#i will crush ya ribs

[shotmrmiller]

tw: simon's mean and a sexist.

Simon who doesn't like you. He respects Laswell, who's intel is vital to their missions. Price as the leader of the Task Force. Gaz because he's proved his mettle time and time again, and Soap whose stubborn self has burrowed under Simon's thick, knotted flesh.

Not you, though.

You've yet to do anything substantial.

As a sniper, your job is to aim and kill; provide overwatch. Why Johnny insists on giving you praise for doing what is required of you is beyond him.

You aren't taken to below-zero temperatures as emotional support. Why you're taken at all is also another mystery.

Without your gun, you're utterly useless. And Simon proves it, time and time again during training spars at base.

He comes at you as if you're the enemy, with dangerous precision and quick movements. Simon gets enjoyment out of seeing your eyes widen when he moves, like an injured gazelle who's just spotted a ravenous lion.

His grip is bruising— the force that he slams you to the ground with devastating.

Simon can hear the air punched out of your lungs once your back hits the mat, and the time it takes for your vision to sharpen, he's already pinning you down viciously with a knee to the sternum.

Useless. Women don't belong in combat. He's seen that big brute from KorTac. He'd crush your pathetic little head under his palm, he'd kick your ribs hard enough to crack and the splintered ends pierce your lungs.

He'd kill you without a hint of effort.

And Simon intends to remind you that there is no place for weak, bitty things like you in the front lines. Unless you're to be used as a distraction by flashing your tits at the bad guys.

Out of place.

Every time you go up against him, he uses his size and strength against you, just like every other person will. He launches you across the floor with a single arm, only to watch you struggle to get up and continue this sham of a fight.

Confidence born of ignorance.

As if sheer will would ever beat physical prowess.

If your feet won't touch the ground, then the rest of your body will. Through spilled blood and bruised flesh, may you learn.

He whistles at Johnny, gesturing at him to take his place, only for the end result to be the same, albeit much more gently.

Simon watches you through half-lidded eyes as he leans up against the wall. You fight against inevitability.

Pathetic.

And then one day, you come at him with a snarl on your lips. Blunt teeth that have never had to sink into someone's neck and rip a throat out, out of utter desperation. An unblemished face that's never felt the sting of a sharp blade as it's sliced open contorted into 'rage.' Frothing at the mouth like a lap dog with rabies, barking out words that are as empty as your future.

A forceful wave of his hand abruptly halts you mid-sentence, causing you to involuntarily flinch in response. Good.

"If ya have a complaint, take it to Price. I am not obligated to humor your stupidity."

He spins on the balls of his feet, leaving you to sputter indignantly.

Then on a mission, you get shot. Simon grabs the handgun that's holstered on his chest, and places it in your bloodied hands. "Keep them off of us, or we're both dead!"

His fingers are curled around the thick strap of your tac vest as he drags you toward the LZ; his pace never faltering even while getting clipped by stray bullets. But you?

He'd think you got your legs cut off. Wailing like a cat in heat over a wound above your hip. A clean in and out, nothing vital hit.

Simon has seen Gaz fall out of a helicopter, dangle from a rope, and still use his gun. He's seen Johnny cross a town full of Graves' Shadows bleeding from his shoulder, armed with nothing but the makeshift weapons he crafted on the way to the church. Price inhaled toxic gas and made it out just fine. Even Laswell was taken hostage and didn't crack under the pressure, going as far as killing her captor with her bare hands.

And you're decomposing in front of his very eyes over a superficial wound.

Landing at base, he walks out without a glance back and heads straight for Price's office. He didn't join the 141 to babysit anyone, least of all someone who belongs in either intelligence or a kitchen.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley

[danikamariewrites]

Just This Once...Right?

Rhyssian x reader

A/n: Happy @polyacotarweek day 5! I love seeing everyone's favorite tropes. My favorite trope is one bed and having the mating bond snap for one person and not the others then when it's revealed evryone is happy. I'm not sure what we call that one but enjoy :)

Warnings: some angst

“The High Lord does apologize for not being here to greet you this evening,” Helion’s assistant, Lana, said as apologetically as she could. The female had no time for bullshit which included small talk and you admired her for that. 

As she led you through the guest wing you looked around at the gold decor. The suns adorning the cream marble on the walls with paintings of Helion’s choosing. You wish you could talk to your friend right now. In desperate need of his advice. Lana’s commanding tone brought you back to the current conversation. “Unfortunately in the suite we have you in is one bedroom. The palace is under renovations, as you noted Rhysand.” She said dryly.

Your High Lord playfully rolled his eyes at her. “Were my comments not of the complimentary variety?” Lana let out a disapproving hum. As she opened the door to the guest wing you were greeted with a brightly decorated room. Soft yellows and cream, fluffy furniture accentuated by the golden sunlight coming through the floor to ceiling windows. Flowers that only thrived in Day Court soil in porcelin vases atop tables. 

As you explored the room you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation until another fae from Helion’s court came to get Lana. “One last thing before I leave you,” Lana noted absentmindedly as she looked over some documents, “There’s only one bedroom currently so I will leave you three to figure that out.” 

Before any of you could say anything Lana was closing the door behind her. You did your best to keep your heart rate down so Rhys and Cassian wouldn’t hear it. Throwing a glamour around you so they wouldn’t scent your fear and anxiety. “I’m going to go unpack,” you get out quickly, locking yourself in the bedroom. Your bags were stacked at the end of the bed. The single bed you noted. 

Fantastic. 

One bed and three of you. 

It’s not like you didn’t want to share a bed with Rhys and Cass. That’s all you wanted, to be near them. To be held by them. As you unpacked you thought back to last week and why you’ve been avoiding the males out in the parlor. 

You and Rhysand were walking around Velaris after a nice lunch. The sun shining and a nice breeze was coming off the Sidra. As you looked up at him you couldn’t help but let your love for him cloud your mind. He’s so perfect. You need to get over yourself and confess your crush on Rhys. The two of you have been toeing the line of friends and something more for years now. 

The High Lord looked down at you, those sapphire eyes sparkling in the sun make your breath catch in your throat. You saw his mouth move but didn’t register what he was saying. Something inside you was singing. Glowing. 

A string wrapping snugly around one of your ribs anchored to Rhys. The bond. Something you’ve waited for all your life had finally happened. Rhys leaned dow to peck your cheek as he whispered, “I’ll see you later for dinner.” He smiled, walking off to meet with the governors. Frozen in place all you could do was wave at him. Your mind racing. 

Squealing excitedly, you race back to the Town House. Tearing through the kitchen you gathered ingreidentes to make Rhys’s favorite cake red velvet cake. 

You were so focused on getting everything together you didn’t hear Cassian come in. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest swaying you back and forth. A small yelp leaves your lips, causing Cassian to giggle. “Hey sweets, whatch ya makin’?” Turning to face Cass you give him a dazzling smile. “Can you keep a secret?” Cassian returns your bright smile with a nod. Using one large hand Cass squeezes your cheeks, “Tell me sweets, what’s goin on?” 

The words and excitement died on your tonuge. That glowing feeling you had just felt with Rhys you were now feeling with Cassian. Another golden thread anchored to another male. How could this be? 

The blood rushed from your face. How are you going to tell them? This bond would tear them apart. You would love nothing more than to not have to choose between the two males. Would they make you choose? No, you won’t put them in that position. 

“Sweetheart?” Cassian prods. “Uh, nothing. Just thought I’d make dessert for tonight.” You said flatly. Without a second glance you turn back to your ingredients, moving slower than you had before. Cassian didn't pry further after sensing your mood. After dinner you had went straight to bed not wanting to hang around with this massive weight on your chest.

Now, a week later, you had completly forgotten about the trip to the Day Court that you couldn't back out of. As an emissary and Rhys's third you just had to suck it up. It was only a few days. You could be normal about this.

A soft knock sounds over your aggressive slam of the dresser drawer. Cassian poked his head in as you pulled your black silk nightgown on. "Hey sweetheart, can we come in?" You hum in answer as you stride over to the bed.

You curl up against the headboard facing the males. Rhys sits in front of you while Cassian makes himself comfortable next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You tense under his touch but Cass doesn't let up. Keeping you as close as you'll let him.

"We're concered, darling. You've been distant with us." Rhys reached out his hand to gently rub your leg. "We just want to fix what we did wrong, y/n. Please talk to us." Cassian rests his head atop yours.

Closing your eyes you felt a lump forming in your throat. If you opened your mouth nothing would come out but sobbing. "Would it be easier if you let me in, darling?" Sniffling, you nod and curl into Cassian's side as a few tears fall.

Feeling Rhys gently caress your mental shields you let him in, asking him to share the memories with Cassian. As they went through your memories they were hit with all your emotions. Happiness, joy, confusion, and sadness. At the end they both gathered you in their arms.

