#His name is hershey if anyone is wondering | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvrxbunny · 4 months

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God I feel so dirty requesting this off anon lmao- may I have some titty worship with the moon boys? Any one of them will do, I don't mind :) I hope this request is ok!!!

a/n: im sorry this took so long bb also idk if this is what u wanted I'm sorry i tried!!

hershey's kisses

pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader and Marc Spector x f!reader

summary: You stumble upon a wonderful secret

warnings: 18+ MDNI, cum in pants, oral (m receiving), nipple play(?)

wc: 1.4k

a/n: it's called hershey's kisses cus that's what oscar isaacs nipples remind me of also sorry abt the gumdrop thing lmao

Steven Grant - 0.8k

You have him laid out on the couch, whatever movie that was playing is long forgotten about and he’s whining your name beautifully, a little symphony just for your ears as you suck his sensitive bud into your mouth. “Sto- The movie, baby. We-” His head falls back again as you scrape your teeth over the skin gently.

You were just playing with the hem of his shirt when this all started, but Steven had to go and be all squirmy about it so of course you ventured further. You trailed your hand up his abs, listening to how his breathing sped up the closer you got to his pecks. He let out the most satisfying moan when you pinched his nipples between your fingers. So obviously you had to up the sensations. You backed him up until he was laying down for you and being the good boy he is, his legs instantly spread to make room for you between them. You shimmied yourself up his body until his chocolate kisses were level with your eager lips.

His back arched beautifully, pushing his chest further into your lips as he tried to hold his moans in. “Stop it, get-- get off.” You pause for a moment looking up. His fingers are digging into the fabric of the couch as you kiss all over him. Your hand comes up to make sure both nipples are getting enough attention before diverting your gaze to his face.

His eyes are shut tight but you can tell they’re rolled back behind his lids. His hips are thrusting ever so slightly, gaining ghostlike friction for his rapidly hardening cock. You’re sat between his legs but not close enough for him to grind against you and it's the most annoying thing he’s ever experienced. “Please I can’t--” He cuts himself off with another gasp and his hands come to grip your shoulders, a warning of sorts but he does nothing to pull you away. You bite and suck at his nipple like you’re trying to leave a hickey over it.

“More--” His voice is broken, every word coming out as a raspy gasp. You stop your assault and look up at him with a deviously innocent smile. “What, baby?” You ask him with the sweetest voice you can conjure. “What do you need?” You watch his adam’s apple bob as he tries to hold in his whines of frustration.

“I need more.” He sounds like he could cry, so after watching him squirm, you give in. Your hand comes to cup the bulge in his pants and he reacts instantly. A pathetic moan slips from his lips as his hips press themselves into your hand as roughly as he can, shaking and whimpering as he does.

You admire the sight for a bit before bringing your attention back to his nipples, earning yourself a cut of moan of “Oh! F--” His hips stutter against your palm in their pace. His lips are pursed shut, giving you ragged little hums of what his moans should be and you have to bring your other hand up to grab his jaw, force his mouth open to hear them. They come pouring out of his mouth, more debauched than before, they’re barely moans at this point, more like shouts of pleasure.

You feel bad for assaulting him like this. He’s probably never had anyone pay this much attention to his nipples before but they're so soft, smooth, perfect in your mouth, and you get the bonus of hearing his angelic sounds above you, so why would you stop?

You have to pull your mouth away from him within the next minute because one of his hands grabs your wrist that's holding his jaw in a way that's more than a little warning, it's a frantic and desperate grip. You look up instantly, worried that maybe you were gripping him too tightly but when your eyes land on his face you're met with someone you hadn’t even considered.

His eyes are rolled back, deep into his head, his mouth is open wide, his plush lips trembling as he moans silently and his hips bucking gently into your hand as he fills his pants. His eyebrows pull tauter the longer he’s cumming, it’s knocked all the breath from his lungs and his face is turning a bit red. You’ve been entranced with him since you laid your eyes on his beautiful face but now you’re getting a little worried.

You lean into his ear and whisper gently, not wanting to startle him. “Breathe, baby” and thankfully that seems to do the trick, all his groans and whines shoot from his mouth as his eyes come forward and shut tightly, he leans into you for comfort and you instantly wrap all your free limbs around him, and your hand still massaging his spent cock as he shakes in your hold.

Marc Spector - 0.6k

You’ve been on your knees in front of Marc for around fifteen minutes and your knees are starting to hurt. He’s groaning gently above you but it doesn't sound like he's anywhere near close. It sounds like he’s just soaking in the pleasure your mouth is giving him, relishing it, losing himself in it, but the carpet is digging into your skin, and your jaw is getting so sore you're afraid it’ll be stuck open by the time he’s done. So you start roaming your hands around his body, scratching his thighs lightly and feeling them jump. You’re trying to figure out anything you can do to speed up this process.

His sounds get a bit more frequent, a little more breathy as you work your way to his hips, just admiring his body, his smooth, soft skin. Your hands can feel his stomach tensing as you slide up to his chest. His moans have died down a bit, sounding more like they're stuck in his throat as you rub over his body. His hips are beginning to grind further into your mouth, nudging down your throat as you reach his pecs.

His mouth finally opens again and a gasp flies out as your fingers pinch down on his nipples gently. You meant it as a playful little gesture, something he does when he's going down on you but the gasp is telling as to how he feels about the action.

Your thumbs press into his nipples a little roughly to get his hips to buck again. “S- Baby--!” You can hear him struggling above you, choking on air and your eyes open to see his hands clutching the bedsheets like his life depends on it. His cock is twitching more frantically in your mouth the longer you tease his gumdrops.

Marc is losing his mind above you. He’s never ventured over his body like this, whenever he’s getting himself off, all he needs is the thought of you, he doesn’t need all this. But of course, you’d be the one to give it to him. His eyes are shut as tightly as he can, his fingers digging into the mattress as he tries not to melt into your mouth. All his thoughts are clouding, he can’t think about anything aside from how perfectly you're touching him. How when you saw the stress in his face, you instantly got on your knees to make him feel better. Fuck.

He wants to last and relish in the romance of how you’ll serve him but you know him too well. You haven’t stopped assaulting his nipples since you found them. He can feel you please hums over his cock and heat is pooling at the base of his stomach, sliding down and warming his balls as he feels your lips pull into a small smirk.

He can’t help the broken whimper that falls from his lips and his entire body seizes as his dick explodes down your throat. His entire body flashes with heat and all he can see is white. He feels all the hairs on his body stand, alert to every sensation you're giving him. He can hear your moans over his cock, he can imagine that beautiful look of bliss you always have when his balls feed you like this. When he floods your mouth for so long you have no choice but to drink it all, he can feel himself shaking in your grasp, your thumbs still dutifully circling his chest in a way that has him arching into you embarrassingly, trying to prolong the immense pleasure you elicit.

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist or send me some motivation here!!

#marc spector #marc spector moon knight #marc spector smut #marc spector imagine #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc speactor x fem! reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant smut #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant imagine #steven grant x fem!reader #moon knight smut

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daffi-990 · 4 months

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Fuck it Friday & Inspiration Saturday

it’s Saturday for me so I’m smooshing the two together.

Tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @lover-of-mine @disasterbuckdiaz @devirnis @spotsandsocks @callmenewbie -> tagging you all right back for inspiration Saturday 😘

Okay so I’m back from holidays and the writing beans did visit me (yay!) … but did they visit for any of my current wips? Haha of course not 🤪. Being near the beach inspired a new buddie wip that is going to be part of a series called Daylight, inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same name. I already have some stuff written for two more fics in the series too haha.

Here’s a moodboard for the series and a little snippet from the first fic, I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night (now I’m wide awake).

Quick summary -> musician Buck is tired of the fame, fortune and loneliness of a life that doesn’t even feel like his own, so he packs his bags and runs away and ends up in the small beachside town of Hartlan Shore where he may just find everything he’s been longing for.

“What are you playing?”

Buck’s fingers pause in their strumming, his left hand sliding along the neck of the guitar as he abandons the chords he was playing. He opens his eyes to find a kid, no more than 8 years old with curly brown hair and wide inquisitive blue eyes framed by red rimmed glasses standing before him.

Buck squints his eyes against the morning sun. “Uh, nothing really, just playing random chords hoping it’ll turn into something.”

The kid moves on shaky legs to drop down in the sand on Buck’s right hand side. “I want to learn to play the guitar, but my Dad says no one in town is offering lessons.”

Buck frowns in sympathy for the kid. He remembers being a kid in Hershey and begging his parents for guitar lessons. He still doesn’t know why they turned him down at first, leaving him to seek out lessons from the school music teacher, Mr Glover, every Thursday at recess. It wasn’t until Mr Glover flagged his parents down at the one parent teacher night they actually managed to attend, using the magic words natural talent for the guitar and great potential with the right vocal training, that they agreed to get him not only private guitar lessons, but singing lessons too. Mr Glover had been more than happy to keep their lessons up, but Phillip and Margret Buckley didn’t think a mere school music teacher was good enough to teach their son, not if he was going to become somebody. Buck hadn’t cared who taught him, he’d just wanted to learn, just like this kid seems to.

“Would you like to learn a couple of chords now?” Buck asks.

The kid’s face lights up, a wide smile stretching across his face as he nods his head eagerly. Buck feels himself melt a little at how adorable this kid is.

“First things first.” Buck lays his guitar over his lap and extends his hand out to the kid. “I’m Buck.”

The kid looks at his hand for a moment, long enough that Buck is starting to wonder if maybe he doesn’t know what a handshake is, but then a small hand slips into his. “I’m Christopher.”

No pressure tagging: @watchyourbuck @hippolotamus @athenagranted @eddiebabygirldiaz @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @wildlife4life @weewootruck @rainbow-nerdss @the-likesofus @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @clusterbuck @monsterrae1 @mellaithwen @nmcggg and anyone else who wants to join in and share something ❤️

#fic: I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night (now I’m wide awake)#Daylight series #buddie wip #daffi writes #buddie #I’m itching to get back to Rival Firefighters because I miss them #but I don’t want to force it #so I’ll continue to go where the writing beans take me ☺️

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bubblyhearts87-14 · 20 days

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How to Fall in Love in 5 Snacks

notes: so i super love theater and i came up with this idea while I was at one. My main account has other asks so I thought it would be fun to post here instead. Don't expect future fics to be this long, they normally aren't lol. Also I may or may not write a fic about Mikey and his person in this fic 🤷 who knows 🙈 This was written by Hearts (you can tell my the notes being green and the divider being green!)

Popcorn and one water

Leo saw her almost as soon as he entered the theater. She was at the counter, across the busy lobby, wearing a name tag. Leo suddenly wished he had supervision so he could out her name from all the way over here.

“I'm gonna go get a snack.” Leo informed Donnie who likely gave a snarky reply but Leo was far too invested in getting closer to her. He was surprised that he hadn't seen her around before, since she looked like she was in his grade.

She had a sour expression on her face, looking dull and monotonous. Not fully a frown but definitely not a smile, her eyes darting away before they could meet anyone else's. It made Leo nervous that she was uncomfortable.

Either way, he was determined to swallow his anxiety and get a snack (or rather use getting a snack as a guise to learn her name.)

Leo patiently waited in line, tapping his fingers against the fabric of his jeans. His heart beat erratically in his chest, sweat collecting in his hands. He tried to wipe it away just as it was his turn to get concessions.

“Hi, what can I get you?” She said, her voice surprisingly friendly for such an….unpleasant expression.

“Can I get a……” Leo faltered, realizing he hadn't thought of what to get yet. He glanced at the menu trying to figure out what to get before he frustrates you or the people in line.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Can I get popcorn and a bottle of water?” Leo finally said, hoping you wouldn't think his choice was dumb. Was it dumb? Should he have gotten a candy bar? Or maybe he should have gotten a soda instead?

“Alright, coming right up.” She said cheerfully, turning around to grab a water bottle from the fridge. She leaned over the counter, standing on her tip-toes (Leo couldn't help but find that adorable) to hand the water to him. Leo shivered when your fingers brushed against his, his green skin gaining a pinkish tint.

Leo finally glanced at her nametag, the sound of her name repeating over and over again in his head. It sounded so nice, so pretty, so lovely. He wanted to keep it locked up in his brain, place it on a shelf and make sure your name never gets forgotten and left to the dust.

Finally he got his popcorn, yet again his heart fluttered when your hand touched his. Was it normal to have heart palpitations over minor touch?

“Enjoy the show!” She said, giving Leo a small smile. He felt like the luckiest turtle in the world.

“You too, [Name]!” Leo said, taking a moment to process. Then he proceeded to die of cringes. She wasn't even watching the show since she was working!

Leo quickly walked away before he could see your reaction to his absolute idiocy.

How was he already so far gone?

2. Two hershey bars and one bag of gummies

“Leeeeoooooooo, can you please get me a snack?” Mikey whined, not even five seconds after Leo had returned with his own snacks. Not that he was complaining, since his brain was still on the counter where you handed him his popcorn and water.

Leo's hands still tingled, like all the atoms inside his body were doing a little dance right where your skin has brushed up against his. God, he felt ridiculous. (Donnie would most certainly label him a simp if he could hear Leo's thoughts.)

“Alright fine, I'll get your snack.” Leo conceded, acting as if he wasn't ecstatic to see you again. Even with his last moment with you making Leo crumple up with cringe, he still likes you.

[Name.]

He wondered if you could tell how much you already make his heart pound and make his head feel like it's underwater. Like he's drowning quick and fast but Leo found he doesn't mind if this is his death. He liked the way you made him feel.

Leo put his own stuff down in his chair, using his ninja skills to avoid getting trapped in the crowd. Normally this sort of event wasn't for Leo, it's crowded and busy and Leo doesn't know this musical. But Mikey begged for them all to go so they could support his friend.

He had never been happier to do something Mikey wants.

Leo weaved his way through the hoard of people, making sure to avoid getting stuck in the monstrously long bathroom line. Finally, he made it out into the lobby eyes darting around until they spotted you.

She seemed to notice Leo too, as time slowed down. Her lips quirked into a smile, eyes crinkling like just made an inside joke with him.

The blue clad turtle got into line, trying not to seem impatient even though he really really wanted to shove everyone out of line. That would be rude of him.

He couldn't help wanting to see her! But he could control his…aggressive urges. (Maybe Raph was rubbing off on Leo a little bit.)

After what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds, it was finally Leo's turn. He approached the counter trying to suppress the dorky grin on his face.

"Hello again." She said, her eyes watching his face carefully. His skin itched like her sight was physically touching him.

"Hi, again. My brother wanted some snacks so I'm back." Leo explained, although almost immediately regretting it. Was it too much information? Was he rambling? Did she think he is a weirdo?

"If my sister was here she would make me get her snacks too." She replied, gifting Leo the chance to hear her delightful laugh. It was soft and quiet, repeating itself in his brain like a record that never stops turning.

He wanted to keep talking to you, maybe bond over having siblings, but there were people behind hin who were growing impatient. Leo only hopes to see you after the show.

"Can I have two hershey bars and some gummies?" Leo asked, feeling light and airy. Although disappointed he has to go as soon as you give him the food. She handed it to him, her gentle fingers wrapped around the packages as they brushed against his calloused skin.

"Enjoy the snacks." She said, with a small smile. Leo returned the smile, not saying anything yet in fear of saying something cringe again. He can't control the things he says around you.

As he turned around he could have sworn he heard you mutter, "See you soon, cutie."

Leo really hoped his brothers wanted more snacks soon.

3. One pack of cookies and a Sprite

The musical was a lot better than Leo had anticipated. The story was interesting and the songs weren't obnoxious. Plus Leo could see how much Mikey was enjoying seeing his friend up stage.

"Ughh, I need some soda. Dude go get me some and a snack too." Raph said, shoving some money in Leo's hands just as the lights started coming back on. It was intermission, or rather the little break in between acts so the actors can have a break. At least that's how Mikey explained it to Leo.

Leo was grateful for the intermission since it meant he had another chance to see [Name]. It seemed things were going very well with her! Even if he's only know her for about an hour. And most of that hour has been watching high schoolers kill other high schoolers. Very fascinating stuff.

"You're lucky I'm a good big brother." Leo replied in a snippy tone as though to mask his excitement Which doesn't seem to work because Donnie glances away from Mikey and gives Leo a suspicious look.

"Uh huh and you aren't excited to see Miss.....[Last Name]?" Donnie added, glancing at his phone. Leo blushed, more embarrassed by the teasing than the fact Donnie probably just got all of [Name]'s personal information.

"W-whatever!" Leo squeaked, face burning even more as his brothers laughed at him. How would Donnie even know Leo already had a major minor crush on [Name]? How obvious was he about it?

Leo doesn't have much time to think about it because he quickly had to weave himself through the lines forming to the bathrooms and concession stands. Yet again he was feeling grateful for Splinter teaching him the skills he needed to not get trapped between the parents of the actors and the other kids forced to come. A...unique crowd.

How many times was he going to be stuck in this line, waiting to see the face that had been plaguing his thoughts for the first half of the show? It was frustrating certainly but he had to remain patient and hope [Name] won't be sick of seeing him.

"Hi, what can I...oh it's you again!" She said, her smile brightening instead of falling thankfully. Leo laughed, although it sounded slightly awkward.

"Yeah, my brothers always seem to want me to get them something." Leo rolled his eyes, pretending as though he wasn't insanely excited to come back to the concession stand and see her.

She snorted and muttered a, "Real." as she gave Leo a wry smile. "And what do your brothers want this time?"

"A pack of cookies and a Sprite, please."

[Name] grabbed the stuff, her skirt flowing around her. She was dressed so elegantly, making Leo feel slightly under dressed. But she was utterly stunning, so much so it made Leo's tongue feel like an iron weight on top.

"Here you go, Blue." She said with a grin, making Leo startle slightly. Oh, oh. He hasn't even told her his name yet! How stupid can he be?

"My name's Leo." He explained, a slight influx in his pitch making him blush yet again. (Why must every bone in his body be cursed with awkwardness?!)

"Well, it's nice to meet you. I hope to see you soon, Leo." She said, waving Leo off. He smiled a little dopey as he walked away, almost under a trance.

He was unable to be saved from the thing called love.

4. Two granola bars

"Donnie, you are such a weirdo! Granola bars?" Mikey complained, leaning back in his chair as he watched Donnie hand Leo his money.

"Yes! I'm not wanting sugary treats right now. Granola bars are a perfectly acceptable snack." Donnie huffed, handing his blue masked brother a five dollar bill.

"Yeah, yeah. Just hand me the money so I can buy it before intermission hands." Leo complained, exaggerating his annoyance so he doesn't seem terribly down bad for [Name]. He's known her for barely any time at all and he's already dying to see her again, taking any chance really.

"Shut up, Nardo. You aren't fooling anyone. Now hurry up and get my food." Donnie replied, pulling out his phone to watch the newest episode of whatever anime he is currently obsessed with. Leo scoffed but walked away, heart flurrying with excitment.

Would [Name] think he is pathetic for his thoughts? Or would she call him a romantic? Oh god, if only he knew whether she liked him even a fraction of the same way.

