obvious to him.

A splash of water over his head pulled him out of his thoughts. Apparently, Ethan had caught him staring. He shrugged it off.

“Y/n! Come swim with us!” Victoria called, moving to the edge of the pool. The assistant did nothing but raise a brow at the request, shaking her head.

“You kids go have fun,” she laughed. “I’m fine here, doing a bit of work. Just because you got a day off, doesn’t mean I do too!”

“Ah, you’re no fun, Y/n. One night won’t kill you,” Thomas groaned, diving back under the water.

“Well, I didn’t even bring my swimsuit, so it’s out of the question anyway. Now let me do some work.” She tried to sound strict but the giggle bubbled in her voice anyway, still tiny traces of intoxication in her speech. Damiano grinned at the thought of her still being tipsy, slightly wondering if it’d give him the chance to get her to let her guard down the way she had done the night before.

“Oh, rubbish, you party pooper!” Vic shouted back. “Your underwear will do just fine, it’s not like anyone is here to tell you off.”

Y/n shot a look at Victoria. A blush that definitely wasn’t caused by alcohol crept onto her face.

“I’m alright, you have fun.”

Damiano’s head spun, looking at Y/n sitting on the bench. The sheer idea of her joining them like that? Potentially seeing her undress? He was more than glad the water was hiding the lower half of his body.

“Get over here now or we’re dragging you in!” Thomas threatened, already halfway through heaving himself out of the water.

Oh, no way I’m getting out of the water right now, not like this.

“Oh fine! Fine, fine. If it will make you all stop worrying about me ‘not having fun’,” she laughed.” She rolled her trousers up as she moved to the edge of the pool, kicked off her shoes, and let her legs dangle in the water as she sat down. “Happy?”

“For now,” Vic laughed. “But don’t think you’ll always get out of things this easily!”

“Oh come on guys, leave her be.” Ethan decided to be the voice of reason once again. He swam up to her, hair all piled on top of his head in a bun. “Sorry about them - they don’t know when to quit.”

Y/n giggled at his comment.

“It’s cool, nice seeing everyone have a good time though.” Y/n tilted her head for a moment, looking at Ethan. Slowly she raised a hand to hold his face still, the other hand pulling something out of his hair. “There you go. Can’t have fuzz in those luscious locks of yours!”

A scowl appeared on Damiano’s face. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling like this, but the way she was looking at Ethan right now, that soft touch, made all the fantasies in his head shatter for a moment. Why wasn’t she fixing his hair instead. Fuck, he was being stupid. His attention was drawn away from the pair as a loud squeal escaped Victoria, who was currently being wrestled in the water by Thomas.

“Don’t you dare dunk me!”

Damiano didn’t even have to watch to know what happened next. A second later, a spluttering Vic emerged, a murderous look in her eye as she dunked Thomas in return. Their little fight turned chaotic, ending with the top of her bikini slowly floating away from her.

“Aw Vic, do you always have to be topless?!” Thomas laughed loudly.

“You dick! You untied it!”

Y/n instantly covered her eyes, avoiding Victoria’s half-naked body at all costs, looking down at her lap.

“Um - maybe someone should, uh, give her her top back?” She stammered.

Vic looked at the blushing girl, a smirk growing on her face as she whispered something at Thomas, pointing at Y/n, obviously hatching a plan. She swam up to their friend, gently grabbing her legs under the water.

“You are the only one that seems to mind, amore… Do you not like my tits?” Victoria teased, cocking her head to the side as she tried to catch Y/n’s eyes.

“No! No, I mean- That’s not what I mean. Um… I don’t know - is it just me or is it hot in here?” Y/n was a mess, tripping over her words.

“The only one that’s hot here is you, Y/n,” Thomas grinned, swimming off to retrieve Vic’s top, which he handed to her as he came back. The blonde held it up to her boobs in a fake-clumsy way, big eyes looking up at Y/n.

“Oh, I think I’m going to need your help with this, Y/n. Mind tying me up?”