You started crying harder. Gripping them as if they would slip away. After a few minutes Rhys holds your face in his hands, brushing away your tears. "Look at me darling," he whispers, "We would never make you pick between us. The fact that the bond connects the three of us is so rare, it's amazing. There is no one I'd rather be connectde with in this world than you and Cass."

Registering his words your tears stop. "Really? You-you both want to be with me?" Cassian chuckled, kissing the top of your head. "Of course we do, sweetheart." You smile looking between them.

"I love you both, so much." "We love you too, darling." Rhys presses a kiss to your forehead. "Now lets get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"And a long night," Cassian teases, wiggling his brows at you. You chuckle at him lightly slapping his strong chest. Your mates move to leave you alone for the night. You fling out your hand to grasp their wrists. The bond urging you to keep them close. They must've felt your unintentional pull because they immediately came back to your sides.

"Will you...can you guys stay with me? I don't want to be without you anymore." Cassian didn't need to be asked twice. Stripping down to his undershorts and getting under the covers, pulling you to his chest. Rhys followed quickly, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before you drifted off.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand acotar #rhysand fanfic #cassian acotar #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian fanfic #rhyssian #poly!rhyssian #poly!rhyssian x you #poly!rhyssian x reader #poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek d5

[thief-of-eggs]

Headcanon that Kon finally works up the nerve to confess his love to Tim- except he messes up and confesses on April Fools day, so after a long pause where Tim’s heart nearly leaves his chest, he just laughs and says “good one”

And while Kon is momentarily confused (and a little crushed), he quickly is reminded of the date by a less than favorable prank pulled by Bart- and instead of explaining things to Tim, he decides to roll with it

It becomes an inside joke between them both. Kon starts saying “love ya” before every mission- and he means it. But Tim just takes it as a joke, and he pretends it doesn’t make his cheeks flush, pretends it doesn’t make his heart race.

The longer it goes on without Tim confessing back, the bolder Kon grows. He is pretty sure Tim likes him back, given he can hear how Tim’s heart races each time he flirts- but he’s still waiting for the proper confession. And what better way to draw it out than by getting flirtier and flirtier?

“Have a good meeting, baby, I hope they don’t keep you from me for too long”

“Hey there hot stuff, is that a batarang in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

“Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes look Tim? Because they really are. Brighter than the whole night sky alight with stars.”

Tim goes insane. He can’t show how much the phrases are affecting him, can’t let Kon know it isn’t a joke to him- so he flirts back. Because why on earth would he be normal and just talk about it?

He starts small, and works his way up to bolder statements. Speaking his heart, veiling the words as bits of their joke.

“Hey pretty boy, you gonna join us on this mission or is your head still in the clouds?”

“Calm down Kon, this is a sparring ring, not our bedroom”

“Can I get a kiss for luck babe? You know I always perform better when I’m around you.”

It’s like a game. Of wits, of wills. Everyone watches from a far with their eyebrows raised, watching the gayest friendship they’ve ever seen as the boys both flirt and flirt, a sort of game of chicken that neither seems to know the rules to.

It takes months for things to escalate so much till they’re essentially just dating. Tim doesn’t realize it until they’re sitting curled up on the couch together after a mission, his head on Kon’s shoulder, their legs intertwined under the blanket.

“We’re dating… aren’t we?”

Kon kisses the top of his head. “Took you a while, Mr detective.”

Tim’s face flushes as he rethinks every phrase Kon ever said to him, before winding back to that first fateful confession.

His heart skips a beat as the meaning dawns on him.

“You love me,” he says, less a question more a statement.

“I do,” Kon replies, fighting off a smile.

Tim’s heart races a mile a minute. He pushes away from Kon to look him in his eyes, his ribs feeling too small to contain his growing heart.

“I love you too,” he says, breathless with the confession.

“I know,” Kon answers, his eyes twinkling. Tim wants to punch him- but then Kon is kissing him, and Tim forgets every hostile feeling.

He pushes their combined idiocracy aside and grabs Kon by his shirt, and pulls the super into him.

#timkon #drabble #egg writes #tim drake #kon el kent #april fools #dc #kon el superboy

[devoureddreaa]

bros the type too.. saturo gojo boyfriend headcannons

y’all..this is my first ever post!! i’ve been thinking bout doing, but i kept pussying out. but, hope y’all enjoy!!! ^.^

— bro is the type to be big spoon most of the time, but whenever he is little spoon and lays on top of you..you can feel your ribs getting crushed.

gojo’s huge, in both height and weight and even you are close in one or both of those areas, he’s still a bit heavier

“turo, get up..you’re damn near crushing me.” you whined, trying to move your boyfriend over by his broad shoulders. but after a few tries you gave up and laid there in defeat.

gojo had asked to cuddle last night, and you both feel asleep like this. you had expected him to move over in his sleep, but you were sadly mistaken. he moved a bit, shoving his head further into the crook of your neck..getting more comfortable then he already was.

“five more minutes..” he muttered sluggishly.

and you rolled your eyes playfully and sighed, preparing yourself for another hour of laying here helplessly

but honestly..you didn’t mind, cause how could you say not to him?

— bros the type to go out and come back with a ton of sweets he got, and he’ll make you eat them. gojo’s gonna spoil you, one way or another!!!

“why’d you buy all of this..?” you looked down into the oddly huge plastic bag that was filled to the brim with different types of sweets. it was more concerning then confusing to you.

he said he was gonna go out to get what you two needed, and gojo comes back with sweets….

“for you, duh!” he smiled pridefully, “now eat ‘em.”

you opened her mouth to object, but remembered that you were gonna have to eat these sooner or later..so, you decided to eat them now. just like gojo wanted.

— bros the type to do stupid things just to hear you get all upset and lecture him about it.

is he attracted to it? maybe. that’s why he’ll purposely hide things in the most bullshit places just to hear you fuss about it.

“where’s the damn remote?!” you had been looking around the living room for the past five minutes for the remote so you could watch one of your favorite shows. a new episode was coming out today and you needed to see, but the thing wasn’t anywhere to be found..

you looked under the couch cushions, behind the pillows, under the couch, you even looked in places a remote shouldn’t even belong.

“lookin’ for something?” you turned around to see your boyfriend leaning up against the doorway with a snarky smirk laying across his face.

you sighed..realizing that he did it once again.

“where’d you put it?”

“ion know.” he shrugged and the shit eating grin on his face grew even bigger when he saw your eyebrows start to knit together. you didn’t know whether to give him the reaction he wanted or just stay calm and figure out another way to turn the tv on.

“saturo.”

“hm?”

alright..the cluelessness set you off. “just give me the damn remote, i need it!” you practically yelled out and pleaded, even with an irritated expression.

the man chuckled lowly, then digged into his pocket and pulled the remote you.

“here ya go.”

“be glad i love you.”

— and on top of that one, bros the type to do stupid childish shit. like say “boo” whenever he comes up behind you, or pull your hoodie over your eyes.

“saturo! get off!”

gojo had gotten behind you and pulled your hoodie over your eyes. you were playfully hitting his hands and arms, your hair sticking to your face and small laughs erupting from your mouth.

“i said you gotta guess who..”

you sighed in defeat, “it’s amazing saturo gojo..”

“that’s right!”

— bros the type to answer the phone so loudly, it’s either on purpose or he does it subconsciously..but either way, he’ll do it.

“hello?!”

you had to immediately revert your phone from your ear after hearing gojo practically scream into it. he does it so often, yet you aren’t used to it whatsoever ever.

“damn, my volume isn’t even all the way up..what are you screaming for.?!”

“oh.” gojo paused for a moment, you could feel the smirk that was growing on his face. “my bad!”

— bros the type to annoy you, but he loves you either way..aaaand you love him even more.

“love you the most.”

“fuck you, i love you more.”

wow, my writing is straight cheeks. bare with me y’all, baaaare with me. but yea, this is my first writing on tumblr..sooo, if you enjoyed and want something else i’ll gladly take recs!! :O (and if you saw any typos, no you didn’t)

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo smut #saturo smut

[boozenboze]

*distant shouting*

Can we get some more flexible COD male reader?!

I don’t see why not :)

Task Force 141+Los Vaqueros x Flexible!Male reader

Headcannons!🙂

Price

Practically had a heartattack during the crab walk fiasco

Likes to test your flexibility during training

Almost passed out when he walked in your room and saw you bending your back so your feet met your head

Refuses to try any moves he sees you do

Says that he’s to old to be moving the way do

He’s afraid he’ll pull a muscle or break a bone

Likes to rest how far you can spread your legs

Gives him more room while fucking you senseless

Ghost

Just stares a lot

Trying to figure out

Low key wants to know if you can fit in a suitcase

Watched you wrap yourself around the enemy and somehow crush their ribs

Likes that your able to fit into small spaces during missions.He thinks it’s beneficial

Low key hopes you get stuck in a tight spot in which only your lower half is the only thing exposed to him

You can use your imagination for what you think he does

Soap

“Can ya wrap yourself around me like a backpack?”

