#the first watch through I was distracted by the shot through the window that made feel like a creeper

[prem-ium]

Dean's hand placement...👀

[natalievoncatte]

The heat was getting to be a problem.

The power had been out in National City for three days, and those three days were expected to be among the hottest of the year. Lena was, frankly, desperate.

You might think that she’d have it easy, but anyone who would think that a penthouse in a skyscraper would be easy to cool would quickly be disabused of that notion. The windows mostly didn’t open and having the balcony doors spread wide did next to nothing when the breeze felt like opening an oven, even up here.

It had been Alex’s suggestion, sent by text.

Why don’t you go to Kara’s? The loft is pretty breezy.

She was right, of course. When Lena arrived, Kara had every one of her huge loft windows open, allowing the breeze to flow freely through the open, airy space.

There was another problem, though.

When Kara opened the door, Lena nearly keeled over. Kara was wearing a sports bra and shorts so short they barely deserved the name, exposing a vast amount of golden, sun-kissed skin. Worse, her gloriously muscled stomach and shoulders glistened with sweat.

Lena was surprised to see that the heat bothered her, but it clearly did. Kara had forgone her glasses, too, and after she opened the door, she swept the back of her hand across her forehead and sighed.

“Hi,” Lena squeaked.

“Hi yourself. Hot out there?”

“It’s hot in here.”

“Come in, come in,” said Kara.

Lena stepped inside, forcing herself not to stare at Kara’s thick thighs and the swell of her chest under straining fabric. Was that zipper some advanced Kryptonian technology?

“Want something to drink?”

“Isn’t your fridge dead, too?”

“Yeah, but I cheat. Watch.”

Kara slipped a bottle of water out of a pack on her counter and breathed on it. Ice crystals formed on the surface and the water visibly chilled. It shocked Lena when she accepted it and the cold water on her lips was bliss. Lena let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of cold spreading through her chest, cooling her body.

When she opened her eyes, Kara was the one staring. Lena had thrown on a short, a-frame sun dress that bared her back, for no other reason than making sure that her skin could have as much surface exposed to the air to evaporate and cool her down as possible.

“So what are you up to?” Lena asked.

Kara gestured to the notebook and stacks of papers on the table.

“Old-fashioned journalism, I guess. My laptop battery died yesterday.”

“I thought you’d be out there trying to fix the power.”

Kara shrugged. “With what, my super-electrician powers?”

Lena shot her a look, raising her brow.

Kara turned away, heading for the windows.

Oh, Jesus, Lena thought.

It wasn’t as if Lena hadn’t… noticed Kara’s physique. She wasn’t blind, after all. They’d taken spin class together, and Kara liked to wear leggings on the weekends.

But holy shit, those shorts made her ass look… Super.

Lena was still fumbling over a buns of steel pun in her head when Kara turned back.

“Hey, you okay? Your heart raced for a second there.”

“F-fine,” said Lena.

“Alex and the others are coming over tonight for an emergency game night,” said Kara. “I better get ready.”

For the next couple of hours, Lena helped Kara neaten up her apartment and prepare non-perishable snacks and a cooler full of beer and wine coolers, chilled care of Kara. Alex and Kelly were the first to show up, with Alex giving Lena a cheeky look as she walked into the apartment.

“Hey, you two,” she said. “Been having a hot time?”

There was something brittle in Kara’s laugh that set Lena a little on edge, and the Danvers sisters shared one of those looks they shared that made Lena wonder if they could communicate telepathically. Whatever the message was, it made Kara look away first, distracting with an offered beer that Alex gladly accepted.

Lena took a wine cooler, wishing it were wine.

Nia and Brainy showed up next, followed by J’onn, who was the only one fully dressed in a button-down shirt and khakis, while everyone else was dressed for the beach or a track meet.

Lena sat on the floor, because the hardwood was cool under her butt, and leaned back against Kara’s couch. Kara sat beside her and Lena’s heart definitely sped up.

Looking over, it was hard to tear her eyes away. Kara made a magnificent display- the blocky weight of her shoulders, full biceps and strong arms and bulky, sculpted forearms. Lena’s eyes followed the vein on the back of Kara’s arm down the back of her strong hand and the elegant lengths of her fingers.

Kara kept her nails neatly trimmed like that because of Supergirl duties, right?

Right?

“Hey Luthor? You having a heat stroke?” said Alex. “You look spaced out over there.”

Alex had a playful grin plastered on her face, though she too was sweating profusely. A cooler breeze rolled in through the big windows and everyone sighed in delight.

Except J’onn. “What shall we play first?” she said.

“Clue!” Nia chirped.

“Brainy always kicks our ass at Clue,” said Alex, “and I am not playing Monopoly with a literal billionaire again.”

“Perhaps we should play Risk,” said J’onn, rifling through the game shelf.

“We could try Twisted,” Kara suggested in a deadpan voice.

Lena swallowed hard, thinking of herself tangled up on the mat with Kara, clothes glued to their skin by sweat, salty skin sliding against salty skin, the scent of her…

“Earth to Lena,” said Alex. “Got any ideas?”

“Exploding Kittens,” said Lena. “We haven’t done that one in a while.”

“Kara, chill us some cold ones, will you?” said Nia.

Once everyone had a rapidly warming drink, Brainy dealt the cards and the game began. Alex called Kara out for peeking several times, with that loaded Danvers Sisters Look and an almost predatory smirk.

She wasn’t the only one peeking.

Lena participate in the game but her mind was elsewhere, specifically the valley of Kara’s broad back, where sweat gathered between her muscles and rain down in heavy beads, or the sweat gathering along her collarbone or sparking along the lush inner curves of her tightly contained breasts.

“Hey,” said Kara. “It’s your turn, Lena.”

Then she reached over and brushed damp lock of inky hair out of Lena’s eyes.

She could have melted. She swallowed hard, brushed the sweat from her brow, and made a hasty and wasteful play that would probably cost her any chance of winning, but she didn’t care. The game seemed at most a distant concern.

Kara’s tongue glazing along her soft pink lips was much more interesting. They’d pretty much all given up on makeup but Kara was still positively radiant, soft and inviting and homey in a way that made Lena ache in her chest.

And, uh, other places.

It was full dark now, so they finished the game and Kara and Alex got up to light a few candles.

“This is like camping,” said Nia.

“We should have thought to procure ‘marshmallows’, said Brainy. “Kara could toast them with her heat vision.”

“We hardly need more heat. I’m boiling,” said Lena.

J’onn let out a soft grunt. “It’s my turn to go on patrol. I think I’ll be the first to head out.

Everyone gave their goodbyes as he headed out the window. The others huddled closer around the table, lit by the candle sitting in the middle.

“We should tell scary stories,” said Alex. “Like around a campfire.”

“Since it was your idea, you go first,” said Kelly.

Alex leaned into it with abandon, leaning in over the table as she started spinning a campfire yarn that Lena quickly recognized as The Hook.

Kara edged closer, until her bare thigh pressed against Lena. She leaned in close, and it wouldn’t have taken much for Lena to… rest her head on Kara’s shoulder. It just kind of happened, Kara’s scent filling her nostrils as she turned into Kara.

Lena flinched as Kara shot her a concerned look.

She can hear my heartbeat.

Kara must have thought Lena was scared, because she casually slipped an arm around her.

Lena’s breath caught. Kara’s powerful arm rested lazily around her hip and her relaxed hand rested on Lena’s thigh, fingers placed lightly on bare skin.

It was a powerfully possessive gesture, not just protective but… more. Lena shifted a little and let herself completely fall against Kara.

Alex kept on telling the story, her gaze pausing heavily on the two of them as she scanned the room. Brainy looked bored but Nia looked genuinely petrified and Kelly was looking at her wife with the kind of adoring reference that was currently plastered on Lena’s face as she looked up at Kara.

Alex reached the crescendo of the story and Lena let out a little gasp, turning her face into Kara’s neck, more for the sake of it than out of fear. Kara’s hand stroked lazily up and down her back.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone get you,” Kara whispered.

“You two okay over there?” said Alex.

“Fine,” said Kara.

“There are two actual couples here and you two are the ones doing the heavy petting.”

They weren’t heavy petting. Okay sure, Lena had her fingers curled around Kara’s hip and Kara’s hand was staring to pass the platonic zone when stroking her back but…

Oh.

“It’s getting late,” said Kelly. “Maybe we should head home.”

“Agreed,” said Nia. “Come on, Brainy.”

Lena and Kara didn’t get up.

The others did, piling out of the apartment. Alex went last, shooting Kara another of those damned looks, smiling like a self-satisfied cat after a big stretch.

The door closed and Kara yawned.

“Mind if I stay?” Lena said, quickly. “My place is just too hot to sleep.”

“Of course,” Kara said softly.

Lena didn’t move. They were alone now, the apartment dark except for candles that threw flickering shadows and made Kara even more ethereal. Lena could barely believe someone so gorgeous could be real.

“Lena,” Kara said quietly. “Have you ever thought about…” she trailed off.

“About what?”

“Us. What we are to each other.”

“Yes,” said Lena.

“Me too.”

“What are you thinking?” Lena asked.

“You’re my best friend. You mean more to me than basically anyone else, and the thought of you has kept me going through some really dark times.”

When Kara smiled for her, her eyes lit up, sparkling in the candlelight, like moonlight dancing on nighttime waves. She was entrancing.

“I…” Lena began. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as just a friend. There’s more on the table if you want it.”

“More like… kissing?”

“Yes, exactly.”

This was actually happening. It was real, not a daydream or a fantasy. Kara moved with agonizing slowness, full of a gentle, kind intensity as she leaned down and lightly brushed her lips across Lena’s.

It was like being tossed in a tub of ice water… in a good way. Lena shivered as Kara cupped her jaw and went for another kiss, more forcefully this time, more insistent. The breathed as one.

“Kara,” Lena whispered.

She couldn’t help it. Lena dragged her tongue over Kara’s skin, tasting the sweat pooled at the base of her neck. Kara let out a low moan followed by a deep basso rumble in her chest, pulsating in time with her breathing.

“Did you just lick my sweat?”

“Are you purring?!”

Kara giggled. “I can do lots of things.”

Lena looked up at her with lidded eyes. “Oh yeah? Show me what you got.”

She squeaked as Kara picked her up in a single smooth motion, and with a self-satisfied smirk, carried her towards the bed.

Later, as they lay in a tangle of perspiring limbs atop sweat-soaked sheets, the power thumped back on and the air conditioning began to blow over them, chilling Lena’s skin.

She barely noticed.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley has to preserve your dignity in the most awkward way possible. He's ready for a relaxing few days off at Christmas with your parents, but their visit gets off to a rocky start. But by the end of their trip, Bradley is once again feeling as hopeful for the future as you are. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, titty fuck, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

It might have been amusing if it was happening to someone else, but it definitely wasn't. It was happening to him. Bradley looked at the time as he backed his Bronco out of the driveway at top speed and took off down the street. You and he should have been leaving now to get to the airport on time to pick up your parents, but that was just going to have to wait.

"Jesus Christ," he growled, barely pausing at the stop sign after he made sure nobody was coming. Bradley Ross was still packing up his truck not five minutes ago, so he couldn't have gone far. Through polite conversation, Bradley knew that the contractor lived a little further south in Coronado, so hopefully he could catch up to him quickly.

Bradley loved you with his whole being. You were the smartest, most capable person he had ever met. You also had pregnancy hormones on the brain, and if you weren't currently forgetting full conversations you'd had, you were falling asleep on a whim. Getting dirty photos from you was always a welcome distraction, but right now, you needed to focus a little extra on everything. Apparently having two Bradleys around was not the best idea.

"Yes," Bradley gasped, hitting the accelerator even though he was approaching a red light. The white Ross Construction pickup truck was stopped and waiting, and he cut into the other lane to pull up right next to it. "Shit," he groaned, realizing he couldn't roll his passenger side window down from the driver's seat. He started honking his horn before the light turned green, and the other Bradley turned to look at him in surprise, but his expression immediately melted into apprehension. It was obvious he'd seen the pictures. "God damn it."

After gesturing wildly for him to pull over, the light turned green, and Bradley was relieved when the truck moved through the intersection and then stopped in front of the first house. He pulled the Bronco over in front of the truck and hopped out as soon as he killed the engine. This was about to be one of the most awkward conversations of his life, and he'd had his share.

"Hey," he said as calmly as he could as the other man put his window down. Then he cleared his throat and sighed. "You may have received a text message from my wife in error."

He was met with bright red cheeks and guilt ridden eyes, and Bradley felt his hands curl into fists at his sides as his nostrils flared. Fucking hell, this man had seen your tits.

"Uh, I'm assuming that the mix-up occurred because of our names?" he asked. Bradley could see his phone sitting in the cupholder, and he wanted to snap it in half. 

"That's right," he replied through gritted teeth. How the fuck was he supposed to proceed here? He needed to make sure your dignity was as intact as it could possibly be at this point, and if he had to get a little aggressive, he would. "Mind letting me see your phone?"

The other man reached for it slowly, and Bradley watched him unlock it as he said, "I only saw the message preview when I started driving."

"But you saw it," Bradley snapped, rubbing his temple as he held out his other hand palm side up.

"Yeah."

Once the phone was in his hand, he confirmed that the message was still unread. At least there was that. While Bradley Ross may have seen your glorious breasts for himself, at least he'd only have his memory to rely on from here on out. He took his time and deleted each of the three photos. Then he emptied out the trash folder. Then he double checked that there was no trace of the photos anywhere before he deleted your contact information from the man's address book. After one more quick sweep to be sure his wife's tits were nowhere to be found, he handed the phone back to the abashed looking man.

He wasn't going to apologize for chasing him down, and he wasn't going to threaten him for something you started. Instead Bradley merely muttered, "Happy holidays," before returning to his Bronco and sliding into the seat.

He didn't realize how much his heart was pounding until he was sitting there in the silent interior, watching the Ross Construction truck pull away. He dug your phone out of his pocket while he started to calm down. When he entered your pass code, he saw that you had a new text from Cam but nothing else. Out of extreme caution, he blocked the other Bradley's phone number before deleting it from your address book, and then he started up the engine.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with her?" he muttered to himself as he pulled a u-turn and headed home. He thought about spanking you, but he was certain you'd just enjoy yourself. Frankly he would too. He wanted to lecture you about always checking the recipient before trying to send him something dirty, but he knew you probably already felt badly enough. When he pulled into the driveway, he saw you peering out the front window, waiting for him. Then he walked inside with his fingers wrapped around both phones and found you standing in the middle of the living room.

"What happened?" you asked, worrying your hands in front of your pregnant belly. Your eyes were wide, and you bit down on your lip, clearly beyond concerned to hear what he had to say. All thoughts of scolding you fled his mind, and when he opened his arms, you rushed toward him. 

"I took care of it. Deleted everything from his phone."

"On my god," you moaned, your belly pressing against him as you sighed in relief. He wrapped his arms around you as you settled against his chest and looked up at him. "Did he see the photos?" you asked softly. When he nodded, you winced. "I'm so sorry, Roo."

Tears filled your eyes as he sighed and looked around the room. The house was spotlessly clean, and the mostly undecorated Christmas tree was standing tall in the corner by the window. Everything was ready for your parents to get here, but neither of you made a move to leave. 

"I'm not mad at you, Sweetheart. It's not like you sent them to him on purpose," he whispered.

"I would never," you replied, voice filled with conviction. "These are all yours. And soon to be Rosie's." You patted your chest, and Bradley smiled.

"She's the only one I'm dividing my time with." He kissed your forehead. "We should leave to get your parents before it gets any later."

You agreed, and Bradley got you all buckled into the red Bronco. Of course there was a ton of traffic now that it was the peak of rush hour, and shortly into the drive you told him, "My dad texted me. They already landed."

"They're just going to have to wait," he replied, trying his best to merge onto the highway.

You were silent for a few minutes while you messed around on your phone, but finally you asked him, "Did you at least like the pictures?"

Bradley glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. "Of your tits?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "You didn't say anything about them."

He was practically ramming into other cars to try to find a spot in the parking garage at San Diego International after chasing down another man and forcefully demanding he hand over his phone, and you were honestly worried about whether or not he liked the way your boobs looked in the photos. He barked out a laugh as he swung the Bronco into a spot and parked. 

"What?" you asked, frowning at him. "You've been very vocal about them!"

He gestured for your phone, and you handed it to him before crossing your arms over your chest. Even though the two of you were late, he took a moment to really look at the photos in question again. He liked the first one where it looked like you were about to spill out of your bra. The second was just as nice since you were showing off your breasts and your wedding rings. And the third one was the main event, literally a vivid depiction of where he currently most enjoyed letting himself unload after he fucked you.

"Yes, Baby Girl. I like the pictures. In fact, I love them." He texted them from your phone to his, making sure he had the correct name selected before he gave your phone back. "And I'd love to see them in person when we get home later if you're in the mood."

You rolled your eyes and squeezed your thighs together. "I'll almost certainly be in the mood," you informed him as you opened your door.

"Oh, one more thing," he said, and you glanced back at him as he smirked. "How about you let me be the resident photographer for the time being?"

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

Your mom and dad looked annoyed when the two of you showed up late to retrieve them from the airport after weeks of assuring them that you'd pick them up without issue, but as soon as they saw your belly, they calmed down.

"Look at you!" your mom gushed, rubbing her hands together before placing them on your bump. "How's our sweet granddaughter?" she asked as Bradley started to collect their luggage.