"Bye-bye birdie~" Mikey sang, giggling after. Leo rolled his eyes, finding the musical reference not very funny at all. His brothers were such dorks.

Leo walked into line yet again, although grateful to see it isn't as long as before. She seemed to be working fast, waltzing from behind the counter to give everyone the things they bought.

"Here you go, sir! I hope you're enjoying the show!" She said to the man in front of Leo, finally making it his turn. How Leo so nervous? Gah, he's scared the money will be damp from how much he is nervous sweating!

"Wow, I feel like I haven't seen you in centuries." She said with a dry smile, Leo awkwardly laughing. Damn, she's so cool! And he's so....not!

"Hehe yeah. My other brother decided to get two granola bars." Leo explained, her eyes lighting up with amusement. His stomach clenched at that look. She was so effortlessly beautiful.

"Ooh, interesting choice." She hummed grabbing said items. Leo nodded, still feeling his nerves like a tightly pressed spring waiting to be unleashed.

They exchanged the money and granola bars, luckily with her seeming to notice the copious amounts of sweat on Leo's palms. Why must he be so embarrassing?

"Better get going." She said, jutting her chin towards the door, "Show is about to start."

Leo sighed, his heart fracturing dramatically at what seemed like rejection. Maybe she hasn't been flirting with him and Leo is too delusional to read the signs. Of course she doesn't like him! He's a cringy, dorky mutant who can barely speak without saying something so awkward.

"Yeah, that's true." Leo replied, wishing he could suck the disheartened tone out of his words. His very existence is embarrassing! She frowned a little, like she was surprised to see Leo disappointed.

Either way, Leo turned away and headed back to the audience with a heavy heart. He shouldn't be surprised she doesn't like him the way he liked her.

Who would like a freak like him?

5. ?????

Leo was....impressed by how much he enjoyed the show. He had never been one for musicals or any of that stuff but he can appreciate it. Especially since Mikey was head over heels for the lead in the show. (Although Mikey keeps saying they are "just friends")

He grabbed his trash and threw it out, waiting for his brothers to finish talking to the cast in the lobby so they can head home. He was exhausted.

Leo couldn't help but feel heartbroken over [Name] even if they did nothing more than be friendly while working. He sighed and leaned against the wall, watching Donnie bond with another audience member who liked anime. All of his brothers had a chance with someone except for him! Maybe it was less to do with him being a mutant and more of the fact he was so awkward and annoying and stupid and emb-

"Hey, Leo."

He stiffened at the sound of her voice, his heart yet again being sent into overdrive. He tried to stay calm as he turned around to see [Name]'s curious but tired expression. She was pretty enough to frustrate him.

She gave him a smile that put Leo slightly to ease, even if he was wary. And for little reason since she did nothing but her job! Leo was a pathetic lovesick fool.

"You forgot your last snack." She said, a slight glint in her eyes. Leo's curiosity was intrigued. She held out her arms and showed Leo what she was holding....a box of dates.

"Umm, what?" Leo asked confused, trying to figure out whatever the hell she meant by that. Dates? What teenager in their right mind eats those? And does their school even sell them?

She flustered (how cute Leo thought it was) and looked away, still holding the box of dates in her hands. Leo wasn't sure what was going on.

"It was a stupid pun. Like a date for a date? And multiple because I want to go on multiple dates with you?" She explained, an embarrassed laugh coming from her, "Sorry, I must have misunderstood some signals. I thought you were cute and I wanted to ask you out but I chickened out earlier."

Leo could have sworn his face was going to explode from how much blood rushed to it quickly. She thought he was cute? And she was dorky enough to ask him out using a pun? Leo must have died and gone to heaven because someone this perfect can't exist and like him.

"You don't need to say anything. Sorry fir bothering you, Leo." She shyly stammered, attempting to walk away but Leo grabbed her wrist before he could second guess himself.

"I'd love to go on a date with you. And I would make a pun but nothing can top yours." Leo replied, shoving the words out of his throat before he can be too shy. She brightened immediately, her smile widening.

"Really?" She asked, turning to face him. Leo nodded and smiled, finding her happiness contagious.

She leaned in and so did Leo, the rest of the world fading to black. He was about to get his first kiss! With an awesome girl too! Maybe they should wait for their first date? Or do people normally kiss this soon? Maybe Leo should have watched more romance movies when he had the chance.

"Bleh, can you stop giving each other the lovey dovey eyes?" Donnie complained, all three of Leo's brothers appearing at the most inopportune time. Leo pulled away the same time she did, both looking like guilty kids.

"Time to go?" Leo asked, cringing at the way his voice squeaked. All of his brothers snorted and [Name] gave Leo a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, lets go!" Mikey said, still looking far too hyper for it to be 10 pm. Raph rested his arm on Mikey's head, almost like it was his way to wrangle the younger boy.

Before they left, Leo and [Name] swapped phone numbers so they can plan a date and talk. Leo waved goodbye to her, smile spreading across his lips like invisible hands were forcing the joy on his face.

"You're such a dork, Nardo." Raph snorted, bit Leo was far too happy to even care about rebutting him. He may be a dork but he did get the girl.

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alittlebitofeverythingtbh · 1 year

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Keep Your Eyes On The Screen

Corey Cunningham x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, threatening, cursing, etc

Halloween night was pretty much the same every year. You invited your friend now boyfriend Corey over to watch some scary movies and eat far too much candy. You were throwing various mini chocolate bars into a bowl as well as lollipops and Smarties when you heard your doorbell ring. You set the bowl onto the table and went across the house to open the door. You were shocked to see that there was no one there. Feeling a bit creeped out you called, “hello? Anyone there?”

“Boo!” Corey yelled as he jumped from the bushes onto your doorstep. You couldn’t help but jump a bit, “dammit Corey!” He grinned, “sorry baby, I had to.” He was wearing a casual outfit that looked really nice on him, his glasses notably missing. You rolled your eyes playfully, “in this town? Thank god it was you and not Michael Myers or something.”

Something flashed in his eyes as you said that, but you didn’t notice. Instead you moved aside and let him in, locking the door behind you two. Corey went over to the tv stand that had a pile of movies on it, looking through it before picking up the original Scream, holding it up to you with an eyebrow raised. You nodded, “yeah that’s a good pick.” You walked back into the kitchen and brought out the giant candy bowl. Corey laughed, “holy crap, that’s even more than last year.” “Yeah and last year we ate the whole bowl, thought I’d stock up in case.” Corey grinned at that as he unwrapped a Hershey bar, “it’s gonna be gone, I can promise you that.” You slapped his arm playfully as you took his coat to hang up, “Corey Cunningham you better not eat it all!” You heard him laugh again as you hung his coat on the rack behind you, as well as the distinct sound of another candy wrapper being opened.

You two were settled on the couch not long after, you pressed up against his chest as you watched the horror film you both had seen multiple times. You had gotten to the bathroom scene in the film when you felt Corey’s hand move slightly. You thought nothing of it until you felt your waistband get pulled. You turned to look at Corey, who had a dark look as he continued watching the film, acting as if he wasn’t about to put a hand into your pants. “What are you…” you started. “Shhh, just watch the movie,” he whispered, his fingers now teasing the front of your underwear. You shivered, “Corey how am I supposed to do that?” He turned to you, looking at you seriously, “keep your eyes on the screen, baby.” Already feeling yourself get excited, you listened to him. You went back to watching the movie as his fingers pushed past your underwear, slowly rubbing circles on your clit. You let out a small whimper, making Corey grin again. “Poor thing, all needy for me,” he whispered, “already so wet, too.” Not a moment later, the first finger slipped into you. You let out a shaky moan as he began to slowly pump it into you. “So tight….” he whispered, “you’re so tight.” Your attempt to focus on the movie was already getting so hard, but you wanted to do it for him. That would get harder when you felt a second finger slip in beside the first. You moaned out his name as he chuckled, “good girl. Being so good for me…”

Corey’s fingers began to speed up a bit, and you bucked up against them. You were now at the part of the movie where Ghostface attacks Sidney at her house, and that gave Corey an idea. “I wonder what would happen if I had a knife to your throat. Would you squirm for me? Beg for mercy?” “Oh fuck…Corey,” you whimpered as you turned to face him. His free hand shot up and grabbed your jaw, “did I say you could look away baby? I don’t wanna have to punish you.” His fingers stopped moving inside you, causing you to look back at the screen with a whimper. “Good girl, keep watching the movie while I take care of you,” Corey whispered.

He kept fingering you while the movie played, voicing all of his fantasies to you for the first time. “Maybe I should wait until you’re asleep, break through your window, and hold a knife to that pretty little throat. I can just imagine how confused and scared you’d be, at my complete mercy. You’d like that baby? For me to take what I wanted?” His fingers sped up, causing you to moan even louder. “Maybe I should tie your hands together,” he continued, “and just use you over and over again. That knife still against your throat, and my cock deep inside you. Or maybe I’d stalk you around town, following you home. Sneaking inside and waiting for my chance to pound you into your mattress.” You whined his name as his fingers sped up again, “fuck…Corey…” He grinned, his eyes darkening as he felt you get wetter as he described these scenarios. “Sounds like my baby wants that, huh? Sounds like she wants to be afraid as I fuck her. Maybe I’ll wear a mask, and you won’t be able to see my face. You can pretend it’s a real intruder taking what he wants. What he needs,” Corey said as he finally added a third finger, growling as he felt you tighten up around them.

“Corey…” you whined, “I’m gonna cum.” “Yeah? Is my baby gonna cum for me? Cum on my fingers thinking about how I can take advantage of her? And use her over and over again?” he leaned in closer to your ear, “then do it. Cum all over my fingers like the little slut you are.” Not a second later and you came around his fingers with a sob, bucking wildly on them as he continued to push them into you. Even after you came, Corey kept pushing them in and out of you, overstimulating you with a grin. Finally, he stopped. You laid back against the couch trying to catch your breath when you felt the couch move beside you. Corey moved to the floor and took your pants and underwear all the way off, spreading your shaky legs apart. He looked up at you with another grin, “keep your eyes on the movie, darling.” You went back to watching Scream as you felt his mouth on you, starting again.

You were gonna be there for a while.

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #halloween ends

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kaileeandag · 2 years

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Preview of “Happy Birthday,Michiko!”

Michiko and Jay were almost at the store when something made them stop. Michiko walked toward the source of the noise, a small garbage can, and came face to face with a tiny black kitten peeking out from behind it. She stared at the kitten for a moment before picking it up, making sure that she was gentle. Jay jumped back a little when he saw his classmate return with the poor critter. “Put that thing down!” Jay shouted. “Don’t you know black cats are bad luck!?” “Not in Japan,” Michiko said. “Black cats are good luck there. Now, what are we going to do with this little thing?” At that moment, a cop drove by and saw the two youths. He got out of the car and approached them, wondering what was going on. It soon became clear when he saw that Michiko was holding a kitten. “Oh hi, Officer Dore. My friend here found this kitten and she is trying to figure out what to do with it,” Jay explained, gesturing to Michiko. “I’ll take the little fella and see if anyone owns them. If not, she’s yours,” Officer Dore said, taking the kitten from Michiko. As Officer Dore got back into his squad car with the kitten, Michiko and Jay continued to the store. Michiko took a look at the list in order to remember what she was supposed to get. Oh yeah mom said we needed cups, she thought as the two friends rounded the corner and approached Bob Lowe’s store. As they entered the shop, Michiko couldn’t help but wonder if the kitten was okay. She quickly found the cups she needed and headed to the counter, picking up two Hershey bars for her and Jay to munch on while they walked home. After paying for the cups and chocolate bars, Michiko and Jay left the store and headed back to the Mitarai residence. Soon after stepping out onto the street, Officer Dore rolled up to the two youths and rolled down his window. Hopefully the kitten has a home, Michiko thought as the police officer leaned toward the driver’s side window. “Seems like nobody in this area has a kitten they lost. I also checked with people on Westview, Eastview, and Farview drives, but they didn’t lose a kitten either,” Officer Dore began. “One woman on Winslow Street says she’s seen the cat for a while and nobody has claimed it. So, looks like the kitten is yours.” Officer Dore got out of the car, the kitten in one hand and a blue cat bed in the other. Michiko took the bed while Jay reluctantly held the kitten, looking down at the little critter. Soon, Officer Dore went back to his car and grabbed a bag with some kitten food inside and handed it to Michiko, who held the bag in her other hand. Then, Officer Dore got back in his car and drove off, leaving the classmates stunned at what had just happened. Soon, they continued walking back toward Michiko’s house and it didn’t take long for them to arrive. Jay knocked on the door with his free hand and Mr. Mitarai opened it, shocked to see that his younger daughter and her classmate had more than what they were sent for. “Otousan, we found this kitten while walking to the store,” Michiko explained. “A police officer tried to find out who it belonged to, but nobody owned a black kitten. So, he let me keep them.” Mr. Mitarai took the kitten supplies while Jay still held the kitten, who was now fast asleep. After placing everything in the kitchen, Mrs. Mitarai soon approached and saw the kitten. She smiled and took the small critter, looking it over for a moment before looking back up. “Looks like this little thing is a girl,” Mrs. Mitarai said. “What should we name her?” Michiko thought for a second about what the kitten’s name was going to be. Suddenly, an idea came to her: I’ll name her after Princess Michiko. Michiko grabbed the small notepad on the wall, taking a pen in the can nearby and writing a single Japanese character down: 姫. “Oh, her name’s Hime. Jay, that means Princess, since you seem confused by what Michiko wrote down.” “Um, thanks,” Jay said, trying to process the events that had just transpired.

#american girl #american girl doll #American Girl dolls #american girl oc #american girl fan character

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denkamis · 3 years

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bnha characters as cheesy valentine’s day tropes.

masterlist. | valentine’s day event masterlist.

warnings: none! some swearing, but a lot of fluff for the best boys

characters: shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, tamaki amajiki

notes: dedicated to @nekomanagers / @meilbox ,, for being the most supportive human being in my life and undoubtedly the reason i have been posting so much of my work here on this blog. thank you for dealing with all of my shenanigans on and offline, and for picking me up when i felt like i couldn’t. <33 i love you.

shouto todoroki

flowers & chocolate as gifts

he’s one for the classics

he buys you the most gorgeous flowers, ones that are most definitely your favourites mixed in with an arrangement of others that all have particular meanings to them

he also got you expensive truffle chocolates, and also some cheaper ones that you really like to snack on

he’s so thoughtful, it makes your heart melt

literally so sincere as he gives it to you too, has a whole ass speech prepared

shouto came home after work a bit later than you had expected him to. perhaps he got caught up with some hero work, a report that needed to absolutely be filed today or a villain that just wouldn’t let up. either way, when you heard the front door to your shared apartment open, you came running over to greet him. as you turned the corner to see the front door, there stood shouto with the most breathtaking bouquet of flowers you had ever seen in your life. it was a myriad of colours and petals of all kinds standing out against the white of his suit. since when did he have time to change after work to surprise you like this? his usual aloof expression was replaced by a soft smile, one that was reserved for you and only you, “happy valentine’s day, my love.”

he strolled over to you, initiating a kiss that was slow and passionate. it made your heart melt right on the spot, your face erupting in nothing but pure warmth. “shouto, these are beautiful,” you told him as you took a moment to admire the different flowers that went into assembling the collection in his hands. “these ones mean gratitude, and this one here means love. truth is the white coloured one,” he pointed out, guiding you through the meaning of each individual one that made up your special gift.

he snuck a glance at you, your face radiant with how much you were smiling at his thoughtful present. “i also bought you a few of your favourites,” shouto gestured to the vanity you two kept by the door. you turned to see a very expensive box of truffles and a few hershey's kisses paired with more of your favourite corner store chocolates.

“it wasn’t too much, was it?” shouto asked quietly, watching as your jaw dropped at the sight of the truffles. didn’t you hear a rumour once about how those ones literally had gold integrated into their wrappers? “no no, it’s wonderful. this is.. you’re so sweet,” you giggled, tapping his chest as a signal for him to lean down so you could kiss him again. no matter how many times shouto gifted you flowers and chocolate on valentine’s day, you got the same butterflies as you did when he first gave you these heartfelt gifts back in high school.

denki kaminari

fancy dinner date at an expensive restaurant

the entire bakusquad was EGGING HIM ON for something good on valentine’s day okay

he’s been talking big game about some kind of secret plan he had in store for the both of you

he bought you an outfit that not only suited your style, but was elegant and absolutely stunning as it complimented your figure

he pulled out all the stops for you

he wanted to be classy, so he reserved a table for two at one of those rooftop restaurants so you two could dine and enjoy each other’s company

“like grown ups” as denki says

you were sat at a candlelit dinner for two near the edge of one of the most highly rated restaurants in your area. denki had really gone all out, wanting to treat you like the resilient and beautiful partner you were to him with a night that would be unforgettable.

and unforgettable it was.

you two were arguably the loudest ones at the restaurant, laughing and overall just having a good time amongst such high class individuals. denki was making faces at you across the table, making you choke back on the red wine you were having. “and then bakugou slapped that dude! it was crazy, y/n, super fucking wild,” he laughed as you nodded your head in agreement. denki sure knew how to talk, filling in conversations with anecdotes and playful conversation topics sprinkled in with compliments for you. he loved you so damn much, he felt like his electricity quirk was on all the time with you from how much you turned his brain to mush.

he couldn’t get over how gorgeous you looked tonight, with your hair done and your outfit styled to perfection. like, that was all his? and a personality to match? damn! he felt like for once, he was doing something right in his life for you. he wasn’t the dumbass everyone constantly made him out to be. he was trying to be the best for you, and if he could make you happy for the rest of his life, then nothing else mattered to him.

your waiters came back with two platters in hand, with outrageously small portion sizes that could feed maybe a small cat at best. the two of you stared at each other with blank expressions. oh no, this would not be enough to appease your appetites. each of your plates were worth twelve thousand yen, so you really couldn’t get more. on top of that, denki had prepaid everything for tonight anyways. what was worse was that the food tasted like a rat’s ass, yet the two of you dined like kings regardless. well, you pretended to at least. as you were suppressing your disgusted expressions out of kindness to both the waiters and the other guests, denki couldn’t help but stare at you. you were his person, and although the dinner wasn’t exactly all it was cracked up to be, he knew that you dealt with so much more of him than anyone else was willing to. that meant more to him than words could even express.

that, and he immediately bought you apology mcnuggets after you two left. then you two really ate like kings.

eijirou kirishima

long captions to their s/o on instagram

this mfing SAP

he has everything planned, he made like 3 drafts beforehand and even had bakugou proofread it for him

he had all the different pictures he wanted to post too

this is a little unrelated but mans definitely showed up to your house with red roses and a suit

LIKE A GENTLEMAN

your phone buzzed, indicating that you had received a new notification from instagram. after taking your phone off the table and entering in your passcode, you tapped into the instagram app and saw what had caused the tiny ping.

eijikirishima has tagged you in a post!