Has some stupid ideas that he’d like to put into action

Likes having you wrapped around him in the most awkward positions

Uses you as a scare tactic while on missions specifically during interrogations

“Ya see the position he’s in now?That how yer going to be in while

*insert you with limbs going in different directions*

Missionary all day with your legs spread as far as they could go

Gaz

Cracks jokes about you being a rag doll

“Oh look at the doll at work”

Impressed by how fluidly you can move your limbs

Is a firm believer that you don’t have a spine

“I don’t think M/n has a spine,you’ve seen the way he moves!”

“Gaz if I didn’t have a spine I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

Enjoys doing stretches with you

One specifically where he ends up on top of you

Alejandro

¿De qué otra manera puedes mover ese cuerpo guapo?

Is very impressed in your abilities he is!

It’s just scary sometimes

He ran into your room with a cross when he saw you doing some strange stretches

“Ahh Cariño I thought you were possessed”

Has made you chase Rudy across the the base more than once

Likes exploring different positions during sex especially with your known flexibility

Rodolfo

Lowkey scared of you

You saw how he reacted during the crabwalk fiasco

He’s gotten used to seeing you randomly doing backbends and crab walking around the place.

Very flustered when you pin him to the wall with your leg.

“Luciendo muy bien debajo de mí querido.~”You’d say seductively

*insert flustered Rudy noises*

#cod x male reader #gay #Male y/n #lgbtq #gaz x male reader #captain price x male reader #ghost x male reader #mw2 x male reader #alejandro x male reader #Rodolfo x Male reader #soap x male reader #aib x male reader

[chaoticbardlady99]

She's My Religion (Part 1: She's Cold, She's Dark, She's Cynical) Astarion x F! Reader

   Hello! I have been plagued with an idea! Enjoy! This will probably be a four part story, but I am not sure just yet!

Title from song “She’s My Religion” by Pale Waves

CW: Parental death, grief, murder, domestic violence, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of emotional abuse.

Synopsis- You are a paladin under the Oath of Vengeance. You escaped the noble life that was unwillingly thrust upon you. Now, on your way to kill your evil step-father while trying to find a solution for the parasite in your head- you find out he’s promised your hand in marriage to Lord Cazador Szarr and that he’s taken your mom’s life. Looking for some comfort- you go to Astarion, but you don’t hear the words you were hoping for.

*Gif does not belong to me- could not find original owner

Karlach whoops and cheers as she releases you from a rib crushing hug- Wyll and Gale are grinning from ear to ear. You are all elated for her that Dammon was able to figure out how to cool down her engine- even if temporarily.

  You know that she doesn’t want to hear about the future and the harm not going back to Avernus will cause so you don’t say anything while Wyll tries to lecture her. You are barely listening as the two of them go back and forth, but when Wyll glances back at you with a look that screams, “Can you please help me out over here?”

  You chuckle at your close friend’s distress and shake your head at him. Wyll adores Karlach- you know he would give her his own heart if he could. He just needs to let her come to her own decision- you’d like to think that Karlach might decide to go back until they can come up with a permanent solution. However, at the end of the day, it’s Karlach’s decision. You are just as unhappy with the impending doom your bubbly companion is facing, but that is not your weight to carry.

  “Unfortunately Wyll, I am going to support whatever Karlach wants to do for as long as I can emotionally tolerate it,” you give Karlach a playful punch in the arm, “you’re not allowed to die on me, ya know?”

  Karlach rolls her eyes and smiles- pulling you in for an awkward walking side hug.

 “Don’t worry Soldier- I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

    You all begin to head back to camp from Last Light Inn when Jaheira calls you from afar, waving you over. You look at your companions and they look back at you- equally as confused. You tell them that you will catch up with them in a little bit and they leave you there alone. Cautiously, you walk towards her- she did just threaten to kill you not even 72 hours ago and what an eventful 72 hours it has been. 

  You killed a devil, almost died killing that Devil, found out Astarion’s life is in far more danger than initially thought, watched Astarion convince a weird man to drink himself to death, watched an even weirder man be inhabited by a dead lady, fought shadows, and now, Karlach can hug people. 

  Life could not be any weirder, but you gladly welcome it over the mansion you had been trapped in after your mother married your step-father. The day you escaped from there had been bliss- despite how much you miss your mother. Your mother had been of noble human blood before she met your father (an elf). After one late night tryst and falling pregnant, her title had fallen significantly. She married your father and you had all lived happily together in Baldur’s Gate. You grew up poor, but Duke Ravenguard always tried to make sure you and your family had been taken care of. You grew up with Wyll Ravenguard and you have been tight knit friends almost your whole lives. 

  Until you were 14.

  Count Bridril Von, a high Sorcerer, had not forgotten your mother nor her breaking her promise to marry him by becoming pregnant by another. After your father died, he found your mother and enchanted her to become a mindless puppet. She would break occasionally, but ultimately you were left to fend for yourself against your 9 step-siblings (5 girls, 4 boys) and Bridril Von- who enjoyed taking out all his anger and hatred for your father on you. The only times he would claim you as one of his own would be when you had competed in various competitions and won- outranking his sons. The publicity he got from having a little sharp shooter and for “raising his darling step-daughter after she so horribly lost her hero father” was incredible. You became a show pony- a pretty, malleable little thing that was forced to perform and excel so that she could be treated with basic respect.

 The minute you were able to escape the Mansion from the Hells, you ran to the docks, bought a ticket to Silverymoon, took an Oath of Vengeance, and now you are here with an illithid parasite in your head. At first you had thought you were the unluckiest person in the world when you were kidnapped by a mind flayer, but your companions have quickly made the whole journey worthwhile- Astarion especially.

  You had met him before in your previous life as a troublemaking bastard and you had had conversations before- nothing too crazy nor serious, just quips and flirting back and forth. Astarion had been at the mansion frequently or you at the palace because your oldest step-sister, Daisy Von, is (was?) due to marry Lord Cazador Szarr. It was no secret to anyone, not even Daisy, that Cazador wants to marry you due to your likeness of a long lost love of his, but you are not of royal blood. Cazador would lose his alliance with Bridril if he married his boorish, rebellious, and unwanted step-daughter- despite your many achievements. You were grateful. You didn’t want to marry the man and Daisy was foolishly smitten- she could have him for all you care. That was your mentality before you knew he was a Master Vampire.

  Your family and Astarion’s ‘family’ spent a lot of time together. Astarion had become your escort around the palace grounds because Bridril did not want you to take the spotlight away from Daisy. 

 Originally, it had been Pale Petras, but you had unceremoniously kicked him in the balls after he had said something rather unbecoming towards you and had to be physically dragged away by Leon before he tried to kill you or worse. Astarion had immediately taken a liking to you for that alone. 

  When you had stumbled upon each other at the beach after the Nautiloid crash, it had been a little over two years since you had last seen each other. Without the watchful eyes of Cazador, your friendship and romantic relationship has blossomed. 

   You had been weary at first, worried that he was just getting close to you because he knew how much it would piss off Cazador if Astarion were to be with the one person Cazador could not have. Now, you are about 95 percent sure that isn’t the case, but you remain alert- just in case. 

  You are used to being used for an upperhand in the world and you hope everyday that you are more than an advantage against Cazador to him because he truly means everything to you. 

  Which is maybe why you are quite agitated with Jaheira taking precious minutes away from you that could be spent with your love. You offer her a smile as she holds out a letter.

 “A letter? For me? Oh Jaheira, you shouldn’t have!”

   Jaheira hides her amusement behind a scowl, “it came through here magically. Rolan was able to calm down the little portal it came flying through- I suggest waiting until you reach Baldur’s Gate to be sending and receiving mail.”

   You apologize and walk towards camp, opening and reading the contents in the letter. The letter rips open your entire body and it feels like the ground is going to cave in. You read and reread the letter multiple times- standing between the edge of Last Light Inn and the edge of Camp, not even 5 feet away. 

  Tav,

  My name is Mary, I was your mother’s lady in waiting. You were always so busy that we never got the opportunity to meet. I am sorry to tell you that I only have bad news.

 The Count had received an offer from Lord Cazador Szarr two weeks ago regarding marrying you that he is not going to refuse- initially he was, but then you continued to not come home and he became bitter. 

  Cazador expressed urgency regarding getting you back to Baldur’s Gate. Bridril has hired mercenaries to hunt for you.

  Bridril killed your mother- the whispers in the castle say it was not an easy or quick death. My understanding is that you took an Oath of Vengeance so I hope Bridril is on your list. Your mother was the kindest woman I have ever had the privilege of meeting.

   I know she would want you to know that she loves you, is proud of you, is watching out for you, and knows you are off to do great things. 

  Keep vigilant and may Selune bless your path.