"Very active," you told her with a smile. "She'll start doing somersaults if you wait there long enough."

"Really?" your dad chimed in, coming to stand with your mom after helping Bradley. That's how you ended up with four hands plastered to your midsection while your husband stood behind you and kissed your ear.

"Want to tell them her name?" he whispered, his lips brushing your skin. You had to assume he wasn't too upset about Bradley Ross and the boob photos if he was still just as loving as always. 

Of course your mom heard every word he said and practically shouted, "You picked out a name?"

You nodded as your parents both stared at you. "Rose."

"Rose!" your mom gasped like she'd just won the lottery.

"That's pretty," your dad mused, and that's when the baby started thumping in what seemed like delight. "I feel her!"

"So do I! Hi, Rose! It's your Nana!"

You desperately wanted to go home and eat dinner, but you stood there until your parents wore themselves out asking questions and trying to feel the baby move. Eventually Bradley said, "You must be tired and hungry. There's food at the house, and the attic renovation is done and ready for you."

"Perfect," your mom replied. "You can just tuck us away up there, and we'll be out of your hair."

"That's the idea," Bradley muttered, and you elbowed him hard in the ribs as he led the way outside, pulling the massive suitcase behind him. "Watch it, Sweetheart, or I'll tell them why we were late."

"You wouldn't," you whispered.

He just shrugged. "You think I care if they know you tried to send me dirty pictures? Really, it just shows how much you love me."

You rolled your eyes as he smirked while your parents chattered away about how crazy it was to spend Christmas in California for the first time ever.

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

Bradley thought your parents would be exhausted and in bed as soon as he started cleaning up from dinner, but your dad headed for the nursery to inspect the new furniture which was still in the boxes, and your mom started unpacking your childhood Christmas ornaments from her carry on bag.

"Oh!" you gushed as she handed some to you. "I forgot about these! Bradley, look! It's my handprint from when I was four!"

You were holding up a seriously hideous green and purple Play Doh blog that Tramp was trying to lick, but he couldn't help but smile. "Maybe we can make one with Rosie each year," he mused as you hung it on the tree.

"We have to," you told him as you unwrapped another homemade ornament. You got lost in conversation with your mom, so he wandered to the nursery to see what your dad was up to.

"Hey," he said from the doorway with a little chuckle. Your dad was sitting on the floor with all of the crib parts laid out around him.

"Just checking to make sure everything's here," he muttered, counting a handful of screws. "We're probably going to want to get started on this project first thing in the morning so we have time to get it all done."

"Sure," Bradley agreed. "Thanks again for agreeing to help me with it."

"Happy to help," he murmured, adjusting his reading glasses to peruse the instruction booklet. "Happy to help." Your dad stood and rubbed his back before following Bradley out of the room. They found you and your mom out on the back patio with the lights on, looking at the massive playset.

"It's so cute!" your mom said.

"It's over the top," you responded. "Bradley just had to have it."

"He's going to be a good dad. Give him a break. I can't believe he built this thing by himself."

"Jake helped him," you told her.

"Jake helped a tiny bit," Bradley announced, and you turned to look at him with a little smile. "You know what would be fun?"

"Hmm?" you hummed, and your parents both turned to look at him.

"We could put strings of lights on the playset."

"That's a great idea, Roo!" The three of you were immediately discussing whether the lights should be white or colorful, and you were clapping your hands in excitement. Having your parents out for a California Christmas, especially with the Nugget coming soon, just felt right. The tree he picked out already looked better covered in your ornaments, and your dad was going to help him knock some of his projects off his to-do list. 

He didn't feel awkward in his own skin like he did on occasion when he missed his mom so much it hurt. She would have loved every second of your pregnancy. She would have been on the phone every night, bugging the hell out of him, but Bradley would do anything to have her back. When you slipped your hand into his, he pulled you closer and said, "I'm happy your parents are here."

You kissed him right in front of them and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. He vaguely heard your parents say they were going to head up to bed and to have a good night which was convenient, because after everything that happened today, he was ready to be alone with you.

"Come on," he whispered when you broke the kiss. "I want to snuggle with you and Rosie." He called Tramp inside, and you led him toward the bedroom with your hand held loosely in his. But you didn't head for the bathroom or climb into bed. Instead you pulled his shirt off and tugged down his gym shorts and underwear before pointing to the bed.

"Have a seat," you told him, his cock shamelessly responding to you, already bobbing excitedly in anticipation of what was to come. Wordlessly, he took a seat at the edge of the bed and watched you pull your shirt over your belly and all the way off. His lips and hands were on your bump, and when you pulled your sports bra over your head, his mouth found your breasts. 

"I've got a little treat for you, Roo," you told him, brushing your fingers through his hair as he pulled your nipple between his lips. You moaned softly and added, "For being the best husband earlier and chasing down the man I accidentally texted dirty pictures to."

He grunted and grinned as he let your nipple pop free. "This is all mine," he said as he gestured at your body, and you nodded vigorously. 

"Absolutely." When you took a step toward your nightstand, he whined softly, but when you returned to him with a small bottle of lube in your hand, his eyes lit up.

"What are you doing, Baby Girl?" His voice sounded excited even to his own ears, and he had to reach down to stroke himself as you drizzled the clear lube onto your own breasts before tossing the bottle aside. "What are you gonna let me do to you?"

He swallowed hard as you ran both of your hands slowly along your tits until they were glistening. "I'm going to do all the work," you told him. "Just relax." When you went to kneel in front of him, Bradley helped you get down with his hands on your biceps. And then you took his cock between your lips as your silky, slick fingers glided across his balls.

"Fuck," he sighed, enjoying the sight of your shiny breasts, and a second later his length was sandwiched beautifully between them. "Oh my god."

You smiled up at him as you squeezed your tits together until he was grunting loudly, and then you moved your body slowly up and down. He watched his own cock disappear between your breasts and then reappear over and over. He was mesmerized by the smooth glide and the immaculate view he had of your face and chest. 

"Feel good?" you asked, and he nodded like an idiot as he ran his thumb along the perfect curve of your cheek. "You can touch me, Daddy."

"Oh hell." He let his thumb drift down to your nipple as you held him in place and fucked him with your tits until his balls were tight and his leg was shaking. You started kissing at his tip each time it was near your lips, and he had to grab at the bedding to keep himself in check.

After a few more slow movements, you reached for his hands and placed them where yours had been, on the outside of each breast. He squeezed himself in there tight as you said, "Go for it, Roo." Once you were holding onto his thighs to keep yourself steady, Bradley fucked your tits and played with your nipples until he was whining your name. 

He knew the attic renovation had been a great idea, but he was surprised it was paying off so soon. Your body felt magical as he went a little faster, and then he was spurting his cum everywhere. Your chin, lips and chest were painted white with his seed, and it dripped down to your belly as your tongue darted out to taste him. 

"Holy shit," he panted, looking everywhere for his phone. "I need a picture of this."

You reached into the pocket of his shorts which were on the floor and handed it to him. He took pictures of the pretty mess he made, including one where you were rubbing his cum along your skin. The swell of your belly was beautiful with his baby inside, and Bradley moaned as you licked the bead of cum from the tip of his cock. 

"You ready to snuggle?" you asked him, turning to kiss the inside of his thigh.

"Yeah." He really felt like he had it all.

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

In the days leading up to Christmas, Bradley and your dad managed to get the furniture built for the nursery with time to spare. "Can you pick a paint color, Sweetheart?" Bradley asked you on the twenty-third, holding up your final two favorites. "Your dad and I can probably get the room painted tomorrow if we go to the store today."

You looked back and forth between the sky blue sample and the rosy pink sample. "I love them both," you whispered, chewing on the tip of your thumb, indecision washing over you.

Bradley turned them around to look at them and seemed to have the same issue. "I have an idea. Will you let me make the decision?"

"Absolutely," you sighed, pleased that you didn't have to pull that trigger. "Whatever you want."

They sent you out for lunch with your mom and Nat on Christmas eve, which actually turned into a stop at the mall with all of the last minute shoppers. You didn't need to buy anything else, but you helped Nat pick out a few things, and your mom seemed amused. 

When you got home, all of the windows were open because the house smelled like paint, and your dad and Bradley were assembling something on the living room floor that you didn't know had even been purchased. "What's that?" you asked, eyeing your husband who couldn't seem to help but go overboard. "Bradley, I thought I put a cap on your spending for the baby!"

"It's from us," your parents said in unison.

"Oh."

"Oh," Bradley said, jokingly mimicking your voice. "I told you I was going to behave, and I have been behaving."

You leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "It is a chair?"

"Merry Christmas," your mom said. "It's a glider chair for the nursery. It'll be easier to feed her next to her crib so you can put her right back in bed when she's done. Not that my granddaughter will be anything but the sweetest little girl and most amazing sleeper."

Your eyes welled with tears as you hugged her. "Thanks for the overpriced chair. I love it."

Bradley stood with a soft grunt and reached for your hand. "If the smell isn't bothering you too much, can I show you the paint?"

"Yes," you said, wiping your eyes on his undershirt. You were suddenly so overwhelmed by how your parents came out for the holiday, but more than anything they were helping you get things ready for the next stage of life. Bradley led you down the hallway to the closed door and turned the knob. When he flicked the light on, you gasped. Three walls were blue, and the fourth wall was the dusty rose color you liked so much.

"I was thinking we could get the cloud decals for the blue walls and make the rosy wall look like a sunset," he said softly. "That could be pretty, right?"

You were fully crying now as you hugged him. "I think that sounds beautiful."

He kissed you as his hand settled on the sweet spot on your belly where he could usually feel a kick. "I just want my girls happy."

"We're happy with you."

The two of you spent a few minutes looking at the crib and the new dresser and the changing table. The bedding still needed to be washed, but it was folded on top of the dresser, and you ran your hand along the pastel airplanes and clouds. "I can't wait to meet her."

Bradley held you close and said, "I hope she's just like you."

When you finally walked back out to the kitchen, you were still swiping at your tears. Your mom was putting together some simple finger foods for Christmas Eve dinner, and your dad was putting the finishing touches on the new chair. There were Christmas carols playing softly through your wireless speaker, and you just didn't think the tears were going to stop.

You turned to your husband and quietly sobbed, "I wish your parents were here. I think about them so much, and I hate that I never got to meet either one of them."

"Shhh. Don't cry, Sweetheart," he crooned pulling you to his chest again. "I don't want you to cry." He was quiet for a moment as you looked at the tree, your tears turning the lights into a streaky mess. "My mom would have loved you. And she would have been over the moon for the baby. Just like your parents are. I know it's not fair. I think about it every fucking day, but I don't want you to cry when we still have so much."

You clung to him a little tighter as Rosie did a somersault. "You're right."

Your parents didn't seem concerned when Bradley held you a while longer. Then the four of you ate dinner, and you dipped literally everything into your favorite hot sauce. Then you brought the presents out from their hiding spot in the bathroom closet and set them under the tree while Bradley cleaned up the kitchen. Your mom and dad were already fast asleep by the time you climbed into bed and yawned.

"Can I read to you from the Nugget Notebook?" Bradley asked as he pulled the covers back on his side and got in as well.

"Of course," you whispered, tossing your glasses on your nightstand and snuggling up next to him.

He cleared his throat and you drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. "Hey, Rosie. Your mom is so funny. She thinks I've been buying you an exorbitant amount of stuff. She's completely correct. I have been. But you know who's even worse than me? Your grandparents."

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

Bradley never let his expectations get ahead of himself on holidays. He spent two decades mostly on his own, doing very little celebrating. But that was before you. By seven o'clock in the morning, you were yanking him out of bed. When he tried to reach for your belly to say good morning, you swatted his hands away and gave him a quick kiss. "Rosie says Merry Christmas. Now let's get up."

"Jesus," he grunted. "What's the rush, Sweetheart?"

You kissed him again and said, "I promised your cousin Brenda we would FaceTime with her, and it's already late in Virginia."

He just stared at you. Somehow you always remembered everything and everyone. He knew you sent cards to his family members, and he knew Brenda would appreciate talking to the two of you. "You're the sweetest thing," he said as he climbed out of bed. 

He pulled on his gray sweatpants before following you out of the bedroom. Your parents were already up wearing their matching pajamas, and the whole house smelled like cinnamon rolls and coffee. "Merry Christmas," your mom greeted, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and Bradley did a double take when he saw the tree. There were at least twice as many presents there now as when he went to bed. 

"What's this?" he asked. "It actually looks like Santa came."

"Oh, we just brought a few things with us," your mom said. "Things for Rose. And some treats for Tramp."

"Jesus," he muttered as you handed him the iPad. "The baby isn't even here yet, and they just keep getting worse."

You nodded as you dialed Brenda's number, and when she answered, you asked how she was and showed off your bump before handing the call over to Bradley to have a few minutes alone with his mom's favorite cousin. Then he ate six cinnamon rolls and gave himself a stomach ache before it was time to open the enormous pile of presents.

There were onesies and pacifiers and bibs. Toys and a crib mobile that matched the bedding. Bottles and diapers and teething rings and little floral bath towels. Bradley was completely overwhelmed, and he kind of felt terrible when he handed your parents the set of cutting boards and the laser level you and he picked out for them.

"This is for you." He looked up as you held out a box with a smile on your face. "Well, it's for you and for Rosie."

Bradley's heart skipped a beat as you and your parents watched him unwrap a box, and when he pulled the lid off, his face broke out into a huge smile. You and he had matching shirts, and now he'd be able to match with his Nugget, too. "I love it," he said softly, holding up a large shirt and a very small one. The pink floral design was the same color as the bedroom wall he'd just painted yesterday, and the fabric was very soft. "Thank you, Sweetheart." 

He kissed you and handed you the tiny box he had tucked back behind all the others. He felt a little nervous giving it to you with your parents here, but it didn't really matter. They would see it eventually anyway. When you opened the little jewelry box and met his eyes, you said, "Help me put it on." He leaned in closer and unclasped your necklace chain. You wore the airplane charm and the little dog tag that said Baby Girl every day, and now you'd have another one with them. "It's absolutely perfect," you whispered as you slid the gold rose onto the chain.

"Just like my girls," he promised. "When she's old enough, I'll buy one for her, too, so you can match."

"I love you." You mashed your lips against his as you crawled to his lap, and Bradley didn't stop your parents from making a detour to the kitchen to start prepping for dinner.

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

After Christmas dinner, the four of you drove around in the red Bronco to look at lights. You made a quick trip to drop off presents for Jeremiah, and then you and Bradley stopped by to say goodbye to Bob. He looked like he was glued to Maria, so you took that as a good sign.

"I'll never get over the palm trees covered in lights," your mom remarked from the backseat while Christmas music played on the radio.

You played with your new necklace charm as you said, "I think there are a lot of things here that will always look weird to us."

"We're hardy east coast people," Bradley murmured as he turned back onto your street. "Look, they decorated a cactus," he said in disgust, and you started laughing. 

"Is that house for sale?" your dad asked, pointing out the window. "It's hard to tell in the dark."

"Yeah," Bradley replied. "It's been on the market for a few weeks. It looks like it needs a lot of work."

"The last thing we need is a fixer upper," your mom told your dad, and your heart beat a little faster. 

"Dad, are you going to retire?" you asked, too afraid to even ask the more pertinent question on your mind as you played with Bradley's fingers on your lap.

"It's within the realm of possibilities," your dad replied. "Your mom wants to move a little closer to the two of you."

"Three!" she said. "Rose will be here before we know it!"

"The three of you," your dad corrected.

This wasn't the first time this topic had been discussed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. "Are you still thinking California?"

You dad laughed. "Your mom is obsessed with the Coronado housing market."

"Obsessed is a strong word," she said, and you gave Bradley's hand a little squeeze.

"Tell me we just finished the attic for nothing," your husband mumbled as your parents argued in the backseat, but you just leaned in and kissed him.

"Aww, come on, Roo. Rosie can make one of those rooms her bedroom in a few years," you told him. "You know, so there's separation."

He grunted in approval, and then your dad asked, "Could you leave the car keys out for us to drive around a bit in the morning before you take us to the airport? The two of you can sleep in while we check out the area a little bit more."

"Absolutely," you told him as Bradley pulled back into the driveway of your cute Craftsman with all the extra bedrooms and the strings of lights around the windows. Your parents climbed out of the back, but you tugged on Bradley's hand to keep him in place. "Can I have another one of my million orgasms while they're driving around tomorrow morning?"

He ran his rough thumb along your cheek and kissed you. "My Baby Girl can have absolutely anything she fucking wants."

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

Roo gives the best gifts. The nursery is virtually finished and so is the playset. Now we wait for the Nugget to finish cooking. A shower and a babymoon and trouble are on the way soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[loveinhawkins]

When Lucas Sinclair starts to apologise for missing The Cult of Vecna, Eddie initially thinks that he’s hearing things.

Well, actually, the first thing he thinks is something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’

It takes him almost a solid thirty seconds to even vaguely remember his campaign; the last day of school before Spring Break feels dreamlike, as if it happened to someone else, as if he just watched everything through a fogged-up window.

“Jesus, Sinclair. I’ve got an ongoing list of folks who owe me an apology since, like, sixth grade, and trust me, your name’s not on there. Can pretty confidently say it never will, okay?”

Eddie sees Steve tilt his head ever so slightly from where he’s walking just ahead of them, like he’s listening in. Spots his faint nod of approval.