Y/n looked like she was about to explode, her face once again covered in a deep red. With slightly shaking fingers, she moved forwards as Vic turned her back towards her, fumbling with the strings around her neck and her back to tie them up.

“Thanks, babe, you’re a doll!” Victoria grinned, taking the assistant’s hand and leaving a little kiss on her knuckles. It was the point at which Damiano decided he’d definitely need to protect her from his bandmates. If anything, it was his time to bother Y/n now.

As Damiano swam over, Y/n was still bright red. Her head was still lowered, picking at her nail polish, as she squeaked out a “hi”. You’ve got to put on the charm now, you can do it, he said in his head, hyping himself up as he looked back at her. He didn’t want to bring her into even more of an awkward situation, but his hands were on her legs before he even noticed, slightly stroking along the curve of her calves under the water.

“Don’t mind those fools,” he told her in a voice low enough that they wouldn’t hear. “They’re just trying to rile you up because they like seeing you blush. It is a nice sight, to be fair. Seeing you blush.”

“Well, it’s not like I have control over that. Um. Y-you look cool… I mean - good. You know? … fucking hell.” She buried her face in her hands, stifling a flustered chuckle. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I apologise, I will just hide now, forever.”

Yet, the smile on her face hadn’t left since Damiano had arrived. She bit her lip nervously, looking at the singer. Staring at him, maybe trying to figure out what his intentions were. He wished he knew. “Your, uh… eyes… they’re pretty.”

“Don’t even think about ever hiding that face from me, yeah?” He pulled her hands back down as she once again attempted to cover herself. He briefly forgot his hands were wet, until she giggled and patted her own dry on her shirt as he let go. “Your eyes are really pretty too, Y/n, so don’t deprive me of them.”

She blinked a couple of times, taken aback by what he had said. “Alright, I can do that.” She barely noticed they were holding hands. Rubbing her thumb over his skin softly, keeping herself grounded in place by the heat his body gave off under the water. “You just gotta step in when they start taking the piss again, yeah?”

He moved in closer now, only letting go of her hands to grasp onto her thighs, trying to keep himself above water. He was desperate to move between her legs, but he wasn’t going to ruin the moment by taking it too far. Not yet. “Of course. But amore mio, what if I wanted to, uh, ‘take the piss’?”

She smirked. “Oh! Then that’s fine.”

Damiano was sure his heart wasn’t even beating anymore, it was fluttering. There was something about her… every time he watched her, talked to her, he felt like he was looking at her for the first time. Finding a new side to her. He wanted more, constantly craving to get closer, and in moments like these. When she let him in just a little bit, made him feel like he was just one small step above the others, he felt like it was all going to be worth it. The slow way he was working himself into her heart.

“Y/N HAS A TATTOO ON HER ANKLE!” Thomas suddenly shouted, popping out of the water and pointing at the assistant. Damiano was pushed out of the way by Victoria, who grabbed Y/n’s leg. Hoisting it up in the air, turning it to show her ankle. A black outlined hand giving the middle finger with long black nails stared back at the band.

“That is really pretty,” Ethan said softly, but Victoria scoffed

“Pretty? It’s fucking cool! See,” she turned back to Y/n, “you are rock ‘n’ roll!”

Damiano stared at the little drawing on her leg, fascinated to have found yet another side to her he hadn’t seen coming. He wondered if she would let him tattoo her one day, letting him grab her leg, smoothing over the skin, putting that kind of trust in him. He was determined to find out, sooner or later.

“I mean... you think you’re the only ones with tattoos?” Y/n smirked, almost in a cocky way. It was a good look on her. “That one hurt like a bitch-”

“That one?” Damiano threw in. “Does that mean there’s more?”

Looking over at him, she simply smiled, shaking her head. “Anyway, it’s late, we should be going to bed soon. I know - I’m not trying to parent you, but somebody’s gotta be responsible here!” She stood up, fixing her trousers, putting her shoes back on, and grabbing towels to pass around. “Come on, out of the pool. Comply and I will get you something special with your coffee tomorrow!”