the first photo was an oldie, but a goodie. it was of you and eijirou at prom together back when you both graduated from ua. he looked absolutely stunning in the darkened suit he had bought, right beside you in a matching colour scheme. though the picture was in fact a meme in itself, as he posed like that one will smith picture gesturing to you with the goofiest smile. you remembered telling him that he was absolutely banned from wearing crocs that night to the dance. it was a good thing you had saved him from that utter atrocity.

the next picture was a photo of you with the puppy you had adopted together. you had named him bean, to which eijirou had expressed was the manliest name he had ever heard for a tiny pomeranian puppy. you were pressing a kiss to bean’s nose, the angle of the photo showing off your loving nature that he had fallen for.

the last was a picture of you sleeping against him during a long train ride for a mission. it wasn’t the most flattering picture eijirou had of you, but it was certainly one of his favourites. you looked so at peace, cuddling against his side with a tiny line of drool running down your chin. he was smiling in the picture, his eyes solely trained on you with the most wholesome look on his face. he was so utterly in love with you, and this picture couldn’t have showcased that look any more clearly.

the caption read as follows:

Hey bros! It’s Valentine’s Day, which means that it is my duty to post about the most amazing person I’ve ever had the pleasure of dating for about five years now! Y/N, we’ve been through so much together over the years, we’ve had ups and downs and everything else in between but I’ve been fortunate enough to remain standing here as the person you can confide in, much like you are that person to me. You’re my rock. I continue to find so much more to love about you every single day. I hope I get to spend the rest of my days with you, my best friend, my partner throughout everything. I love you so so much, pebble. I hope we get to stay just like this forever, and grow as we go along.

needless to say, many happy tears were shed that day.

tamaki amajiki

love letters in their shoe locker

for all the days leading up to valentine’s, tamaki put a different letter in your locker

mirio hyped him up asf to even get him to write what he was feeling towards you

and he was still nervous as hell and had mirio stand guard so that you didn’t accidentally walk in on him shoving weird notes in your locker

but unfortunately for tamaki, mirio isn’t a very good watchman

and so you caught him in the act, right on valentine’s day ironically

it was the end of a long, rather eventful day at school. you had gotten a few confessions from some other students, to which you turned down due to someone else being on your mind. for the past few days, you had begun collecting small letters in your shoe locker. the notes were short, handwritten with small doodles and even a recipe or two for you to try. it seemed like this person was reaching out to you to express their true feelings, their intimate and romantic feelings, towards you. and you couldn’t help but feel the same towards them, whoever they were. this admirer unveiled small details about themselves to you, yet hadn’t revealed enough for you to piece together a name. so here you were, sprinting down the hallway as soon as the bell went to try and catch a glimpse of this mystery individual who had been leaving you such sweet writings for you to cherish.

you rounded the final corner and there you saw him. before that happened however, you first you ran into your classmate and good friend mirio, who let out a tiny “oof” at the sudden contact. you apologized to him in a rush, explaining in a rushed tone that you needed to go meet someone. he nodded and waved to you before realizing that he had one job and tamaki was definitely going to kill him later.

only slightly out of breath, you saw a mess of indigo hair and shaky hands sliding your latest note into your shoe locker. as he turned to leave, his face drained of colour at the sight of you. he slouched further, retreating into himself. he looked around nervously for an excuse as to what the hell he was doing shoving letters into your locker. though, you beat him to speaking first.

“it’s you.”

tamaki’s throat felt scratchy and swollen, his entire form shaking as you slowly, calmly made your way towards him. “i- i can explain, y/n,” tamaki barely murmured, his nerves beginning to get the best of him yet again. “your words, they were so intimate. you were so well spoken on paper, i just had to meet you in person,” you confessed to him with a patient smile on your face. you stood a relatively safe distance away, not wanting to overwhelm him by your presence. you had just caught him in such a compromising act, after all.

“i read all your letters,” you went on, “every night before bed, i read them, tamaki. i even tried out the udon recipe you gave me and it was the best udon i had ever had. everything you said in your letters, the confessions and the other, more personal stuff… is that all true?”

tamaki, though he felt frozen beneath your warm gaze, had the courage to nod his head. “i didn’t know how else to tell you,” he admitted, hands now covering his face in shame. suddenly, gentle fingers grasped at his shaky ones as you uncovered his face to the light that was you. “i like you too,” you said finally. it felt like a chord had snapped inside of tamaki’s mind and all his feelings came crashing down in a deep crescendo of emotions all for you. it was all that he had ever wanted from you: a response.

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki x reader #denkamis.scenarios

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bob-events · 3 years

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Friendship Bonanza Prompt List!

International Friendship Day is right around the corner, and our AO3 collection is going out to our authors any minute! That means we are excited to announce the prompt list for the friendship bonanza - which we have hidden under the “keep reading” because it’s ridiculously long. If you’d like to make a “gift” for any of the prompters, you are welcome to, and we just ask that you either post it to the AO3 collection and tag them (but please mark it as a “gift fill”) or post it on Tumblr and tag them AND us so we can share it! Happy Friending

@nowinnablewar AO3: unseelieCollapsar Will Accept: Fanfic, Other types of media Prompt 1: Skip bounces ideas off Easy Company for the letter he wants to send to Faye. Prompt 2: Easy Company craft a plan to get back at Sobel without getting caught. Prompt 3: A Yank staff correspondent (Reader or OC) interviews the officers at the Eagle's Nest. Prompt 4: Three Musketeers AU with Toye, Luz, Guarnere, and Buck

@softspeirs AO3: sunlightdances Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: Speirs being soft (either gif moments from the show, art of your choice, or platonically with a canon character, or paired with an OC!) Prompt 2: Nixon + "I wish I didn't care about it" - gifs showing him caring about other characters canonically or fic with platonic friendship or background romance with an OC Prompt 3: Lipton being Easy's Mom and Dad. Fanart, a fic of a missing scene, or gifs from the show! (Post-war AU feat. a background romance is also ok too) Prompt 4: Any happy, smiley moments between Easy boys. Gifs of happy moments, fanart, or a fic of a moment we didn't see on the show! DNW: Character/character slash fic, modern AU

@serasvictoria AO3: Caren80 Will Accept: Fanfic, Other types of media Prompt 1: Chuck and Babe are supposed be doing guard duty at Membury airfield. Chuck takes Babe to a pub instead (this genuinely happened by the way). Prompt 2: It’s Christmas and since Easy is still stuck in Bois Jacques in Belgium, Joe Liebgott decides to share a Hershey bar with Chuck and Tab as a present. Prompt 3: We all know that Luz and Perconte ended up in a barn to steal eggs, but what happened before that scene? Who even came up with the idea to begin with? Prompt 4: It’s 1946 and word reaches Bill that Joe Toye is really struggling with the loss of his leg. He decides to show up at Joe’s place unannounced with Babe and together they will do their utmost to make sure that Joe cracks a smile. Prompt 5: After hearing Joe say that he could use some brass knuckles right before D-Day, Bill finds some for him.

@josephtoye AO3: corawrites Will Accept: Fanfic Prompt 1: Joe Liebgott & Floyd Talbert, one is trying to set the other up, or some other banter-y kind of situation Prompt 2: Johnny Martin & Bull Randleman, any historical AU Prompt 3: Buck Compton & Joe Toye, do with that what you will Prompt 4: Shifty Powers & Carwood Lipton, anything wholesome DNW: Any other characters, angst is okay provided it has a happy ending, no romantic pairings please

@churchkey AO3: churchkey Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Don Malarkey & Skip Muck. Canon-era. Don's not in love with Skip , he just wants to spend the rest of his life with him. Maybe the two of them talking about their plan for being "together" (as besties) after the war. Maybe some cute "I've never told anyone else this before" intimate self-revelations. Maybe Don's reaction to Winters splitting them into different platoons. Basically I just want any chapter in the epic love story of their friendship. Prompt 2: Don Malarkey & Skip Muck Post-War Fix-It. Don's the best man at Skip and Faye's wedding, wondering how this is going to change things and if anyone will over love him the way Skip loves Faye (bonus points for background Don/Joe [Toye that is]; pining, long-distance flirting, whatever) Prompt 3: Dick Winters & Harry Welsh. Post-VE Day. Dick is crestfallen after Nix leaves. Harry feels bad for him. He really does. He's also kind of like "now you know how it feels, don't ya?" Still, he hates to see his friend suffer. Just a couple of sad, lovelorn bastards being miserable together. Prompt 4: Dick Winters & Kitty Grogan/Welsh. Post-war or Modern AU (hence you decide if she takes Harry's name). Would super love these two just doing some GBF things together, shopping, getting coffee, complaining about their husbands and trading gardening tips. Maybe the convo gets a little spicy after dark. Maybe they've each got some private dilemma the other helps to solve. Or maybe they just wander around a flea market looking for good deals on Fiestaware. Prompt 5: Lewis Nixon & Harry Welsh. Post-War. ROADTRIP! (Bonus for background Winnix but it's not necessary). DNW: anything sci-fi/fantasy; OCs; xReader; Tab

@how-are-those-nuts-sarge AO3: whoahersheybars_3up3down Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: Historian AU - one character worked at a museum/was a historian before the war and geeks out over a few things while deployed to their friends = any character/s. Prompt 2: Penmanship - one character has lovely handwriting, but something/s hit them HARD during the war and they write much less pretty; with one of their friends' support, however, their hand steadies and they heal (lotsa metaphors there I know 😅) = any character/s. Prompt 3: Chess - one character teaches the other to play chess = any character/s. Prompt 4: Bicycle - one character finds a tandem bicycle in Austria and convinces the other to go on a ride with them = any character/s. Prompt 5: Anything with Bill & Babe, Malarkey & Skip & Penkala, or Dick & Nix, I love their friendship dynamics so much.

@speirstookmysoul AO3: speirstookmysoul Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: mentor/mentee bonding Prompt 2: shoulder clasps Prompt 3: overdramatic arguments about non-important subjects Prompt 4: "getting mistaken as family and not correcting whoever’s mistaken”

@kmorecoffee AO3: vintagelavenderskies Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: gene and renee: diasastrous, chaotic cookie decorating! the rest of the gang can be involved too for extra chaos because who doesn't love chaos. anyways: gene and renee try to make holiday cookies but something goes awry. too much salt and not enough sugar? distracted and accidentally burn the cookies? luz plays a practical joke and switches out sugar for salt? go crazy! Prompt 2: gene and renee: stargazing!!! all the stargazing :) just two friends, vibing, talking about life and whatever comes to mind Prompt 3: can be modern au: chaos in the coffee shop! just the gang's shenanigans at the local coffee shop. mayhaps there's an ongoing bet of how long it takes luz to get banned? DNW: speirs. i mean, i guess he can be like mentioned or featured. but not too much speirs.

AO3: Muccamukk Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Renee & Augusta/Anna: Any backstory about how/if they knew each other before, their different points of view on things. AU where Renee doesn't die and what they do after the war. Would prefer racism not be the focus of the story, though it can be an element. I like it when there's queer characters and romance isn't the focus. Prompt 2: Winters & Guarnere: Something with them getting to know/respect each other better set early in their relationship, especially between Day of Days and Bastogne. They have such different outlooks, but in the end very similar values, and I'd love to see that explored. Maybe they get stuck together and have to survive? Prompt 3: Randleman & Garcia: I'd love to see more of Bull mentoring the replacements, especially Garcia, and how their relationship changes as the replacements get combat experience and integrate with the company. Would love to see growing respect for each other. I like it when there's queer characters and romance isn't the focus. Prompt 4: Guarnere & Martin: They have matching tattoos! They got in so much trouble with each other and were so ride or die even post war! Bill went to Martin's wedding! Pat and Frannie wrote too each other during the war. I would love them getting to know each other, or small moments of affection. Or just write about Pat and Frannie. That's fun too. Or Bill & Bull & Johnny. Or Bill & Joe Toye. Basically any configuration of this is great! Prompt 5: Powers & McClung: Basically them chilling in the woods silently understanding each other? Healing through chilling in the woods? Comparing their experiences as country boys on opposite sides of the country? Post war stuff where Shifty's so badly hurt and Earl's PTSD? I like it when there's queer characters and romance isn't the focus. DNW: Focus on character death (mention of canon stuff is fine), graphic sexual violence, hopeless endings of utter sadness, character bashing, zombies, AUs that change the setting (turn left AUs fine, AUs that add magic etc fine). PoV characters having strong racist or homophoic views.

@papersergeant-pencilsoldier AO3: papersky_pencilstars Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: Airborne OT5 (Liebgott, Grant, Mcclung, Ramirez, Babe) missing scenes - can be fluffy or angsty (fallout from Chuck getting shot?), dealer's choice! Prompt 2: Mortar Trio - Early days at Camp Taccoa Prompt 3: Dukeman & Perconte & Tab (bonus Trigger?) teasing the replacements Prompt 4: Renée LeMaire & Gene Roe- (everybody lives AU) connect postwar (I would die if this was a letter fic, but it absolutely does not have to be!) DNW: webgott (platonic or romantic background)

Prompter # 11 Will Accept: Fanfic Prompt 1: Dick, Nix, and Harry being involved in some shenanigans during their downtime in Mourmelon. Prompt 2: Bill and Babe reminiscing and sharing Philly stories. Prompt 3: The friendship between Smokey and Lip because I think it deserves more hype :) DNW: Nothing NSFW

@dansssks AO3: danesaber Prompt 1: Dick & Nix: The time they offered to protect Kitty for ice cream and Vat 69. Prompt 2: Spina/Babe/Gene: College AU? Prompt 3: Spina & anyone: They show Spina all their booboos Prompt 4: Mortar Squad: Any au, cannon or modern Prompt 5: Harry and Moose: Go sheep shopping as a present for Winnix on their new farm.

@anthrobrat AO3: anthrobrat Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Any of the Last Patrol OT5 (Chuck, Babe, Lieb, McClung, Ramirez) owning a business together - coffeshop, bar, accounting firm? Don't care. Can either be a post-war or modern AU setting. Prompt 2: Skinny Sisk and anyone being bros during the war. Maybe him and Frank deleted scenes in Bastogne fox holes Prompt 3: Shifty & McClung shenanigans during leave. The cat story is hilarious, and I'm sure there are more, and I just love these two because they are so calm and collected but McClung is a total wild card. I would also take a modern AU of them being besties. Prompt 4: Shifty and Popeye being best friends after the war maybe? I just imagine them at each other's weddings being disasters. I would also take the two of them as friends in a modern AU Prompt 5: Any friendship prompt that gives life to the lesser known characters would be awesome imo. DNW: Speirs or Lipton as main protagonists.

Prompter # 13 Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: shifty powers and floyd talbert - mermaid/fisher au Prompt 2: babe heffron x reader - ice hockey/team manager Prompt 3: dick winters x reader - college au! tutor au Prompt 4: easy company boarding school au DNW: pwp/smut

@mercurygray AO3: mercurygray Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: Harry + Nixon - marriage, divorce, and everything in between. Prompt 2: Shifty + Smokey - Guess we're not in Kansas anymore - or Mississippi, or Virginia. Prompt 3: Tab + Grant - Chuck's really just here to keep Tab out of trouble. Prompt 4: Bill + Babe - First jump's the hardest - and while the jump into Holland is easy, what comes after it is not. Prompt 5: Tipper + Luz - Tipper's pretty good at impressions, too. DNW: Liebgott and Webster (as a unit; individually they're fine.)

@lyselkatz AO3: Lysel Will Accept: Fanfic Prompt 1: Any group shenanigans/friendship fluff including Skip, Smokey, Nix, Bull. Prompt 2: "The guys are stranded on base without pass (or requisitioned to work overtime to meet an important deadline/exams, if modern AU) Prompt 3: Smokey does his best to cheer his brothers up with his peculiar brand of silly (Valentine) gifts. Extra ❤ if Skip and George offer their help. Chaos and ensemble fluff ensue. (+ playing Cupid/background ships if you like)" Prompt 4: "Lieb and Hoobs are bored so they decide to troll Web. Since it's valentine's day soon they'll play crack!cupid for fun. Prompt 5: Web is a shark nerd and Pat has a great shark smile. Infallible logic, right? (Input from the other guys /ensemble shenanigans are welcome)" DNW: Nothing I can think of, since it's a friendship fest

Prompter #16 Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: found family taking care of each other (feat. liebgott being happy and content <3) domestic fluff Prompt 2: anything fluffy coffee shop AU or flower shop or tattoo parlour or bakery or anything along those lines Prompt 3: university AU but they are the professors! DNW: webgott, fantasy AUS, omegaverse, mpreg, anything mafia related, not too much angst

Prompter #17 Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Era switch: take the boys and put them in the Vietnam War. WWI? The Korean War? The American Revolution? Any conflict that you're comfortable with. Prompt 2: The Pacific AU? Put the BoB men in the Pacific. How they get there or why they are there is all up to you. Maybe their parachute infantry regiment was simply assigned to the PTO instead of the ETO after training. Maybe Japan didn't surrender as quickly as they did. Anything. Prompt 3: Supernatural AUs are my favorite. Preferably I'd love to keep them based in the WWII era, but you can switch it up if you'd like to -- I'd be fine with that! Any type of supernatural is cool with me. I'm aware this might be super vague but I really don't mind whatever you go with :) Prompt 4: Role-switching scenarios: putting men from within the series in each others' positions. DNW: Romantic shipping, characters (Cobb, Sobel, any higher ranking officers above Winters like Sink), modern-day AUs, aged-down AUs (high school/middle school/college with the purpose of aging down = no); a/b/o trope; nsfw (no sexual material; show-level gore okay).

@mariamegale AO3: mariamegale Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Babe and Julian being best friends. They are snarky, excited, happy and having a good time together. Bonus if their boyfriends are Eugene and Spina, accordingly! Prompt 2: Baberoe. They're dating, but they're dating their own best friends. With romantic feelings taking the back seats, I'd love to see a healthy relationship of two people in love but doing normal platonic things because they're also each others' best friends in the whole world! Prompt 3: Roe and Spina being tired doctor friends, meeting up in between shifts or calls, being tired and exasperated and just having their sandwiches and a moment of god damn peace. Prompt 4: George Luz and Babe Heffron being best friends. They'd be a disaster, but that disaster that also knows how to step the fuck up if shit gets serious. But mostly they're a disaster. Prompt 5: Joe Liebgott and Eugene Roe. They're roommates, they're pals, Joe likes smoking weed, playing mario kart and complaining about whatever dipshit he's gone out with now, Eugene is trying to make it through med school and enjoys the soothing background chatter of Joe blabbering on about this guy's shirt, or whatever. DNW: Canon era (Ambiguous era is fine if you don't like writing/drawing modern!), Carwood Lipton, OCs, xReader stuff

@mizunoir AO3: mizunoir (but I use 49thpersona for reblogging stuff) Will Accept: Fanfic, Other types of media Prompt 1: Hogwarts AU! Would be lovely if it would include Babe. I leave it up to the artist if they would like to portray one specific house endeavours or all 4 houses befriending. Prompt 2: Stargazing, can be set in modern times or in the original timeline. For angsty interpretation it would be nice to read/see some Eugene and Spina bonding. Prompt 3: Stargazing (original timeline or modern times). For more crack-ish one it could include for example: Luz, Toye, Guarnere, Babe etc. But I leave it absolutely open - include whoever you want! Boys share their music taste. Bickering and reminiscing of the good times free of war ensues. Can be platonic, can be slightly shippy, AU or modern - up to the artist. Preferably including Babe with Eugene.