Eddie can’t decide if he resents it or finds it endearing—kind of gets the ridiculous feeling that Steve’s vetting him on behalf of the kids.

“Okay,” Lucas says, and he’s smiling, but there’s a sort of sombreness to it, too. “Still, I should’ve—”

“Hey, hindsight’s twenty-twenty,” Eddie says, firmly cutting off whatever self-critical bullshit he was about to hear. He knocks his shoulder against Lucas’s, adds a dry, “Like, I would’ve been a dick about it no matter what.”

Lucas laughs, but it’s muted. Then he takes a deep breath, and Eddie suddenly realises that he must’ve been using the apology to get himself started, to work himself up to what he really wanted to say.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about Jason and… I thought I’d thrown them all off the trail, but—”

“Oh, don’t—don’t worry about it, man,” Eddie says faintly.

There’s a flash of Jason in his mind’s eye, the savage twist of his lip as he ran into the lake; he thinks of Lucas lying to his face, the danger of him being found out, and feels sick.

“Seriously, you could’ve told them… y’know. Wouldn’t have held it against you.”

Eddie doesn’t mention that him getting caught still feels inevitable, like he’s just waiting for the walls to close in.

But right now, at least, he can breathe a little easier. The shire might be burning, but there’s people leading him through it. He’s not alone.

Lucas looks appalled. “What? No, I couldn’t—I couldn’t do that to you.”

It’s said with such conviction that Eddie has to fight through a sudden tightness in his throat—doesn’t really know what to do in the face of such undeserved loyalty.

He settles on saying, “So, how was the game?” which is embarrassingly inadequate, but a genuine question nevertheless; the past few… Jesus, however long it’s been, he’s been in permanent need of a distraction.

Steve slows his walking pace—to anyone else it might’ve seemed subtle, but Eddie’s used to noticing such things. He somehow gets the feeling that Steve is no longer scrutinising him, not exactly; his posture’s relaxed and open, his forehead free of frown lines.

It’s more like he’s simply curious about Eddie’s behaviour. The way his eyes drift over, then down to the forest floor, then back again silently seems to say what are you thinking?

Or maybe Eddie’s projecting because he asks the very same question whenever a muscle jumps in Steve’s jaw.

“Oh, um…” Lucas says hesitantly. “I was on the bench for most of it, so—”

“Quit being modest.” The quiet whir of a tape being rewound; Max Mayfield comes up to Lucas’s side. “He made the winning shot,” she tells Eddie pointedly. “It was a buzzer-beater.”

“Oh, holy shit. Well done, dude.”

From the way Lucas is staring at Max with wide eyes, it’s obvious that he’s barely registered what Eddie’s said.

“How do you know that?” he asks. “You… you weren’t at the game.”

“I, uh.” Max looks down for a moment, fiddling with the headphones around her neck. “I listened to it on the radio.”

Lucas smiles so brightly. There’s an earnestness to him; Eddie spotted it a mile away, ever since that first day back at school, when all the new freshmen were anxiously lining up to get lunch.

Max softens—her arms are still folded, but she drifts a little closer to Lucas as they walk, all studied casualness.

(Oh, Eddie’s been there before: forced to run track in middle school Phys Ed, and the only saving grace was ‘just so happening’ to run at the same pace as any boy who’d smile at him.)

Eddie catches Steve’s eye, and this time Steve gives him a very deliberate expression, nodding fondly at Max and Lucas.

Look at them, he’s saying with his eyes, as if he and Eddie are on the same team, as if Eddie at all deserves to be let in on whatever shared history Steve has with these kids.

Eddie kicks at a stray twig. You’re not going to get a lump in your throat about this, damn it, don’t be stupid.

“S’gonna be historic, Sinclair,” he says. “Last time the Tigers won a championship was, uh, lemme think… twenty-two years ago.”

Lucas stops in his tracks.

“I know that,” he says, eyes shrewd, “but why do you know?”

Eddie raises his hands with a grin, it wasn’t me, officer. “What, I can’t repeat a few years without retaining a little school knowledge?”

“Oh,” Lucas says, and it’s like Eddie can see him mentally replaying every cafeteria speech. He grins back. “So you’re a hypocrite.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says. He glances further afield, where Dustin is animatedly explaining something to Robin and Nancy. “I know you’re not gonna give me shit for it, though.”

“Huh, guess you don’t really know me,” Lucas says, and Max snorts.

Eddie smirks. “And it’s, like, doubly historic since the last person to score a buzzer-beater was—”

He cuts himself off, because Steve abruptly turns to him, like they’re in alliance, and draws a hand sharply across his neck.

But Lucas is already hooked. “What? Who was it?”

Eddie gives Steve a helpless shrug. Sorry, man.

“I’m looking right at him,” he says.

Lucas rounds on Steve. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because,” Steve says, flustered, “that was your thing, Lucas, I didn’t wanna be all…”

He trails off with a vague hand gesture, and Eddie thinks he somehow gets what he means—smiles at the thoughtfulness of it.

“That makes, like, no sense,” Lucas says vehemently. His eyes practically have stars in them. “Damn it, we shoulda got a photo.”

Steve laughs in surprise. “All right, noted.”

“I mean, Wheeler works for the school paper, right?” Eddie says. “They’ve probably got old issues. Hey, Sinclair, you could have, y’know, side-by-side photos. Yours and then…” He waves a hand at Steve. “Ancient history.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Ancient, sure.”

“Oh, Lucas,” Max says, batting her eyes excessively, “I’d frame a picture of you. Pray to it every night.”

Lucas blushes. “Shut up,” he says, elbowing her gently; Eddie thinks that it’s the first time he’s heard Max Mayfield laugh.

Steve’s watching over them again, and his eyes go pensive when Lucas mumbles something like, “I wouldn’t mind a frame.”

The expression Steve has is something Eddie’s only seen once before, and it was on Wayne’s face. Eddie had privately dubbed it the ‘found something for your birthday’ look when he’d noticed it: him and Wayne on a road trip, Eddie not so secretly mooning over the secondhand acoustic guitar in the shop window.

“Your picture should be bigger, Sinclair,” Steve says, sounding both teasing and sincere. “My shot didn’t win a Championship Game.” In an undertone, he adds, “As Brenda so helpfully reminded me.”

Oh, Eddie’s not letting that go.

“Do mine ears deceive me? Did you take a date to a high school basketball game?” Eddie cackles. “You sure know how to woo ‘em, Harrington.”

“Hey,” Steve says defensively, “she could only make that day. Told her I had non-negotiable plans: it was either the game or it was a bust.”

Huh, Eddie thinks, that’s actually… really sweet.

Lucas looks torn between being embarrassed or touched. “You didn’t need to do that, Steve.”

“Sure I did. C’mon, you thought I was gonna go to every match and then miss the Championship?” Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Where was Erica, anyway?”

… Ah.

“Mea culpa,” Eddie says. “She was, uh, at Hellfire.”

Lucas scoffs. “It’s fine,” he says. “Last time she was at a game, she kept shouting that she loved my tactics.” He looks out into the middle distance. “I was on the bench the whole time.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah, I missed her being there.” He’s sporting a smile that’s somehow the perfect balance of fond and mischievous; it, quite frankly, has no business looking as attractive as it does. “We had, um, alternative commentary for every game. That kid should have a radio show.” He comes closer, adds in another aside, “Would’ve made the date more bearable if she was there.”

Eddie stifles a laugh, has a moment of respectful silence for Brenda.

Max and Lucas cut in front, keep walking until they’re almost out of earshot; Eddie hears Lucas faintly say something that sounds like, “Was I totally tubular?”, soon drowned out by Max’s laughter.

There’s a short silence.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says suddenly.

Eddie blinks at him, quickly turns his genuine confusion into a bit. “What for, Harrington? My devastating wit? Devilish good looks?”

Steve shakes his head. He smiles for a moment, in on the joke, but then he looks over at Lucas and Max again, and… there.

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“It’s just… they’ve got a lot to carry, y’know? So…” He shrugs. “Thanks.”

It’s said so quietly, so without fanfare.

Eddie’s hit with the realisation between one footstep and the next: that he’s earned Steve Harrington’s trust.

It feels… weighty.

But Eddie doesn’t mind it; he doesn’t think it’s going to crush his ribs. If anything it feels like they’re sharing a load.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, Harrington.”

Steve smiles, pushing back his hair; Eddie’s brought back to the moment he did the very same on the basketball court, just as the ball sunk through the net, and Eddie decided fuck it, wholeheartedly embracing his hypocrisy as he jumped up and down with the band kids.

I cheered so goddamn loud for you, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t say it.

But he keeps walking next to Steve. Feels a little young, a little bit like he’s running track—checking his pace just so he could see a boy smile at him.

[thealtoduck]

Forbidden Fruit

Theon Greyjoy x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut, Theon in his asshole era, anal sex, loss of virginity, doggy style, use of the word ”whore”, Theon referring to your ass as a ”cunt”, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding, spit as lube, everyone kinda wants to fuck you too…

Summary: Theon has his eyes set on you and wants to be your first…

——

The sounds swords clanging against each other rang out over the courtyard of Winterfell as Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark practised their swordfighting. Both of them in full focus on the task of beating the others.

Theon was just about to land a winning strike when someone behind Robb distracted him, stealing his focus. A beautiful young man, Y/n Poole, the son of the steward of Winterfell. Theon was distracted just long enough for Robb to be able to knock him to the ground.

”Come on Theon, keep your eyes on your opponent” Robb said annoyed and turned to see what Theon had been looking at, his eyes landing on you. ”Y/n, the steward’s son?” Robb questioned his friend. ”I’ve heard one of the chefs claim he took his virginity but he was drunk so i think he might have lied” Robb gossiped as he continued looking at you.

”I wouldn’t mind fucking him myself” he then said to the annoyance of Theon. ”Oh please, is the little lord Robb Stark gonna fuck the steward’s son?” Theon mocked him. ”He needs someone to take his boy cunt like the little whore he is” Theon said looking hungrily towards you as you were talking to a couple of castle guards.

”And that’s going to be you?” Robb questioned sarcastically. But Theon wasn’t listening he was already planning.

——

That night during dinner…

Theon watched you as you sat next to Jon, chatting cheerfully. Theon needed to catch you alone. Luckily for him he’d get his shot soon… You were also sat next to Sansa Stark which put you in the crossfire between her and her sister Arya’s never ending war.

Arya loaded her spoon with a piece of meat pie and launched it towards Sansa… but she missed hitting your chest, dirtying your light grey tunic. ”Arya! Look what you did?!” Sansa scolded her younger sister. ”I’m so sorry about her” Sansa apologised frantically as she tried to wipe of your shirt with a cloth napkin.

”Don’t worry about it Lady Sansa, i’ll just go change” you said calmly, standing up from the table and walking off. Theon saw this was his chance to finally meet you alone.

He soon managed to sneak away from the the dining hall. He stopped by the kitchens and snagged two goblets and a pitcher of wine, then he made his way through Winterfell castle towards the small part occupied by Steward of Winterfell and his family.

He knocked on the door he knew belonged to you. ”One moment” came your voice from the inside. Then the door opened revealing you in a nightshirt and underwear, you quickly wrapped yourself in a thin blue robe to cover up more for you’re unexpected visitor.

”Theon” you said happily at sight of him. ”Sorry, i’m not more properly dressed i was just about to go to bed” you said tying your robe. ”Oh no worries” he said with a flirty smile, you were gonna be even less dressed once he was done with you.

”How can i help you?” you asked. ”Oh, i just wondered if you’d like to have quick drink with me” he said holding up the pitcher and the two goblets he brought. You looked unsure. ”If your not too tired of course” he quickly added.

”Of course, a drink wouldn’t hurt” you said and held open the door for him, letting him in to your bed chamber. Theon observed the room, it was smaller than his own. It had a small square window with a nice view. A little fire place where a fire was burning, heating up the cold castle room.

A square table with a set of two chairs and a clothing chest right next to it. And finally the bed, which was draped in soft blankets. Above it hung a banner for your House, House Poole. The room was textbook definition of what Theon would describe as cozy.

You sat down in one of the chairs by the table, as Theon put the goblets on the table, pouring wine in each and then putting the pitcher down. He sat down in the other chair, you both grabbed your goblets. ”Cheers” Theon said and you clinked your goblets together and drank.

The two of you talked for a while. Theon decided to start testing the waters. He moved his leg slightly making it rest against yours, your eyes drifted to his leg for half a second before you looked back to him but you didn’t move away.

Time passed as you told Theon a story, once you finished it became quiet through the chamber. ”You’re really pretty you know” Theon stated boldly filling the silence in the room. Before you had time to respond Theon started talking ”Some of the staff has been talking about it, how they want to fuck you. Even the lordling Robb Stark said so”.

”And i understand them, you are very pretty” he continued. You looked rather unsure what to answer. ”Tell me Y/n, have you ever been fucked before?” Theon asked shamelessly, leaning closer to you. ”I… no, i have not” you told him, trying to stay casual.

”Would you like to be?” Theon then asked immodestly, leaving you slightly stunned. ”By-…By you?” you asked, Theon gave you a smirk as comformation. ”I-I wouldn’t know what to do” you said shyly. Theon played with the strings of your night shirt and said ”Don’t worry, i’ll show you”.

He then pulled you in to a kiss, his lips pushing hungrily against yours. Theon pulled you both up from your seats leading you to the middle of the room as you made out. Theon pulled of your robe, then his own jacket and he continued until you were both left naked in front of each other.

Your dick had gotten erected from Theon’s sudden interest in you and it made Theon’s own manhood swell with pride. He took your wrist in his hand and guided your hand over his slightly fuzzy chest down to his erect manhood. It was the first time you had ever touched another man in such a manner.

He made you enclose your fingers around his hardend cock and tug at it a little, rubbing him off slowly. ”Feel what you do to me Y/n” he uttered.

He led you backwards towards your beds and your naked bodies climbed up on it. Theon laid you down on the bed and the two of you passionately made out. Theon moved his hands to you ass and let his fingers graze against your hole.

You were unfamiliar with his action as you had never experienced it before but let Theon continue. He slowly started pushing his finger inside you, making you audibly gasp against his lips at the feeling of being streched out. ”That’s right relax” Theon instructed.

Once he added next finger he did it more hastily, making you yelp quietly. Theon let out a small chuckle ”Such a warm nice cunt for me to fuck” Theon said before shoving in a third finger.

Theon then stood up on his knees, he grabbed you and positioned you on all fours, ass spread out in front of him. He spit in to his own hand rubbing it on his manhood. ”I’m gonna take you like a real lord would” Theon said which you wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a warning.

Theon didn’t waste any time and started pushing his rockhard cock inside your virgin hole, making you groan, feeling yourself be filled. ”Fuck your tight around my cock” Theon said pleasureably sheathing himself fully inside you.

Before you had time to adjust he snapped his hips forwards thrusting into you making you release a small cry. ”Was this what he had meant? Was this how lords fucked their wives?” you thought to yourself.

Theon grabbed your hips and started setting a pace a his hips thrust against your ass. His raw cock forcing your walls to stretch, you released several whines as Theon roughly plowed in to you. ”Fuck Theon, you’re so big” you said through your pained but pleasured moans.

Theon grabbed your head as he pounded your ass saying ”What would your steward father say? Seeing his son deflowered by Eddard’s Stark ward like some common whore”. As he thrusted as hard in to you as his body would let him.

”Maybe i should go get him after this and make him come look at his son’s cum stained body” Theon said cockily. You however couldn’t answer him as you had your face pressed against the matress moaning endlessly from the ecstasy of Theon’s cock fucking you.

”Maybe i should start coming by every night and make good use of your cunt and fill you with my seed” he suggested, his thrusts rocking your bed back and forth. ”Shame you can’t have my bastards” he added.

From the endless groans to the creaking bed, you hoped no one could hear you getting your virginity fucked out of you by Theon. You felt your own cock twitching getting close to your orgasm. ”I’m gonna cum” you moaned. And soon after your load dripped down on the sheets below.

Theon kept plowing in to you for several minutes, claiming your ass as his. Sweat glazed his and your body as the room had gotten hot and damp. He grunted and uttered a satisfied ”I’m gonna fill you with my cum”.

With one last rough thrust Theon shoved his manhood deep inside you, his cock erupting staining your innocene with his warm seed. He then pulled out of you with a smirk, seeing his cum leak out of puckered hole and running down your legs. You collapsed on to the matress below in exhaustion.

Theon was just about to get ready to leave but he couldn’t leave you like this. He covered your nakedness under the covers and blankets. He then started getting dressed and before he left planted a kiss on your forehead saying ”You were so good to me, Y/n, better than any common whore, you were divine”. He then gave you a last kiss before he left your bed chambers with a smirk and a feeling of satisfaction, and maybe even a little bit of love.

[foreingersgod]

Reader is best friends and played basketball with Caitlin in highschool and was really good. Ended up going to Iowa State bc Iowa was more focused on recruiting Caitlin. Reader transfers to Iowa and she and Kate are instantly smitten with eachother, but they are both very oblivious to the other’s feelings. Que Caitlin having to step in as wingwoman for her two idiot best friends

Smitten . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: kate takes a liking to you and caitlin plays wingman

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“are you ready for your first day?” caitlin sing songed as you guys got into her car.

“ready, but nervous” you said from the passengers seat, duffel bag at your feet as you chewed at your fingers anxiously.

“you’ll be great, everyone is going to love you”

“how do you know?” buildings and other cars rushed passed in a blur as you looked out the window.