***

After everyone had retired to their rooms, Victoria decided she needed another talk. Moving along the hotel corridor, she stopped in front of Damiano’s door, softly knocking. He opened hastily, his face dropping ever so slightly as he saw her.

“Not who you were expecting?” She asked with a smirk as she pushed past him into the room. She was glad they’d all gotten their own rooms for the night and didn’t have to share - no need to involve Ethan or Thomas in the little conversation she was aiming to have with Damiano. Victoria dropped down onto the bed, kicking her shoes off and getting comfortable, as the singer followed.

“What can I do for you?” Damiano asked, shutting the door behind her.

“How about explaining why you were all over Y/n in the pool?” A grin spread on her face. She knew she’d have to be much less careful with Damiano than she had been in the conversation with Y/n, but still needed him to know this was good-natured teasing. “Pretty touchy, if you ask me.”

“Well, we were talking. Don’t need to tell you everything I do.” He flopped onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to smother his face into. “Why?”

“Yes you do, I’m one of your best friends!” She didn’t hesitate in grabbing the second pillow to whack him over the head, before putting it back behind herself to lean against. “Just interested to know what you think of her. You know, because I’m your friend and I care. And I’m nosey, so spill.”

He started groaning into the pillow.

“If I told you I think I like her, would you shut up about it?” He turned his head to the side to look at the blonde. “I don’t know, Vic, she walked into our lives and…” His eyes grew distant as he thought about her.

“Wait, you actually like like her? I was thinking you were just attracted, you know the thrill of the chase and all that. Fuck, Damiano!” Her smile came back tenfold. “I love this!”

He shot up from his lying position. “No! No, you don’t love this! I don’t love this! I have no fucking clue what I’m doing! She is so sweet and kind and sensitive and I can’t stop thinking about her, it’s turning me into a brain-dead zombie. I could never actually win her over, I fuck up so much and- … I talk too much don’t I?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so flustered!” Victoria remarked in amazement. “You’re actually, properly, crushing on her! You should tell her.” She almost added if only for my amusement but decided against it. This was obviously tormenting him already, no need for her to rub it in.

“I’m not gonna tell her shit! She’s our assistant, for god’s sake. I already could be in so much trouble if she took something I said wrong. I could fall flat on my face and- … Vic, I know that you care and you want me to be happy. Which I love and appreciate. We are best friends, we really are. I would do the same thing if you had a crush on someone, but I just don’t know what to do,” he moans, falling back onto the bed. “I haven’t been like this since school.”

Victoria patted his head in sympathy as he buried his face back into the pillow. She wasn’t quite sure what to advise him in this situation. Sure, she would love to see her friend happy. And there was definitely something cooking under the surface of Y/n’s feelings. And, honestly, the thought of the two of them together? She was basically swooning at the thought. But she also knew it wasn’t her place to meddle. Right?

“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I don’t wanna scare her away.” He looked at Victoria with pleading eyes. “Has she talked to you at all? Have you picked up anything from her? Any hints?”

A sigh escaped her lips, but she knew she couldn’t help but give him at least a little push in what she hoped was the right direction. “Look, Damiano. I’m not gonna pretend like I didn’t notice she fancies you. Honestly, no surprise there. But I think we both know she’s not exactly the type to jump right into bed with someone. So take it slow. Show her you care. Woo her.”

“Woo her?! Like an old Italiano romance? I can do that… I think. Okay, what does she like… Y/n, what does she- She doesn’t really talk about herself that much, does she..” Victoria could see the gears turning in his head. “This was so much easier when I wasn’t invested… Why do I have to be invested, Vic?”

He looked at her with dopey eyes, before jumping up and pacing around the room. “Argh! She is making me go insane! I tried writing lyrics, but nothing is working. I just can’t focus when she’s around. She gets this look, especially when talking about her work and language.. At the pool, did you see how she looked at me?”