  -Mary

     No. This isn't happening to you. You are only days- maybe even a week or two away from going back home, killing Bridril, and freeing your mother. You were going to be a family again. You wanted to introduce her to your companions and buy a nice little home to live in with her like you used to when you were little. You were going to tell her all about your adventures, your time on the Pirate ship that took you to Silverymoon, your life there as a Paladin, and his whole fucking excursion.

   She’s gone and the wail that threatens to crack open your chest is suffocating. You quickly walk to Astarion’s tent, where you have been sleeping most nights, and he’s not there. Of all the times you really need him to not be doing anything and yet! You shove the letter back in the envelope and absentmindedly throw it to another part of the tent- not looking and not caring. Your grief feels like it may kill you and you just need to be held- to know and feel like you aren’t completely alone in the world right now. 

    After a brief chat with Halsin, you discover Astarion is hanging out with Shadowheart behind her tent. You make haste that way- hoping they won’t be too mad that you are interrupting their wine and gossip time. You had gotten back earlier than anticipated and in other circumstances you might wait until he is done, but you aren’t in your right mind. 

  You approach the tent and hear them talking on the other side, facing the forest, and sitting on a log. The tears begin to manifest in your eyes as relief floods you- you are so close to feeling okay again.

  “How bloody hard is it to nicely, lovingly tell someone that you’ve been deceiving them this whole time?”

  You stop dead in your tracks. 

  No. 

  “Look, there is no good way to say it,” Shadowheart says, “you just need to own up to it and then be honest about all of it.” 

 “Oh yes because ‘I planned on seducing you, sleeping with you, and manipulating you from the start’ is such a great opener,” Astarion scoffs, “there has to be some other way to make it flow with the rest of it. A better way to tell her.”

  “No need,” you speak up miserably, coming around the corner, “you just did. Wasn’t that hard was it?”

  Astarion and Shadowheart look absolutely shell shocked to see you standing there. Astarion looks like he’s about to throw up as he gets up and looks at you softly, a pleading, panicked look in his eyes.

  “Darling!” he says, getting up, laughing nervously“you’re back early. I- can we-”

  “Whatever we are,” you say with a glare, tears now pouring and with as much hatred in your voice as you can muster, “or whatever you were pretending I was to you- it’s over.” 

  Astarion’s entire face falls while he’s staring at you and he looks like he might cry, he opens his mouth, “Darling, pl-”

   Shadowheart looks like she is about to speak up for him too, but you are far too angry, far too hurt- far too lonely right now in the world to let yourself be tricked into staying with him. They are best friends, she’s probably in on it too. 

 “No! I hate you so much!,” the venom in your voice being watered down by your anguish, “I hate you more than I thought I could ever hate anyone- undead, dead, or alive! I trusted you and you used me for your own gain- so unkindly, go fuck yourself!”

   You spin around on your heels, race over to your tent, and tie the flaps tightly shut. You slump to the ground and just sob- grabbing your mother’s old blanket that you had stolen before you left. You scream into it silently and all the pain in your body is threatening to make you burst apart at the seams. You wouldn’t be surprised if you did. 

  In less than an hour you have lost your mother, Astarion, and potentially your freedom. Astarion had used you to get one up on Cazador and he succeeded. Now that he knows what Cazador’s ritual is- he’s decided he’s done with you and every step you make has to be done cautiously because one slip up and you are going to be the consort to a fucking Master Vampire after fighting to avoid this for so long. All because Astarion just had to poke the bear. 

Astarion signed your fate using your blood as ink.

   Your throat is raw and your head is pounding by the time your lungs feel like they know how to properly breathe again. You hear someone knock on one of the wooden beams of your tent and you scoff.

  “It’s just me Tav,” Wyll says softly, “can I come in.”

     You get up and untie the tent flaps numbly. You look at Wyll, eyes puffy and red- your face streaked with tears. As Wyll walks into your tent, you get a glimpse of Astarion looking crestfallen as you invite Wyll in. You just scrunch your nose up in disgust at him before closing your tent. 

    Wyll is sitting down on your bedroll and you sit down right next to him- both of you looking at the ground. Wyll gently puts his hand on top of yours and smiles at you with his signature gentle, I’m here, grin.

 “My mom’s dead, Wyll.”

  “What?” 

 “Bridril killed her. She had snapped out of whatever hold he had on her when he agreed to marry me off to Cazador,” you choke out between sobs, “he killed her for trying to protect me. Now? I am officially going to be married off to a Master Vampire the minute I step foot in Baldur’s Gate if Bridril has his way.”

  “Oh Tav…”

 “And then! To make matters even worse?,” you look at him with disbelief and your voice sounds borderline hysterical now, “I overheard Astarion and Shadowheart prepping his ‘I’ve been using you this whole time and I’m ready to break-up’ speech. He was trying to figure out how to be nice about it.”

  Wyll stares at you with bewilderment. He is absolutely silent as you break down sobbing again, but he pulls you into him and you put your head on his shoulder.

  “I fe-feel so alone,” you manage to say coherently, “and so frightened.” 

  “I know you do my dear friend,” Wyll strokes your hair as make a mess of his shirt, “but you have Karlach, Gale, Lae’zel, Halsin, Scratch, and even an Owlbear Cub for Gods sake!”

  You smile at the emphasis on your rather dangerous furry friend. Wyll had asked what you were going to do with him when you got back to Baldur’s Gate and when you didn’t have a plan- both of you were a little horrified. You both decided to send it to Daisy as an engagement present once it’s big enough to stomp on Cazador and Daisy mid-wedding.

  “And besides,” Wyll says, “you’re my closest friend. I won’t allow you to be alone nor face this alone. I’m probably the best monster hunter you know.”

 “You are also the only monster hunter I know.”

  Wyll rolls his eyes and smiles brightly at you, “That’s besides the point, but I am going to let you sleep. You look like you need it.” 

   Wyll places a soft kiss on your forehead before he leaves your tent.

  “Thank you Wyll.”

    He turns around and smiles, “Any time Tav.”

_________________________________________________

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 spoilers #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion romance #bg3 #karlach #astarion x f! reader #astarion acunin #baldurs gate #bg3 tav

[jesterwriting]

empty inbox ya say? Don't mind if I show up!

So, I am a lover of the grumpy x sunshine kinda trope, but I want to hear your thoughts of crocodile having an caotic partner? Always having some kind of prank or stupid joke, just to see crocodile crack a smirk or something, but no matter how much they try, they always fail to so. So, after one day that the little sunshine tried so hard of trying they just pout around croc, and he just to try to cheer up his darling just a little, try to crack one of his own stupid joke just to see them laugh a little and go back into being his sunshine

(if you are not comfortable/don't find the prompt as entertaining, you can skip it tho, okay?)

pairing: crocodile x gn!reader

contents: established relationship, fluff, bad jokes, sunshine!reader, crocodile and his soft spot for you, he acts annoyed but hes entirely smitten i promise

word count: 1.1k words

note: OMG this was such a cute idea!! grumpy x sunshine is one of the best tropes ever, im such a sucker for it. im not particularly good at writing chaotic reader, though i definitely tried to make them quite silly. thank you so much for your request anon <33

playlist: dance the night by dua lipa

To an outsider, your relationship with Crocodile could, very easily, be one of the most confounding relationships one had ever seen. Of course, there had been more ill fitting partnerships out there, but you and Crocodile were close runners up. He was a large, intimidating man, with a harsh expression, and an even harsher tone. When he was displeased, his words alone were enough to rip apart an idiot’s flimsy confidence. Crocodile was a man of wealth and status. The only thing that ran deeper than the promise of violence, was the sand he was made of.

You, on the other hand, were the exact opposite. Bright and full of sunshine, you practically glowed against Crocodile’s side. With a smile so wide, it almost hurt to look at you. There was a softness to you that was absent in Crocodile. There had been more than one occasion where you were seen helping a wayward insect back outside, cupped gently against your palm, or offering directions to a lost couple who ran off in terror when your infamous husband approached. The crowd watched in horror when you scolded him with an elbow to the ribs. Crocodile did nothing but roll his eyes.

When you weren’t helping the lost, with your terrifying husband looming over your shoulder, you were a whirlwind of chaos. Prank after prank on unsuspecting visitors to the casino were done in your name. Nothing too egregious, you never aimed to harm, all you wanted was to make people laugh. A task you succeeded in, at least when you were alone. Crocodile’s unamused expression as he carted you away, laughing uproariously, did little for the mood.

It was only in the privacy of your shared abode did those pranks find a target in Crocodile. You respected your husband’s boundaries. Not once did you consider making a fool of him in public — not that it was your intention, you simply knew Crocodile well enough to know that was how he would take it — nor did you even consider any pranks that involved water. It was a damn shame. A bucket of water over the door was truly the prank of all time. Just imagining Crocodile, soaked to the bone, cigar wet and limp against his lips as he stared at you with such crushing annoyance, was enough to make you snicker out loud.