“because you’re my best friend” she looked over to you briefly “and i know the girls, they’re gonna see exactly what i see in you, ok? don’t worry”

you nodded while still trying to distract yourself with the commotion outside. it was going to be your first day on the team with iowa, having transferred there just recently. you had played basketball with a different school but you felt limited and a bit far from home (and your best friend) and had decided that going to iowa would be best. caitlin was ecstatic to have you join the team, and you were too, but having to meet new people was always difficult for you. playing with a whole different group was going to be a big adjustment.

the car ride felt longer than it should have until you arrived at the gym. caitlin escorted you through the doors to show you around and get settled. she led you to the locker room, getting you acquainted with your designated locker.

you unloaded the contents of your bag and organized everything in hopes that it would make you feel more at home. it didn’t really do much, but at least it looked like you fit in. while you were finishing everything, lacing up your shoes and freshening up, caitlin hung around to talk to you. she gave you the full run down of drills and schedules for practices.

“and i think you’re really gonna like the-” caitlin said, pausing when the doors to the room opened “oh, hey kate!”

kate? caitlin mentioned her once or twice

“we were just about to head out to meet you guys,” you watched caitlin speak as a tall blonde came around the corner. she was already suited up in uniform, hair pulled back into a messy braid. she walked over to where you stood near the lockers “but since you’re here, this is the newest addition to the team! kate, this is my friend YN, YN this is kate!”

she looked down at you, being a few inches taller, and you blushed almost instantly. her smile was contagious, lips pulled tightly into a grin. there was a comforting look in her eyes as well, they flickered as she studied you.

“hi” she breathed, tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip “it’s really nice to meet you”

“yea, you too” you swallowed hard as her gaze shifted from your face to the rest of your body, lingering on your shorter figure.

she had muttered something to caitlin along the lines of i’ll see you guys out there, before abruptly leaving the locker room without another word. you couldn’t really place it, but there was something about her that made your heart flutter.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

“come on, YLN” kate taunted you playfully from behind you. you hate just attempted a 3 point shot and failed miserably. you might have been good at layups, but in all honesty you weren’t very good at deeper shots “you can do better than that!”

“i just can’t seem to get my form right, like i don’t know, there’s something wrong” you sighed, fetching the ball. “i don’t know how you and caitlin make those”

“mind if i…?” she trailed motioning to the ball, you nodded and passed it to her.

“be my guest”

the ball bounced off the court and into her hands with ease, fingers pressing into it gently to get a good grip on it. you stared, admittedly, as the veins along her wrists strained when she grabbed it. kate took a step back off the line, knees bending and getting into the perfect form for a 3. her tongue stuck out slightly, a habit you quickly noticed she had, as she took her shot. and of course, it fell through the net with ease.

“see,” she scrunched her nose, turning back to you “easy!”

“yea ok” you scoffed and rolled your eyes

“i think it’s just your form” kate tried to reassure you “your arms aren’t in the right place”

she bounced the ball back to you, telling you to try again but to change the way your elbow was angled. despite changing the entire position of your arm, kate still told you that it wasn’t right.

“i can show you, if you’d like?” she shuffled behind you again.

“it would be much appreciated” you sighed, frustrated that you couldn’t do this on your own.

body hovering against yours, kate extended her arms around you to place her right arm underneath yours. she she held the underside of your elbow in her hand to demonstrate where your arm needed to be, left hand guiding yours to the ball. she was now almost completely pressed against you, so close that you could feel her breathe tickle the hairs of your neck.

“just like this, see” it came across as a whisper, her mouth inches from your ear. she helped you make a practice shot, arms still guiding yours. “annnnddd-yea! you got it!”

her voice wavered, realizing she was still cradling your arms. she stepped away from you, a sad sigh threatening to spill from you at the loss of contact.

“you’re like a natural” she smiled awkwardly, scratching at the back of her neck.

“because of you” your cheeks heated up “thanks, kate”

“no problem”

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

it was 7pm on a thursday, blankets on the couch and a pizza box in front of you. you and caitlin had made it a habit to do weekly movie nights at your apartment since your transfer. when everything got hectic on the team, you both wanted to make sure to keep your friendship strong outside of basketball.

“i don’t want to go to practice tomorrow” you mumbled through a mouthful of pizza as the credits to the movie rolled.

“why not?” cait shut off the tv “you’ll get to see kate again!”

you furrowed your eyebrows “what are you talking about? i’ll get to see everyone”

“yea, but especially kate” she said, matter of factly.

“why are you being weird? did kate do something, im confused?”

“oh come on” she put her slice of pizza back in the box, closing it. she leaned back against the arm of your couch as she nudged your shoulder “you really don’t know what i’m talking about?”

“uh, no”

“YN, you’re like in love with her” a coy smile made its way on her lips as you stuttered to find a response.

“what?” you almost choked on your slice of pizza “i’m not! what makes you say that?!”

“you’re always touching up on each other and looking at each from across the room. the sexual tension is like, through the roof”

“you’re crazy”

“be real, YN” she sat up fully, looking you in the eyes “you can sit here and lie and say that…but we all see it. and kate does too, i bet she’s just been waiting for you to say something”

and oh did caitlin know what she was doing. she knew that kate felt the exact same way. when they’d hang out after practice, have a pep talk, anytime you weren’t around caitlin would do the same thing. she’d sneak in comments about you and say how you were practically begging for kate to say something. it was all a plan, convince you both to speak up about your true hidden feelings and then BAM! you’d be dating in no time.

you said nothing, looking down into your lap as you picked at your nails anxiously. you’ve definitely always liked kate, more than any of the other girls, but you had just assumed it was a close friendship. the touches and the glances that caitlin talked about were certainly there, but that was normal wasn’t it?

so all you did was shake your head, making up some excuse as to why you were just friends. then you quickly shooed caitlin out before retiring to your room for the night, laying awake thinking about what she had said. maybe she was right, maybe you needed to face your true feelings and talk to kate.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

tonight marked your one year of playing with iowa and making some of your closest friends. in honor of this milestone, you and the team were going out to celebrate. they had insisted on going out to dinner at a nice restaurant just downtown from your apartment.

you wore your nicest clothes, cleanest shoes, and used all your expensive products to make sure you looked great. the hours leading up to the dinner, you were absolutely beaming with joy. the girls had taken you under their wing and taught you so many things so you were really excited to celebrate tonight.

dinner was an absolute dream. the girls had made it such a wonderful night; there was good food, good conversation, and a few of them had even got you a little something to tell you how happy they are to have you as a friend. after finishing up your meals and paying, everyone started to wind down for the night and slowly dwindle out. you, caitlin, and kate were the last ones to leave. it was growing late and you were ready to go home, planning on just walking back to your place.

“i’m gonna dip,” caitlin pulled her keys from her pocket “kate do you want a ride back?”

“no i-uh, i think i’m gonna hang back, you go ahead” she said as caitlin walked over to the parking lot. kate glanced over at you nervously as you pulled your jacket around your shoulders.

“i thought you and caitlin carpooled? are you sure you don’t need a ride?”

“really, i’m fine. i was actually hoping i could walk with you?” she sucked in a breath “if that’s ok, i kinda wanted to talk to you…in private”

you nodded, “oh! yea of course!”

flashbacks of the movie night with caitlin last week flooded your brain. you thought of how you laid awake, thinking of how you were going to tell kate how you felt. the fear of being rejected made it hard for you to find a time to confess, you had been waiting for months now to do it.

maybe this is a sign you thought.

the sky was a deepening blue as the sun was finally setting, stars twinkling brightly. the air was starting to cool as you and kate began walking down the street to your apartment. there was a decent distance between the two of you, walking silently next to each other.

“so, what did you want to talk about?” you began.

“right,” she muttered, scratching the back of her neck “i don’t really know how to…how to say this”

she stopped abruptly on the sidewalk causing you to become worried. you stopped as well, trying to read her face for some sort of emotion.

“just say what feels right, you can tell me anything, you know”

you pulled your jacket tight around you in an attempt to shield your body from the cold. you watched as kate looked down at the ground then back at you, irises looking into yours. he nose was red, probably from the cold or maybe it was from all the sniffling. you couldn’t tell if she was crying or nervous, but you felt extremely worried. was she actually sad? had you done something wrong?

“YN, i…” she bit her lip, another sniffle taking over her “i really like you. like more than just friends”

suddenly the world stop, your heart stopped beating in your chest. it wasn’t just you who had the idea, it seemed.

“and before you say anything, i just want you to know that no matter how you feel, i won’t be mad. i don’t want this to ruin our friendship or make things awkward, but i just had to tell you. i don’t think i could’ve kept it to myself for much-”

“kate stop talking” you blurted out breathlessly, stumbling towards her slim figure.

your body collided with hers, making you both wobble backwards. shaking hands found a comfortable place on the sides of kate’s face as you pulled her into you, lips fitting onto hers. naturally, she was surprised, eyes flickering shut as she melted into you. her hands gripped the sides of your waist, keeping you close to her.

“i really like you, too” you pulled away, gasping for air.

“oh thank god” she let her forehead fall against yours “i know i said i wouldn’t be mad, but it would have been horrible if you had said no”

“you don’t have to ever worry about that” a small laugh escaped from your lips.

there was a slight moment between you, something peaceful and serene. a moment where you just started at each other and smiled, foreheads still touching, bodies still pressed together. she closed her eyes, shaking her head with a smile.

“what?”

“nothing,” kate stepped back, taking a hold of your hand “it’s gonna sound weird, but caitlin was the one who told me to say something to you. and i thought she was crazy because i didn’t think you’d have any feels for me like that, but here we are”

“wait, caitlin told you that i probably had feelings for you too?” you said.

“yea, she was insistent that i talk to you, why?”

“because,” you smacked your palm to your head in astonishment “she’s been pestering me for months to admit that i was ‘in love with you’”

kate smirked, throwing her head back and laughing. she seemed so content, despite being here in the freezing cold on a silent road in the middle of the night. she seemed relaxed and satisfied, she was glowing.

“wow,” her hair moved gracefully as she shook her head “our wing-woman, huh?”

“yea i guess so” you returned her smile, forcing yourself into her arms.

you had asked her (so sweetly that she couldn’t possibly say no) to come home with you. neither of you had any idea where the night was taking you, but you were both too exhilarated to let it end.

thank god for caitlin.

[hunterscabin]

Everything Goes Wrong

Summary: Dean is there to comfort his little sister after she suffers a fatal injury while hunting.

Pairings: Dean x Sister!Reader; Sam x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Angst; hurt/comfort; whump; death

Word Count: 1.3k 

Author’s Note: Requested from anonymous many moons ago. 

Dean. He was running toward you, screaming your name. You couldn’t comprehend his urgency; the leviathan were dead, the fight was over.

It all happened so quickly. You walked into a battle already underway. A small group of hunters also trailing the levis were first to arrive at the hideout, complicating an already dicey hunt. At the sight of their chaotic fighting, it became immediately clear that none of them had the tact or skill of a Winchester. Your brothers took action, causing two of the chompers to flee. Dean tossed one of the rookie hunters a sack of crude borax bombs and instructed them to capture the runaways. Sam crossed the warehouse, distracting one of the remaining leviathan. Dean took advantage of his brother’s diversion, driving the righteous, blood soaked bone he brandished deep into her skull.

On the other side of the abandoned stockroom, you were taking a beating from the last leviathan. He had been momentarily stunned by the bottle of borax you smashed over him, but his resiliency was remarkable. Almost immediately regaining his composure, he flung you into a pile of scrap metal. You scrambled to your feet, unsheathing your knife in the process. He made quick work of disarming you before effortlessly pinning you against a steel support beam. You winced, preparing for the worst, when suddenly, he retreated. Your eyes opened to find Sam impaling him with the bone several yards away.

High off the action, your entire body pulsed with energy. Or was it throbbing? Normally, the adrenaline of a hunt didn’t make you this… this… what was this feeling? You heard Dean shout your name again. Why did he sound so strange? A warmth spread across your stomach, and you looked down to find a mess of red. Blood? Your blood. Soaking your clothes and pooling at your feet. Bewilderment washed over you as your fingers wrapped around the handle of your blade. 

Just as Dean reached your side, your legs buckled. He braced your fall and carefully lowered you to the ground.

"Sammy!" Your eldest brother’s voice was gruff and full of urgency.

Consumed with killing the leviathan, Sam had been unaware of the commotion behind him. When he turned to see you bleeding in Dean’s arms, Sam shot up and sprinted toward you. He landed hard on his knees in front of Dean.

"Just the knife?" Sam’s eyes darted rapidly up and down your trembling form, trying to assess the damage.

Not wanting to speak the words, Dean nodded, his expression telling Sam the severity of your injuries.

“The car’s too far.” Dean thought aloud.

Sam wrestled with his next move. He didn’t want to leave you. He knew your chances of surviving were slim. He heard it in Dean’s tone. He saw it on your bloodstained clothes. Still, if there was even the slightest chance of saving you, he had to try.

“I’ll see if I can catch up with the other hunters.”

Both men knew it wouldn’t be enough, but it was the best Sam had to offer. Dean nodded reluctantly.

As your brothers’ muffled voices became more clear, so did your reality. The once dull pressure was now a searing pain. Your body screamed and your face contorted.

"Y/N, look at me.” Your eyes, wide with fear and confusion, found Sam’s. "You're gonna be okay. I’m going to get help.” 

Sam leaned forward and pressed a long kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right back, Y/N/N. I promise.”

Through a large, broken window, Dean watched Sam tear across the field and into the nearby woods. When he glanced back at you in his arms, your eyes were closed.

"Y/N, you gotta stay awake." Dean gently shook you until your gaze met his. "That's my girl."

"So tired, De." Your groggy voice begged for sleep.

"I know you are, kiddo, but I need you to keep your eyes on me.”

"Too hard,” you murmured, “Can’t do it."

"Yes you can, sweetheart." Dean was no longer able to mask his concern. "How can I help, Y/N/N? Tell me what to do."

Your brother’s desperation lifted the fog numbing your senses, and you clearly understood what you hadn’t before; you were dying. Anyone else would panic at this realization, beg their God for more time, cling to the last bit of life and fight. Not you. You woke every morning knowing this was a possibility. Saving people, hunting things; it was a dangerous road.

You weren’t bitter; no matter how menacing, your days were full of purpose, and that wasn’t something most people could say. You weren’t afraid; years of close calls had prepared you for this moment. You were, however, insurmountably saddened by the fact that Dean had to watch you die. You knew he would bear the weight of your absence completely despondent and guilt ridden. There was so much you wanted to say to ease his inevitable grief, but talking had grown increasingly difficult as words and breath eluded you. The most you could do was take the hand of solace Dean extended. You silently prayed that would be enough. 

"Tell me a story."

Dean smiled. Between your sleepy eyes and the way you were curled in his arms, it felt like you were little again.

“Have I ever told you about the day mom and dad brought you home from the hospital?”

You shook your head “No.”

“Sammy was not happy.” Dean gave a weak laugh remembering how ornery his brother had been. 

“He locked himself in his room. I tried to tell him that having a little sibling wasn’t all bad, but he wouldn’t listen. Dad had to take his door off the hinges to get him out.”

“He loves’me now.” you noted dreamily.

“He sure does.” Dean agreed, furrowing at your slurred speech. Another sign that your body was succumbing to its injuries. 

“That phase lasted less than an hour,” he continued. 

“Wha’happn’d?”

“He held you.” Dean’s voice was thick with nostalgia. “Mom convinced him. He sat in Dad’s chair, and she laid you in his lap. He wasn’t sure at first, but then you smiled.” 

Despite your pain, a contented grin eased across your face. 

“Just like that.” 

“D’d you hold me?”

Dean nodded. “You were so small, but I swear your eyes were as big and Y/E/C as they are now. I stared at you for hours. I never wanted to let you go.” I still don’t want to let you go. 

Dean paused to clear the sadness from his throat, but he was losing the battle against his emotions. He could see your eyes growing dim and feel your skin getting cold. You didn’t have much longer. 

“I love you so much, Y/N/N.” Dean’s words were short and breathless. 

“I love you too.” 

Dean pulled you closer and placed a warm hand on the side of your face. 

“De?” A small, crimson spot appeared at the corner of your mouth. “C’n I close m’eyes, now?"

At once, Dean felt everything and nothing. He knew the instant your eyes closed, he’d never see them again. He cursed himself for bringing you on such a risky hunt. He cursed himself for not keeping a better eye on you during the fight. He cursed Sam for still being gone. Not because he thought his younger brother would bring anything or anyone to save you, but because he knew how broken he’d be, returning to find his little sister asleep forever. He wanted to shake you, to scream, to do everything in his power to ensure your heavy lids didn’t fall, but he refrained. He knew this would be the last comfort he could ever give you. Dean surrendered to his heartache and let you slip from this world.

"Yeah, baby girl. You can rest now. I’ve got you.”

Masterlist

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Safe Place | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> It’s your and Steve’s anniversary but he looks kinda distracted, when he has a nightmare he tells you what’s going on in his mind.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 846

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (T) PTSD, Bucky falling from the train, nightmare, angst, fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> hili! I was thinking on maybe a one-shot with this one? Maybe Steve and his girl meeting on the Smithsonian? and a few months later when the relationship is going well, she helps with him a nightmare bc of his PTSD? Steve is pretty shaken up and only her can calm him down? Maybe he had a nightmare from when Bucky fell of the train and just keeps getting worse and worse? @rogersbarber

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the idea for that oneshot. Enjoy and hope you like what I made with it.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | March 26 | Theme: On your left | The Smithsonian, First Meetings, Endurance, Mission, PTSD, Favourite Quote | @catws-anniversary

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

"Either one of you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil," Natasha says with a smirk, looking out of the window of her car. Steve rolls his eyes and groans, frustrated, while Sam bursts out laughing.