@thrillingdetectivetales AO3: ThrillingDetectiveTales Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: Bill & Babe: Bill talks Babe through gay panic about his extremely obvious crush on one John T. Julian, convinces him to ask Julian out, and demands to officiate their wedding (not necessarily in that order) Prompt 2: Harry & Nix (with bonus Buck?): commiserating about trying to keep Dick out of trouble Prompt 3: Blanche Nixon & Ann Winters: they know each other because their idiot brothers are """"friends"""" but they both know what's up and cover for Dick and Nix at various times throughout their lives Prompt 4: Kitty Grogan & Franny Guarnere & Pat Martin: they meet because their fellas are on the line together and keep each other sane throughout the war Prompt 5: Floyd Talbert is everyone's best buddy DNW: No mpreg/pregnancy in general, no rape/non-con (dub-con like drunk!sex or sex pollen or hatesex is fine), no modern AUs, no ABO/dynamics, no kidfic.

Prompter #21 Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Speirs & Shames: These stern, "unlikable" men are just not very social or nice, but they get each other. Outcast gay solidarity. Prompt 2: Kitty & Nixon/Winters: Nixon and/or Winters gets to meet Harry's special girl at last. Harry's made her sound like the romantic lead of a novel and really cool, and they are completely unprepared for the tall, awkward chess club captain. Prompt 3: Babe & Guarnere: Post-war readjusting of a friendship. Disability, marriage, kids on the way, Babe is gay. You know, the usual. DNW: xReader, OCs, hopeless angst, AUs, heavy focus on heterosexuality

@aloraundomiel AO3: ElfLadyArwen Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Dick admires Eugene’s medical skill and always shows interest in learning from him while he’s on the job. Eugene uses it to his advantage, making sure Dick takes care of himself (because shaving doesn’t count) under the guise of ‘teachable moments.’ Any battlefield setting would work. Prompt 2: Nix and Harry are joined at the hip, two class clowns who wind each other up. When one gets them into deep trouble, the other one is always there to get them out again. Prompt 3: Dick Winters is jealous of Ronald Spiers ruthlessness/ability to detach and athletic prowess. Ronald Spiers is jealous of Dick’s empathy and ability to earn loyalty through compassion. Each man agrees to give the other lessons in order to be more well rounded leaders. DNW: Please no Blithe. Never Blithe. You can leave out Compton too.

@bandofmorons AO3: bandofmorons (pseud for sonsofmahal) Will Accept: Fanfic Prompt 1: Babe & Lieb friendship!! I don't have a ton of specifics for this, I just want them being friends and getting into shenanigans but also being supportive of each other... like they're just guys bein' dudes but they're also pretty close ya know! They take care of each other when they need to! Ideally this would be a modern AU, maybe they're college roommates or something? Prompt 2: But mostly I just want to see them goofing off but also being helpful when shit goes down or something, because that's what friends are for. Prompt 3: Some kind of traveling AU with the 5 officers (Winters, Nix, Harry, Lip and Speirs) all as friends and how going on a big trip like that can strain a friendship when something goes wrong or just from people being tired from traveling so much... maybe it's a cross-county roadtrip, maybe it's spring break in Europe, maybe they're going backpacking in New Zealand or something.. I just wanna see how all those 5 boys' different personalities interact on a big logistical venture! Prompt 4: I'm not picky about who necessarily but I want to see Webster getting close to & forming a close friendship with someone in Easy! I feel like in the show/fandom he gets a bad rap for being pretentious (which, fair) but I think it would be awesome to see him becoming good friends with someone and feeling more accepted among the company bc of it. This could be a canon-compliant thing or it could be a modern AU where the boys are all friends. Background Webgott would also be cool as long as Lieb is supportive of Web befriending more people. DNW: explicit sex

#band of brothers #hbowar #events #event #fb21 #bobevents

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years

Text

Calm Amidst the Chaos (Ron Speirs x reader)

I don’t usually write based on prompts but I found this one and couldn’t resist. Prompt is in bold in the story.

In this reader story, I used she/her instead of Y/N, otherwise there is no description of reader.

Please let me know what you think!

Warning: some swearing, soft Speirs

Words: 1,317

Calm Amidst the Chaos

She stomped up the steps of Easy Company's HQ, the least damaged building in Haguenau, practically glowing with joy. Even the tall-tell whistling sound of a missile coming from the German line across the river could not dampen her spirits. Besides, it did not sound that close.

If she could carry a tune, she would have been singing like a canary in spring. For the first time in months she was clean. Actually clean! New ODs, a shower with warm water, and soap. Real goddamn soap to scrub away the dirt, grime, blood and sorrow from the time spent in the forests around Bastogne and Foy. Her stomach was full and she would be sleeping with a roof over her head tonight. It felt like heaven.

Pushing the door open, she heard Captain Winters talking in the back room, most likely to Lieutenant Speirs, which meant Captain Nixon was also nearby.

No one else was around to her surprise. She briefly wondered where Lipton was. Hopefully the man was actually resting in a bed somewhere. Lord knew he deserved it.

With no one else around, she did not feel too bad snooping.

A stack of large boxes against the far wall caught her eye and she went over to investigate. Luz must not have had a chance to distribute the stuff yet. She debated on if she should help him or purposefully hide the stuff to piss him off. It was a 50-50 chance which she preferred to do. She did owe him for that prank he pulled on her back in Holland.

Flipping open one lid, she found packages of cigarettes, gum and Hershey's bars. If a few of each found their way into her pockets, who could blame her, right? There was a large box next to it that particularly held her interest. It took a bit of effort but she finally managed to get the lid off. Inside were several new Thompson sub-machine guns.

She gave a low whistle. "Oh, look at all the pretties!"

"Can you please stop talking about assault rifles the same way you talk about shoes?"

She glanced over her shoulder at Nixon, who stood leaning against the door frame watching her with an amused look.

"What? Every girl needs to have standards about the important things in life."

He laughed. "Shoes and guns, huh?"

She just shrugged as she closed the lid, making him laugh even harder.

Winters and Speirs came out of the back room at that time, both curious at the commotion.

Nixon spoke again to her. "Did you meet our West Pointer yet? Lieutenant Johnson. No, James?"

"Jones." Winters shook his head.

"Ah right. Graduated on D-Day."

Speirs snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah," she said, honestly she felt bad for Malark having to deal with him AND Webster but she did not want them in her own platoon. "Hopefully he doesn't get hurt."

"Hahaha. That's what I said." Nixon chuckled.

Winters sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It will work out. Sink has high expectations of him."

"Course he does." Nixon took a swig out of his canteen that everyone knew only carried Vat 69.

"Nix." Winters reprimanded, with said intelligence officer just waving him off. "We need to get those reports ready. Anything you need, Sergeant?" He asked looking at her.

"No, sir."

"Good, good. Make sure your men get the new winter clothes that came in."

"Yes, sir." She tried to suppress the smile as Nixon dramatically rolled his eyes behind Winters before following his friend out.

And then she was alone with Second Lieutenant Speirs.

"Something you need, Sergeant?"

She shook her head again, now finally able to really look at the man. He looked tired, the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes emerging and his shoulders sagged more than normal. At least he had new ODs on and his hair looked damp still so he had showered recently. She could not help but wonder when he slept last for more than 2 or 3 hours. Especially with Lipton sick, she knew he was under more pressure and taking more responsibility.

"How can I help, sir?"

He just stared out the window, fingers drumming on the desk he leaned against.

"Ron...what can I do?"

It was hearing his name that broke him. She only ever used it when they were alone. He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. Suddenly he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Before she could help herself, she moved to stand in front of him. One hand carded through his damp locks, straightening them from their messy look. Silently he pressed his forehead to hers. They stayed that way for several moments, sharing what strength and peace they could.

She was not sure when whatever this was officially formed. There was the time he had knocked out a guy back in Toccoa that was harassing her or trying to find safe places to sleep in the Netherlands or when Roe sent her to Dog Company to get medical supplies and she ended up spending most of the night in a foxhole with Speirs during a bombing that made the Fourth of July look like amateur night. Somewhere over the years something has shifted between them. Not that either had dared to name it. There was a war to focus on after all.

"What's going on?" She tried to coax out, keeping up her gentle touches.

"There's a patrol set for tonight. A prisoner snatch."

"Shit."

Of course, when all the men just wanted to enjoy being indoors and not getting constantly shelled, fucking regiment would order something like this. There was nothing that could be done. Orders were given and orders had to be followed. Even if everyone hated it.

"How are you doing, Ron, and don't bullshit me, I know you too well for that."

He chuckled, lightly wrapping an arm around her waist. "I haven't killed anyone today."

"That's good. Have you threatened anyone though?"

Silence.

"Well its a start, I guess." She gently massaged the back of his neck, earning a low groan from him. "What can I do? Have you slept lately? Can I get you something to eat?"

"You sound like my mother."

"I'm certain that woman is a saint to have put up with you for so...ow!" She gasped after he pinched her side. She teasingly swatted the back of his head but immediately went back to her ministrations.

They lapsed back into silence, him loosely holding her as she massaged the back of his neck and carded her hand through his hair, foreheads still touching. Shouts could be heard outside, the occasional faint sound of a gun being fired, trucks rolling down the bumpy, muddy road. Outside was reality. Outside was their truth. Here in this moment though, they had the peace they both needed to keep going.

The stomping of boots coming up the steps had both of them straightening and stepping away from one another.

Some replacement walked in, rifle slung over his shoulder. "Sir, Winters wants you out front."

"Right. On your way."

The soldier saluted then turned around and left, the door slamming behind him.

Speirs grabbed his helmet from off the nearby table and his rifle, already lighting a cigarette. He stopped and looked at her. "Sergeant, you can organize the new machine guns. See they are distributed evenly...Make sure one ends up in your platoon."

She smirked. "You sure know how to spoil a girl, sir."

He winked then stepped out, back into reality, back into war.

Turning around, she placed her hands on her hips as she looked over the boxes. She certainly had no problems commandeering one of the pretties for herself. Personally she had always thought a new gun was better than a new pair of shoes.

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #ron speirs #ronald speirs #ron speirs x reader #hbo war #reader insert #easy company #mzwrites

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let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

your wonder under summer skies (15/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

Rating: Mature

a/n: And the weekend shenanigans continue for these crazy kids 😘😘

ao3: beginning | current

Found on Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

-/-

“Do we have any more chocolate?” Emma asks, standing from her chair and walking toward the folding table where all of their food is spread out. “Or did we eat it all?”

“I think we’re out of chocolate, but there are some more marshmallows,” Elsa tells her.

“Damn,” Emma mutters before turning around and plopping back in her seat. “I love those, could eat the entire bag so my stomach, like, expands forever, but all I really wanted was a Hershey’s bar. Do we have the stuff to make hot chocolate inside?”

“Killian was in charge of food,” Anna suggests. “Ask him.”

Emma glances around the fire to look at the faces that are illuminated by the flames, but there’s one that’s missing.

Where the hell did he go?

“Has anyone seen Killian?”

Ruby whistles and stumbles a bit. She has had far too much whiskey, and Mulan is going to have a great time getting her into bed tonight without her flopping on the floor first.

“Looking for lover boy so you can make out with him again?”

“You, my friend, are drunk,” Emma sighs, placing her hands on Ruby’s shoulders and steering her back to her seat. “You need to stay away from the fire and the water, okay?”

Ruby falls back into her seat and sticks her bottom lip out. “Why do you have to ruin all of my fun?”

“Because you’ve had more than enough fun tonight.”

“So much fun,” Ruby giggles, resting her head on Mulan’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you actually kissed Jones.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Emma rolls her eyes and look over at Mulan, who is shaking her head from side to side. “You gonna make sure she doesn’t fall into the fire?”

“I will try my best.”

Emma nods and walks away, passing by David and Mary Margaret, who ask her where she’s going. She says to see if she can find anything to make hot chocolate in the kitchen, which is only a half truth. She does stop in the kitchen first, rifling through cabinets and the fridge to see if there’s anything good, but most of it looks like food that’s waiting to be cooked tomorrow. So she grabs a bottle of Gatorade that she is definitely going to need tomorrow and starts heading upstairs so she can grab her stuff to shower and find Killian. He’s not in the bedroom when she walks in, so she figures maybe he went back out. He was probably only gone to go to pee or something anyway.

Emma grabs her bag from the floor, shuffling through it to find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt as well as her shampoo and conditioner, and once she grabs all of it, she walks back downstairs to the hallway bathroom. It takes a few minutes for her to figure out the shower. It goes back and forth between scalding and freezing, and she eventually settles on almost-freezing, quickly going through her routines and washing her hair before jumping out and wrapping her hair in a towel before getting dressed and finishing her nightly routine.

The towel around her hair drops when she bends down to pick up her clothes from earlier today, and instead of putting it back on, she hangs it over the shower door and lets her hair fall down her back. She’ll figure out what to do with it later.

The light is on in the bedroom when she gets back to it, and Killian is now in bed, his back propped against the small headboard and his phone in his hand.

“Hey, where have you been?”

“I took a shower in Liam’s bathroom. Couldn’t figure out how to get the bloody shower in that hall bathroom to work.”

“Me either. I basically took a shower in ice water.”

Emma drops her bag, and reaches up to grab her hair, twisting it around into a bun on the top of her head. Then she turns back toward the beds, and while she could easily climb up the ladder to get to her own bed, she’s not ready for that quite yet. So, instead, she walks over to the bed, puts her knee down on the bottom mattress, and settles herself over Killian’s lap while he still taps through his phone.

Sighing, she leans down and presses her mouth against the underside of his jaw, tasting his clean skin and the scratch of his scruff before trailing her lips down to his ear, nibbling in the spot she knows he likes all while her hips gently roll against his.

“I was thinking…”

“As you say, dangerous thing that.”

She bites down, hard, on his ear, and she hears his phone lock before there’s a gentle thud on the ground. “Shut up and listen.”

He grumbles, there’s some kind of curse, but really, she has no idea what he said.

At this point in time, she doesn’t care.

“I was thinking that we’re up here, separated from the rest of the group, and while we didn’t get a big, comfy bed like everyone else, it doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.”

Emma dips her head down, nosing along his neck and down to his t-shirt, moving the material away from his skin until she can worry a mark against his collarbone. Or, at least, the beginnings of one that will fade in an hour. She doesn’t want them to get into another hickey situation with Ruby.

But when Killian doesn’t say anything, Emma looks up, settling back on her legs and looking down at Killian who is staring at her with pressed together lips and hooded eyes.

“What? Are you – ”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence because then Killian is leaning up and slamming his lips into hers while his hand cups the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair and pulling her closer to him. It’s all tongue and teeth and is giving her no time to think or to set the pace on her own. She knows that she’s had a little to drink tonight, that Killian has too from the taste of rum still on his tongue, but there’s a buzzing emanating over her skin that has nothing to do with that.

It’s like she’s floating as he’s kissing her. Every inch of her body is on a high, one that she doesn’t want to come down from, and when Killian juts his hips up into hers, she knows it will be awhile before she does.

Killian tilts her head while his other hand wraps around her back, inching up underneath her t-shirt. He groans when his fingers get to the bare skin where her bra usually is, and Emma can’t help but laugh into the kiss, pulling back with a pop and a gasp of air.

“I was planning on going to sleep. Did you think I was going to wear a bra?”

“Can’t say I put much thought into it, love.”

“Really? I kind of figured you were always thinking about – ”

He interrupts her again, pressing his mouth pressed hotly against her neck while he gently flips them around. There’s not much space on the bed, and Emma’s leg slams against the wall, but then she’s managing to remove her t-shirt and settle under Killian while his mouth moves to her breast, lips wrapping around a nipple while she curls her leg around him and pulls him closer to her. She can feel his cock pressing into her through his boxers, almost exactly where she wants him, and God, it feels good. He’s heavy and thick, and she swears that her body goes even higher as her skin tingles with the buzz of anticipation of having him buried deep within her.

“Take off your boxers,” Emma gasps, scratching at his back.

“Not yet,” Killian mumbles into her stomach. “Not yet.”

She almost questions why, but then he’s moving down her body while he moves off the bed, settling down on his knees and tugging her to the edge. Emma takes the hint, lifting her hips she he can tug her underwear off and then wrapping her ankles around his shoulders.

Killian is damn good at what he does next, the warmth of his mouth pressed to where she’s aching and the roughness of his beard scratching against the inside of her thighs. She doesn’t need to tell him what to do, doesn’t need to instruct him, because he’s learned just what to do over the past few months. She’s already on edge, her body unable to stay pressed against the mattress, and her hands bury themselves in Killian’s hair, tugging on the soft, still slightly damp strands as he keeps moving in just the right direction that soon has her gasping for breath and having to mumble his name when she remembers that they’re not alone in this house.

Fuck.

After, he takes his time trailing his lips up her leg, settling his chin against her hip and staying there while her heart still pounds far too quickly and while she can’t even out her breathing. His eyes are hooded, deep blue showing itself from the blackness of his arousal, and after pressing his mouth against her side, he starts moving up her body again, kissing every inch of skin until he’s kissing her while she adjusts her hips so that he can press into her in a slide of heat that has her burning.

“So good,” she mumbles while he slowly rocks into her.

“You’ve got no bloody idea,” he rasps as his hands settle on her hips, fingers digging into skin, while he adjusts her underneath him. “Fucking temptress, doesn’t give a man a moment to breathe.” “You’re one to talk there.”

She can feel his laugh vibrate against her cheek, and she turns her head to capture his lips in a slow kiss as he begins moving within her and over her, pinning her to the bed. He’s warm over her, his back slick with a sheen of sweat, and she manages to press her hips tighter against him while he settles into a rhythm, slow and measured and one that she has a feeling could last forever if they wanted it to.

Right now, she can’t decide whether or not she wants this to go on indefinitely or if she’d like for him to fuck her into the mattress.

Killian seems to decide for her, keeping his thrusts slow as his lips ghost over her neck and her collarbone and then her nose, lingering there while his forehead presses into hers. She can see every eyelash, her freckle, every scar, and she’s so caught up in the feeling of him over her and within her and the subtly of his smile that her orgasm surprises her before overwhelming her, prickling at her skin in one long, slow simmer that she could definitely live in forever.

Emma’s nails dig into Killian’s shoulder hard enough to leave marks, and while he’s still pushing into her, she lets her hands fall to his lower black, pressing flat against the skin while Killian’s head falls to her shoulder, his lips pressing warmly against her. He keeps rocking into her, faster and faster until he stills and speaks something unintelligible into her skin.

Damn, Killian Jones.

Just, damn.

“And you complained about the bunkbeds,” Emma laughs as she waits for Killian to catch his breath.

“Not enough bloody space,” he mumbles before rolling off of her and standing up, grabbing his boxers off the floor and cleaning up with them. “If we mess these sheets up, someone will definitely see before we manage to get them in the wash.”

“You think ahead way too much.”