“You’ve written lyrics?! Now, you really got it bad, my friend,” Victoria shook her head in amusement. “But yes, I did. I told you, she’s interested. Can’t tell you how deep that runs, I’ve only known her for a few days myself and she is working for us, no way to ignore that. So maybe take a step back until you figure this out?”

“Yeah, you’re right. She works for us. That’s… that’s a giant, neon ‘no’.” He stopped walking, looking out of the window. “I need to cool it, don’t I? We’re on tour. What am I doing! We have fans and people who are looking forward to seeing us. We have gigs to play! Fuck.” He sighed, staring off into the distance. “We should probably sleep. No long drive tomorrow, but lots of interviews, right?”

“Don’t get in over your head about this,” she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She hadn’t expected this kind of outburst when she had knocked on his door earlier. “It’s the first week of tour. You got three more of seeing her literally every day. Concentrate on the job, then on her, yeah? Now let’s get some sleep. And I mean it - no pondering and smoking all through the night, you gotta rest!”

“You’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking. Thank you.” He pulled Victoria into a hug. “Thank god you’re here. Wouldn’t know what to do. Goodnight.”

She gave him a little wave as she left his room, only just hearing him mumble, “I have music to perform…”

***

As the night grew to a close, Y/n found herself in her own room, snuggling into a pillow. Glad that the next day would leave less free time. Drive to Copenhagen. Get everyone settled it. Maneuver them from interview to interview, although this time around Victoria would be a great help since she knew Danish. Then off to soundcheck, light dinner, the gig, sleep. No time to get lost in silly daydreams for once.

Yet, as sleep slowly crept up on her, she couldn’t help one last thought entering her mind.

I wonder if he is thinking of me.

[mellowswriting]

Nightmare

pairing || Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary || Bucky struggles to calm down after a particularly rough nightmare - it’s a good thing you’re there to lend him a hand.

word count || 1,799

warnings || hurt and comfort, love confessions

a/n || So I started writing this before the first episode of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier even came out (because I’m incorrigible) so if it’s a little off, that’s why. As someone who’s gone through all that fun trauma-based therapy, seeing Bucky working on himself is validating as fuck. I tried to emphasize that while a good relationship can help after trauma, it doesn’t complete the healing process or suddenly make a person whole. Anyway, enjoy!

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“Bucky?” Your voice cracked, still thick with sleep. “Why are you on the floor?”

“I…” Bucky started but his words failed him. He couldn’t find a way to tell you about it without feeling like he was gutting himself, without bringing the images right back up to torment him all over again. The vulnerability left him trembling, dog tags clinking quietly against his bare chest with every heaving breath.

But he didn’t need to say it. You just nodded and sat down next to him on the blanket he had spread out on the hard floor. Remnants still prickled at the back of his neck, images and echoes of gunfire and that wide open emptiness that cracked his chest on every mission, but he got some small peace from your presence. He felt just a bit safer at the feeling of your knee pressed to his lightly. You didn’t probe him about it, didn’t try to weasel out details, and he was thankful. Instead you offered him your hand and in turn, offered your quiet support, and he gratefully slid his fingers up your palm to curl with your own.

The pressure of your fingers holding him was grounding, kept him in the reality of what was actually happening around him. He wasn’t in that building. He didn’t have a gun in his hand. He wasn’t trapped behind a wall in his own mind. He was at home, sitting cross-legged on his living room floor. He held your hand in his, the softness of your skin against his a sharp contrast to the imagined bite of gunmetal.

He was right there. So were you.

Your thumb slid up and down over his as you tentatively started speaking. “I used to click my tongue to keep myself grounded after nightmares.”

Bucky glanced at you, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“Yeah, I know it seems silly, but it worked for me more often than not.” You said with a small chuckle. “Sometimes I would have to tap if the clicking thing wasn’t working. It drove Tony crazy. He always said he could hear it all throughout the compound, but I think he was bullshitting. And if the tapping didn’t work, I would do sprints until my legs couldn’t hold me up anymore.”