They just finished their morning run, and Steve was once again faster than the dark-haired man. He just passed the other man, smirking and saying his favorite morning line, while Sam tried to convince him with a lot of no's not to say that line. 'On your left.' Steve said and ran faster, around the corner. Sam tried his best to run after Steve, but he was way slower than the super soldier. Now they are standing next to each other under a tree, looking at Natasha, who waits for Steve. The blond man smirks at Sam and makes his way to the car, opening the door, and then he gets into it.

"Come on, Grandpa. Don't have the whole day," she says, rolling her eyes playfully.

Steve nods towards Sam. When he closes the door and looks out of the window, Sam laughs and nods back.

"Can't walk everywhere," Steve says before Natasha drives away.

// Divider //

After the mission they had that day, Steve went another day to the Smithsonian; he heard a lot from there, and then he was back, back in the 40's, back where the small boy from Brooklyn turned into Captain America. When Steve walked a few meters through the museum, a little boy immediately recognized him, and his small eyes widened. The boy started smiling, but before he could tell his parents about Captain America in the Smithsonian, Steve lifted his finger and held it in front of his lips, showing the boy to be quiet. Later that day, Steve accidentally crashed into you. You threw your whole coffee over his shirt, and he asked you out to get a new one. After that, the two of you dated each other, got closer and closer, and now you're living with him in a small apartment.

Every anniversary, the two of you go out to the Smithsonian and get a coffee in the coffee shop you did when you first met. So you did today, but something was different. Steve wasn't as happy as he used to be. He stood the whole time in front of the memorial with Bucky and watched the movies a few times. Steve's eyes were red and teary when you went back home, but when you asked him what was wrong, he just said he was fine. You're lying next to him in bed, staring at the ceiling, while you listen to the heavy breaths of your boyfriend. He turns from one side to the other, and sweat covers his forehead.

"Stevie? Wake up; you're fine. It's just a nightmare," you mumble and turn yourself toward him.

You let your fingers slide through his hair, moving them out of his face, while you lean closer to kiss him softly. Steve groans softly, opening his eyes slowly. His eyes are red, and some tears fall down his cheek. Before you can say something, he sobs quietly. His hands are clinging to the sheets when he looks through the room before he looks at you.

"Princess?"

"Yes, I'm here."

Steve sighs softly, running his hand through his hair. Then he inhales deeply and grips you by your waist, pulling you on top of him. You place your chin on his broad chest, looking up at Steve.

"Do you want to tell me what happened in your dream?" Steve inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a moment before he exhales and opens his eyes again.

Even when it's dark, you can see his steel-blue eyes. The room was slightly brightened by the moon.

"It was- Bucky was there; we were on the train, and then there was the big guy, and Bucky was suddenly thrown out of the train. He was clinging there- there at the edge of the train and tried to reach for his hand, but I-I just didn't get it, and he fell," Steve says, and you kiss his chest, calming him down slowly. "A-And since that one mission, I-I feel like I heard someone mention that Hydra found a man in the Alps in the 40's. And they said he is now the most powerful weapon from Hydra. The Winter Solider. B-Bucky could be He could be alive. I need to find him.”

You move your hand over his shoulders, his heart racing against his ribcage.

"We will find him, but first you need to calm down. Then we eat breakfast, and then we're talking with Nat and Sam to get more information about the Winter Soldier." Steve smirks, leaning closer to capture your lips with his before he kisses your nose.

"That's why I love you, princess."

"I love you too," you mumble and bite into his chest, making him laugh and causing him to tickle you.

You're his biggest supporter, the one woman he really loves; you're his home, his safe place.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬.

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

[samscomfortcove]

1.6k bakugou x reader

𖦹:･ﾟ⋆｡°⭒✩･:*:｡

Bakugou pissed you off. Majorly. He was such an asshole and made you constantly want to punch the smug expression right off of his face. Every training session with him made you want to scream in frustration, and you did, before plunging towards him, fists in the air. And he dodged you every time, making you even more pissed. You knew this anger was keeping you from using your brain, tactics and techniques flew out the window every time you were up against him. There was always a 50/50 on who would win, either you cooled down or let him rile you up. God you hated him. He made your pulse race, adrenaline pumping through your veins every time you set your sights on him. 

—

A screaming match with him the night before had left you restless, the first few hours spent staring at your ceiling, willing yourself to sleep. The couple of hours that you did sleep, it was fitful. You woke with a groan at the ungodly hours of early morning, and all you wanted to do was demolish a training dummy in the gym. 

You were glad to find the gym quiet and empty. The room with equipment let out to another empty area, training mats lining the floor. Fighting sticks and boxing gloves were hung up on the walls and multiple training dummies were set in a line, and you selected the one with the most narcissistic expression on its face. Wrapping your hands in boxing tape, you glared at the dummy as if it had killed your entire family. You were half tempted to tape on a picture of Bakugou’s smug fucking face to it. Taking in a deep breath, you SCREAMED as you laid punch after punch to the dummy, a few kicks for good measure.

Taking a few minutes to breathe, you continued your assault on the dummy. Over your frustrated yells you couldn’t hear the click of the door, or notice the person that had walked into the room, and was watching you with his hands on his hips and smirk on his face. 

So wrapped up in your attempted murder of the training dummy, you screamed between your kicks, “Bakugou Katsuki, you fucking prick! Why are you so goddamn frustrating! Aahhhh!” Finally breathless, you stood there panting. Your soul nearly jumped out of your body when you heard a voice behind you “Is that really what you think?”, Bakugou chuckled. 

“What are you doing here?”, you said between deep breaths

“Last I checked, dumbass, the training facilities are here for all of us”, he retorted, “Not just for you”.

“Whatever. I’m leaving anyways. The gym’s yours”

You thought you saw disappointment flicker in his eyes. No way. He probably wants me gone so he can have the place to himself. He let out a laugh, “Tired already, huh?”

 You knew he was riling you up on purpose, but you couldn’t help but let him. You had to prove yourself, especially in front of him. You knew you fought best when it was against him. He pushed you in a way that no one in 1A could even begin to. He taunted and teased, knowing that it would get to you. Make you want to fight harder, to win.

“You wanna fight?”, you growled, “Then let’s fight”. You poised yourself on one side of the mat, a deathly glare shot in his direction. A feral grin lit up his face, his scarlet eyes blazing. He shot towards you, palms sparking. You dodged, shooting below his reach, a powerful blow to his abdomen, amplified by your quirk. Don’t let him distract you. You wouldn’t let him win. 

You delivered hit after hit. Most of them he dodged, but the ones that landed slowed him down. In between your own punches, he managed to get a couple attacks through to you. His explosions burned against your skin but the adrenaline dulled any pain. He wasn’t going to go easy on you, but then again he never did. Most of the other students were too nice, never going all out during training, but never Bakugou. He pushed himself and others to the limit. “Come on, that all ya got?”.

You grabbed his arm, thumb pressed to a sensitive spot next to his elbow. Twisting it painfully,you held it behind his back. You tried to get him down, but his free hand came around and knocked you off your legs. With a grunt you landed on your back. His momentary smugness gave you the opportunity to swoop your legs behind his knees, bringing him down with you. You were quicker getting onto your knees, and clambered onto him, pining him down with your entire body. He was huge, and god knew you wouldn’t have been able to keep him down with just your arms. 

You immediately realised this was the wrong move, because the boy had flipped you onto your back in seconds, looming over you with that goddamn smirk on his face again. His red eyes burned and you flushed, realising the compromising position you were in. Your heartbeat thumped in your ears and he was so close-Your hands lay by your sides as you harnessed your quirk, using all your power to knock him off of you. The momentum had him on his back with a groan. You scrambled to standing position and before he had to chance to get up, you placed your foot on his chest, grinning down an him for a change. “So, do I win or…?”, you said, proudly.

“Yeah yeah whatever”, Bakugou grumbled, pushing your foot off of him. You held out you hand for him to take, but he smacked it aside, getting up on his own. 

“It was just dumb luck, nerd”

“Oh really. You wanna go again?”

When he didn’t answer, you turned on your heel, moving towards your stuff,and a swift kick to the back of you knees had you on the ground again. The boy had you pinned down to the floor, his hips encircling your own. You let out a gasp. “Here’s where we were, before you decided to cheat”, he chortled.

“Yeah, I’m clearly the one who’s cheating here,” Your reply dripping with sarcasm. Whatever sharp comment you had lined up died in you throat when you realised just how close his face was to yours. You could feel his warm breath brushing your cheeks. His eyes darkened, pupils nearly swallowing the red in his eyes. Your breathing stuttered when his gaze moved to your lips. 

Most times you sparred with Bakugou, it was in class, and when it wasn’t, at least one of your friends was present, joining in on your early morning trainings. Heaven knew none of your classmates was willing to let the two of you fight alone, lest one rip the others head off. There was no one around you now, the air having grown thick, tension simmering between the two of you. 

The restlessness you felt around him sparked in your veins once again and it took over the exhaustion you had just been feeling. His gaze was hungry as he took in your face, eyes once again landing on your lips. He let out a huff before letting his lips crash into yours. The kiss was desperate and aggressive with months of pent up frustration. His hands frantically roamed your body as your hands came up and tangled themselves in his hair. You tugged at his blond locks, being rewarded with a breathy groan from Bakugou. His mouth moved to your jaw, slowing pacing towards your neck. You arched into his touch, pants and gasps spilling from your mouth. 

Is this what all the frustration, all the anger was? All this time, did you want him to touch you like this? All the times just one glance at him had your nerves fizzing, body buzzing with the need to… do something… is this what it was? 

As if he could hear the cogs in your brain turning, Bakugou stopped, eyes fluttering over your face, the lines between your brows. He moved off of you, onto his haunches, pulling you onto your knees to face him. You couldn’t read the expression etched onto his features. A whisper of a smile graced his lips. He raised his eyebrows.

“God, how can such a nerd be so slow”, Bakugou chuckled, “I mean, look at your face dumbass. You have no idea what’s happening. What more is it going to take for you to realise?”

Your brain was still foggy from that kiss. “Huh”, you said dumbly. 

“You’re such an idiot. I like you dumbass. And after the way ya just kissed me, I know for a fact you want me too”.

You wanted to deny it, but God, the past few moments of your brain running had made you realise just what everything you felt towards him had truly meant. But still, you were too proud to let him have it so easily. 

You scoffed, “You kissed me first, you spiky haired Pomeranian”.

He blinked at you with fury, “What did ya just call me?”

“Nothing baby”, you teased, the most innocent look on your face.

“Oh really”

He ran at you, a dangerous smirk on his face, full speed as you tried your best to get away from him. Propelled by his quirk, he caught up to you, pulling you into a kiss that seemed to melt your insides. In one swift movement he had you pulled over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry baby, I know just the thing that’ll teach ya”. Goosebumps erupted on your skin at his words, and you flushed, heat creeping up all over your body. Nobody had woken up yet, the sun just beginning to spill through the large windows of the dorm. Hanging limply off his shoulder, he took you straight to his room, making sure to lock the door behind him.

[littlelionwriting]

Mordecai Headcanons

Here is some Mordecai Heller headcanons that I had floating around in my brain and I hope everyone enjoys!

Is not good at recognizing feelings.

He does recognize that he enjoys your company and will go out of his way to spend time with you.

Was caught talking about you a tad too much when someone asked him if he had a crush on you (Mordecai.exe has stopped working)

Would absolutely deny such an accusation but not because he didn't love you, no he denies it cause the word 'crush' seems to juvenile for how he feels about you.

Would avoid you for the next couple days while he worked through his feelings and came to the conclusion that he wanted a relationship with you.

He isn't good at romance or doing flashy things, so instead, he shows up at your apartment with some flowers.

He tells you about how much he enjoys your company and that he would like to have a relationship with you.

"Please accept these flowers and excuse my recent behavior. If it is amenable, I would like to continue our outings and... if you would agree, make our relationship official."

Once you're in a relationship Mordecai is very protective of you. He knows the bad things that can happen, and he will protect you at all costs.

Please let him clean. He has very high standards and he recognizes that they are difficult for other people. As long as you clean up after yourself, he will be happy.

Loves cooking for you and he's not half bad at it. He enjoys seeing the look on your face when he makes you something you enjoy.

When in public he will often kiss the back of your hand but almost all other PDA is off the table. He is a very private person.

Now when you are in private, he can't keep his hands off you. He's hugging you, holding you close, kissing you, he just doesn't want to keep his hand off you.

His favorite way to kiss you is quick, unexpected kisses when you’re distracted.

Sleeping together for the first time is an experiment, he hasn't shared a bed with anyone in a long time, but he likes having you close.

He sleeps like a board with the occasional twitch of his tail or whiskers, you curled up next to him and nuzzled into his side and his arm around you.

He almost always wakes up before you, choosing to watch you sleep before slipping out of bed and making breakfast for you both.

He asks you to marry him one evening when you’re just sitting at home on the couch together, pulling out a ring from his vest pocket and offering it to you.

His love language is acts of service and spending time together.

Please don't make him have a huge wedding, he will if you really want to, but his nerves will be shot.

Mordecai does not want children. They are noisy and messy, plus he can't see himself as a good father.

NSFW

Is big into aftercare, he already has water ready for you and will offer you a bath or shower while he changes the sheets.

He will not admit it, but he enjoys coming on your chest and stomach. It satisfies the need of his to mark you as his.

He prefers positions where he can see your face and looking into your eyes. It's so intimate for him.

He doesn't feel the need to masturbate by himself, preferring to have sex with you or mutual masturbation.

Will never say yes to public sex, he could not handle the horror of being caught.

He can go a few rounds but prefers slow, sensual love making to a quickie any day. Quickies just don't have any appeal to him.

Mordecai watches you sleep on the freshly made bed, your chest slowly rising with each breath. He enjoys how the moonlight spills through the blinds on the window and illuminates your face. He lets a smile cross his face before leaning down and planting a kiss on your lips. He would not trade this for anything.

[sellasstories]

BUS RIDE

word count: 1.3k

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

⚠️warnings⚠️

explicit smut, exhibitionism?

prompts:

caitlin fingering you on the bus on the way to a game

jealous caitlin (kinda)

You jumped out of bed as soon as your alarm went off. You were travelling with the team today! After checking that you had everything, you made a quick breakfast and called Caitlin.

“Good morning, babe!” you chirped excitedly. “Are you up yet? Did you pack last night?”

You heard bedsheets shift as Caitlin sat up and groaned. “Don’t worry, love, I’m packed. What are you so excited about this early in the morning?” she wondered, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Come on, it’s our first away game of the season! Why aren’t you excited?” you retorted as you cleaned up your dishes.

“Because it’s literally 5am,” Caitlin grumbled. “And it’s such a long drive, you’ll get bored of it so fast.”

“Whatever, I’m still excited. You had better be happier when I see you on the bus,” you threatened jokingly. “Speaking of which, I’m leaving now so see you there!” You barely gave Caitlin a chance to say goodbye before you were hanging up, grabbing your bags, and rushing out of your dorm.

You put your bags on the bus and climbed in, realizing that Kate was the only person already there.

“Hi, Kate!” You waved at her exaggeratedly.

“Why are you here so early?” she asked you.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you retorted. “I’m just really excited for some reason.”

“Me too, actually,” giggled Kate. You sat in the empty seat next to her and chatted as the bus slowly filled up.

Caitlin finally stuck her head through the door, still looking grumpy. You watched her eyes scan the bus to find you, and she raised an eyebrow when she saw you sitting with Kate.

You turned to Kate again, ignoring your girlfriend as a joke. “She looks so jealous,” Kate said quietly, nudging you with her shoulder.

“Fine, I guess I’ll go hang out with her,” you sighed dramatically as you stood up. Caitlin had just passed your seat, so you followed her to the back. Caitlin sat down heavily and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Is something wrong, princess?” you asked sweetly, straddling Caitlin for a few seconds as you climbed into the window seat.

“It’s cold, I’m exhausted, and my girlfriend was sitting with another girl,” she pouted.

You pressed a kiss to her lips. “You’re ridiculous! Kate is my friend, and yours too. I’m all yours now, don’t worry.” Laughing, you kissed the tip of her nose.

“Whatever, let’s just go to sleep.” Caitlin couldn’t stop a small smile from showing on her face. You got your AirPods out while she spread a blanket over the two of you.

You shuffled your chill playlist and sighed contentedly, snuggling into Caitlin and closing your eyes. You focused on the sounds of the road and the music, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Your breath caught and your eyes snapped open as you felt Caitlin grab your leg, draping it over her lap and pulling you closer. You shot her a confused look, but she just closed her eyes, resting her hand on your thigh.

You closed your eyes again, but were too distracted to fall asleep. Caitlin’s hand was very high up, and she was lightly tracing shapes on your inner thigh. The basketball shorts that you were wearing had already rolled up from the way that you were sitting, but when you felt Caitlin’s thumb graze the hem of your panties, you knew that she was doing this on purpose.

“Not right now,” you breathed, trying not to look like anything suspicious was going on.

Caitlin didn’t even open her eyes. “Why not? We have so much time,” she mumbled.