“I like to be prepared.” He shrugs and walks over to his bag, grabbing another pair of boxers and slipping them on before tossing Emma her t-shirt.

“Why are we getting dressed?”

“Door doesn’t lock, and our friends have no boundaries.”

“Ah, I have a solution for that.”

Emma rises from the bed, her legs still a little shaky, and slips on her t-shirt before walking across the room. She grabs the small chair next to the dresser and walks it to the door, propping it up underneath the knob.

“There,” she claps, “problem solved.”

Killian chuckles and settles down on the bottom mattress again. When Emma joins him, he shifts to the side, turning so she can stick her leg between his calves and rest her head on his shoulder. His hand wraps around her back, and he draws circles on her back, soothing her into a drowsy bliss that soon takes her.

-/-

Emma wakes to the extremely obnoxious sounds of birds outside her window, a constant chirping and chittering, and she should have put in her ear plugs before falling asleep.

“Oh my God, why do people like nature?” she huffs, opening her eyes and stretching her aching back only to realize that the warm body she slept next to last night is no longer there.

Huh.

This is a ridiculously small bed. It’s literally made for children. She should have felt Killian getting out of bed.

Emma sits up and reaches her arms above her head, stretching and pulling at all of the sore muscles. It’s like her entire body is on fire, and they’re probably going hiking again today. She is definitely going to need some ibuprofen or something.

Is she old in that the first thing she thinks of when she wakes up is ibuprofen?

Throwing the covers off her legs, Emma stands from the bed and reaches down on the floor to grab the t-shirt she’d put on after her shower last night and then pulls all of her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’ll have to fix that later, but from the feel of it, she can tell brushing it is going to be beyond a nightmare.

She slept with it wet without brushing through it and then Killian had run his hands through her hair, so there was really no way she was getting out of this predicament.

The door to the bedroom opens with a creak, and Killian steps inside. His hair is black with water, and he’s already dressed in a pair of black running shorts and a fitted pullover. Did he go running?

“Hey,” he mumbles in greeting, popping out an Air Pod she’s just now seeing.

Yeah, he went running.

“Good morning. What time did you get up this morning?”

He shrugs and toes off his trainers. “Early.”

“You should have woken me up. I know I’m no Skipper, but I make a good running partner even if my entire body hurts right now. My legs can be steady.”

He quietly chuckles, and she keeps waiting for him to look her in the eye and flash that smile she’s so accustomed to, but he keeps staring at his fingers as the hold onto the bottom of his pullover.

Something’s wrong.

Her superpower is going off, but it’s not…she doesn’t know why exactly she has this heaviness in the pit of her stomach.

“Swan, can I talk to you about something?” Killian asks, finally looking up at her.

Emma can see his eyes, but the smile is definitely not there.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma nods.

Killian reaches up to scratch behind his hear before he paces back and forth in the room, moving over to the window before leaning up against it.

“Look, you’re,” he finally begins, “damn, Swan, you’re fucking incredible. It’s bloody insane how good it feels to be with you. But I think it might be best for us to stop.”

It’s like she’s been slapped.

That’s the only thing she can compare it to.

She’s been slapped and punched in the gut and suddenly her legs aren’t so steady anymore.

Where the hell did this come from?

Emma opens her mouth to ask why, but she quickly snaps it shut. Killian isn’t one to mince words. He chooses them carefully. He always has. If he wanted to give her an explanation, he would have before he gave her any time to talk.

If he doesn’t want to sleep together anymore, that’s fine.

That’s what they agreed to.

There’s probably someone else. Women are always floating around him, flirting and talking and trying to make him laugh. He has to meet as many people in a day that she does, and maybe he found one that’s piqued his interest.

Emma swallows the lump in her throat and attempts to balance the toothpicks that are holding her up right now. She really needs to sit down or lean up against something, but she’s not going to budge from her spot.

“Oh, o-okay,” Emma finally sputters out, losing a bit of her balance despite herself. “If that’s what you want, that’s fine.” “Love, I – ”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” she interrupts, holding her hand up. “It was a good arrangement, KJ, but that’s what it was – an arrangement. Either of us could end it whenever, no hard feelings.”

He nods, slowly, all while his gaze never leaves hers. She swears that she sees his jaw clench, but that could have just been an illusion, a product of her still tired mind and body.

“Right. No hard feelings.” Killian moves away from the window and walks toward her, hovering so close she can feel the heat of his body and smell the saltiness of his sweat before his lips lightly brush against her cheek, his scruff scratching soon after. “I need to take another shower. I’ll see you downstairs for breakfast, aye? Maybe do something with that mess you call your hair.”

“Shut up,” Emma laughs, pushing his chest so he moves away from her. “Half of that is your fault.”

He half shrugs before bending down to grab clothes out of his bag. “Perhaps.”

And then he’s walking out the bedroom door like she’s not standing here with shaky legs and a heartbeat so erratic she hopes an ambulance can get here soon.

Fuck.

What just happened?

No, no.

Nope.

Emma is not going to let herself think about any of it. It’s early and she’s got half of a hangover, and her brain isn’t functioning. That’s why she feels so off-kilter.

It’s the half hangover and the distinct lack of coffee and greasy breakfast food in her stomach.

Coffee and food. That’s what she’s going to focus on.

With a deep breath in and out, Emma goes to her own bag, grabbing her brush and working through the knots in her hair. It’s painful as hell and takes far too long, and while it leaves her hair bushy and a little too much like Hermione Granger in the early movies, there at least aren’t knots anymore. She pulls on a pair of shorts and then some socks before gathering all of the things she needs to get ready for today.

Everything is completely and totally normal, and she is not going to act otherwise.

By the time she’s brushed her teeth and washed her face, Emma feels almost normal. Her hangover is definitely still there, the headache creeping into the corners of her head and settling there, but thankfully, she smells bacon and coffee when she walks into the kitchen. David is standing at the stove, and Emma pumps her fist when she sees pancakes on the griddle.

“Bless you,” Emma sighs as she walks toward him. “You’re making enough for me, right?”

“I know better than to be in the same five-mile radius as you and to not cook you pancakes.” He leans down and brushes his lips over the top of her head because David is the epitome of a father figure right now. All she needs now is some kind of misguided lecture on her life choices. She could actually use one of those right now. “You’re up earlier than I thought you would be. Everyone but Elsa is asleep.”

“Killian’s awake. He apparently went for a run this morning.”

“He was smart and didn’t drink as much as us, so he’s probably the only one thinking clearly.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Emma muddles around the kitchen, finding the largest mug she can find and pouring coffee in it before adding milk since there’s no creamer, and then fixing herself a plate of food. As she sits down at the counter, she sees Elsa walk into the kitchen. She doesn’t look anywhere near as dead as Emma feels, but she also probably got a heck of a lot more sleep last night and wasn’t broken up with – wait, no. That didn’t happen to Emma. She needs to wipe that thought right out of her mind and never think of it again.

This is fine.

This is normal.

This is how it has always been.

Elsa and David talk as David continues to cook, and Emma stuffs a forkful of eggs in her mouth. She needs food and to get over this hangover, and really, she is far too young to have such a bad hangover after so few drinks.

She isn’t even twenty-eight yet. She should be able to still drink and then not feel like hell afterward.

“Something smells delicious,” Killian sighs as he walks into the kitchen. His hair is now wet from his shower instead of sweat, and he’s changed into an almost identical pullover and pair of shorts.

“Thanks, mate. It’s just from a box,” David chuckles.

“Oh, Dave, I hate to break it to you, but I was talking about Emma, not your cooking. Though, it does smell heavenly in here.”

Emma feels heat rise in her cheeks and something else drop in her stomach, and she doesn’t even try to avoid Killian’s gaze. He flashes his teeth at her before winking, and it’s like nothing has changed.

Good.

That’s good, right?

Killian jokes around with David and tells Elsa good morning as he fixes his own plate. He sits at the counter next to her, and he stays there throughout breakfast, even as everyone else wakes up and stumbles into the kitchen, all in different states of distress. He stays and talks and laughs, and for a few moments at a time, Emma can imagine that everything is normal, that nothing has changed despite this pit that keeps growing in her stomach.

“David,” Elsa starts, “I have to say that you make a hell of a breakfast. Liam could learn from you.” “Oi, what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” Liam grumbles, his mouth obviously full of food.

“That I didn’t fall in love with you for your cooking.”

“Really? Then what was it? My looks? My undeniable charm?”

Elsa laughs as she leans forward to press her lips into Liam’s cheek. “Your humbleness, honey, obviously.”

“Oh, Elsa,” Anna interrupts, “what about what you told me that one time?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“You know – ” Anna waves her fork in the air before putting it down as the room quiets, everyone suddenly listening to this conversation “ – like when you said that you knew that you loved Liam because he was the first man who had ever made you feel comfortable in a relationship. It was like he didn’t make you chase him or play games. You knew where you stood, and it was just, you know, solid.”

“Solid,” Liam repeats slowly. “I like that. I mean, I think of myself as passionate and romantic and thrilling, but I like solid too.”

“I like that my sister just told everyone something I told her in confidence.”

Liam chuckles and then reaches up to cup Elsa’s cheek, his hand covering the blush that’s painted itself there, and then he kisses her.

Emma looks away, suddenly feeling like she is intruding on the most private of moments, and as she turns her head, she catches Killian’s eyes and the hard set of his jaw as he looks at his brother.

Solid.

Comfortable.

He makes her feel comfortable in way that she has never felt before, and that’s how she knew that she had true feelings for him.

Oh fucking hell.

That’s how Killian makes Emma feel, how he always has even when she didn’t realize it.

Neal used to always have her on edge. He was always playing games and making her second guess what his intentions were or if he was being truthful, and in their five years together, she doesn’t know that she ever felt comfortable.

What an utterly shitty thing to realize as she finally realizes why she has this pit in her stomach.

She’s fooled around and developed feelings for the one person who has the ability to shatter her, and he ended a part of their relationship that she’d really grown accustomed to.

It hasn’t been just sex for her in a long time, and Emma had no idea.

Maybe Killian did, though. Maybe that’s why he ended it.

He was trying to save her from herself by stopping things before they went too far.

Too late.

-/-

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#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 15: Midnight Manhattan]

A/N: Hi y’all! Thank you so much for your patience and support. I think it’ll be worth it...this chapter has something you’ve been waiting for. Only three more chapters left after this one! 💜

Chapter summary: A family visit turns awkward, Chrissie loses her cool, Roger and Y/N have a difficult conversation, John tells the truth.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies, miscarriage, cute kids, drama, angst, more drama, more angst.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen @anotheronewritesthedust1 @pomjompish @writerxinthedark @culturefiendtrashqueen @allauraleigh@deakydeacy

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

They say losing a child will destroy a marriage, and you’re sure that’s often true; but it didn’t destroy yours.

Roger is the only one who can truly understand—who can feel that same aching and eternal, ravening absence in his bones—because he’s the only one who lost her too. He mourns with you, he stays awake through long nights with you, and when the future seems too oppressively bleak to imagine he drags you back into the light with tired daybreak smiles exchanged over mugs of tea and songs plucked on his acoustic guitar by the roaring fireplace, stories and jokes, walks through the green trellises of Hyde Park and the marble halls of the British Museum filled with ancient treasures stolen from Egypt and India and the Yucatan Peninsula, Italy and Greece, leaving craters of hollow memory littered across the planet like the imprint of the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs.

Together you bury her ashes in the garden behind the Surrey house. John brings you a pot of white calla lilies, and when the weather warms you plant them beside the small black stone carved with two names you never speak: Joan Aurora. Together you watch the blossoms grow up and grow old and wither back into the earth like everything does when the clock runs out, when the universe claims back the debt of life we borrow thinking that we own it. And through it all Roger is so persistently kind and patient and present that you’re willing to try for another pregnancy, despite the odds stacked against you like moving boxes, despite the crushing heartache that another loss would entail; despite your fearful, growing suspicion that in both casinos and the genetic lottery, the house always wins.

It never happens again, and you reach a sort of peace with this; but it’s a peace that makes you feel small and immaterial, like when you think too much about how vast the universe really is, like when you wake up restless before the dawn and wander out onto the cracked cobblestones in the garden as the sun burns the darkness off the world from east to west, watching the stars as they vanish in a sky bloodied with another world’s light.

A year passes, and then another, and then another; and every February 15th John sends you a new pot of white calla lilies to plant in the garden where other people’s children play.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Look, look, look!” Laszlo frenetically waves a crayon illustration in front of your face. On his head is the hat you knitted for him, green and featuring a large white L and with sprigs of fluffy brown hair like John’s peeking out around the edges. “I can draw like Daddy!”

It’s November 24th, 1981, and Queen is in Montreal. The band is playing two sold-out shows, one tonight and one tomorrow, and Brian and John have flown in their families for one last visit to tide their wives and children over until the touring break at Christmas. Laszlo is six years old now, Anna nearly five, Lena three, Antoni—fast asleep and presumably dreaming of such complexities as Hershey’s chocolate bars and Care Bear plushies—two; and there have been no additional Deacon children, a fact which seems to be the source of some disharmony between John and Veronica. What Laszlo has drawn with his rainbow of Crayolas most closely resembles a very chubby banana, but with black spots like a Dalmatian’s.

“Oh my goodness, you’re a young Picasso!” you exclaim. “It’s amazing! It’s a...it’s a...a...” Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up. “It’s a...giraffe...?”

“Yeah!” Laszlo confirms, grinning.

Oh thank god.

“Very impressive,” John tells you. “I would have guessed pineapple with leprosy.”

“It’s not a leopard, Daddy,” Laszlo says seriously.

“Yes of course, I didn’t say leopard, I said leprosy, which is entirely different—”

“It’s not a leopard!” Laszlo insists.

“You heard the kid, Deaks,” Roger says, winking. “No leopards. Come over here, kiddo, let me see the nice giraffe...oh yes, it is so obviously a giraffe, you can tell by the expertly placed spots...”

“You’re so good with them,” Veronica marvels, perhaps not quite approvingly, noting how Antoni is dozing peacefully against your chest, a red hat stitched with a massive A snug over his jumble of auburn hair. “He never sleeps for anyone. Not even me.”

“Being comfortable to nap on is one of my many talents.”

“It’s true,” Roger notes, smiling, combing through the knots in his brittle bleached hair.

“No, no, no, don’t try to be modest, you’ve always been fantastically good at caring for people. I remember Brian was half dead when you brought him home from that hospital in Boston.” Chrissie is sitting on the floor of the dressing room with Anna and Lena, helping to facilitate a glamorous wedding for Barbie and Ken. Teddy and Evelyn, both four years old and with massive mops of dark ringlets, are scribbling on coloring book pages of screeching dinosaurs and plunging prehistoric comets above tangles of jungle treetops.

“Hmm,” Veronica agrees lukewarmly. “You’ll be a wonderful mother to your own one day.”

You wince, bite your lower lip, peer down at Antoni’s pacific little face. His eyes, when they’re open, are a greyish blue like John’s. Chrissie kicks Veronica’s ankle and glares at her. Brian glances over from where he’s tuning his Red Special, one rangy leg propped up on a chair.

“Not so sure that’s in the cards,” you demur.

“Keep praying, dear,” Veronica offers. “The Lord will provide in his own time.”

You blink at her. She stares pityingly back with infuriating, weepy eyes. Everyone is suddenly very quiet, except for Freddie; he starts humming Another One Bites The Dust and taps his white Adidas sneakers in rhythm.

“What uniquely helpful advice,” you reply.

“Well, surely one doesn’t need biological children to be fulfilled in life,” Roger tells Veronica lightly, like it’s a warning.

She looks thunderstruck, like this is such a novel concept, like Roger just shared with her the secret to time travel or immortal life. “Perhaps not, but you know...it’s so terribly important for most women.”

“How feminist,” Chrissie quips, lighting a cigarette, flicking the ashes away irritably.

John leans into Veronica. “Stop it,” you can just barely hear him say.

“It’s interesting you would bring up timing, Veronica,” you observe. “We were all so discrete about yours.”

Freddie snorts, tries to pretend it was a sneeze, smooths his moustache as he studies himself in the mirror.

“I’m just trying to help, love,” Veronica claims innocently. “All this can’t be good for you, this ceaseless globetrotting. Almost never waking up in the same place twice. The stress of it!”

“What do you want her to do?” Roger snaps. “Sit at home nine or ten months out of the year and, what, scrub the windows until I come back? Take up watercolor painting? Knit the world’s largest quilt?”

“I’m just saying that less physical and emotional strain might help with the situation.”

“Because you’re a freaking doctor, right?” Roger flares. Chrissie kicks Veronica again.

“People should spend more time close to home,” she continues, undaunted. “There’s nothing more important than family. Look at me, I should have another on the way by now, but the band’s schedule is simply murderous...”

“Trying for a football team?” you inquire. And in the same moment you realize: This isn’t about me at all. This is about her and John.

Freddie is still humming, modelling his Superman tank top and tight white jeans in the mirror, cinching and re-cinching his belt, sliding a red sweatband unto one wrist. The kids—all except the unconscious Antoni—are giggling and pushing each other around on the slippery linoleum floor, seemingly oblivious. John whispers something to Veronica, his face dark and furious.

“John should be home more,” she bursts out. “For me, for the children—”

Roger scoffs and rolls his eyes. “For christ’s sake, lady, he’s not your bloody lapdog!”

“You don’t really need him,” she protests, almost pleads. “He’s just the bassist, he thought this would be a hobby to fill his time on weekends when he was in school, he didn’t sign up to live this way and Queen could find another bassist and you don’t need him—”

“We do need him! He’s not just some bassist! He’s a genius and he’s irreplaceable and there’s absolutely no Queen without him, we swore to it, I’d leave if he ever did!”

“You did what?!” Brian exclaims. Freddie hums louder, stomping his sneakers to the beat, mock-boxing with his reflection in the mirror. John raises his eyebrows at Roger as if he had assumed Rog wouldn’t remember that, assumed he had never really meant it. Roger, flushed, fumbles with his lighter and finally lights a cigarette on his third attempt.

Antoni stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and Chrissie swoops in to take her turn holding him. She bounces him on her hip as she sashays around the dressing room, casting fierce scowls alternately at Veronica and John and Roger.

“You don’t understand,” Veronica hurls at Roger, lashing out like a cornered animal, her voice raw and splintering. “You’ve never sacrificed anything. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of just falls into your lap. No heartache. No consequences. You don’t know what it’s like to be one of the people who get burned.”

“You don’t know anything about me—!”

“Look, I get it,” you tell Veronica. “You want John to yourself. Anyone would. You want a normal life. But that’s the tradeoff when you love someone brilliant, isn’t it? You have to learn how to share them with the world. Because the world is so much better off with them in it.”

Veronica glowers, venomous and spiteful. She’s wearing makeup tonight, quite heavy makeup; she’s started doing that with increasing frequency. “I have no intention of sharing a husband the way you’ve had to.”

Roger stands, stalks to Veronica, towers over her, blows smoke into her stunned face. “Ma’am,” he says quietly, so the children won’t hear. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Okay, darlings!” Freddie flits over, pulls Roger away, fluffs his hair and straightens his black smock-like shirt as Roger glares around Fred’s shoulder at Veronica. “Fabulous. You look like a ten-year-old about to make a papier-mâché vase for his mum in art class. I adore it. Off you go.” He pushes open the door to the hallway and shoves Roger through it.