Bucky took a long, deep breath the way his therapist taught him during their first session. Your voice was so calming. “Keep talking?”

“Of course.” You murmured. “It’s cheesy as hell, but they do get easier to deal with. The nightmares, I mean. The more you work at it, the less… vivid they are. I still get pretty bad ones every now and then, but even those are a little easier to come down from.”

“I hope you’re right.” He said.

“Well, you’re in therapy - even if it’s mandatory, you’re still showing up. Still putting in the effort. You’re sleeping semi-regularly, eating somewhat healthy. Trust me, you’re doing better than you realize. It takes a minute for you to ease out of survival mode, so it can be hard to tell how far you’ve already come.” You squeezed his hand lightly. “I’m proud of you, Bucky.”

A breath caught in his chest as he turned to look at you where you leaned your head back against the wall. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Well, you did save me from getting shot that one time.” You teased and Bucky laughed quietly, a genuine one that seemed to surprise you. “But seriously. You’re a good person, that’s all you have to do.”

“No, I’m not.” The laugh turned self-deprecating. “I don’t have to tell you that, either. I know you’ve read the files.”

“That wasn’t you. That was Hydra.” Your free hand pressed against his bare chest, right over his heart. “This is you. You aren’t what they put in your head. You’re the person who went out and bought me a new coffeemaker in the middle of the night when mine broke so I wouldn’t have to go without caffeine the next morning. You’re the person who's mowed Mrs. Franklin’s yard twice a month since her husband passed. You’re the person who is working their ass off to get better.”

There weren’t words. He didn’t have them, the ones that could tell you how much he appreciated you, how much you meant to him. So he covered the hand you placed on his chest with his own, wishing he could actually feel you, but the prosthetic had its limitations with the enhancements given by the vibranium. You nodded at him, a quiet acknowledgement of his thanks.

Silence fell over you both. It was a comfortable one, not the heavy, oppressive silence that curled around him in the moments after waking. Your hand fell away from his chest, much to his disappointment. The skin against skin was comforting. A moment later you shifted onto your knees, ready to stand and seemingly leave him there, and Bucky tightened his grip on your hand instinctually.

“Please… don’t go.” His voice was small.

“I’m just going to get you some water. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

And you did. You returned less than a minute later and handed him a glass of cool water, watching him take a few sips until you were satisfied, and then stole a sip for yourself. Bucky couldn’t help the small smile that found him at the sight as you settled back in next to him and offered him your hand once more. He took it, but didn’t interlock your fingers like before. Instead he lifted your hand to his face and pressed your palm against his cheek, eyes falling closed at your cool skin against his warmth. Your thumb rubbed small circles along his cheekbone and when he opened his eyes again, you were looking at him almost thoughtfully. Impulsively, Bucky tilted his head slightly and kissed the delicate skin of your wrist and he could hear your breath stutter in your chest.

“Bucky…” You whispered, worry suddenly played across your features.

“I talk about you in therapy, you know.” He whispered, his heart jumping in his chest at the prospect of telling you about it, admitting his vulnerability. “I told her about how you make me feel… seen. And safe. I told her about how I always think about you. About… kissing you. And making you laugh.”

You swallowed, the sound louder in the resounding silence of three a.m confessions. “And what did she say?”

“That she could tell I was in love with you before I would even admit it to myself.” He whispered the words as if breathing them to life would make the very earth crumble at his feet.

“I couldn't live with myself if I got in the way of your healing.” You said and his heart soared in his chest. You weren't rejecting him, weren't pulling away in disgust or fear. No, you were putting his needs first - or rather, what you perceived his needs to be.

“Part of my healing is supposed to be building relationships, you know.” There was a small smile on his face at the very thought of it - of falling asleep and waking next to you each morning, of finally getting to kiss and touch you like he craved for so long.

“So… we take it slow?” You said and Bucky watched your eyes flick down to his lips before meeting his gaze again, your body leaning closer as if drawn in by the very gravity that held you to the earth.