However funny it may be, your bits weren’t worth losing Crocodile’s trust. Such a thing was a rare gift from your husband, very few people alive had the honor to receive it. With a hint of pride, you considered the possibility that you were the only person alive to say that Crocodile felt safe enough to confide in them. Boy, if that didn’t make your heart absolutely swell.

Your only regret was, no matter how many jokes you played, you never got Crocodile to crack a smile. Even when you covered his desk with sticky notes — “Y/N, you realize you’re cleaning this up.” — or that stupid crank call you did a few weeks ago — “No, my refrigerator is not running, don’t call this number again.” — were not enough to get the barest huff of a laugh.

That was how you found yourself in Crocodile’s office, hanging upside down in the chair in front of his desk. It was normally reserved for when he had a private meeting, but today he was stuck doing paperwork. It was silent, save for the scribble of his pen against top secret documents you weren’t supposed to see, but would be able to look at with a single ‘please.’

“C’mon, you think I’m funny.”

Crocodile didn’t look up from his work as he responded, “I think you’re foolish.”

“Yeah, but I’m your fool.” Flipping around in your chair, you swung your legs over one arm and hung your head off the other. Boredom was not an uncommon foe during quiet afternoons with Crocodile. You needed near constant stimulation to keep yourself in check, and for all the reasons you loved him, Crocodile did, in fact, have a massive stick up his ass. “You’re a king and I’m your jingling little fool. Let me tell you a joke.”

Crocodile grumbled under his breath, but he didn’t tell you to stop. With a grin, you said, “Why did the egg hide?”

With a sigh, he dropped his pen to run a hand through his hair. “Why did the egg hide, Y/N?”

Patting a drumroll against your thighs, you paused for dramatic effect. Seconds passed in silence, save for your palms’ rhythmic song against your thighs, Crocodile’s eyebrows furrowing deeper and deeper the longer you continued. Finally, you blurted,

“It was a little chicken!”

Crickets. Your husband didn’t even spare you a response before his pen was in his hand again, signing who knew what. With a roll of your eyes, you flopped from the chair and onto the floor. The carpet was soft against your palms.

“Okay, that was bad, but you could have at least said something.”

“You’re going to have to say something funny to get a response out of me,” Crocodile rumbled, not even bothering to glance at you while you laid on the floor.

This sucked. You could make everyone laugh, all except for the one who mattered to you the most. A part of you wondered why you didn’t give up. You were sure you were being at least a little annoying — though the smaller voice in your head reminded you that Crocodile was one to request time alone when he was in a bad mood.

“Fine. No more jokes, spoilsport.”

No response. Fine then, at least the floor was comfortable.

For the next twenty minutes, you kept yourself busy by counting ceiling tiles, or by fighting the urge to reach under Crocodile’s desk and steal his shoes. No more pranks, remember, you told yourself. Not until you stopped feeling like a big ol’ pile of poo, at least.

“How do you make a plumber cry?” Crocodile’s voice surprised you after going so long without hearing it. (It’d been thirty minutes, maximum, though it felt like an eternity)

You wet your lips before you responded, already feeling a giggle bubbling in your chest. “How?”

“Kill his family.”

You burst out laughing. Curling your fingers against the edge of the desk, you popped your head into his view, positively beaming. While Crocodile was never one for grandiose displays of emotion, he graced you with one of his rare, honest smiles.

“That’s more like it, doll.”

#one piece x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x yn #sir crocodile x you #crocodile x yn #crocodile x you #.jesterwrites #if you look closely you can see the exact point i had to fight to not call yn crocodiles silly little jester

[dailydragon08]

headcanon post idea: everyone’s reactions when you tell them you’re proud of them (ex. after a tough mission or bc they’ve been having a hard time mentally/emotionally)

Although she’s used to the spotlight from being royalty and a revered leader in the rebellion, Leia isn’t very used to genuine praise. She’s usually the one praising someone else (or yelling at them, more likely) and the most she’s gotten in the last few years is a quick “good work” when she delivered the plans for the first Death Star before the Battle of Yavin. So when you first make her look you in the eye and genuinely tell her that you’re proud of her, she freezes for a minute. The last time she really heard that from someone who meant it was her parents, so it hits her a bit harder than she expected and she doesn’t completely know what to do with the feeling. She’s so used to being the rock for everyone else – and keeping her inner thoughts a secret was part of her job and how she stayed safe for a long time – that she takes a while to show any sort of big emotion in front of people, and even then will only do so in private. She gives you a small smile, nod, and quiet thanks before redirecting the attention to you, how much you helped, and says how she’s proud of you. But she will concede to an “I’m proud of us” before giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

Luke also hasn’t heard a genuine “I’m proud of you” in a long time (not that the OT gang isn’t proud of him, they just typically don’t say it in words), but he tends to be a bit more emotionally available than his sister on a more regular basis. He can’t keep the emotion off his face and for a second, you’re afraid you said the wrong thing as his big, blue eyes start getting glassy. It means the galaxy to him, especially from someone who knows everything that happened with Owen, Beru, his father, and the emperor, not to mention all the weight on his shoulders in regard to rebuilding the Jedi Order from scratch. He collects himself soon after, but still gives you a warm smile and “thank you” before wrapping you in a tight hug. He tells you he’s proud of you as well and there isn’t anyone else he’d rather have on his team, holding the hug for a bit longer than you expected (but you, of course, would never be the first to let go).

Han pretends to be affection-averse, even though he isn’t – but, hey, he’s got a reputation to maintain. He splutters for a minute before recovering and saying something along the lines of, “Yeah, I am aware how awesome I am, kid, and I’m glad you’ve finally realized it, too. Ya know, I’m gonna remind you that you acknowledged my greatness next time you get on me for somethin’ – in fact, here,” he holds his comm right in front of your mouth and hits record, “why don’t you say that again so I have some proof?” You bat the comm away and tell him how insufferable he is before you both go back to what you were doing before. But, when he thinks you’re not looking, you can see the dopiest smile across his face.

Lando takes it the most in stride. He looks surprised for a minute, before smiling, thanking you, and putting a hand on your shoulder and giving it an affection squeeze and light shake. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he says before remarking on how you two make a great team, even going so far as to list specifics of exactly why you work so well together. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walk back to base, a new spring in his step that you can’t deny is adorable.

Chewie (platonic) immediately says something in Shyriiwook that you think (hope?) sounds happy before enveloping you in a bear hug that almost crushes your ribs. You hang on for dear life, half laughing and half struggling to breathe, patting the Wookiee’s back before begging him to put you down before he accidentally crushes you. He mumbles something that almost sounds like the cadence of an apology in his language before setting you down and affectionately petting your head.

R2D2 (platonic) chirps, whistles, and wobbles on his two outer legs happily and is then adorably glued to your side the rest of the day. Han and Lando tease you about how you’ve found yourself your own personal servant, but Leia and Luke think it’s adorable, and even Luke comments on how much R2 loves you when he’s out of earshot. C3PO translates at some point, telling you how much R2 appreciates the compliment and that he enjoys working with you before the astromech is zipping away again to refill your water bottle for the third time.

C3PO (platonic) gives you a surprised “oh, my” before thanking you profusely. He even gives you a little bow and says, “You’re too kind. I enjoy our work together as well and you do a marvelous job at everything you set your mind to.” You give him a smile and a thanks before turning back to what you were previously doing, laughing quietly to you overhear him walking down the hall going, “Oh, Master Luke, you won’t believe what just happened!”

#star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars headcanons #star wars preferences #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker imagines #luke skywalker headcanons #leia organa #leia organa x reader #leia organa imagine #leia organa headcanon #han solo #han solo x reader #han solo imagine #han solo headcanons #lando calrissian #lando calrissian x reader #lando calrissian imagine #lando calrissian headcanon #chewbacca #r2d2 #c3po #ot gang reacts #my writing

[normal-person-i-promise]

yandere!sans aus x reader cuddles hcs!!

tw forced hugs, implied kidnapping and hostage situation, one-sided captor/hostage, implied cannibalism (nothing is done, just said), implied murder (blood on jacket)

really short because im running out of ideas raaaahhh

this is unfinished. i might finish it later but here ya go

♡ He usually lays on top of you, since he doesn't weigh as much as you do, and you can't escape. He doesn't like leaving you.

♡ It's quite sweet, actually, to see him practically melt when you reluctantly kiss his forehead or begrudgingly bury your face into his neck, disliking him as much as you do. It keeps him from getting angry, at least.

♡ He absolutely loves being the big spoon (on the rare occasion you hug on a bed), and will squeeze your chest tight enough to break a few ribs. It's fine! You'll heal.

Eventually.

♡ He prefers to be able to keep you from leaving, and if he's not done — he's never done — he will either:

A) Pull you back harshly, pushing you into him,

B) squeeze your ribcage, pushing the air — and your protests -— out of your lungs,

Or C) Threaten killing you. He'd never do it! He swears!