Roger nods for you to follow him, and you do.

John frowns as you pass him. I’m so sorry, that expression says.

You shake your head in reply. Not your fault.

Roger slips his arm around your waist as you disappear into the hallway with him.

“That fucking miserable, judgmental, delusional, dogmatic bitch—”

“Shhhhh.” You cup his feverish cheek with your left hand, weighty with the ruby ring he gave you four years ago in New Orleans, and yank the white bandana out of his back pocket with your right. Then you knot it around his neck, smiling. “There. Now you look a little more rock and roll.”

“You’re not mad?” he asks in disbelief. “How are you not mad?”

“She’s clearly very unhappy. I feel sorry for her.” You tug on the bandana gently, fondly. You can hear Chrissie chastising Veronica behind the closed door of the dressing room. “Don’t let it ruin your show.”

“No, I would never.” But his eyes are still distant, unsettled, anxious in a way that is rare for him. “You are a freakishly good person, you know that?”

“I try. Don’t forget to smile so I can get some good pictures.”

“Oh, I’ll smile plenty. Just like this.” A grin splits through his face, and the Roger you know and love is back: bright, triumphant, flashing the daggerish points of his canine teeth. Then he draws you into him and kisses you, his rough hands in your hair, his lips smiling against yours. “Love of my life,” he whispers, rather pensively.

He shakes out his right arm—the one with the jagged scar along the soft vulnerable underside, the one he broke in a stairwell in Yokohama in the spring of 1975—and stretches the hand a few times. And you find yourself wondering, as you always do when he seems distracted like he does now, before he starts staying out late into the night, before he starts coming home drunk or high or not at all: Is he getting bad again? Is he?

I would never have to worry about that if I had married someone like John.

You fling that thought, that inconvenient and perpetual thought, back into the shadows where it came from; like a pebble tossed into the misted tree line of a forest, like a shell pitched into the sea.

“Rog, are you—?”

“I’m fine,” he cuts you off like a blade.

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s someone screaming out in the hallway.

You reel out of bed in the darkness, step into your slippers, yank on your fuzzy white robe. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 4:11 a.m. Roger and Brian had stayed for one more round of drinks at the club when you and Chrissie left to go back to the hotel, Chrissie to relieve her nanny from kid duty, you to quiet a budding headache. You note—with a vague, drowsy sort of dread—that Roger is not in the bed beside you, his hair a disheveled blond mess peeking from beneath the covers, snoring softly, his calloused hands outstretched towards yours. Beyond the door there are earsplitting clashes of broken glass, thumps and pounding footsteps, people shouting. And now you can recognize Chrissie’s voice, shrieking and wrathful: “Now you’ve done it, now you’ve really done it, you’re going to fucking kill her!”

You throw open the door to see Roger crouched against the hallway wall, covering his head with his hands; he is surrounded by shards of glass, tiny hotel shampoo and mouthwash bottles, Bibles ripped from nightstand drawers. He’s dripping with what smells like a combination of every kind of alcohol you’ve ever tasted, and maybe some you haven’t as well.

“I wish she’d never fucking met you!” Chrissie screams, launching a bottle of Grey Goose from the minibar in her room at Roger. It explodes against the wall just above his head, and glass and vodka rain down on him. Brian is unsuccessfully attempting to coax Chrissie back into their room as she ignores him. “I wish she’d never stepped off that fucking plane because the day she agreed to come to London with you was the worst day of her life!”

“Will you stop?!” Roger yells. “Jesus christ, Chris!”

“She saved you,” Chrissie hisses, landing an elbow into Brian’s gut and sending him flying backwards. “She saved your life and this is how you repay her, you disgusting degenerate bastard!”

A bottle of Captain Morgan hits the wall and detonates two inches from Roger’s face.

“What’s going on?!” you shout at Chrissie, your arms crossed over your chest.

A few rooms down the hallway, a door opens and Freddie wanders out in a pink kimono. After a moment, John and Veronica appear from their own room in their pajamas, rubbing bleary eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep so I phoned my mum and guess what’s on the cover of the News Of The World this week.” Chrissie points at Roger. “Go on. Tell her. Tell her what you did.”

He knows; he doesn’t say anything, but he knows. You can see that he does. It’s lurking in the shallow cerulean pools of his glistening eyes like a shadow, like a ghost.

“What did you do?” John asks him, mystified.

Roger doesn’t answer. He’s looking at you, at Chrissie, back to you. It isn’t often that Roger is fearful, acutely and bone-rattlingly afraid; but he is now.

“Fine, you don’t want to own up to it? I’ll do it. I’ll tell her, you coward.” Chrissie spins to you. “Dominique Beyrand is seven months pregnant.”

I’m surrounded by goddamn mothers. “Okay. Good for her.”

Chrissie waits for it to hit you. And then it does.

Oh. Oh.

“Bleeding christ,” you hear Freddie sigh, rubbing his forehead. Veronica covers her gaping mouth with one pale hand, and she doesn’t look smug or vindicated or condemnatory; she looks terrified. John is watching you, you can see him on the periphery of your vision; you are dimly aware of him edging closer as you gaze at Roger, your eyes wide and blurring with tears, your throat burning.

You can’t understand it, can’t imagine it, and then suddenly you can: his fingers threading through her glossy black hair, his lips skating over her neck, promises whispered through nightscape phone calls, haphazard lies whispered to you; reckless, small-boned, doe-eyed children with Dom’s olive skin and Roger’s sharp little canine teeth.

This is the part where I wake up. This is the part where it turns out to be just a hellacious dream.

But you don’t wake up, because this is real.

“Oh,” you exhale, brainlessly, helplessly.

Roger doesn’t sputter some desperate apology, he doesn’t beg you to forgive him. He stares at you with huge, starry blue eyes, booze dripping from his hair, surrender etched into the concave slump of his back and shoulders.

You ask him, already knowing the answer: “It’s not just a fling, is it?”

“No,” he replies miserably. “I thought it was, but it isn’t.”

You nod, those first hot tears spilling down your cheeks. “Okay,” you concede, your words brittle and fracturing. “I’ll file as soon as we get back to London.” File for divorce. File this entire misadventure away in my mind as a horrific and juvenile mistake. Shred the good memories into oblivion so I can’t remember how alive he once made me feel.

That seems to bother Roger, jolts him into urgency. The white bandana is still tied around his neck. “You don’t have to do that—”

“Are you fucking joking?” you pitch at him. “Are you not done humiliating me yet? Am I not ruined enough? Do I somehow still look remotely whole to you?”

John’s hand closes around your wrist. “Don’t,” he tells you gently.

Roger begins: “I never wanted to hurt—”

“But you did,” you seethe, tears slithering down your face. It’s sinking in now, it’s becoming real, it’s materializing from years of gnawing distrust into fact. They were all right about him. They were always right. John’s arms circle you, holding you back as you struggle against him. “You fucking did and I forgave you like an idiot just so you could prove to me over and over and over again how exceptionally little you cared.”

“That’s not true—!”

“You’ve done enough!” Chrissie roars at him. Brian wrestles a bottle of Don Julio out of her grasp. “You deplorable slut, can’t you see that you’ve done enough?!”

Freddie approaches Roger, dusts the glinting flecks of glass out of his hair, wrenches him staggering to his feet.

“Come on,” John murmurs, towing you towards your room. Veronica is tracking him with blazing eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Go ahead, Roger!” you shout as John drags you away, as Roger is corralled into Freddie’s room. “Get clean for her, get clean for her children, tell her she’s the love of your life and marry her and give her a ring but don’t forget to remind her that none of it means a single fucking thing—!”

John stumbles with you into your hotel room. He slams the door behind him, and the world goes deathly quiet. You reel aimlessly, collapse onto the edge of the bed, dazed, staring at the bland landscape paintings on the wall, ticking down the mental list of things you’ll need to get from the Surrey house: photographs, paperwork, John’s sketches, the conch shell from Ostia.

What about the calla lilies? What about her grave?

And there’s another list as well, whether you want there to be or not; a list of things you’ll never feel again.

His teeth grazing my knuckles, his palms cradling my face, his raspy voice as he writes songs on quiet nights, the way he loved our daughter, the way he sets souls alight like wildfire.

John just stands in the middle of the hotel room, heaving in ragged breaths, his hands on his waist. And for a long time, neither of you speak at all.

“Do you want me to stay?” John says finally.

“You can’t,” you reply, thinking of Veronica and the children.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No. I’m fine. I want to be alone.”

He comes to you, lifts your chin with one careful hand, touches his forehead to yours before he leaves. “You are never going to be alone.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You hear the key clatter in the lock, and your hotel room door creaks open. You’re laying on the floor after Queen’s second show in Montreal, staring blankly up at the ceiling, counting the black dots in the tiles like stars, imagining constellations of monsters and heroes and doomed love.

John appears above you, his brow furrowed. He shuttled all of Roger’s things to Freddie’s room after you packed them up this morning, then he took Roger’s key. “What are you doing?”

“Fantasizing about my own death.”

He checks his watch. “Will you be done in twelve minutes?”

“What happens in twelve minutes?”

“We have to leave for the afterparty on a yacht.”

You groan, sitting upright, rubbing your sore and sleepless eyes with the heels of your hands. “I can’t do it, John. I don’t have it in me tonight. I can’t mingle with all of those obnoxious music industry people. ‘Yes, hi, hello, yes it’s true, I am the sad barren soon-to-be-ex-wife, oh what a charming nineteen-year-old model mistress you have on your arm there, I too was once young and desirable and disastrously stupid.’”

He smiles. “You’re still somewhat desirable.”

“Thanks.” You reach up, take his hands, let him help you to your feet.

“You realize if you don’t go I’m going to have to hide in the corner and compulsively eat miniature quiches all by myself.”

“Your enchanting wife isn’t attending?”

“She wanted to stay with the children. Also, she hates me.”

You chuckle. “She doesn’t hate you. She passionately does not hate you, which is the problem.”

“So you’ll come with me.”

You mull this over. “Can I get so drunk I forget I exist?”

“Sure. If you promise to stay near me and away from the water.”

“Yes, I suppose that you, as a convicted felon, would be high on the list of suspects if I was to go overboard.”

“Losing you would be the worst thing that ever happened to me. Who would I call to post my bail?”

You laugh as you beam up at him, knot your fingertips through his hair, see your silhouette reflected in his greyish eyes that today remind you of storm clouds, of torrential autumn rain, of thunder. “Okay. Fine. I’ll go to your torturous yacht party.”

“Aww, what a tragedy, being forced to enjoy all the trappings of stardom” John teases, and then you can see the regret wrinkle across his face; because people don’t joke about things like tragedies around you anymore.

“It’s a hard life,” you agree. “But it feels a little easier when you’re around.”

You slip into a dark blue dress and heels and your bomber jacket that doesn’t match at all. John meets you in the hallway in a black suit. You share a limo with Brian and Chrissie, who chatter nervously about anything they can think of that doesn’t involve Roger or marriage or children or love. Bri points out constellations through the open moonroof as frigid Canadian air pours in and rattles your dangling diamond earrings, whips through your hair. John smooths the runaway strands, rests his arm across the back of your seat, smiles in a tranquil sort of way and actually appears to pay attention as Brian narrates the stories of the stars and their celestial families: Pegasus, Aquarius, Pisces, tiny Triangulum, the lightning strike zigzag of Lacerta, Perseus.

“You look gorgeous,” Chrissie tells you, and she seems to mean it.

“Thank you,” you reply politely. “If only I was also French and fertile.”

The yacht is docked on the bank of the Saint Lawrence River, an island of roaring laughter and music and twinkling strands of lights in an ocean of night. John leads you onboard, waves at the photographers who douse you in flashbulb luminescence, stands with you by the railing at the stern of the vessel as it pulls out into the river. Periodically some palpably accomplished stranger will appear, shake John’s hand, start asking him about You’re My Best Friend or Another One Bites The Dust or Under Pressure; but mostly the two of you are left alone. You drain flute after flute of pink champagne as John nurses his Manhattans, debating the merits of the various appetizers; you—ever the proud Bostonian—are partial to the bite-sized lobster rolls, while John prefers the Swedish meatballs speared on puzzlingly tropical toothpick umbrellas.

Roger is on the yacht too of course, and every once in a while you catch a glimpse of his blond hair or his blush-colored polka dot suit, hear his voice carried on the cold November wind; and you ignore this as much as you can. Twice he starts migrating towards you, and you and John pretend not to notice, dart through the crowds to the other side of the boat, your hand clasped in John’s as he weaves relatively anonymously through ballgowns and suits and reporters’ microphones. And he peeks back at you, grinning, and says: “I bet you’re thrilled no one knows who I am tonight.”

Chrissie steals you away briefly to keep her company when Brian gets snared into an excruciatingly dull interview about Queen’s next album; and when Brian comes to collect her, John greets you with a fresh glass of champagne in one hand and his fourth Manhattan in the other.

“You better make sure you don’t go overboard, Mr. Deacon,” you say, taking the champagne flute and resting your forearms on the yacht’s railing as waves break against the hull. Freshwater mist peppers your cheeks, your collarbones, the backs of your hands. Through the speakers pluck the opening notes of Hotel California. “Oh god. This song.”

“Fond memories?” John asks with a smirk. “That whole night is a blur to me.”

“It makes me think of sharks for some reason. And the Olympics.”

“It makes me feel...” He considers this. “Overwhelmed with self-loathing.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re the least loathable person I’ve ever met.” You sip your champagne, gaze out into the moonlit currents that run from the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean, to the shores of every place you’ve ever called your own. “How long did Dante live in exile from Florence?”

“Twenty years.”

You whistle. “That’s a long time to be away from home.” The fingers of your left hand clutch the railing, which is gold and sturdy and stingingly cold. “I feel a little like him sometimes. Except as you get older, home starts to feel less like places and more like people.” You twist off your ruby ring, glance down at it fleetingly, and toss it out into the glistening black waters of the Saint Lawrence River.

John looks over at you. “It’s really over, isn’t it?”

You nod slowly, mournfully. “Yeah. It’s really over.”

“And how are we feeling about that?”

“Relieved. Petrified. Exhausted. Mostly I’m just sad.”

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “For everything.”

“Why? None of it was your fault.” You sigh, shake your head, peer out into the river, into the night sky, into the stars. “Maybe this is a good thing, you know? A blessing in disguise or whatever. I can move on knowing I did everything I could to salvage the marriage. I can be free. No more waiting up at night for someone who isn’t coming home. No more searching through pockets and suitcases for white powder or used needles. No more News Of The World headlines.”

John is still staring at you.

“What?” you ask, smiling warily.

He downs the rest of his Manhattan, twirls the glass as the ice cubes clink against each other. Finally, he says: “I could have given you a very different kind of life.”

Your lips, slick with gloss and tingling with sharp carbonation from the champagne, part to ask John what he means; but then you know. Your voice is a quivering, astonished whisper. “It was about me. You’re My Best Friend.”

“Yeah, it was. And most of the others were too.”

It was about me. All those years ago, that song was about me. And it still is.

“John...”

“I watched you fall in love with Roger, watched him fall in love with you. Watched this agonizing fucking dance that you do...he can’t give you what you want, you can’t be happy with less...and I just kept waiting to wake up one day and not want you anymore. And it never happened.” He laughs, briefly, bitterly. “I mean, for christ’s sake, I refused to propose to the mother of my child until I was sure you’d stay with Roger because I thought...I thought...you know, maybe. Maybe one day you’d change your mind. And I wanted to be there if you did.”

You gaze at him, soaking him in, unambiguously aware that there is no part of you that is afraid, no part of you that is shuddering or surrendering or apprehensive; there is no instinctive chorus begging you not to fall in love with him. There’s no sensation of falling at all. It feels like you’re somewhere you’ve never left.

“I know that next to someone like Roger Taylor I don’t look like much,” John confesses. “That I don’t feel like much. That I don’t light anything up the way he does. And if you can’t imagine a future with someone who isn’t him, someone who isn’t like him...then I completely accept that. But you’re always going to feel like home to me.”

You’re My Best Friend. You And I. Spread Your Wings. In Only Seven Days. Need Your Loving Tonight.

They were all about me. They were always about me.

“John...”

You don’t know what to say. You know exactly what to say.

From the crowd, a man dressed in a blue pinstripe suit and holding a Cuban cigar bellows for John. He whirls, offers a shy wave, trots over to say hello. But as they discuss concerts and albums and tours, John’s eyes meet yours through the sea of strangers and cigarette smoke, through the shifting shadows cast by flickering incandescence and moonshine.

And you watch him as the constellations and all their stars rage above, the same stars that in the time of Dante sailors read to point them home.

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milfmaddiebuckley · 3 years

Text

Five years.

Today officially marks the five year anniversary since the night her and Chim met, a day that they have celebrated every year without fail up to date. It’s hard for her to even believe that she has been so fortunate to spend so long with a man who treats her the way he does, to spend half a decade with a man so good and kind, loving and gentle, who treats her as if she means the world to him and so much more, yet here she is. One thousand, eight hundred and twenty-six days of her life have known the wonder that is Howard Han, each day happier and more wonderful than the last.

Most of her childhood had been spent reading. Whether it be to Daniel when he was sick and too tired to do anything himself, wanting her to read to him until he fell asleep, or Evan begging for a bedtime story every night without fail until he finally grew out of it, she read all sorts of books from adventurous quests to romance novels and even fairy tales. Every fable, fantasy or friendship there was to read about, she did and soon enough, books became her escape from reality. Cinderella was her first favourite, albeit the less gruesome version and ever since, she found herself dreaming of finding her own Prince Charming. The man who she would fall in love with at first glance, who would travel far and wide for her without even knowing her name, who would sweep her off of her feet and kiss her, taking her away from the hell formerly known as Hershey so that she could live happily ever after.

And she had thought she had found her prince in Doug.

She was barely nineteen when she first met him, her best friend, Josh, dragging her to his boyfriend’s frat party the day after her birthday, telling her to let loose and mingle, try to find someone she liked the look of. And she did. Find someone she liked the look of, that is. She’d just been standing in the corner of the quietest room, eyes darting around and analysing anyone and anything in sight before he stood next to her, offering her a drink and asking if she wasn’t a fan of the crowds either. He was in his first year of his masters, opposing her freshman year working towards her bachelors degree and despite him being four years older, they hit it off right away - or so she had thought. Drinks turned into kissing, kissing turned into him taking her back to his dorm after she had one too many drinks underage and gave her car keys to Josh knowing that he’d be sober and what she initially thought would be her first and preferably only one night stand turned into him asking her out on a date barely two days later. She accepted his offer, why wouldn’t she when she already deemed him good enough to have sex with under the influence of homemade cocktails, mixers and a shot she had no idea what it could’ve been and that was that, Doug very quickly becoming her first proper boyfriend.