“Yeah, we take…” Bucky leaned in, meeting you halfway, your lips a hairsbreadth apart. “...it…” You brushed your nose against his gently and he sighed contentedly, eyes finally falling closed. “...slow…”

The first press of your lips to his was soft. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time, the simple pleasure of a kiss, and the fact that it was you only made it all the better. He relaxed against you, pulling you closer by a hand on your waist and angling himself to deepen the kiss. Your gasp against his lips was addictive, something he could happily spend the rest of his life seeking out.

A shudder ran down Bucky’s spine at the feeling of your hand sliding up from his cheek to tangle in his hair, the short cropped style barely enough for you to grab onto. Fuck, you felt so good, he could lose himself in you without regret, could drown in the bliss that washed over him and -

He pulled away gently, offering one last peck against your lips as a parting gift, and pressed his forehead to yours to catch his breath, to calm himself down. He had to go slow and going slow decidedly was not dragging you onto his living room floor and finally letting his hands roam underneath your soft pajamas. You chuckled quietly and that was what got him to lean back and look at you again, dumbstruck by the dazed, happy look on your face.

“You’re good at that,” You whispered, earning you a bashful laugh.

“So are you.” Bucky sighed, the heavy weight of sleepiness gathering at his shoulders. “I need to try to go back to sleep… join me?”

“I think this floor would kill my back, sweetheart.” You teased and holy shit, his heart soared in his chest.

Sweetheart. He was your sweetheart.

“I was thinking we could share my bed, but if you’re gonna tease me -”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Barnes.” You surprised him with another kiss before climbing to your feet, your hand reaching out to pull him up with you.

He couldn’t help but feel amazed at the sight of you climbing into his bed, settling right into his rumpled sheets and looking up at him expectantly. He wasn’t going to leave you waiting, not when he finally got you right where he wanted you. You yawned as you brought him closer to lay his head against your chest and he melted right into you. Bucky curled his arm around your middle, effectively bringing your bodies completely flush against each other.

“You’re so warm, Buck.” You mumbled, sleepiness already warping your voice.

Bucky just hummed, his own exhaustion finally seeping back into his body now that the remnants of paranoid tension eased away at the steady sound of your heartbeat reverberating against his ear. Your hand rested against the top of his head to tease at his hair once more, and it was that gentle affection that had his eyes falling closed. At peace for the moment, his mind let him fall back into sleep, knowing that when the nightmares inevitably found him once more, he would have you there to help guide him back to where he belonged.

Right in your arms.

[wafflesandkruge]

One Early Morning in Os Alta

Nikolai accidentally drinks one of David's experiments and becomes obsessed with solving the mystery that is Zoya Nazyalensky. The Triumvirate is his most unwilling audience as he attempts to piece together where she goes at night with nothing but his caffeine-fueled brain and a chalkboard.

Written for the @grishaversebigbang mini bang! Thank you so much to the amazing @kolarpem (x) and @denndrawings​ (x) who created beautiful art for this fic 🥺 ❤️  

ao3

In their three short years of marriage, Genya and David had developed a morning routine. David, eager to get to the labs early so he could have the room to himself, would wake at the crack of dawn like clockwork and share a few sleepy kisses with her before getting on his way. After a few more hours of much-needed beauty sleep, Genya would commandeer some breakfast and find him tinkering away at whatever project Nikolai had put him to. It was a comfortable rhythm, a familiar constant in their otherwise hectic lives.

But today, Genya was just drifting off to sleep again after being woken by her husband when the door to their bedroom slammed open to reveal a very disheveled David. His glasses were slightly more askew than usual and his kefta rumpled. Genya let out a small yawn.

“David? What’s wrong?”

“There has been a development.” He didn’t elaborate further as he strode over to their wardrobe and pulled out her kefta. She tugged it over her head without question and followed him sleepily out of the room. They’d been together long enough that she’d learned not to try to get him to elaborate. He’d either clam up for hours trying to find the right words or talk in circles trying to fully explain a very easily explainable situation. Only the Saints knew what it was this time. She just hoped it was something easily resolvable so she could go back to sleep. Perhaps a puppy running loose in the labs, or an Inferni who’d burned off their eyebrows and wanted her to Tailor them back. Simple things.