“Someone could see! We’d be in so much trouble!” The panicked edge to your voice must have convinced her because she stopped her movements, instead sliding her fingers just under your waistband. You opened your mouth to protest again, but decided against it when you realized that her hand wasn’t moving.

Your relief was short-lived, because even though Caitlin had listened and appeared to be asleep, you couldn’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if you’d let her continue. Trying to calm down, you shifted in your seat, but your movement caused Caitlin’s finger to brush against your clit. Biting your lip to stifle a moan, you came to a decision.

“Cait, wake up,” you whined, running a hand down her arm. She blinked slowly and looked down at you.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly. You nodded quickly, shifting against her hand and hoping that she got the hint.

“Forget what I said earlier. Please touch me,” you mumbled desperately.

Caitlin didn’t answer, only smirking as she moved her hand down. She closed her eyes again as she started a slow rhythm on your clit with two fingers.

You buried your face in her chest to hide the blush on your cheeks, resisting the urge to roll your hips. Caitlin was applying just enough pressure, and it felt amazing.

You slowly relaxed, dropping your head onto Caitlin’s shoulder. You allowed the fog of pleasure to overcome your thoughts of getting caught, closing your eyes with a shaky exhale.

Caitlin continued at the same pace, occasionally dipping a finger into your entrance to gather some wetness. Your complete trust in her allowed your mind to really wander. You imagined how hot her fingers looked under the blanket and hoped that she didn’t notice your breathing hitch.

You knew that Caitlin was getting off on this, and it made you wonder how far she would go. Your mind conjured images of her on her knees in front of the seat as she ate you out, the blanket long gone, and you shuddered as your breathing got heavier.

This time, Caitlin noticed. “What do you need?” She pressed her lips to the top of your head.

“Keep going,” was all you managed to say.

Looking around, Caitlin started to increase the pace of her fingers. Practically panting at this point, you pulled your sweater over your face to muffle the sound.

“I know, love, I know,” Caitlin said soothingly. She titled your head up with her free hand and leaned close to your ear. “Look at me, I wanna see your face when you cum.”

You found yourself blushing again, the intensity of her words and her fingers setting your body on fire. She pressed harder on your clit, and it was enough to make your eyes roll back in your head.

Your whole body shuddered as your orgasm hit suddenly, and you weren’t quite able to stop a moan escaping from your open lips. You closed your eyes and willed yourself not to react to the overpowering feeling of pleasure spreading out across your body, still trying not to draw attention even as your mind became fuzzy.

Caitlin kept rubbing tight circles on your clit, drawing out the feeling of euphoria. She decreased the pressure once she saw your eyes focus back on her. “That was so hot,” she said onto your lips, pulling you in for a kiss.

You watched Caitlin gingerly slide her hand out of your shorts and wipe it on the blanket. “I can’t believe we just did that,” you said breathlessly. Seeing that it was now fully light out, you checked the time on your phone. “You got me off for two hours?” You asked in disbelief. “Cait, how is your hand not cramped? We have a game this afternoon!”

Caitlin rolled her eyes. “It’s fine, consider it endurance training or something,” she brushed off your concern. “Besides, it wasn’t even my shooting hand.”

You smacked her playfully on the arm before laying down in her lap, already questioning where the confidence to do that had come from. “You’re actually insane,” you giggled, looking up at her adoringly.

[sage-green-matcha]

STAB - ETHAN LANDRY 🔪

Billy and Stu? Nah, Y/n and Ethan 😋

Content includes: Bimbo!Reader, sweet gf! Ethan Landry, gf!Reader, mentions of blood, killing, shooting <3

A/n: I love stu sm and I would 100% be that type of gf 🤭

<3

<3

<3

"My mom and dad are gonna be so mad at me!" You cried, holding the stab wound Ethan had done on you.

"Shut up Y/n!...You look good by the way" he mumbled, watching as Sam held a panicked look in her eyes. "This literally sucks! You said we could..." The pain was too much, stopping you in your tracks.

"What? Yea, we can still go on a date, but we have work to do" he sighed, rubbing his temples. "You said this would be fun!" You squirmed, wiping the blood that was seeping out of your slashed shirt.

"This is fun, sweetheart!" You rolled your eyes, taking deep breaths to distract yourself from the pain. "It's not fun! Babe, you literally stabbed me! You said we could just use the fake blood on me!" You groaned.

"It's not believable like that!" He spat, dropping the ghost face mask next to him.

"Are we gonna finish this or what? I can't die! I have a fucking final next week" you cursed, limping over to Ethan.

"Yea, can you still walk?" Ethan asked, placing his hand around your waist. "I'll be fine"

Sam finally broke out of her trance, running towards Tara. To say she was shocked would've been a lie. She basically already knew it was you and Ethan, you two came out of nowhere.

"I got the gun, who do you want me to kill first?"

"Go wild, sweetheart"

His words gave you confidence, bullets being shot as everyone ran. "Got one!" You smiled excitedly, watching as Mindy tumbled to the ground. "Always hated that bitch, talks too much" you mumbled, holding your wound as you looked for the others.

All the doors were locked, the windows were boarded up. There was no way for all of them to escape.

You and Ethan eventually killed off the rest, Sam being the last one. You had shot her in the stomach, waiting for Ethan to finish the job.

"Fucking...pathetic" her words were mumbled, her blood mixing in with the one of her sisters and Highschool friends. "Shut up!" You hit her with your gun, blood spilling from her mouth. "You know I'm...right. He had you kill them because he's too scared"

You glanced at Ethan, his eyebrows furrowed. "Come on babe, show her. Show her you're not scared to fucking kill her!" You yelled, frustration running through your laugh. You kicked her in the ribs, watching as she yelped in pain.

Ethan just stood above her, he had only killed Tara so far. "Are you gonna do it? Your dad would be so proud Eth..." You smiled, his expression changed as you waited, tears falling from Sam's face.

He needed time, time to watch as she suffered the same way his brother did. Richie was never a good role model, not even a good brother. But Ethan knew this would gain him his dad's respect, and that was all he had ever wanted.

"It's okay, I can wait for you" Your glistening doughy eyes made him melt. He had to do this for you too.

He pulled his gun out, his eyes watching carefully as a loud gunshot went off. Sam Carpenter was finally dead. He expected himself to feel better. He thought that the feeling of loneliness would fade with each second that she suffered.

But he felt the same. He felt like a sidekick, he felt useless. And it's not like he even did this in honor of Richie. He didn't do it for himself. He did it for you and his dad.

"So...what do we do now?" You honestly didn't expect to be the first successful ghost face. When you mentioned the idea to Ethan he was on board right away. You guys had only taken the plan this far and now you had no idea what to do.

"I guess we clean up now..."

You cringed at Ethan's words, a frown on your face. "Weren’t we just gonna say we got attacked and were the only ones that survived?"

"Hmm yea, I guess. I didn't do that stab wound on you for nothing. But I will admit, you look really cute limping around”

You rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder as you walked past him. "You're lucky I didn't stab you back.”

[sunflowersandsapphires]

An Unfortunate Coincidence

In All The World, Chapter 1.1

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: Frank Castle is just trying to focus on his stakeout and avoid thinking about his past. However, his plans are abandoned when he spots a familiar face approaching your apartment.

warnings: swearing, Frank and Matt being little shits, brief descriptions of Matt's labyrinth of internalized guilt, very short semi-smut scene (as always, MINORS DNI)

a/n: Ahhhh I was so excited to begin this new series that I accidentally wrote almost 7k for it (and it's not even done). Here is the first chapter that accidentally became a three-shot. I really hope you all like it! Please let me know if there's anything you wanna see in this verse!

w/c: 4k

“In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours. In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.” — Maya Angelou

Crouched on the damp gravel roof of some rundown apartment building, Frank tilted his head to stretch the muscles in his neck. After a few hours peering into his scope, it was starting to ache like hell. Roughly pinching the back of his neck between two fingers, he kneaded circles into it, attempting to alleviate the pain without changing his position. It wasn’t an optimal night for thwarting an armed robbery, given the shitty weather and lousy visibility, but he was determined to disband this particular troop once and for all. 

The cocky fuckers had been one step ahead of him for weeks and he’d finally found the next bank they planned to hit—at least, he hoped that would be the case. 

It wasn’t quite raining, but Manhattan was draped with a patchy fog and the condensation was enough to mist Frank’s face as he lay in wait. While the lack of a clear night would help conceal him and his guns, it also meant he had to get much closer to the site than he would have liked. More distance meant more time to pack up before he had cops on his ass. 

This particular location was especially irritating because the angle of his scope ran directly past your apartment. 

Seeing a warm yellow light in the window nearly left him a distracted, guilty mess. You were clearly home from work. Maybe cooking dinner? Or lounging on the couch he’d crashed on more than he wished to admit. He should probably send you a text to let you know he was still alive—but the thought of that made his body go rigid. 

Despite his lacking communication, and your profound exasperation for that specific trait of his, you never seemed to be out of patience for him. You were reliable, compassionate, and far too good for him to fuck up your life more than he already had. You were the only family he had left, and he was determined to keep a far enough distance to keep you safe.

Which is why his line of sight was currently positioned just past the edge of your apartment window—simultaneously shoving all his remorse deep down where it didn’t need to be acknowledged. Taking down a group of dangerous scumbags with a sniper rifle would be hard enough without being plagued with childhood memories and regret.

Normally, repression was a simple solution to this issue—they do say that practice makes perfect after all. However, mental gymnastics can only do so much to combat adrenaline. Hypervigilance had broadened his peripheral vision, his gaze sweeping the horizon automatically like a prowling animal, pupils blown wide as he absorbed every movement around him. Each flicker of a lamp bulb or ripple in the fog made his grip tighten, eyes flitting between the stimuli as if he was watching a ping pong ball bounce between players. Each motion only held his focus for a moment, his subconscious analyzing them for possible threats within a flash of a synapse before his attention returned to the task at hand.

Through the viscous haze draped over the city, another movement captured his interest. A dark form gliding over rooftops, diving over the beams of moonlight scattered across the vapor without a trace. Scoffing lightly, Frank rolled his eyes. Leave it to Red to show off without even knowing he had an audience. Fuckin' prick.

Chuckling to himself at the idea of firing a blank to give Altar Boy a scare, his laughter quickly faded as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen circled around, headed his way. Frank knew the guy had a freaky mechanism that allowed him to navigate without sight, but there was no way he'd picked up on Frank's presence from nearly a dozen blocks away, right? It wasn't likely that his bloodhound nose was THAT good at picking up the scent of gunpowder.

Skin crawling with unease, Frank's fingers traced over the worn handle of the blade tucked in his belt. After a few weeks being blue-balled by low lives, he wasn't necessarily opposed to a rooftop spat with the personification of Catholic Guilt. Fundamental differences aside, the kid could fight. And it wasn't like Frank had a line up of sparring partners these days. He was beginning to feel a bit rusty. 

To his dismay, the glorified-pajama-clad vigilante never reached him. Instead, he leapt onto the roof of a nearby building and began clambering down the fire escape.

With each of Red's steps, Frank's heart rate climbed, his ear drums ringing alongside his pulse. A shudder shot through him as he followed the other man's path, his body suddenly overtaken with malaise as he inched his scope towards the location he'd been trying so hard to ignore.

There was no way.

Red vaulted over a railing and down a story, his graceful trek slowing in pace.

There was no fuckin' way. It was an unfortunate coincidence. A stroke of Frank's continued bad luck, nothing more.

He was on your story now, close enough that Frank could see his haughty smirk, aimed in the direction of the glimmer Frank had successfully avoided all night.

“Keep movin', Red.” Frank muttered, muscles tensing with dread as he watched the masked lawyer hurdle over a balcony with a twist of his body, tactical shoes perching steadily on the edge of your cement outcropping. “No, no, no. Absolutely not, you asshole.”

Basking in the glow of your apartment window, Murdock broke into a roguish grin leaning backwards against the barrier, a few inches of synthetic stone between him and a twenty story fall. A shadow fluttered into Frank's vision, settling comfortably over Murdock's proud stance as a resident approached the terrace.

Sliding the window open with delicate fingers, your torso tilted out of the safety of your apartment, your beaming smile ever-present as Red posed for you. Strutting forward at a snail's pace, Frank could imagine the laugh that tumbled out of your mouth as you snatched him by the wrist and tugged him against the frame of the window. Time had seemingly slowed, Frank fixated on Matt's smug expression as he tipped his face towards yours.

As your lips met, Frank's vision flashed crimson, rage bubbling in his veins. Grinding his teeth furiously, Frank shoved himself out of his crouch, hefting his rifle onto an open canvas bag and stomping off.

“Oh, don't start with me.” You scolded gently as the lightbulb above your stove quivered uncertainly. Swiping a finger over the switch in a dramatic motion, the bulb sparked on the second try, sapping energy from the weak electrical current and illuminating your kitchenette with a soft warm light.

Flexing your sock-covered feet on the prehistoric checkerboard tile, you raised your arms above your head, arching your back into the stretch with a pleased groan. You'd done a lot of sitting today, hunched over stacks of papers scrambling to understand the new curriculum requirements sent out by your district in the humid closet-of-a-classroom you adored.

Pulling out your trusty, slightly crooked frying pan, you held it a few inches above the burner as you cranked the knob. Once the gas had lit properly, you positioned the pan just so and bustled about, readying the ingredients for a simple meal. Smacking the faucet handle, you tapped your foot to the beat of the song playing softly from your cheap speaker, letting the water run clear before rinsing a fistful of veggies in the feeble stream. Some of the produce was tossed straight into the hot oil, the rest you needed to chop first.

Thankfully, you were only making dinner for two, which meant preparation only took a few minutes. Once your vegetables were cooked and your noodles were boiling, you whipped up a simple sauce and brushed your hands together. Now came the tough part–waiting.

Matt's nightly routine typically made it difficult for you to spend the evenings together—not that it bothered you. Your evenings were typically spent shoving handfuls of chips into your mouth as you watched brainless TV or taking short naps to recover from the day. You were happy to continue those habits and feel truly rested when your boyfriend was finished being a hero for the day. This week was an odd one though, with late staff and board meetings pushing your normally-early supper back a few hours.

When you'd originally mentioned this change to Matt, his face had lit up, inspiring a smile of your own. After a minute of your pestering, he'd finally revealed his idea.

“What if I stay at yours this week?” His expression was soft, his attempt at a smug tone failing to conceal the jagged edge of his unvoiced worry that you'd decline, that he was being clingy—two insecurities you'd been steadily chipping away over the course of your eight month relationship.

Nearly tackling him with a hug, you had peppered his face with kisses, making him laugh. “Is that a yes?”

“That sounds perfect, Matty! I'll be dying to see you after sitting at conference tables all day.” You'd lamented, trailing a finger over his chest as it shook with a rumble of a chuckle.

“So you're saying I shouldn't practice my opening arguments for you? Detail the intricacies of mutual acquiescence and how it was displayed by the adverse parties?”

“Despite your attempts to confuse me with made up legal-sounding words,” Hooking your arms around Matt's neck as he laughed, you'd begun swaying slightly, rocking the two of you from side-to-side as you spoke. ”I'd happily listen to you talk about anything, love. You could describe the process of paint drying to me and I'd still enjoy our time together.“

Flushing slightly pink, Matt turned his face away from you with a scoff. ”Hmm, maybe I'll bring some of my old law textbooks by sometime and we can test that theory.“

Curling a finger around his chin, you gently pulled Matt's face back to yours so you could kiss him. “I mean it, Matthew. You can make anything interesting—it's one of your many gifts. And you've worked hard on this case! I'm happy to be your guinea pig.”

And you'd meant every word. Sitting here in front of your stove, you couldn't think of a better way to spend your evening than watching Matt in his element. As you stirred everything together in a pot over a low flame, your mind began to wander. Matt was wonderful, and attractive for many reasons, but the voice he used when addressing a courtroom? The thought of it alone brought heat to your cheeks. He didn't need to worry about keeping your attention, that was for sure.

The light rapping of a knuckle on your balcony window made you jump, your nose crinkling with slight embarrassment as you realized you were no longer alone—and Matt could probably tell where your mind was detouring from behind your fingerprint-smudged window. Scurrying to grant him entry, you couldn't help the excited smile on your face as you shoved the thick glass off of its sill.

Matt looked phenomenal, draped in black woven fabric that was just tight enough to accent his bulging muscles. Lines of off-white rope were coiled around his hands, trailing up his forearms like a thin pair of serpents. Though he was breathing heavily, he was smiling and didn't appear to be bleeding out or gravely injured.

“Am I allowed to come inside, or am I supposed to stand here so you can ogle me all night?” Matt asked gleefully, stretching his hips so his abs swelled against the long sleeve black tee he was wearing.

“Hmm, see I would let you in, but you'd make such a beautiful decoration..” You jested, grin only growing wider as the light from your apartment revealed Matt's blush. You loved watching his cheeks flush pink when you complimented him—his smug exterior faltering as he became slightly bashful. Deciding to cut his hammering heart some slack, you moved on from the praise. ”You're early, love.“

With a deep chuckle, Matt gave a one-armed shrug, striding towards you. ”I had a date.“

Scoffing out a laugh, you reached an arm out of your apartment, the cool outside air curling around your skin and raising the fine hair along it. As water vapor made contact with your skin, the tiniest drops of condensation beaded against your warm flesh. You reached for Matt, who was still a victim of the pitiful rain storm out on your terrace. Fingertips closing around his wrist, you pulled him towards you—other hand coming up to scratch at the base of his scalp when he was within range. “Matthew, we talked about this. You don't need to cut your deviling short to please me. I won't be upset if you—“

Cutting of your gentle chastising with a kiss, Matt knocked his forehead against yours, hands leaving the embrace to cradle your jaw. The dense fibers of the cords around his hands prickled against your skin, a much rougher feeling than the soft fabric of his mask against the bridge of your nose. His breath drifted over your lips as he spoke. “It's been slow. Promise.”