♡ If you end up falling asleep, you will usually wake to find him on top of you, arms on either side of your head, staring at you through that bright red eye light blown wide. You're so small! So weak! So defenseless!

How have you been surviving without him?

♡ He snores, but not so much until you can't sleep. It's the calming type, a sort of gentle rumbling that resounds through your body — it's one of the only soothing things about him, the low tone echoing through you as you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

♡ He always sleep talks, and you've heard your fair share of weird stuff. Whatever he says makes you feel uncomfortable, his sleepy, panicked voice always apologizing for the blood, for the mess.

You don't like listening for long.

♡ He's cold.

His bones are cool to the touch, and since he tries his best to press as much of himself onto you, practically suffocating you — you're never warm when he hugs you. It's almost like hugging an ice pack.

♡ He kisses you so often when you're trapped in his arms! On your head, on your hair, on your arms — you name it, he's kissed you there! He's always so gentle, and they're always followed by a compliment of how soft your flesh is, how nice it would be to take a bite.

He wouldn't!

♡ He's absolutely huge. Practically a walking giant. If he so wished, he could crush all the bones in your body and drink out your insides with a straw.

However, he has yet to do that since you came into his world, and instead uses his hulking body to envelop yours.

♡ Whenever you're in his arms, he enjoys muttering sweet nothings into your hair, unable to reach your ear.

They're always about how delicious your flesh would be, though...

♡ This is more of a general headcanon, but he likes to call you sweet things, like muffin, honey, sweetheart, fresh meat...

You can't quite catch the last one.

♡ He likes to be able to hide you away in his blue hoodie, and since it's thick and warm, you're more often than not bundled up inside it. The only thing that bothers you is that strong smell of iron.

♡ He enjoys surprising you and hearing your fearful screams when he tackles you onto the bed, pinning your arms to the soft mattress as he slowly lowers himself onto you, ignorant of your protests.

♡ He likes to feel your skin (due to his lack of it), and would always remark on how soft it is, how it would make amazingly tender hot dogs.

You don't like it when he does that, but telling him that could get you killed.

nightmare

× Whenever Nightmare embraces you, it's always so wet.

It's the worst thing paired with the smell, and it doesn't help that the stench just cannot get off your clothes and skin.

× The tentacles never leave your skin, always coiling around your arms and legs, lacing themselves between your fingers.

Nightmare likes to use his tentacles to keep you from leaving, usually.

× He always caresses your skin, enjoying licking the red scratches he makes with his sharp, bony hands.

Your arms are covered in small abrasions, all of them cut deep enough to make you bleed.

×

#sans x reader #nightmare sans #horror sans #horror sans x reader #nightmare sans x reader #real #i wouldve finsihed and editied this but uhg....... #i dont wannnaaaaaa #you get a half finished one. that is all #words on a page

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Part One: I Prefer Gold

Posted 21/05/23, Edited 29/06/23

Since joining Barcelona at the beginning of the season there was only one thing on your mind - winning the Champions League. Okay okay, that’s a lie - there were two things. Winning the league and an English player called Lucy Bronze. You’d grown up idolising the defender from a young age and now you’re on the same team it had given you a chance to get to know her personally as well as professionally. Day and night your brain had become consumed with thoughts of the brunette - the way she runs faster than anyone you’ve ever known, the way her smile lights up a room, the way her trousers are a little too baggy but most of all you were obsessed with the way she unknowingly lifts her top up to expose her rippled abs. Well, you thought she did it unknowingly but zoning back into reality you realised she was staring right at you from across the field where she’d caught your eyes on her stomach. Noticing that you’d been caught you quickly glanced away hoping to hide your embarrassment by talking to another team mate but there wasn’t anyone around. You were the only one on the bench and unable to play off that you were just chatting to someone your cheeks began to turn red, even from the other side of the training ground you could tell Lucy was chuckling to herself. Cover. Blown.

“(Y/l/n) laps with Bronze!” the coach shouted. Great. Perfect. Absolutely bloody marvellous! Rolling your eyes as you bent down to tie your boots you then dragged yourself across the pitch to meet her at the other side. “Can’t keep away from me can ya!” her cheeky smile paired with her Northern English accent sent sparks through your body as she elbowed your side. Racking your brain for a come back that wouldn’t expose your crush on her you settled with - “who better to test my pace against?” Lucy wasn’t short of confidence when it came to her body, her capabilities in the game or her way with women. “Catch me then!” she shouted as she legged it away from you “I haven’t stretched yet!” you called out causing her to spin and jog backwards shouting “excuse, excuses!” before turning around and finishing her run. Your eyes firmly on the back of her body as the day dreaming started again while you were out of her sight.

Making sure you were ready to give her a run for her money and finishing stretching your quads you felt Lucy’s heavy footsteps approach “ready to get beaten?” she called out cockily. ”In your dreams Bronzey!” you shouted back at her as you sprinted away without warning. Lucy’s calls from behind about cheating didn’t bother you and soon faded into the distance, you just wanted to beat her by any means necessary. Reaching the other side of the field you were ecstatic, jumping around to hold a L to your forehead soon realising that Lucy hadn’t even moved. Clearly not wanting to partake in a competition under false pretences or unfair conditions you jogged back to her with a cheesey grin on your face “couldn’t stand the heat could ya?” poking her ribs. “Coach wants you to fasten your runs, that’s not gonna happen if you don’t run with me” she said defiantly. Your eyes rolled instinctively making her fold her arms and look at you disappointed. The look on her face had a slight smirk, trying desperately to seem serious when she doesn’t have a serious bone in her body, the eye contact made you feel weak. “Day dreaming about me again?” she questioned, the smirk on her face now growing. “Absolutely not, you take up no space in my mind” you punched back. Lies. She sees right through you “then why you biting your lip again?” the questioning continued. Shit. Am I? Fuck I am. “We running or not?” she chuckled again at your quick change of conversation as she got into position.

3. 2. 1. You were off. Pushing your body to it’s absolute limits trying desperately to beat her. Length after length neither of you stopped. Little digs and comments flying between you until Lucy tapped out. “If you tap out, I win!” you called to the brunette in front of you as you pulled up to the line. “You really wanna be the person who wins through default?” her eyebrows raised, challenging your competitiveness. “I guess your old age worked in my favour” you shrugged knowing the comment will get her riled up. “You’re only 4 years younger than me you cheeky cow!” she took the bait slapping your shoulder. “As I said.. Old. Age” her cockiness had obviously rubbed off on you and she wasn’t enjoying you now having the upper hand now. “No one can beat me, just get over it loser” she shoved you lightly “the only way you’d win is if I piggy backed you across this field” she laughed. “I’d like to see that!” Alexia said as she approached you both. “I wonder if you could keep up your speed carrying (y/n) too”. Lucy was adamant that she could and at the calls that training was over said it’d have to wait for another day then jogged away to get changed.

Alexia pulled you aside before heading back to the changing room, “what’s with all the flirting? You like Bronze?” shrugging at her question “eh, I prefer gold” you winked at her, not realising your crush was still in ear shot. “Oh! Stab me in the heart why don’t you!” she shouted so loud it echoed around you as she looked back holding her heart in a dramatic fashion. Your mouth dropped open at the realisation she’d heard you. “Oh yeah, this old lady has impeccable hearing don’t ya know!” smiling as she went.

Shit.

Part Two

#Lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #barcelona wfc #barcelona femeni #lionesses x reader #woso masterlist #woso x reader

[shdo-xplosion]

Bedroom Add-Ons •°. *࿐

d. kaminari x k. bakugou x h. shinsou x reader

warnings: foursome, m/f, m/m, oral (both male and female receiving), fingering, rimming, vagina sex, anal sex, dirty talk, shinsou degrades denki once. 1.7k

notes: just a little something that was stuck in my head. enjoy the madness >:3

You’re dating Denki who used to hook up with Shinsou who’s now dating Bakugou but used to date you.

So, why haven’t all of you fucked at the same time?

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

It’s Shinsou who asks rather than your boyfriend, not that it’s surprising. Your boyfriend already knows that you are more than okay with this. Your ex on the other hand… well, the 2 of you never did anything like this when you were dating.

“Yes, Shin, I’m fine,” you smile. Still thoughtful even now.

Of course, it’s a little late to be asking. You’ve been naked on the bed for a while now, on display for all 3 men. Denki has been beaming since the others got to the apartment, Shinsou has been quietly skeptical, and Bakugou, staying a respectful distance away, has just been silent. He isn’t giving off any negative energy; he’s just… observing, taking everything in, maybe mentally preparing himself.

“Are you guys okay?” you ask with a little laugh. “Shinsou? Will this be weird for you?”

He shrugs his shoulders and offers a soft smile, “probably, but in a nostalgic kind of way.”

“And Bakugou? Are you okay with your boyfriend… ya know?”

It takes a moment, but the blond nods. “Be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t curious.” Then he smirks, a much more familiar expression. “Plus, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten pussy.”