But instead of the labs, David pulled her into Nikolai’s bedroom and Genya knew it was going to be a long day. Tamar and Tolya were already seated on a sofa, both with their arms crossed and similar scowls on their faces. Zoya was absent. And Nikolai was animatedly scribbling on a large blackboard that had been wheeled to the front of the room, “ZOYA NAZYALENSKY” scrawled at the top in large letters and circled three times for emphasis. The rest of the board was covered in near incomprehensible writing and doodles.

Genya frowned as David pulled her down into the seat next to him. “Did you steal that from the Little Palace, Nikolai? How will the children learn?”

Her king didn’t answer. He seemed busy working on a doodle of what looked like a five legged tiger on a corner of the board. David patted her hand absentmindedly as he opened his notebook and started scribbling as well.

“Is anyone going to explain this to me?” Genya asked mildly as Tolya slid a cup of tea towards her. She supposed the Triumvirate had seen worse, and their king acting like a man possessed didn’t rank particularly high on their list, but she still didn’t appreciate being woken up early for this. If anything, the twins should have just knocked him out and then everyone could get their well deserved rest.

Tamar crossed her arms. Her short hair stuck up in every direction as if she’d just rolled out of bed. “Well, your genius husband over there,” she starts, her tone not quite complimentary, “was working on one of his little experiments again.”

Genya nodded distractedly as she removed a small mirror from the inside of her sleeve. David took it from her obediently and held it up as she began Tailoring away the dark circles under her eyes. It wasn’t a substitute for her lost sleep, but it’d have to do for now.

“Coffee with a mild strain of parem in it for an extra stimulant,” David explained as she moved on to bringing more color into her cheeks. “Since you’re always complaining about the Little Palace’s coffee leaving you groggier than before.”

Genya’s hands stilled as she offered David a small smile. Even after knowing him for this long, his kindness never failed to surprise her. “That’s lovely, dear. But how does that relate to Nikolai acting like...this?”

Both of them jumped when Nikolai let out a rather concerning cackle. He had moved on from the deformed tiger to a caricature of someone who looked alarmingly like General Pensky. Genya scanned the board, barely able to decipher his scribbling. Secret lover...treason...illicit rendezvous? She furrowed her brows.

Tolya glowered at them from his spot next to his sister. “Nikolai drank David’s experiment. And now he refuses to administer the antidote because he wants to observe his behavior for the sake of science.”

“That’s not strictly true,” David said as he handed the mirror back to Genya and picked up his pencil again. “I don’t have an antidote ready. Instead of taking the time and labor to manufacture one, we might as well just wait for it to wear off naturally.”

Tolya opened his mouth again to argue, but then a piece of chalk flew by, barely missing Genya’s nose. Nikolai slammed his hands on the table and her tea splashed out of its cup. 

All four of their heads turned towards their king. His shirt was buttoned incorrectly, his hair wild, and a distinctly unhinged look in his eyes. His jacket was tied around his shoulders like a cape. It had to be the worst Genya has ever seen him, though there had been that time when Kirigin had convinced him to do a few shots of that whiskey from the Wandering Isles and he’d been convinced he was a saint—

“Friends!” His voice was entirely too loud for the intimate setting. “I have gathered you here today to solve one of our most pressing problems.”

“Our empty coffers?” Genya asked with a yawn.

“Impending war on three fronts?” offered Tolya.

“My brother’s incurable love for five hour poetry recitations?” 

David continued silently taking notes in his book.

“No,” Nikolai declared with an empathetic shake of his head, “we’re here to discuss the mystery of...Zoya Nazyalensky.”

He stepped to the side and for the first time, Genya was able to see the entirety of the blackboard he’d been writing on. Not a single inch of it had been spared from his rather enthusiastic scrawl and doodles like he was preparing to give them the world’s most fascinating lecture on the enigma that was Zoya. Genya felt a headache incoming.