Nuzzling into his touch as his thumb traced over your cheek, your smile softly returned. “Ok, that's good. Hungry?”

As one of Matt's hands slid from your jaw toward your nape, the ropes rolled over your skin, scratching lightly against it. Fingers pushing into your flesh with a tad more heat, Matt smirked—his lips brushing over yours. “Starving.”

Matt nipped lightly at your chin and you stifled a giggle, kissing him sweetly before stepping back into your apartment. “I meant literally, Matt. C'mon, I need some food in me before you pin me down to mark me up.”

Towing Matt through your window with both hands clamped around one of his steady arms, you squealed as he lept over the threshold, gathering you into his arms in one fluid movement. Mashing his face into the side of yours, a low rumble sounded from the back of Matt's throat, as if he was purring. The tip of his nose was chilled, barely covered by the mask as he galavanted around in the unusually cool night air. He nestled you against his chest, burying his nose in your hairline just above your ear.

“I think we both know how much you want me to do just that, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to wait until after dinner?” His teasing voice was pitched down, sounding more like the Devil of Hell's Kitchen than Matt Murdock. A shudder crept down your spine, an exhale falling from your lips at the suggestion.

“Mmmm, I, uh, I thought I was. Now, I'm not so sure.” You murmured, warmth flooding between your thighs as Matt's teeth scraped the shell of your ear.

Chuckling darkly, Matt's hand splayed against the small of your back, his lips planting a kiss on your temple. “We'll have to see where the night takes us then. What did you make? It smells good.”

Matt broke his hold on you, taking a seat at your dinette without even acknowledging how aroused he'd just made you. His ability to trip your brain up with a few well-placed touches was dangerous, dammit.

Blowing out a slightly exasperated breath, you let your hand drift over Matt's shoulders before you lifted the pot from the stove. Using the pair of tongs you'd used to toss the vegetables, you plated two servings of the meal you'd thrown together. “Those peanut noodles you liked so much. I was craving them. But don't worry, I only gave you broccoli and edamame this time.” 

A few weeks ago, when you’d first found this recipe, Matt had enjoyed it—but only after you’d stopped him from choking down the mushrooms and bok choy mixed into the dish. The poor man was stifling gags as he bit into the vegetables, later explaining that they were on the list of “textures Matt can barely tolerate”. He had apologized profusely, not understanding why you weren’t upset with him for not enjoying the food without alterations. This time, you’d planned ahead. 

Clearly also thinking of your last attempt at this meal, Matt wrinkled his nose with a grimace. “Thank you. I'm sorry to be difficult.”

Rolling your eyes, you slid one of the bowls in front of him, using one finger to delicately lift the mask from the top half of his face. As you peeled the sweaty fabric off of his head, it revealed his mussed hair—the strands sticking out in little tufts after being mashed beneath the cotton for a few hours. You bit your lip to stifle a giggle, bringing your fingers up to smooth the mess. “You're not difficult, you're just human. And you have some impressive helmet-hair tonight.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I heard this was how the kids were wearing it these days. Am I pulling it off?” He grinned at you, hands landing on your waist as you kicked a leg over his lap to straddle him.

“You look a bit like a newly-hatched chick in an incubator.” You snickered, humming appreciatively as he tightened his grip on you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Darn. I was hoping to change up my style to something more modern.” Matt quipped, instinctively tilting his head up as you scratched at his overgrown stubble with your nails.

“I never said it looked bad, handsome.” You explained, nose rubbing against his as you moved in for a kiss. “You look as gorgeous as always.”

With a greedy noise, Matt's hands dug into the soft flesh of your stomach. His lips were relaxed, happily letting you slide your tongue between them. His skin was warm with exertion and want, his touches grappling and desperate as he pulled you impossibly closer.

Dropping your arms to rest on his shoulders, you threaded a hand into his hair, tugging lightly at it as he kissed you. Matt moaned softly, his movements halting like a cat who'd been scruffed. You felt a rush of pride as Matt went lax against you. Tipping your weight into him, the force shoved his spine against the back of the chair, the wood creaking in protest.

It hadn't even been a week since you'd last seen him, last felt him–but it was as though he'd been away for years. Each time he held you against him, expression soft with affection, butterflies swarmed your stomach. To the rest of the city, he was a ruthlessly fearsome vigilante. But with you, he showed his underbelly. Trusting you enough to be soft, and to want softness in return. It made you giddy, being one of a chosen few to know the secret truth about Daredevil. And you were immensely fond of the man behind the mask. 

With a gasp, you began to lose your train of thought as the building heat in your core grew uncomfortable. Rocking your hips against Matt, he tensed his thigh as you ground down on it, letting you take what you needed from him. Moaning softly while the friction from Matt’s leg rubbed pleasantly against your clit, you circulated your hips, swinging them upward with the intention of using gravity to help you ride Matt’s statuesque thigh–but the world had other plans.

A pounding knock startled you out of your passionate stupor. Flying backwards in surprise, you collided with the solid wooden edge of your dining table. Grunting quietly at the impact, you swiveled your head towards the door when the banging continued, your heart pumping furiously as your concern built. Matt's hands slipped between you and the injurous furniture, shielding you from worsening the inevitable bruising the sideswipe had caused.

Though his head was cocked, his eyes blankly trailing along your torso, searching for any damage you'd done, he was wearing a resigned expression.

“Who—” You started to ask, but a brusque deep voice called for you through the door.

“I know you're in there.” The cause of the disturbance was no longer a stranger, but that didn't fix the sinking feeling threatening to drag you through the creaky floor.

”One second, Frank.“ You grimaced, swinging yourself off of Matt's lap to open the door.

As your weight lifted off of him, Matt chuckled humorlessly. “Took him long enough.”

Hands flying to your hips as you spun on your heel, you narrowed your eyes at Matt. “You KNEW?”

Shrugging noncommitally, Matt pinched one of the abandoned forks between his fingers, tugging the bowl of noodles closer to him and stabbing the utensil into it. “I had a feeling.”

Scoffing incredulously, you shook your head as he popped a forkful of tepid pasta into his mouth. “How can you look like you're enjoying yourself right now?”

Matt smirked at you. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the luxury of bearing witness to dinner and a show.” Attacking his dinner ravenously, Matt didn't explain himself further.

Sighing loudly in response to Matt's unprecedented ambivalence, you jogged to the door--opening it to reveal your VERY pissed off cousin. He must've been camped out somewhere for a while, given the rivulets of water dripping off of his face and clothes. The droplets trailed over his scowl, getting tangled in his beard on the way to the ground.

”Hi Frank.“ You greeted politely, arm shooting out to grasp the door frame as he took a deliberate step past you, eyes locked onto Matt's frame in the middle of your apartment. You might've been smaller than both of them, but you weren't feeble. Your well-placed grip held strong against the burly ex-marine, his glare pivoting to bore into you as you stopped him from storming into the apartment.

”Move aside,“ Frank ground out your name, eyes dark with rage.

”And let you bludgeon someone to death in my apartment? I'll pass.“ You snarked, your own anger over Frank's absence and the overwhelming stench of testosterone now shrouding your space coating your words.

Matt scoffed from behind you, making a sound of protest but you held up a single finger on your free hand. ”Don't you dare.“

Matt closed his mouth, turning his attention back to his dinner with a pout.

Nostrils flaring, Frank's chest was still poking into your forearm as he shook his head. ”I can't believe this. Him? C'mon kid, you're smarter than that. You can't shack up with this asshole.“

”I can do whatever I damn well please, Castle. In case you've forgotten over your period of absence, I am an adult who is capable of making her own decisions.“

A muscle in Frank's cheek twitched but he said nothing. Jabbing a finger into his shoulder, you pulled a stern look straight from your bag of teacher tricks, staring him down. ”I will let you through this door to talk but if either of you start brawling in my home, you're out on the street, got it?“

Confidence wavering, Frank's posture relaxed ever so slightly, looking like an attack dog who had been given a hold command--frustrated and miffed, but no longer snarling. He nodded once, stepping back to allow you to retract your arm.

”Matthew?“ You asked over your shoulder, still blocking the doorway as you waited for both parties to agree.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. What was the question?“ You didn't need to crane your neck to see Matt's proud expression, feigning innocence as he silently challenged Frank from afar.

You and Frank both snorted in disbelief. Frank's lips opened but you beat him to the punch. ”Try again, Murdock.“

With a displeased grumble, Matt muttered his assent. ”Fine.”

Ha. Teacher voice: 1, unruly vigilantes: 0.

Nodding in approval, you finally released your rigid stance, standing on your tiptoes to peck Frank on his damp cheek. “C'mon in. I'll grab you a towel.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @gracethyomen @xxdrixx

[totallynotsilversora]

Hey nerds guess who made another thread about Vash's shooting skills during the finale of Trigun Stampede?

This nerd right here!

(( AGAIN! ))

Because Studio Orange has been driving me insane with how great Vash is as a gunman not just cinematically but realistically! I am NOT getting over this for a while my friends.

Of course, if you hadn't watched the finale yet and want to avoid spoilers, just know this post is gonna be filled with them and if you'd like to see my first analysis on Vash the Pro Gunslinger you can check it out here on tumblr and here on twitter before reading through this one!

Speaking of the bird, this post is also on twitter below:

Oh but wait, don't have one? No worries! I've retyped everything below so you don't have to look at the bird app if you don't want to!

All posts mention guns and shooting because otherwise this analysis would not work at all.

NOW LET'S ROLL!

First off, again, I’m going based on what I remembered from shooting air rifles & other research I’ve gained over the years! Second, I’m not an OG Trigun fan, so do take this thread with a grain of salt!

With that, let’s dive into THEE fight scene:

So right off the bat we’re getting Vash’s “smooth criminal” shot! Notice how he’s lining up his body sideways with his pistol vs forward like in the past. That’s exactly how you’re supposed to shoot one handed: feet shoulder width apart and aligned w/ the gun.

Normally you’d want both feet planted on the ground when firing but since Vash HAS to stay on the move to avoid getting hit AND is being a cocky little shit to his brother, he lets himself lean forward to fire and use that kick back to gently guide him into his next step.

Again, you NEVER fight what’s considered natural movement with a gun! You WILL get hurt! If you want to aim properly you NEED to be relaxed and composed. Vash isn’t fighting against the force of his gun, he follows it with the confidence and poise of a dancer on stage.

And speaking of dancing just look at how Vash makes Knives dance over puddles! Vash has impeccable aim yet he deliberately chooses to shoot in areas that could stun or stumble Knives, knowing he could block the shots, and distract him as he goes behind the corner.

Remember how I said lining up sideways is how you shoot properly? Here he’s firing straight forward using the corner as his shield. Had he not been holding a ticking bomb in his hand he would probably rest the gun on his other hand like he normally does on the rock jutting out.

The second he fired his last shot he dips down to reload and LOOK AT THAT!!

He is practicing proper trigger discipline again!!

You do NOT keep your finger on the trigger when loading in order to prevent misfire. That is BASIC SHOOTING SAFETY!!

And he does this throughout the fight!

When he turns away from Knives to make his way to the corner he lets go of the trigger before he turns back around to fire at him!

He can only hold 8 bullets in that gun and he will make each one count!

He can NOT afford to misfire.

Why??

Because that bullet he loaded was going STRAIGHT FOR KNIVES! Vash is NOT messing around! At this angle it looks like he aimed and could’ve hit Knives' NECK which would be super hard to dodge close range. Knives would have to bend backwards like he did here to dodge.

Shout out to everyone at Orange for the incredible work put into Vash and his shooting! There’s so much care into this show I can’t wait to see more!

Bonus: while we’re here, let’s get into Vash’s stellar reloads starting with this one (my absolute favorite) :

Remember how I said Vash was being a cocky little shit to Knives earlier?

Yeah this is it at it’s peak.

Faced forward, standing still til the last second, and very slowly reloading so Knives hears all 8 clicks before flying out the window.

This is just being mean lol XD

It's because we KNOW he can reload fast! The gif below might be faster by half a second but it's still RIDICULOUS compared to the first one:

Hell, he’s put individual bullets in the chamber midair and slammed a container of them in the SAME FLIGHT! MIDAIR!!!

He did NOT have to mess with Knives like that! Dude's flexin' hard.

In any case, I can’t recommend this show enough! The amount of work and detail put into not just Vash’s skills as a marksman but the acting and storytelling - everything is superb!! What an amazing experience!

Thanks again Studio Orange and Nightow! See you again, soon!

[callmelittlebuttercup]

Peace Offerings Pt. 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter Summary: Joel and Reader set off on their journey. Things start out rocky because of nerves, but once night falls, Joel shows that he's not a complete asshole.

Series Warnings: Slow burn, 18+ Minors DNI, Sexual Themes, Violence, Injuries (depictions of blood, bruising, broken bones), Grumpy!Joel, Minimal depictions of reader's appearance (hair color/length.)

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Two:

 I decided not to go to sleep because of my impromptu nap earlier. I couldn’t risk Joel leaving without me. I stayed up going over the route on the map and preparing myself for a journey with a man who I didn’t get a great first impression from. Though I did realize, after learning that his name was Joel, that I’d heard about him before. He was a talented smuggler, had a lot of connections but not many friends, and had no problem killing at the first twitch of trouble. This information made me even less excited to be on the road alone with him. At least I knew he could fight. 

          The time was getting close to an hour before sunrise, and I was beginning to get nervous that Joel had left without me. I re-checked my bag to make sure I had everything, and then sat on the couch, tapping my fingers on my knee. I began to zone out, but was quickly snapped back to reality at a knock at my door. I stood up, hoisted my heavy backpack onto my shoulder, and took one last look at my apartment. The tattered couch, the chipped table and chairs in the kitchen, and the broken tv in the corner by the window. Wasn’t much, but it was mine. I walked to the door and opened it. Joel was standing there with a backpack hanging off of his shoulder. He greeted me with a “Let’s go.” I nodded and closed the door behind me before following him down the dark hallway.

           We stayed silent as we hurried through the deserted streets of the QZ. No noise could be heard except the sound of our light steps on the pavement. We reached the fence. Joel opened up a hole that had been cut in the chain link, and gestured for me to go first. I hurried through, being careful not to get caught on the sharp edges. He climbed through after me and returned to his place in front of me. We scrambled over bricks and ruins of old buildings that had been knocked down.  I almost fell when I stepped on a loose rock but I caught myself, and received a disapproving look from Joel. I rolled my eyes as I continued to follow his lead through the rubble. 

            I froze when I heard a voice call out, “Hey!” My head whirled to see a QZ guard hiding behind a wall and pointing a gun at us. Joel spotted him too and approached slowly. “Turn around and I’ll let you go alive.” The guard said. “Just let us through. We don’t want any trouble.” Joel said calmly. He must’ve known him, because if he hadn’t we would have been shot. Joel leaned in to whisper something to the guard, and pressed a small plastic bag into the palm of his hand. Pills. I watched the exchange, not moving from my place. Joel suddenly seemed angry. His eyes became dark and his eyebrows furrowed. I saw his hand ball into a fist before he slammed the guard into the wall.  The guard tried to fight back, but Joel was too strong. He threw him to the ground and began throwing punch after punch, obliterating the guard’s face. He stopped, panting and grunting heavily. My jaw had fallen open and my eyes were glued to him. I was both terrified and intrigued. He stood up off of the ground and began walking ahead of me again as if nothing had happened.“What was that about?” I asked. He kept his head forward and answered, “Nothin’ you need to worry about.” I looked back at the unmoving guard one last time before jogging to catch up with Joel. 

            I kept my questions to a minimum, seeing as they clearly agitated him. I distracted myself from the tugging thoughts by focusing on the scenery. I hadn’t been outside of the QZ since I was 14, and things had changed drastically. The highways were lined with abandoned and picked over cars, buildings were crumbling, vines covering everything they could. I was pulled from my own little world when I slammed into the back of Joel. “Dammit! Watch where you’re goin’.” He grumbled. “Sorry.” I said as I caught my footing. 

           I, too, was not making a good impression on Joel. I already seemed clumsy and unfocused. My cheeks burned from embarrassment as I shook out my arms, hoping it would get rid of the funk I was in. I needed to focus, to let him know I could keep up with him on this journey. 

          I was assuming Joel wanted to get as far away from the QZ as possible before we found a place to rest for the night. So, I kept on despite my back aching from the heavy pack I was wearing and the blisters already forming on my feet. 

          When we came upon a large building with an abandoned truck outside, Joel paused before pressing against the truck to hide. Once we were sure the coast was clear, we neared the door. “What is this place?” I asked quietly, unable to contain my curiosity. “Museum. Couple guys left a package for me here for the journey.” He muttered back before eyeing the door that had been splattered with fungus spores and vines. My skin crawled, able to guess what was inside. “I’m not going in there.” I blurted. Joel’s eyes snapped to me, “You will if you want to eat or drink for the next few months. Get your gun out.” He demanded before placing his hand on the door and pushing. It made a loud and echoey creaking sound as it slowly opened, revealing a grand lobby that had been retaken by dust, vines, and fungus, just like everything else. There were paintings on the walls and statues that had probably been priceless in the past. 