Excitement bubbles in your tummy. He’s the add-on here. You’re with Denki now, dated Shinsou years ago who used to hook up with Denki but is now with Bakugou, and it’s all just convoluted. You suppose that’s what happens when you date within friends groups. There’s no bitterness, only minor insecurities. Sometimes you wonder if you satisfy Denki the way Shinsou did, and he has the same worry, but other than that there haven’t been any problems.

You’ve also had a couple opportunities for you and Bakugou to hook up. It’s just never panned out for one reason or another. You think you’ve both been mildly interested since high school, but it’s never been a nagging crush or that heady kind of lust you’ve experienced with others.

Tonight, though… tonight everyone is coming together (hopefully in more ways than one).

Naturally, Denki moves first, eager to kiss you and taste your tongue. You smile into each other, giggling like you always do during intimate moments. He glides his hand down your ribs, making you wiggle and laugh harder.

Shinsou exhales a chuckle—you’d recognize the sound anywhere— “damn, I forgot how cute you are.”

He strips off his shirt as he makes his way to the bed, not even a little embarrassed when he slaps Denki’s ass. The crack of his hand is loud, and Denki yelps in surprise though he doesn’t look offended.

“Damn, babe. Gonna wear his ass out before anyone else can get a piece,” Bakugou scoffs.

The guys shed the remainder of their clothes then find comfortable places on your king-sized bed. The amount of times you and your boyfriend have rolled around in the sheets is truly unfathomable, but this is a first.

Surprisingly, Denki is quick to guide Bakugou between your legs, grinning at him. “If you miss pussy, you won’t have a problem eating hers. Believe me, you won’t regret it.”

The other blond has no complaints, lifting both of your legs to rest over his shoulders then lowering his face to your cunt. Denki positions himself behind Bakugou, hunger shining in his eyes when he admires the curve of his friend’s ass, spreading his cheeks to spit on his hole. Bakugou grunts, pausing in licking your pussy, though not for long as you fist a hand in his spiky hair and gently shove his face back down. He chuckles, tongue delving between your folds and making you moan.

Shinsou moves close to you at his usual slow pace, laying beside you and cupping your jaw to turn your face. His lips are familiar, easy to get lost in like you used to so often. It takes no time to fall into your old rhythm, though you’re both a little more insistent than before.

Your hand trails down his chest until you can wrap your fingers around his cock. He’s a little bigger than Denki, thicker but only slightly longer. Uncut, you pump him with ease, stomach fluttering at the groan it pulls from him.

Further down your body, Bakugou lets out a long, deep sound, and you glance up to the sight of your boyfriend slowly sliding a finger into Bakugou’s hole.

“Fuuuuck,” he breathes, eyes rolling. The way he laps at you becomes sloppy, distracted by his own pleasure but still determined to give you yours. He’s all spit and slow licks, drenching you in drool and your own slick. It’s unbelievably hot, not just seeing but feeling the way Denki has him buckling.

Shinsou guides your lips back to his. His kiss grows harsher as he gropes your tits, tweaking one of your nipples so that you buck against Bakugou. He’s hot in your palm, precum dripping from his tip and onto your hand.

There’s so much movement, so many limbs. Denki must be excited to move along as he prompts, “Bakugou, you ready to fuck her?”

Bakugou nods, rubbing his face against you and bumping your clit with his nose.

The other men take a short break so that Bakugou can push into you, allowing you to get used to his fat cock. He feels so good, stretching you out and mumbling under his breath. Denki resumes fingering him, and you return to jacking Shinsou off until Bakugou speaks up and growls, “want you to ride me.”

Denki pulls away, then Bakugou, everyone resituating. He pulls you down onto his cock, and you feel your eyes roll aimlessly. Your boyfriend gets on his knees beside you, angling his hips so that you can bend and suckle at his glistening head, but not before Shinsou slips under him, pulling Denki’s hips down to his face.

It’s chaotic, no real rhythm. You slobber all over your boyfriend while Bakugou fucks up into you, and Denki is quick to fall apart as Shinsou eats his ass. Once he’s wet and stretched, Shinsou slowly pushes into Denki’s tight hole, breath leaving his lungs in a harsh exhale, thrusting gently a couple of times before realizing the angle simply will not work.

New position: reverse cowgirl on Bakugou’s cock, your back arched so that Denki can stuff your mouth again where he kneels between Bakugou’s legs, and Shinsou fucking him from behind.

This is how it stays, all of you finally falling into sync. Denki manages to play with your clit even through Shinsou’s deep thrusts, though his fingers are twitchy, frantic swipes over your puffy bud so that you squirt and squirt and squirt, steady stream soaking Bakugou’s thighs and the blankets between.

You gag on Denki, slurping up his pre and your slippery spit. The wet noise slapping with every push and pull of Bakugou is a tell-tale sign of your pussy creaming around him, and even if you weren’t aware, Bakugou growls about how much he loves it, “messy fuckin’ girl—look at all this—” You feel his touch at the base of his cock, close to your asshole, and suddenly Denki pulls out of your mouth so that Bakugou can replace him with his calloused fingers.

You cough and gag but still clean him, and the sight must be too much for Denki because he starts whining, “gonna cum, m’gonna cum,” and Bakugou presses his fingers into your cheeks right between your teeth so that your mouth is forced open.

The first line of cum makes you jump and tense around Bakugou, but you’re prepared for the rest, some of it landing on your tongue but most of it just painting your face.

“Baby, you’re so pretty like this,” Denki croons dreamily, planting a sloppy kiss on your mouth so that his cum coats both of your tongues. Shinsou keeps fucking him just like Bakugou keeps fucking you. Slightly less distracted now, Denki is able to pay better attention to your neglected clit, flicking over it, lightly pinching, rubbing circles until you start to tense up.

“Oh, god… oh, please, keep…”

“Come on, sweet girl, cum for all of us. We wanna see you cum so bad,” Denki breathes into your ear hotly. You can hear the smile in his voice when you begin to unravel. “That’s my girl, cum so pretty for me.”

Your spasming muscles pull Bakugou over the edge next, hips stuttering as his orgasm hits him and he begins to shoot his load into you—hot and thick, filling you until it starts to drip back down his shaft.

“Fuck, you’re all so…” Shinsou growls animalistically, plunging into Denki with a new desperation, his fingernails digging into his hips so that the skin around them reddens. “So close, I’m so…”

As soon as Denki starts rocking his hips back to meet his thrusts, Shinsou stills, head falling back, jaw dropping open. He uses the blond to stroke himself to completion, and when he cums inside of Denki, they both moan like whores.

“Fuck yes, fill my ass, Toshi, feels good.”

“Yeah? You like it? Miss being my cumslut?”

The vulgarity doesn’t surprise you coming from Denki, but hearing Shinsou talk like that shocks you. He never used to talk that dirty to you, but you kind of wish he had because it is extremely sexy.

You collapse backward onto Bakugou’s chest, his softening dick sliding from your ruined pussy. Denki follows suit and falls on top of you, resting his face on the lower part of your tummy, and a heavy grunt is pushed out of you when Shinsou lays on top of Denki.

It probably looks ridiculous. You know it feels ridiculous. But you don’t think any of you can even move at this point, so thoroughly fucked out all you can really do is breathe and bask in the humidity of post sex bliss.

“Well, shit,” Bakugou huffs. “Might have to make that a regular part of my schedule.”

Shinsou agrees with an amused, “Seconded.”

Denki shifts, mumbles, “phone, phone,” almost incoherently until Bakugou grabs it off the nightstand and hands it to him.

He unlocks it, clicks a few things while his face is still smushed against you, then prompts, “we’re both free Wednesdays and Saturdays after six.”

2023 ©️shidou-x. please do not plagiarize or repost my work to any other platforms.

#bakugou x reader #shinsou x reader #kaminari x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bnha x you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Nightlife 9

Warnings: touching, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Part of The Club AU

You can barely look at Lee as shame nips at your wits. Your body is still tingly with the aftermath of what happened. Even an hour later. It replays in your mind, over and over, even as you try not to think about it. You can’t believe you did what you did and you just can’t believe how much you enjoyed it.

He did too. You could tell by the way he twitched. How after he held you against him, reluctant to let you go as his large belly rose and fell slowly beneath you.

The world feels far away until you come in sight of your building. You blink through the window, refusing to look at Lee. Every time you do, you’re reminded of what you’ve done. Worse, that quest splits your head; was it okay? Was it wrong?

“Gimme a kiss, sweetheart,” Lee demands as he puts on the parking brake, “‘fore ya go.”

You look down at your lap then slowly turn your head. He grabs your chin, startling you, and pulls you close. He crushes his mouth to yours sloppily as you squeak. Finally, he parts but his hand remains locked on your jaw.

“I gotta go get some sleep but you go on to class. Don’t forget to pack a bag for tonight, darlin’.”