“Perhaps we could do this at a more reasonable hour,” she began, but Nikolai smacked his hand against the blackboard which sent up a giant cloud of chalk dust.

“Nonsense! There’s no time like the present, and Zoya is away so it’s the perfect time to speculate upon her true intentions.” He waved his arm towards a bullet point at the top of the board, but in his eagerness, nearly knocked the entire board over. Genya let out another yawn and sank back into the couch. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if she dozed off.

“Where does she go at night?” Nikolai demanded as he began pacing furiously. The papers pinned to the board fluttered in his wake. “About once a week or so, the palace guards tell me she’s seen walking on the grounds late at night, alone. She’s almost certainly meeting with someone. But who? And why?”

“Are you sure you don’t have an antidote?” she whispered to David.

“Positive.” He scratched his ear, a sure sign he was lying. Genya sighed. She supposed she’d have him make it up to her later. She knew better than to talk him out of one of science moods. 

“A lover!” Nikolai continued. “She has a secret lover!”

Genya knew for a fact Zoya had no one in her heart other than their king as much as she liked pretending she hated him and his entire existence. In her own opinion, it probably had something to do with the very expensive gifts Nikolai routinely offered because Zoya was nothing if not a creature of luxury. Still, she took a sip of her tea and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do go on.”

“At first I thought it was General Pensky, but he’s been stationed at the border for over a month and the night walks haven’t stopped. So that leaves no other option than…” Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. He executed a sloppy about-face that any army commander would have had him running laps for and pointed an accusing finger at Tolya. “You’re Zoya’s secret lover!”

Tolya frowned and crossed his arms. “I would rather go back to Novyi Zem and become a jurda farmer. Less chance of sudden death.”

Nikolai grabbed at his hair. “But if you’re not seeing Zoya...and Tamar isn’t– you’re not right?”

“I’m married, Nikolai.”

“Right, right, right,” he muttered. He turned back to look at his board. “Then there’s only one other answer.”

“We all go back to bed?” Genya suggested.

Nikolai turned to her, an oddly intense look in his eyes. “How could you suggest we all retire when Zoya is plotting against the throne?”

Genya blinked. “How exactly did you get there?”

“It all makes sense!” Nikolai babbled excitedly. He waved his arms in excitement. “The late night walks. The secrecy. Why she’s always so mean to me—”

“She’s mean to everyone,” Tamar interjected.

“She’s working with the Fjerdans! Or the Shu! Of course, I should have seen it from the start…”

Genya tuned him out again as he went back to drawing on the board while muttering to himself about how the Fjerdan’s diabolical plan to have Zoya seduce him was working too well. She put her head on David’s shoulder and focused on the page of notes he was working on. Except instead of notes, it was a sketch of a woman’s face. Her face. As she watched, his pencil scratched out the curve of her lips, one corner lifted in a half smile. “What are you doing, dear?”

“Studying something beautiful,” he answered without a moment of hesitation. 

Genya’s lips curled into a smile as she let her eyes shut. “You’re sweet today. Maybe we should let Nikolai poison himself more often.”

“There’s a seventy percent chance his heart would give out if we attempted this more than once a week.”

“Regicide,” Genya said with a sigh, “How romantic.”

[leiawritesstories]

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair. 

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job. 

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth. 

As if she knew anything her staff actually did. 

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together. 

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation. 

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself. 

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order. 

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English. 

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

~

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple. 

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved. 

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure. 

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved. 

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve. 

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind. 

“You broke both of your hearts” 

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

~

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice. 

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds. 

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city. 

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner. 

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed. 

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction. 

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth. 

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love.  We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. 

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages. 

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan. 

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof. 

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech. 

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying. 

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan. 

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow. 

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything. 

She was worthy of him. 

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified. 

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

~

Present day. 

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked. 

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch. 

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.” 

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

~

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

~

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......