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televisionboy · 4 years

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hi!!! i love your fics and love your blog even more! i was wondering if you’re still taking requests and if not pls ignore and be safe and healthy!! if you are, is it possible to write a Speirs imagine from best friends to lovers? ty🥺❤️

The 3 times Speirs made you smile and the 1 time you made him

Thank you to everyone who helped my dumb ass with locations and events.

Dedicated for @immrsronaldspeirs

Word count: 1,794

Tag list: @adamantiumdragonfly @raven-has-no-gender2272 @thatsonefishyboi @immrsronaldspeirs @punkgeekchic @inglourious-imagines @3milesup @murphyism @noneofurbusinez @hufflepuffpancakes @sunnyshifty @meteora-fc @alienoresimagines @band-of-bitches @wexhappyxfew @we-always-hit-our-ass @deldontplay @lovingunderratedcharacters @fromtheoldtimes @contrabandhothead @tremendousjudgesuitcasestudent @georgeluzwarmhugs @sunflowerchuck @sodapop182 @hoosiers-blanket @speirs-crazy-ass @mrseasycompany @vat69nix @stressedinadress @tyenesnakes

The first time you met Ronald Speirs was after the jump on d-day it wasn’t you hanging out with Luz, Skip, Malarkey, and Penkala that attracted him to you. It was your caring side, the side that helped people emotionally and physically up. Was it love at first sight? For him; it was. “And what’s your name, solider” he asked while seeing you. “I- Y/L/N, Y/N” inside him, it felt like a million butterflies exploded. But he nodded and walked away. Malarkey turned to you, his jaw open wide “Do you even know who that is?” You shook your head but watched the handsome Lieutenant walk away. “That’s Ronald Speirs” he whispered.

“So?” Why was Malarkey so scared? What did this Ronald Speirs do?”

“I could’ve sworn he was shooting the German POWS, he offered them cigarettes and shot them. But left one to survive” you raised your eyebrows but cut Don off “I’m going to go talk to Winters, alright? Find out where we are”

You walked over to the circle that Buck, Winters, and Speirs was. “Winters? Sir? Do you have any idea what our orders are?” He turned to you and moved a little to let you stand next to him without it looking like you were behind them. “No idea Y/L/N, still waiting but I’ll let you know, alright?” You muttered a “yes sir” and watched as Winters walked away to go find Nixon. Speirs turned to you “Y/L/N? We met back there?” You nodded your head, yes. “You got any cigarettes?”

“Uh” you patted your front pocket until you could feel a box, took it out and handed it over to him “I do” he lit one and gave you back the box. “No, keep it. I don’t really smoke, just won it from a fellow solider”

“Where you from Y/L/N?” He puffed out a smoke, careful not to breathe directly in front of your face as you told him.

“What about you?”

“From Boston” you smiled “My cousins live there, it’s quite a beautiful place”

He looked confused, almost as if he didn’t quite agree with you “the rurual parts are, yes” you were about to ask him a question but were cut off when he was called over. “Well thanks for the smoke” he brang his hand out to shake yours and you shook it “Anytime”

He gave you a tight lipped ‘almost’ smile and left, little did he know you had tiny little heart eyes and a huge smile on your face and Liebgott came up to you to ask what that was all about

2. When he arrived in Bastogne, the first thing you did was beg someone to take him away. It was unsafe territory and you would never forgive yourself if he got hurt. You slid into your foxhole you shared with Ronald Speirs. Stupid cold, Florida isn’t like this. California isn’t like this. TOCCOA ISN’T LIKE THIS! Ron slid into the foxhole after you, fishing around in his pocket for cigarettes and letting out several breaths that looked like he was smoking. You stared into the dark, crisp, night air before he called your name “Y/N” which led you to snap out of it “Hm?”

“I asked if you wanted a cigarette” he plainly said, Bastogne was wearing on everyone. You had bags under your eyes and Speirs had dark circles around his eyes, but despite that he still looked handsome as ever. “Yes please” he handed you a cigarette and you leaned forward so he could light it. As he did that, he really got a clear look at your face. Bags, hands freezing, hair a mess. It wasn’t exactly a beauty pageant but he didn’t want you feeling terrible.

“Have you slept here? At all?” He sternly asked “I’d be surprised if anyone has” you muttered, ignoring the question. “Y/L/N” he quietly pressed, careful not to bring attention but low enough to make it seem intimidating. “No okay, no I haven’t. I’ve been too busy focusing on not dying” you seethed while whispering. He sighed and his head fell back against the cold, snowy, frozen foxhole. “Come here”

You scooted across the foxhole to sit next to him, “You have a few hours, try to sleep alright?” You stomped the rest of the cigarette and layed against his shoulder “Thanks” he responded with a kiss on your forehead. “Anything for you, angel” you lifted your head up a bit, your cheeks bright red “angel?” You could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks heat up, but to this day he still says it was because of the cold. Not that you’ll press him but you know you’re right. “You’re an angel to all of these men here Y/N, now try to sleep” he simply stated like it was no big deal. You slept that night with a grin on your face.

Luz sorting Hershey bars and not letting anybody even go near them was humourous. When he saw Liebgott try to steal one he almost asked Martin to come over and be his body guard, but chickened out. You were sitting on a stool next to Joe trying to get a bar for yourself, George would not budge. Guess they got to him because he loudly declared himself done with it. When you heard someone ask where Speirs was, your cheeks heated up “Yeah, where is he?” Liebgott bumped shoulders with you “I’m sure you want to know where your boyfriend is!”

"We’re not dating, shut up” you blushed and smacked Liebs arm. “Down by the river, sir” George responded and you hopped up. “I have to go. George remember, Hershey bar for me please!” You winked and walked to the door “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see what I can do” he muttered before Liebgott heard that and started whining all over again.

When you got to the river you saw Dick and Nix walk by which meant Speirs was probably still there. Nix gave you a subtle wink.

“Hey” you softly said and Speirs jumped a little at the sound of your voice, even in a war surrounded by men (and you) a woman’s voice was still rare to him, especially such a gorgeous voice like yours. He hugged your side but returned to looking out the binoculars. “You ready for the patrol tonight?” You asked him

“Yeah, I hope” he shakily said, you were on the list for the patrol but he requested (more like threatend) that you be removed. He was scared, he hardly got through Bastogne with you emotionally. Don’t even get him started on physically. You shuffled around in your pocket and pulled out the remains of your chocolate bar and handed it to him “thought you could use something sweet” he stared at your hand like it was green and was talking, chocolate was brand new to him now. He scoffed but took it anyways “I already have you for that”

Leave it to Ron to make you blush, but you shook your head. “I was worried Bastogne rubbed off on me, wouldn’t want to become depressed. Believe me, I love Malarkey like my brother but he’s not the same. More.. quiet and it freaks me out, yknow?”

“I would hate if you lost your sparkling personality and I’m glad it didn’t rub off on you completely”

He looked into his binoculars again, staring at enemy territory “That’s because I had you with me. You kept me sane” you breathed out, you couldn’t tell if he was smiling or not but you could definitely see his apple red cheeks. He removed the binoculars and turned to you, brushing the hair out of your face.

“Malarkey will be fine, Y/N. I swear on that statement. War rubs off on everybody. And nobody will bring you down or wipe that smile off of your face, or I’ll have to kill them” you giggled and he brought you to him, embraced you in a warm hug. Your head against his chest and his arms around you. Little did you know he wasn’t joking, and the whole company knew it too. When you pulled back, you realized you were dangerously close to his face. He looked into your eyes, as if asking if it was alright to continue. To which you smiled softly and leaned in closer and closer. The moment your lips nearly touched your name was called by Winters. “Y/L/N! Can I see you for a moment please?” You called out a “yes sir” before saying goodbye to Speirs. Embarrassed and left wondering if you would ever have that moment again.

You were laying on the chair at hitlers nest. Hitler was dead, the Germans surrendered. You were interlocking hands with Speirs, you didn’t care he was too drunk. Winters had already left with Nixon to show him Hitlers alcohol collection which left you with Ron and a ranting Welsh. You turned over to look at Welsh, blinking the sun out of your eyes “that’s nice”

“I gotta take a piss, I’m gonna find a bathroom”

You watched as a drunken Harry stumble his way away. You stood up to sit on the balcony across from Speirs, staring out at the view. He stood up and wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your chest. “Okay! Okay! Let me get down for a second..”

You hopped off and leaned against the wall, him leaning in to you. Cupping your face in his hands and gulped “We’re all alone” he softly said

“That we are” you whispered. Leaning in closer to him but you closely looked to see if Winters was there to call your name before you kissed him. But he wasn’t and you closed the gap, kissing him and smiling into it too. He ran his hands down your sides, the kiss was full of sadness, passion, relief, and anything you experienced during the war after 3 years.

You broke the kiss for air “I’ve been waiting a while to do that” you gasped.

“As have I” he laughed a blushing, red Speirs was left standing before you. “Happy VE Day” he grinned up at you, happier than ever

You sighed contentedly “I can’t wait to go home to Boston with you” you ran your hands through his messy,dark,curls. He kissed your chin, neck, and cheek several times. “We can live in the beautiful, rural part” he smiled

After 3 years he remembered that conversation. Your mom told you that war was not a place to look for love but you strongly disagreed because before you, stood a man who you met when you were scared of the rumors of him. But you became his best friend, and soon to be his wife. You made Ronald Charles Speirs laugh and smile and that deserved an award.

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers headcanons #band of brothers imagine #ronald speirs #ronald speirs imagine #ronald speirs x reader #ronald speirs headcanons

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everlarkficquestions · 3 years

Text

Sunday Stumped Day 31

It’s another Sunday Stumped Day!

Sometimes we straight out get stumped. So every few months we will pick a Sunday when we’ll post of a list of asks that we need your help on.

If you know the answer to any of these asks please shoot us a message/ ask/ with the Post number and the fic details and we’ll add it and give you a shout out with our thanks. Any links you can provide will also be super helpful.

Thanks!

Post 1 , Post 2 , Post 3, Post 4, Post 5, Post 6, Post 7, Post 8, Post 9, Post 10, Post 11, Post 12, Post 13, Post 14, Post 15, Post 16, Post 17, Post 18, Post 19, Post 20, Post 21, Post 22 , Post 23, Post 24, Post 25, Post 26, Post 27, Post 28, Post 29 , and Post 30 can be found here - and there are still fics we need your help with.

521. bnedd said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! I’m looking for a fic I read awhile ago. it’s post mockingjay and Peeta still has bad episodes. Gale comes back and the story shows her process of choosing Peeta over gale and one thing I really remember about it is that Peeta has a bad episode in katniss’s room and destroys it and snaps her favorite bow in half. Thanks in advance!

522. 19fundiesandcounting said to everlarkficquestions:

Any fics where Katniss fakes an orgasm?

523. thefuckingstory said to everlarkficquestions:

hi i'm looking for a fic with everlark building up to having sex after the end of the series and working through trauma together. i think katniss masturbates in the lake at one point.

524. imaginationgirl555555 said to everlarkficquestions:

Looking for katniss/peeta fanfic. Katniss asked peeta over, believe baby was involved, he found out she is actually goigg on date, try's to persuade her not to go but she leaves. Ends up in her car crying at the restraunt where she was supposed to meet Cato for date. She ends up leaving to go to peeta

525. brithna said to everlarkficquestions:

Looking for two fics. I remember a lot of it takes place in the tour... Pretty and and heavy. I think there was one part where they were on the train trying to climb to top just to see if they could. It pisses me off that I can't remember more because that's not a lot to go on, I know. Another one -- the team pretty much helps some woman (I think) to jump off the train and get to D4. That's all I can remember...

526. brithna said to everlarkficquestions:

Also looking for fic where katniss' mom tears Peeta's mom a new ass because she hit him then he basically moves in with them?

527. mellarkablegirl said to everlarkficquestions:

Hello! It's me again. Sorry about the tonnes of asks. But I just wanted to know if anyone has everlarked the movie 'No Reservations ' ? The one with Catherine Zeta Jones and Aaron Eckhart. Cause its practically begging to be . Also all the characters in the movie fit so well into the THG universe. Once again I'm sorry about the influx of asks🙈

528. mandelion82 said to everlarkficquestions:

I'm looking for an Age Gap fic where Peeta is Katniss’s teacher and they play piano together. In the end, he asks her father for permission to take her out.

529. waywardangel-wilds said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! I read a fic a long time ago that I cannot remember the name of it or anything. I remember that Katniss and Peeta had been arguing, or were just mad at each other for a while. Peeta went to town and was standing outside his house talking to a girl holding a laundry basket (delly I think?) And Katniss was so pissed at both of them that she shot an arrow at the porch column behind them.

530. 19fundiesandcounting said to everlarkficquestions:

Any fics where Katniss dies in the quell?

531. saltyfacedelusion said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! I remember reading a small FIC, similar to the Final eight by fernwithy. A “five times”story. Gale watches the games and the first and second and comments on some points (actions, words of Peeta, of course kisses:)) angry and jealous. I looked at your jealous Gale sheet, but I didn't see anything like it. Looking for a week, desperate ((Can you think of something?)

532. wendywobbles said to everlarkficquestions:

Hello! I was hoping you could work your story finding magic for me. I remember reading a story ages ago. Katniss gets hurt, Peeta is a nurse and in her medicated state she sings to him or is super vocal about how cute he is. Gale catches it on his phone and it ends up online. It was a very sweet story, I’d love to read it again. Thanks 🙂

533. i-am-batman-chick said to everlarkficquestions:

Hey, Thanks for keeping up on this. I was wondering if you could help me find a story I read a while ago. I can't remember much but Katniss and Peeta were both going back into the arena. I remember there being a part where they were on the roof and Joanna was peeking out of the door watching them. I think she didn't believe they were really an item. I'm not too sure but I think when they were in the arena they were also talking about how they broke into Haymitchs and stole his alcohol too. TIA

FOUND! Catching Fire: Rekindling- Jamie Sommers The Johanna roof spying happens in Chapter 18 (Thank you, @icbiwf!)

534. hersheys-oranges said to everlarkficquestions:

Hello, I’m trying to find this EverLark fanfic where I think they’re both campaign managers. Peeta is from an influential family and Katniss is from a common background. I think the author was gonna rewrite the story from either Katniss or Peeta’s POV because the first version was very well-taken. Thank you. :)

535. suenosyutopias said to everlarkficquestions:

katniss cheats on peeta with gale and peeta stays with katniss because prim comes to visit (sorry my english)

536. weepingmilkshakesandwich said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! Any fics where Katniss wears Peeta's jacket or shirt and other people notice?

The Bet by amelia_day, Peeta’s sweatshirt (Thank you, @567inpanem!)

537. ryookineko said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi Guys, I am looking for a Pride and Prejudice type fanfic where Peeta is a merchant and Gale is like a dark bad Darcy. Katniss and Prim lives with Haymitch and Effie is like their governess trying to get Katniss married. I tried the master lists but couldn’t find it. Thanks!

FOUND Prospects & Propriety - juniebugg

538.

do you have any 5+1 or 4+1 fics?

539. the-fire-might-be-shooting-at-us said:

Hi! I'm looking for a fit where Peeta doesn't mention Katniss or his love for her in THG and so after the games he basically gets turned into Finnick 2.0. I think there was an unrequited Katniss/Gale relationship at some point but I'm not sure.

540. bethpeaches123 said:

Hi, you wonderful people! I’m looking for a fic where Peeta is a teacher/prof and Katniss is a student and they run into each other at a coffee shop one night and instead of her taking the bus he drives her home. Anyone know which fic I’m talking about? That’s literally the only thing I remember because I kept picturing the coffee shop i frequent. Thank you for your help!!

FOUND! The Professor by atetheredmind. (Thank you @mrspeetamellark and @sunsetsrmydreams!)

541. mellarkablegirl said to everlarkficquestions:

the second one where Katniss's mother sells her villa/cottage to Peet and Finnick who open a restaurant or bed and breakfast there. I think Katniss moves back in with her mother when this happens .

542. allonsycaptain said to everlarkficquestions:

hey, could you please help me find a fic? i read it this summer, in the story peeta and katniss were taking pills to treat their depression/ptsd, and then they stopped taking them because they couldn’t have sex because of them, and then they were sick later and felt terrible because they stopped taking them.. thank you for your help:)

FOUND! Cold Embers - lieselmemengers (Thank you, @rosegardeninwinter!)

543. Hey guys thank your for all the hard work! I am searching for a fic that I dont remember its name, is about Katniss and Peeta being a couple and one night at a party Delly kisses Peeta and Katniss decides to return home by herself walking on the street and someone kidnapps her for years, she has a miscarriage from her rapist but she manages to escape. The rest of the fic is of her coping from the trauma and Peeta helping her. — aloe--verga

544. hungergamesfangirl02 said to everlarkficquestions:

Hii! Do yall know of a fic where Katniss is taken hostage into the Capitol. And either she had intimacy or is pregnant with Peeta. And she gets hijacked to think Peeta is bad and that he raped her. And then Peeta is the Mockingjay. And when Katniss is rescued, and she talks to herself. And when she can tell what happened to her, Gale beats up Peeta.

545. justanotherrandomaccount9999 said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! Do you know any fics where Katniss saw Peeta with another girl after the 74th Games but before the Quarter Quell? Thanks.

546. 19fundiesandcounting said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi, I’m looking for a fix where everyone in district twelve, the victors and everlark were escaping a peace keeper attack through tunnels that led to district 13 but Finnick and katniss got captured. Also I believe that Cato and glimmer were torturing them. Thanks

547. myhopesareanchoredinyou said to everlarkficquestions:

hey! i’m looking for a fic (i thiiink it was on fan fiction. com or whatever) where gale gets reaped instead of katniss and peeta and katniss and peeta and gale are friends and gale thinks katniss is in love with her and katniss and peeta have sex in the meadow and katniss gets pregnant and they have to get married? they get married and katniss wears her moms dress?

A Mistake – VMA1998

548. redhoodhungergames said to everlarkficquestions:

Hey! I don’t know too much about the fic but I’ll just list what I remember •Peeta and Katniss have sex in a kitchen, and in order to not make noise she bites onto his neck•peeta and gale are Gaurding some place and gale either sees the mark or peeta mentions it and he’s like “damn, she bit you?” (Gale doesn’t like Katniss here.)That’s...about all I remember, they weren’t sent into the games here if I recall correctly but I believe they exist Anyway I hope this is enough!

549. bethpeaches123 said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi, first of all, thank you so much for the work you do with this, it is so appreciated and impressive how much knowledge you have! The fic I’m looking for is when Katniss and Peeta have won the Games and (I think) are forced to get married, and they get envelopes and have to go to The Capitol and have sex while paying customers watch? And at one point, they’re performing for a couple of men and one of them tries to join them I think? I’ve been doing some digging around but can’t for the life of me find it. TIA!!

550. craftydiva0828 said to everlarkficquestions:

Thanks in advance and maybe I'm losing it but... Is there a fic where Katniss is pregnant during the Quell and they call the baby "Banana nut bread". I think they also communicate in sign language or silently.

FOUND! Catching Fire: Rekindling- Jamie Sommers (Thank you, @blackberrysweater and @superchocovian!)

Do any of these fics ring a bell? Please let us know!