           Joel stepped inside and I followed behind him, gun raised in the same position. We swept the large area and found it empty. We continued down a corridor, actively avoiding vines and globs of fungus sprawled before our feet. We came across a number of tables scattered in another large room. They were littered with boxes and cartons. “Firefly campsite.” I said after observing a symbol painted on a canister of oil. Joel nodded. He opened an oil canister and slammed the lid back down. “Dammit.” He cursed loudly. My eyes shot to him. “Fuckin’ package is gone.” I stood, not knowing what to do or how to help.

         The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I heard a faint, but familiar sound. My eyes locked onto Joel’s and he whispered, “Shit. Stay behind me.” I obeyed and tiptoed behind him as we neared a stairwell. We cautiously neared the top of the stairs. Joel pressed his back against a glass display case, and I did the same. My eyes were trained on him, waiting for my next command. His chest was heaving and his eyes were shut tight, focusing on the nearing sound of the creature. Soon the clicking noise began to echo itself. There were two. I let out an anxious breath before looking over my shoulder. I jumped when I saw the head which had been torn apart by fungus erupting through. I stumbled backwards into Joel’s chest. I felt his arm wrap around my shoulders as he swung me behind him. My arms connected with the glass case as Joel struggled with the monster. I turned and watched him stab the creature in the head. Breathing heavily, I pushed myself off of the case and lifted my gun back up in front of me. 

The noise had brought more clickers our way. As soon as I caught sight of another one, I unloaded a bullet into its head, causing it to fall backwards onto the other clicker following it. I shot that one too, and looked back to Joel who was pinned against a case across the room, fighting another one. He looked as if he had that one under control, so I decided to clear the other room. As I rounded the doorway, I was ambushed by a woman who’s eyes were replaced with the foamy looking fungus. Panic gripped my chest as she threw me to the ground with a shriek. I aimed my gun at her and pulled the trigger. Click. I pulled again, thinking the chamber was jammed. Click. “Shit!” I screamed as she threw her body onto mine. Her fingers dug into my shoulders and her mouth chomped at my face. The spindrils of cordiceps inches from my skin. I pushed as hard as I could, adrenaline in full control of my body. I thought I was done for, but suddenly the woman was ripped off of me and thrown to the side. Joel’s boot landed hard on her head, and the chilling shrieks turned to silence. He turned to me and watched as I rolled to the side and spewed vomit onto the floor. 

         Once my coughing and heaving stopped, I rolled over and let my head fall backwards. Joel came and crouched next to me, his hand held out to help me sit up. “Thank you,” I breathed as I used him for leverage, “sorry.” I breathed, swallowing my bile. He shook his head, “Don’t be.You’re not bit right?” he asked, a bit of concern peaking through. “Don’t think so.” I answered, still trying to regain my composure. His eyes scanned my body to be sure. When he saw no sign of injury, he grabbed me by the armpit and grunted, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He hoisted me off the ground and hurried down the steps and back out of the door we came in. 

After we got far enough away from the building, Joel told me to sit down and have some water. I tried to argue but he, of course, said that it wasn’t up for debate. “Not carryin’ you if you pass out.” He grumbled as he sat down on a wide rock next to a stream. I sat on another rock across from him and took small sips from my canteen, sighing in relief as the water washed away the taste of vomit. “I don’t usually have such a weak stomach, I swear.” I said as I closed the bottle and shoved it back in my pack. Joel swallowed a sip of his own water, then spoke, “You never get used to those things. Even after 20 years…” I nodded, keeping my eyes on the running water of the stream. I wanted to strip my clothes and just walk in. I could imagine how good the cool water would feel on my grimy skin. But Joel’s impatience kept me planted on the rock. “You good?” He asked. I nodded. “M’kay, let’s move.”

         When the sun was almost disappearing behind the tree line, Joel suddenly veered off of the path and into the thick woods. I followed him, choosing not to question his decisions so early in the trip. We walked further and further into the woods until we’d come to a small clearing. Joel dropped his pack on the ground and began to pull things out of it. A sleeping bag, tinfoil of jerky, his canteen. My stomach dropped. I left my fucking sleeping bag in my apartment. 

         I huffed as I sat down. “Better eat. Was a long day on your feet.” Joel said before shoving a piece of jerky into his mouth. I nodded and opened my backpack. Searching for something to use as a pillow or blanket. Anything. I pulled out my brother’s sweatshirt, and folded it up before setting it beside me. Then I took out a ration of Jerky and started eating. “Harvard?” He asked, eyeing the sweatshirt while still chewing his food. “Not me. My brother.” I said quietly. He nodded and focused back on methodically pulling the strips of jerky apart. 

          Joel lit the small lantern he had in his pack and began to unroll his sleeping bag. I sat there awkwardly fiddling with the strings of the sweatshirt I’d planned on using as a pillow. “Where’s yours?” He asked with a grunt as he sat down on top of the nylon fabric. I pressed my lips together, “Never got one.” I lied. He sighed and laid down. I was glad at the fact that he didn't seem to care. I placed the sweatshirt on the ground behind me, fluffing it up as best I could, and laid my head back. I frowned at the hardness of both the ground and the sweatshirt, but knew I had to face the consequences of my own forgetfulness. 

           Sleep didn’t come as easily as I needed it to. I laid awake, staring at the stars and trying to convince myself that this trip was worth it. Traveling with a stranger, a frankly terrifying stranger, on foot for thousands of miles just to see if my brother who, get this, left me alone in the QZ to go with the fireflies, was alive. I became angry at myself for making such a rash decision. Part of me was so angry at Matt for leaving me alone in the QZ to fend for myself, but the other, more rational part knew that he wanted me to go with him and I refused. I told him to go without me, but he still left, knowing that his younger sister would have to do whatever she could to survive in that cold, unforgiving city. And here I was, walking thousands of miles, risking my life to find him. I considered packing up and turning back, but life in the QZ wasn’t anything worth turning back for. Maybe, just maybe, I’d find my place somewhere else. If there was somewhere else. 

            I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours. I’d obviously woken up Joel because he groaned and unzipped his sleeping bag. I laid still, not wanting to disturb him any further. I jumped when I saw his body looming over mine, his sleeping bag in his hand. He dropped it on the ground next to me and turned and went to sit on a log not far away. “Uh- Joel.. I.” I stuttered, shocked by his quiet kindness. “Just take it. Don’t argue.” I heard him say sternly. I cautiously straightened out the sleeping bag and slid inside. It was still warm from his body heat. I shuddered at the feeling of comfort washing over me. I felt bad that he’d given me his sleeping bag. He shouldn’t have had to. I was the one who forgot mine. I then realized, he didn’t have to. Maybe he wasn’t such an asshole after all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note:

Hi! This is my first fanfic I've ever posted on here so be nice pls :') I just write for fun but any constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks for reading!! <3

Next Part | Masterlist

[jedipoodoo]

Jump Then Fall (Sergeant Hunter x GN!Reader)

Notes/Warnings: Character almost-death, fear of heights, canon-typical firefight. Injuries, stitches, first aid treatment. Hunter is a Dad™. Hunter gets the chance to use his grappling hook.

I'M BACK BISHES

It was hard to watch your step while dodging blaster fire in the rickety, obsolete staircase of a skinny Coruscant high-rise. You dove around a corner to catch your breath as the lasers shot past your head. You shot a few more back in retaliation, and the Trandoshan pirates whose base you'd invaded shouted in indignation.

"Where are you?" Hunter demanded over the comms.

"Uh, I think my distraction worked...a little too well," You laughed nervously.

One of the pirates, with rectangular irises in his sharp red eyes, lunged at you, and you drew the knife Hunter had given you, slicing it wildly in defense. The pirate cried out and you saw red on the blade. Using his body to shield yourself from the blasters, you shoved him back towards his friends. They all stumbled back down the stairs, and you turned and ran.

You heard blaster fire over your earpiece, or maybe it was the blaster bolts that were being shot at you.

"What's your position?"

"I'm on the top level. Running out of stairs, and they're hot on my tail."

Hunter cursed over the comms.

"How many?"

"Too many to charge back through. Have you got the treasure, at least?"

"We've got it, sweetheart, but maybe tone it down next time?" Phee's suggestion made you flush.

"If there even is a next time," You muttered to yourself. You reached the door to the roof and closed it on the blaster fire. A few more shots from your own blaster flimsily promised to hold it shut, at least for a moment.

The wind blew past, making you shiver as you pulled your jacket tighter around your arms. A few steps brought you to the edge of the roof, where the side of the building disappeared between layers of traffic.

You could barely hear the pirates shouting obscenities beneath the noise of all the speeders, and you swallowed nervously. You were running out of time.

"We're headed your way!" Omega promised, but the scrapyard where you'd parked the Marauder was too far away.

"I'm gonna jump!" You blurted out. You looked down at your knife. It was crazy, and it wouldn't take you to the ground, but it was a durable blade, it had saved your life more than once thanks to Hunter's training. It might just be enough to help you slide down the side of the building to a lower floor, where the pirates weren't looking for you.

"What!? No!" Hunter screamed.

"It'll be okay! I know that I'm doing!" You envisioned your controlled fall in your mind and stood with your back to the edge of the building, gripping your knife in both hands.

The door burst open.

"There!" one of the pirates screeched. A blaster bolt hit you in the left shoulder.

You inhaled sharply, wondering why you couldn't feel the pain in your shoulder. Your arm went slack, and you stumbled backwards, still holding the knife in your uninjured hand.

"What's happening!?" Hunter's voice echoed in your ear as you began to fall. You couldn't form the words to reply as the windows flew past your field of vision.

You were falling. Blaster fire continued to rain around you, but somehow it didn't hit you. You had the knife in your hand, but you couldn't lift your arms to dig it into the wall to slow your fall.

Somewhere far away, you heard glass shattering, and the shadow of a guardian angel burst out of the side of the building, falling after you.

The angel drew closer, falling faster than you were. Hunter's face emerged from the shadow, his brows furrowed in determination above his dark eyes as he reached for you.

His arm wrapped around your waist, hoisting you tightly to hisbody

"Hang on!"

Your ears were flooded with sound, the air rushing past and Hunter's voice in your ear.

"I got you," He whispered. You wrapped your arm around his neck, squeezing your eyes closed as they began to water against the wind. And not a moment too soon, Hunter's body went taut, and suddenly you weren't falling anymore.

Hunter's grappling hook was secured to the floor he'd jumped from, and as the rope reached it's end, it swung you back towards the building, sending you both crashing through the window.

Hunter shielded you with his body as you rolled across the floor

"Gah!" Your wounded shoulder landed on a tiny shard of glass, agitating it further with a painful pricking sensation trickling up and down your arm as feeling returned to your limb.

"You alright?" Hunter asked, propping himself up on his hands and knees. He took his scarf and tied it around your shoulder to keep pressure on your wound.

"F-fine," You gasped as he tightened the knot around your shoulder.

Hunter placed both his hands on either side of your face, lifting your face so that he could kiss your forehead.

"Don't you dare scare me like that again, you understand?" Hunter shook you gently, all you could do was nod as the glass shattered around you.

A trickle of dark red bled out from beneath his bandana, and you hesitantly raised your fingers to examine the wound.

"You're... You're hurt," You murmured.

Hunter hung his head, and his hair fall in front of his face so that you couldn't see his expression, but you swore you could hear him chuckle.

"You just fell a thousand feet, and you're worried about me?"

"It wasn't a thousand..." You protested weakly.

"Sure, cyare," Hunter smiled in spite of himself and traced his thumb across your cheek. He looked up abruptly, glaring at the door of the room you'd crashed into. He yanked you up to your feet, pushing you behind him as the door burst open. Several more pirates, but notably less than the group that had been chasing you, charged in blasters blazing.

With a hand on your back, Hunter guided you behind a gaudy piece of furniture. The room you'd crashed into appeared to be a lavish living quarters. It looked exactly like you'd expect a greedy pirate's home to look like: ornate wood furniture covered in plush, elaborate draping and the softest carpet. One of those wookie pelt rugs could earn you a fortune in the Trandoshan black market.

The brylark desk held up under their fire, and Hunter made a few shots back at them. You were still uselessly holding your knife, dazed as to what to do.

"Tech, I'm not sure what floor we're on. lock onto my signal."

"You got your cyar'ika?" Wrecker asked, and you felt heat rising in your face at his teasing tone.

Hunter sighed and knocked his head against the wood. "Yes, Wrecker, they're here with me."

Hunter pulled you closer, his muscles and body tense as he prepared to run. You tried to get your feet beneath you, to bear some of your weight in an effort to help in your escape.

The Marauder swooped up to the window, ramp extended. Phee and the others were already on board, calling for you to hurry

Hunter hauled you to your feet, and one of the pirates tried to get the jump on you, digging a clawed hand into your injured shoulder.

Hunter was ready for them, though. He sunk his knife into the pirate's wrist, setting you free.

The pirate shrieked a reptilian cry of pain, and his compatriots tried to rush you in an effort to avenge him. Unwilling to let that happen, Hunter swept you up into his arms, sprinting towards the broken window. For a fleeting moment, you were soaring through the air, high above Coruscaunt traffic. You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in Hunter's shoulder.

Your moment of airbourne flight seemed to last forever and end too quickly all at the same time. You and Hunter tumbled head over heels yet again into the ship, and Hunter landed in a crouch with you cradled in his arms.

"Get us out of here, Brown Eyes!" Phee called. And just like that, you were safe.

The ship was quiet but for the heavy breathing on the heels of a collective adrenaline rush. Tech piloted the ship under Phee's directions while Hunter saw to your injuries.

"Hey, we actually got it," Wrecker said in disbelief, holding up the necklace you'd gotten from the Trandoshans. According to Phee, the pirate's captain, Rodak, extorted it from a family of Bothans in their attempts to flee the Seperatist invasion. They'd be overjoyed to have it back.

"Gotta admit, succeeding in these treasure hunts beats any wild brezak chase Cid ever sent us on," Hunter shook his head, his hair tied back to keep it out of his eyes while he cleaned each of the tiny cuts across your face and arms, making sure none of them still had glass in them.

His bandana made a sort of makeshift bandage for the cut on his head, and all the blood you could see was dried up, but you still worried about him. When you tried to lift your arm, even the uninjured one, it felt like you were trying to deadlight a starcruiser. So you stayed quiet for now.

Once your blaster wound was cleaned, it was time for stiches. Hunter settled on the bench behind you with the suture kit and you braced yourself.

"Here!" Omega sat on the bench next to you, holding out Lula, "Since you can't hold Hunter's hand for this one."

You laughed softly, taking Lula in your hands, tracing the tooka's ears between your fingers.

"You ready for this, Sweetheart?" Hunter massaged your upper arm to distract you (barely) from the sedative injection.

"Not really," You said.

"Well you seemed ready enough when you jumped off the top of a building," He muttered.

"Fell!" You insisted, "I was calculating the safest route down, and then I got shot and-"

Hunter pulled the first stitch through and you gasped, gritting your teeth against the pain. The sedatives you used now definitely weren't what they used to be during the war.

"Easy, cyare," He murmured. You bit your tongue and tried to breathe through the pain.

Omega stood by, watching with rapt attention that would have been creepy if it were anyone else. But Omega, you had learned, had been a medical assistant. And being a medical assistant meant that she knew much more about things like administering injections and securing stiches than the boys did. They may have taught her how to shoot a blaster and pilot the Marauder, but she was still teaching them basic first aid, and she was incredibly smug about it.

You heard Hunter grumbling under his breath as Omega scolded him for not making his knot tight enough. Phee was telling Wrecker the history of the necklace and the sizeable gem on the pendant, so you tried to pay attention to that rather than the throbbing in your shoulder.

Hunter's warm fingers traced the stiches to see if they'd hold, and then he placed a cool gel bacta pack on your shoulder, wrapping clean bandages around it to keep it in place, rather than just his scarf.

"Feel any better?" He asked.

You sighed, leaning back against his chest, "A little."

He had the audacity to smirk at you. "Would a kiss make it better?"

"Are you offering?"

Hunter pulled you closer, mindful of your injuries, and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Really?"

"What?"

"You know that's not where I-"

Hunter's lips gently brushed yours, not enough to really make you stop speaking, but enough to make the butterflies in your stomach get lodged in your throat.

"What was that for!?" You snapped, not sure if you were more angry with him, or with the heat that flushed your cheeks. Omega and Wrecker, used to this whole display by now, were laughing at your expense.

Hunter just shrugged. "I'm still mad at you," He said, lacking any venom in his voice.

"I'll be smarter about my distractions next time," You meekly promised, pressing your face against his shirt, as if that would wipe away the heat.

Hunter chuckled softly, pulling you closer as he placed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Still, seeing their reactions to being called a bunch of lily-livered bantha brains was pretty funny."

You smiled, chest swelling with pride.

"Can I please have a kiss now?" You begged.

Hunter chuckled softly, and cradled your chin in his hand, tilting it upward to meet his lips in a real kiss.

It was brief, but gentle. You kept your eyes closed for a moment longer, breathing in his presence as his forehead rested on yours.

Then is was your turn to give him a mischievous smile.

"Maybe I should fall for you more often."

Hunter sighed, and squeezed your hip.

"Don't even think about it."