#~#ssd #sunday stumped day

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kaileeandag · 2 years

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Mariana’s Books!

Historical: -Meet Mariana (Meet book) -Mariana’s Before 5th Grade Birthday (School/Birthday book) -Mariana’s Magyar Christmas (Holiday book) -Mariana’s Search (Spring book) -Mariana’s Hungarian Summer (Summer book) -Changes For Mariana (Changes book)

BeForever: -(Grand)daughter of Revolutionaries: A Mariana Classic 1 (book one) -Magyar Summer: A Mariana Classic 2 (book two)

Current: -Mariana: Magyar American (book one) -Mariana’s Big Search (book two)

Book Summaries: -Meet Mariana: Mariana Fazekas is used to attending Willard School, but she still hates waking up at 6AM! She also worries that compared to her grandparents, who were part of the Hungarian Revolution, she’s boring. What can she talk about on the first day? -Mariana’s Before 5th Grade Birthday: Mariana celebrates her 10th birthday a few days before she starts 5th grade. She gets some Barbies, some new clothes, and even some new Pokemon cards! All she wants, though, is the new game in the Mario series, Super Mario Sunshine. There’s one last gift at the end of the day and it’s from Mariana’s dad... -Mariana’s Magyar Christmas: Mariana left one of her snow boots on the windowsill to see if Mikulás (Saint Nicholas) will give her any treats. When she wakes up in the morning, she sees her boot full of goodies such as a Hershey bar with a Spongebob wrapper, a Wonka Bar, and gummy bears. When her teacher Mrs. Weston holds the class Christmas party, Mariana wants to bring in her favorite Hungarian Christmas sweet: Szaloncukor.. She worries about whether or not people will think it’s bizarre, but her grandpa Endre has a small Christmas tree lying around for such an occassion. -Mariana’s Search: Mariana’s grandpa Endre hasn’t seen a friend named Zsuzsanna Dobos since the Hungarian Revolution. She decides to play detective and see if anyone with that name is still in Hungary. Where will her search lead her? -Mariana’s Hungarian Summer: it’s summertime and Mariana’s headed to Budapest with her parents and paternal grandparents. Little does Endre know, his granddaughter found Zsuzsanna and she agreed to pick them up from the airport. Wonder if her grandpa will recognize his friend after so long? -Changes For Mariana: Mariana’s new teacher is a lady named Ms. Wagenfeld. She worries that she won’t be nice like Mrs. Weston, but she’s quite surprised to find out that she’s very nice. Something bad happens on the day of the Christmas party that makes Mariana question a fair bit of things.

#american girl #american girl doll #american girl dolls #american girl oc #american girl fan character

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

Text

One In A Million - Chpt.2

Summary: Rose navigates her first few hours in 1941 and makes an unexpected discovery in an alley way.

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! We’re back in 1941 now and the plot set up is rolling! I did a lot of research on the 1940′s when I was writing this fic because I wanted it to be as authentic as possible. So I hope that comes through as the fic progresses. Also, can anyone guess who Rose stumbles across in an alley? Hehe... I just can’t image who... XOXO - Ash

Chapter Two

Your eyes struggle to adjust in darkness after the blinding light and you hope for a minute that you didn’t blow the electricity in the lab. The faint smell of dampness and dust gives you hope though. You take a tentative step forward and collide with a piece of furniture, a desk you realize as you run your hands along it. You fumble around finding a lamp and switching it on, thankful for the gentle illumination. The basement is filled with shelves of boxes and two desks. The manila envelope on the desk bears the SSR logo and you realize you’ve actually done it. You check the watch in your pocket and mark down the time on your notepad, subtracting ten seconds for your fumbling around. The devices to set up are barely visible tacks which you quickly place in spots not easily seen. Now you just need the date and to find Agent Wilson.

The first floor of the SSR office is buzzing with people. It’s four thirty and everyone is scrambling to finish their work before the office closes at five. The late day sun shines through the large glass windows that line the far side of the room and you feel like you’ve stepped onto a movie set. The room around you feels surreal, even as it dawns on you that you’ve done it. You actually time traveled.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” a young man in a pale blue suit asks you.

“Yes, have you seen Agent Wilson around?” you ask, hoping your search for him doesn’t take too long. You have a few bills in your pocket just in case you don’t find him right away but not enough to get by for more than a week on.

The man nods and points back to a closed wooden office door, “He just got back this morning, should still be in his office.”

You thank the man and weave your way through the room to the office. Knocking twice firmly, you wait until a gruff voice calls out, “Come in.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and open the door.

Agent Wilson is a tall older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a lithe build accentuated by his neatly tailored suit. He’s hunched behind his desk, squinting at a file and only looks up once you’re right in front of his desk. “How can I help you, Ms….?”

You extend your hand politely but shake your head, “I was told to give you this.” you tell him and hand over the card.

Wilson appraises you for a moment with a quirked brow, “I haven’t had any Sparrows show up here in quite some time.”

You nod but don’t give him any further information.

“We’ll get you set up then. I’m assuming you need a permanent placement?”

You nod again, “Yes, please.”

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you.” you call after him. The heavy door swings shut and you’re left sitting in the quiet office.

True to his word, Wilson returns less than five minutes later with a file in hand. It had been just enough time for you to locate his day calendar and write down the date, November 6th, 1941. You’ll have to make a few adjustments to narrow down the window of time for jumps when you get back. You’re about eighteen months off of the intended target date. “You’re all set Miss Miller.”

You look down to the file and see your new name for the first time. “Please, Agent Wilson, call me Rose.”

Wilson chuckles and returns your cheeky smile. “Your apartment is four blocks from here. You’ll have all weekend to settle in and then you’re due in at 8am on Monday for work. I trust you have some skills that we can utilize here at SSR?”

“I’m great with data entry.” you offer, knowing a lifetime of using computers will put you at a distinct advantage.

“Excellent. Talk to Marge when you get in and we’ll find something for you.”

“Thank you.” you say earnestly, so grateful that the plans you laid in place are going smoothly.

“Of course, Rose.” He gives you a kind, sympathetic smile, “We’ll see you Monday.”

You nod and bid him goodbye, leaving the SSR office and heading out into the brisk November air. The streets are busy with people heading home for the weekend and you find it easy to lose yourself in the crowd. The accents around you sound thicker, more authentically Brooklyn if that’s possible, and the clothes people are wearing in varying pastels and neutrals are fascinating in how different they are from what you expected. You’ll have to go shopping over the weekend and get a few things. First things first though, you need a winter coat and to find your bank to withdraw some money.

You trade a dime for a cup of hot coffee and a Hershey’s bar from a news stand and realize the twenty dollars in your pocket will go a bit further than you had expected. You’re strolling down a block of shops looking in the windows trying to find one that sells coats when you hear a scuffle coming from an alleyway. You hurry over to see a broad shouldered man looming over what looks like a boy, pummeling him and tearing at the worn leather bag he’s clinging to. You know you should keep moving, it’s not a lady’s place in this time and you don’t want to risk causing a scene or getting yourself seriously injured. But you never did follow rules very well. “Hey!” you yell down the alley as you stalk towards the man with more confidence than you feel. “Knock it off you asshole!”

The man whips around, fury plain on his face, “You got quite a mouth on you, girlie.”

“Yeah and I got quite a fist too. You wanna stop beating up kids and try your luck with a woman instead?” you glare, challenging him.

“How about I teach you some manners instead?” The man comes towards you with a slow predatory gait and you breathe through the fear rising up in your throat, remembering your self defense training. The man’s hand reaches out to grab your hair and you use your speed and momentum to twist his hand back sharply and force him down to his knees, howling in pain.

“What the fuck lady?” the man screams, clutching his wrist. He stares at you for a moment before hurrying out of the alley, still holding his injured hand close.

“You okay?” you ask, turning around to check on the boy who was being attacked. He pushes his flop of golden blonde hair back from his face and you realize he’s not a boy at all. “Oh shit.” you murmur.

“I had him on the ropes.” Steve Rogers tells you as he pulls himself up from the dirty asphalt.

“Well, I apologize for intervening then. I’ll just leave you be.”

He’s bleeding and unsteady on his feet and you want to help him but you can’t risk altering timelines. Of all the alleys in Brooklyn, you had to stumble across Steve freaking Rogers himself. You curse yourself mentally as you go to leave, stopping only when you hear Steve call out “Wait!”

You turn back, unable to refuse the plea in his deep, smooth voice.

“I should be the one apologizing, not you. I appreciate you stopping. No one else ever does.” he tells you while wiping the blood off his hand onto his threadbare jacket. He extends the cleaned hand towards you, “Steve Rogers.”

“Rose Miller.” you tell him and shake his hand briefly.

“Thank you, Rose. That was quite the trick you pulled on Jimmy.”

“Oh it was nothing, really. I should be going.” you force yourself to turn away from those piercing blue eyes and head towards the opening of the alley. You’re less than a dozen steps away from freedom when a dark haired man comes barreling into the alley almost knocking you over. He looks terrified and runs over to Steve, assessing his cuts and bruises while tutting like a mother hen. “Jesus, Stevie. I saw Jimmy going past and I thought he’d finally done you in. He was furious.”

“I’m fine, Buck.” Steve says pushing him off, “There was an angel nearby who intervened.”

Bucky looks over at you, studying you for the first time and you’re frozen in place. You should be running away as fast as your legs can carry you, going back to following through on your mission and not making any more waves in the past than you already have. But Bucky gives you the most charming smile you’ve ever been on the receiving end of and you know you’re a goner.

“I didn’t know we had any angels left in Brooklyn.” he says smoothly, taking a few steps forward to shake your hand. “James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” he winks at the last bit and you are pretty sure your ovaries have exploded. You had seen footage of the illustrious super soldiers before but nothing could ever compare to being on the receiving end of Bucky Barnes’ flirtations.

“Rose Miller” you tell him, shaking his hand firmly. The new name flows with ease the more you use it and you find you actually like it.

“Thanks for saving my buddy here. He forgets he’s all bark and no bite sometimes.”

Steve huffs and shoves at Bucky, “I’ll bite you, jerk.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m real afraid.” Bucky shoves him back but then tucks him under his arm affectionately. They share a long look and you wonder for a second if there really was any truth to the speculation that the pair were more than just best friends. “So what can I do to thank you for saving my friend?” Bucky asks you.

You shake your head, you need to stop this before it gets out of hand. “Nothing, really. I’ll just be on my way.” your shiver despite yourself and both men pick up on it immediately.

“Well least I can do is lend you a warm coat.” Bucky shucks off his dark wool coat and drapes it over your shoulders. It smells like man and sea, an oddly exhilarating mix. “Now, what do you say to dinner? Our place is only a block over and I’m sure Stevie has something delicious planned.”

“I put ham, potatoes, and green beans on the stove this morning to simmer. It should be done about now.” Steve tells you quietly.

“What do you say, doll? That’s one of Steve’s specialties; best dinner in the city by a mile.”

They both look so hopeful it tugs on your heart strings. You are a modern, twenty first century woman, you remind yourself. You have a masters degree and are halfway to a doctorate. You don’t fawn over men like a teenage girl. You have more self restraint than this. “Sounds great.” you find yourself saying.

Both men break into blindingly bright smiles and Bucky throws his free arm around your shoulders, leading you down the street with them. So much for self restraint.

Bucky and Steve’s home is a quaint two bedroom apartment over top of a garage. It’s chilly but Bucky is quick to throw on the heat once you’re inside. “Make yourself at home.” he tells you and Steve retreats quietly to the kitchen to check on dinner. Bucky reemerges a few minutes later having changed out of his worn work clothes into a simple button up shirt and slacks. His hair is shiny and slicked back and you’re once again stunned by how much more attractive he is in person. You set down the sketch you were looking at, a little embarrassed to have been caught looking around. “This is beautiful.” you say, motioning to the rough outline of a city skyline.

Bucky crosses the room to see what you were looking at, “Oh yeah, Stevie did this one last week. He’s talented, that’s for sure.”

“Talking about me?” Steve asks, poking his head out of the kitchen.

“Rose here was just admiring one of your drawings. I was telling her how you’re gonna be a famous artist pretty soon and we’ll be living all the way uptown and going to fancy parties at the MET.”

Steve rolls his eyes and retreats back into the kitchen.

“He really is brilliant.” Bucky insists, “He just needs to catch a break instead of a cold for once.”

“You’re a good friend.” you say with a warm smile. It’s hard not to get swept up in his charm.

Steve pokes his head out again announcing it’s time for dinner and Bucky leads you to their table which is sitting at the far end of the kitchen with two chairs and a stack of crates around it. “We don’t have company much.” Steve explains motioning at the stack of crates.

“It’s okay.” you assure him, “Dinner smells wonderful.”

“You two take a chair. I’m fine on the crates and I can serve.” Bucky busies himself dishing out the food and setting tall thin glasses of water by each place.

You settle into your seat facing Steve across the table and take a moment to really study him. He’s all angles and pale skin with bright blue eyes shining out from beneath his mop of blonde hair. You knew he was short before the serum and had seen the pictures, but seeing him up close he isn’t quite as frail as they made him out to be. Sure, he looks like a strong wind could knock him over, but there is a quiet strength beneath his exterior. It’s no wonder that Erskine chose him for Project Rebirth.

“Rose?” Steve prompts, breaking you from your thoughts.

You realize you’ve been caught staring, Steve is looking at you curiously while Bucky just smirks from his makeshift seat.

“Sorry, don’t know where my mind went for a minute.” you demure.

Bucky huffs a suppressed chuckle and moves on, asking Steve how his day was.

You learn Steve has been looking for work as an illustrator at various papers and magazines around the city. He works a few days a week at the neighborhood grocery store stocking shelves but they just don’t have enough hours for him anymore. He’d been out for a month with the flu last spring and the owner had hired more help to cover while he was sick. They let him come back but with half the hours he had before. Bucky caught a lucky break down at the docks around that time and picked up extra shifts, eventually earning himself a promotion over the summer. He wants Steve to pursue his art more and is willing to work 24/7 to make that happen if need be. His fierce devotion to Steve pursuing his dream is sweet but he brushes it off as nothing when you call him on. You give the guys vague details about your life when they ask. You try to stick to as much truth as you can but it’s difficult. You share that your parents died shortly after your eighteenth birthday and that you’re new to the city. You tell them you have a new apartment nearby and that you are starting a job on Monday at the SSR as a typist.

The night wears on and you move from the dining room to the living room so you can listen to the radio with Steve. Bucky insists on cleaning up after dinner since Steve had cooked, brushing off his kindness as “only fair” when you compliment him. It’s blissfully easy spending time with the guys. They are obviously close but make an effort to make you feel included in whatever they’re talking about. There are also little signs that you would have missed if you hadn’t been studying them so intently. A shared knowing smile, the “accidental” brush of a hand, the way they orbit around each other closer than most people would be comfortable with. When you wander down the hall looking for the bathroom you notice only one of the bedrooms looks lived in and it doesn’t surprise you in the least. Oh, what the historians would say if they knew.

You’re headed back down the hall when you hear fierce whispering. You pause a few feet from the end of the hall, wanting to give them their privacy. The apartment is small though and you can hear everything.

“Ask her out, Stevie.” Bucky demands in a hushed voice.

“She’s more your speed, Buck. She’s stunning.” Steve whispers back.

“And she’s been makin’ eyes at you all night.”

“Come on, you know I don’t need anybody but you.”

“I know but one day you’re gonna have to settle down with somebody. Somebody you can take out to a movie without getting arrested. Do the whole wife, kids, and a desk job thing. You deserve a good life, Stevie.”

“I have a good life now. And what about you, huh? What happens when I go off and settle down?”

“Then I’ll settle down too. Probably with one of your wife’s friends. We’ll still spend all the holidays together, get houses next door, vacation with each other every summer at the beach, our kids will grow up together.” Bucky says this with all the confidence he can muster. In reality, he thinks, Steve will go settle down with some wonderful woman and pop out a brood of perfect little blonde babies to whom he will be Uncle Bucky; eternally single and hanging around on holidays because he’s got nowhere else to go. Steve Rogers is it for him, he’s known that since he was fourteen and he doubts anything will ever change it.

“You paint a nice picture, Buck. You left out a few things though.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“How I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night without the sound of you snoring away next to me. How it would never really feel like Christmas without getting to watch you unwrap presents in your stupid ratty robe. How vacations would be unbearable having to do all the cheesy romantic tourist things with someone that isn’t you.”

Bucky swallows past the lump in his throat. “You always were a maudlin little punk.”

Steve knows he’s won and gives Bucky’s hand a quick squeeze. It’s an old argument but it doesn’t stop them from rehashing it from time to time. They both just want what’s best for each other.

You take that moment to rejoin them in the living room, making sure your clicking heels on the hardwood announces your arrival. The tips of Steve’s ears are tinged pink and both his and Bucky’s hands are stuffed into their pockets. They had jolted apart quickly when they heard you coming.

“Well boys,” you tell them, “You sure know how to show a girl a good time but I’ve got to get going.”

“We appreciate you joining us. Maybe you can stop by another time if you’re free?” Steve asks.

You know it’s a bad idea but your mouth is saying yes before your brain catches up.

Steve smiles broadly at your agreement, “Great. I know you’re close but it’s late. Let Bucky walk you home, okay?”

Bucky nods, on board with the suggestion. “I can get my coat back once you’re home then. You don’t want my work coat stinkin’ up your nice apartment.”

“Alright, thank you Bucky.” you agree, knowing it’s only proper in this time period.

Bucky collects his coat and wraps it around your shoulders with practiced ease.

Steve takes your hand for a moment before thinking better of it and dropping it. “Thank you.” he says softly, “For stopping today.”

“I’m glad I could help.” you shoot him a small smile.

Bucky motions to the door and you follow him out into the early November chill.

You give Bucky your address and he leads the way. You’re thankful to not have to pretend to be familiar with the area. You’re only one block down and one block over from their place but the cold night air has you shivering even under Bucky’s coat. You mentally add a hat, gloves, and a scarf to the list of things you’ll need. “Thank you for walking me home.” you say from your apartment stoop.

“Any time, doll. I’m real glad you helped Steve out today.” he drawls.

“Of course. I couldn’t just walk past and do nothing.”

“Most people do. You share that with him though.”

“Share what?” you asked, confused.

“Not being able to stay out of it when you see something wrong going on.” he explains.

You smile at him, blushing a little despite yourself. “Guilty as charged.” you admit.

“Come over and see us again sometime, okay doll? I know Stevie would appreciate the company. He’s a great guy and I think you two would really get along.”

It’s blatant what he’s trying to do and your heart melts a little at the devotion he has for his friend, even at his own expense. “I’ll come over again soon.” you assure him.

You shrug off Bucky’s jacket, handing it back to him, and he bids you a goodnight as you close the apartment door behind you. Resting on the inside of the door for a moment you can’t decide if you want your words to him to be the truth or a lie. One thing is certain though; whether or not you go see them again you’re never going to forget those sweet Brooklyn boys.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #reader insert #captain america #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #stucky #stucky x reader #fanfiction #stucky fanfic #captain america fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #time travel #1940s setting #named reader

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