“Tonight?” You pout.

“Yeah, you’re not gonna leave lil Hickory all alone, are ya?”

You suck in your lip and think. You almost forgot. You feel worse for that. The thought of the kitten being all alone for so long. You can’t do that.

“Oh, yeah,” you gulp, “yeah, I’ll bring a bag.”

“Just give a call when you’re ready. I’ll be awake ‘round three or four,” he explains, his hand brushing down your throat. He lets out a hum as he feels how you swallow nervously. “I’ll pick ya up and all that.”

“Um, okay,” you acquiesce, “yes, sir.”

“Be good,” he winks and gives a firm squeeze to your chest, “don’t think of me too much.”

You look down as he finally retracts his touch. You resist the urge to cover your chest, instead pulling on the handle and letting yourself out of the car. You snatch up your bag and give a tight-lipped smile before spinning away. The door snaps shut in your stead and you scurry away.

It can’t be that bad. Not if he’s acting like that. Not if you enjoyed it so much.

💮

The day draws on. As the hours roll by, you get more and more nervous about what comes next. The quiz for Social Psychology doesn’t seem as intimidating in comparison to Lee. And you don’t think you did too bad.

You go back to the dorm. Raquel isn’t there. She might be at class but more likely she’s with her friends.

You shove some pajamas and a fresh set of clothes in a bag and toss it with your knapsack. You don’t want to call Lee just yet. You need a little bit of time to yourself; without professors or coeds or anyone around.

He messages you first. You swipe up the conversation and are greeted by a picture of Hickory. Beneath him, you see a glimpse of Lee’s chest, covered only by a thin ribbed tank top. The cat is so cute, you don’t really think about the man under him.

‘Cute!’ You text back.

‘Ready to go? Kitty’s waiting.’

He’s straight to the point as always. It’s past five. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. 

‘Sure,’ you reply. You’re not really ready but you don’t think you ever will be.

You grab your bags, knapsack on your shoulder, tote in hand, and you go down to wait on the steps. You play a matching game on your phone as students walk by, to and from their respective abodes.

A toot breaks your attention from a nearby squirrel. It flits away and you look up as Lee’s car putters at the curb. You stand and he gets out. As you come down the walk, he opens the passenger door for you.

“Hey, darlin’,” he grins and bends to kiss you. Taken by surprise, you let him, trying not to care about the passerbys.

“Hi, Lee,” you say breathless as he pulls away.

“God, I love it when you say my name,” he winks, “come on then, let’s get going.”

You get in and he shuts the door. You place your bags on the floor by your feet. You buckle in as he goes around to the driver’s side and gets in. He pulls down the seatbelt and clicks it into place. He clears his throat, searching around as if he’s lost something.

“I went out and got some toys for lil Hick,” he says, “uh…” he reaches behind your seat, “so you can keep him entertained.” He sits up and holds a small black bag, “bought you something to play with too.”

He hands over the bag and you take it in surprise. You feel the shape of a box through the plastic. You chew your lip and glance back at him.

“Oh, thank you,” you smile and clasp it in your hands.

“Ain’t nothing,” he says as he shifts into gear. He steps on the pedal, pulling out onto the street patiently. “Well, you gonna see what’s inside?”

You look down and turn over the bag. It rustles as you examine it and reach inside. You slide it out little by little, the hot pink cardboard a surprise. It’s so bright. You flip it over to read the front;  ‘Three speed bullet vibe.’ Your mouth falls open at the sight of the small vibrator visible through the transparent plastic.

“What… I… Lee, I don’t– I can’t–” You quickly hide the toy.

“Thinking you should explore a little,” he drawls, “since ya said you never done much before. It’s always good to get to know yourself, isn’t it?”

“Well, um, I guess, but… I don’t know.”

“If you need help, I don’t mind, I could show you how it works,” he says, “I only thought you might feel more comfortable figuring it out… then you could show me.”

“Ummmmmm,” your voice floats from you. You’re speechless.

“You’ll be all alone and I hate that I can’t be there with ya, so I only thought you would have lots of time to… you know.”

“It’s very nice of you, Lee, but I think maybe, um, well, I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“Don’t you be lying,” he warns, his timbre gritting, “I felt ya this morning. Shaking like a leaf. You don’t know what you’re feeling. Trust me, it’ll be easier once you know what you like.”

You sniff and squeeze the bag in your hands. You’re burning in horror.

“Er, okay, I’ll… okay.”

He’s quiet as he follows the flow of traffic. He shifts in his seat and clears his throat. He looks over at you quickly and a purr rises from his chest.

“Why don’t you open it up and give it a try now?”

“What?”

“It’s fine, just slip it on out.”

“Lee, maybe… later.”

“Darlin’, I got you a gift, don’t be rude.”

You stare at your hands. They’re shaking. You can’t say no. Not now. He’s bought this for you. He’s come all this way. And it’s just a toy. Just sex, right? Everyone else is having it so it can’t be that bad.

You slowly pull the box out of the bag again. You open the lid and slide out the plastic insert. It crinkles as you pop out the toy, feeling the silicon between your fingers. You clumsily free the battery and examine the toy, twisting the end as you figure out how to load it. You put it back together and hold it in your palm.

“Go on, turn it on,” he rasps.

You grip the toy and press the button with your thumb. You angle your hand over your lap as the vibrations rattle through you.

“Spread your legs wide,” he orders.

You obey.

“Now put it right up against yourself.”

You hold your breath as you do as he says. The toy quakes against you and the sensation makes your whine. The intensity has your legs snapping shut around your hand.

“Now, don’t you stop,” he demands, “not til you cum.”

“Lee,” you babble.

“Hush, sweet thing, I hear it in your voice, feels good, don’t it?”

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #the devil all the time #au #drabble #series #nightlife

[sansxreaderbraindump]

"Stored Away" (a story idea)

Plot idea Sans au x reader One day when you were cleaning out your old drawer, you found your 2016 old fanart and fanfiction of you and sans being lovey dovely. you made this way back in middle school before you fell out of the fandom, man you were obsessed with this character and that alone made you cringed. You laughed as you made fun of yourself inside your own mind, going through the drawings and writing. Cringing at every word mistake and not very detailed parts like first meeting then straight towards dating? Kid [name] really wanted to go to the part they wanted. "Thank god, nobody had to see this dumpster fire."

Even though you hated your own old writing and drawings, you were charmed by it. It gave the embarrassing feeling yes, but also made you feel nostalgic.. So you grabbed a Black shoe box and threw in the "sansxreader" trash and stored it away inside your closet. Hoping to god that nobody can ever find it and be lost in time forever. After you finished cleaning out your old dresser, you cleaned yourself up and went to bed, But before you could even settled into bed you heard voices and groans from your closet. * well this isn't how I wanted to come out? * WHO DA F*CK ARE YOU PEOPLE!? WHY THE HELL AM I IN A CLOSET!? OW- BASTERD YOU JUST ELBOWED INTO MY F*CKING RIBS!! * NOW NOW NO NEED FOR CURSING, AS UNORTUNATE THIS SITUATION IS. I, THE MAGNIFENET SANS WILL BREAK OUT OF THIS IMPRESSIVE TRAP NO MATTER WHAT! MEHEHEHEHEH!! * NOW STEP BACK ME'S IM GOING TO FREE US!! * ok. Then BAM! Three sanses just broke out of your closet and in a instant they looked at you. * oh hey look its a human. "WHAT THE FUC-" (end) this very cool idea I agree 😎 also i thought of in the future chapters of this story idea if it becomes a fanfic, i would add in 2 sanses to the mix so you have 5 sanses to make sure you are loved 💪💪♥ Guess that snas's 2 Hints (very obvious) 1: "bro just don't be hungry *dies*" 2. "womp womp womp made ya kill ur own bro :/" did you guess it? YIP YIP HOOARY YOU GUESS IT RIGHT (because it very obvious) ITS HORROR AND DUST!!! :DDD had to put them in because they are my bad boy crushes 🥰 so uh if you reached to the end just want you to know I'm gonna make headcanons of this story ideas so stay around if ya want. (plz)

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #sans au x reader #CRINGE IS DEAD GUYS BE NOT ASHAMED 😎 #i made this because “hehe get it skeletons in ur closet” but also “sansxreader” stuff in ur closet ✨ #rant fanfic idea post

[bi-disaster-yn]

Vital Organs

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is in love with her best friend, Bucky. The feeling is mutual but having a troubled relationship with her father means that she’s scared to risk the heartbreak.

A/N: I MAY have cried while writing this. To all the girls who, like me, have shitty dads and derive a lot of comfort from Bucky - I’m dedicating this to you. We deserved better.

“Do ya think you’d ever go on a date with me?”

Bucky’s words echoed in your brain, sending a sharp pain in your chest with each repetition. The quietness in the jet only increased the agony of that moment being replayed. Your best friend had stood before you and put his emotions on the line - something he had never afforded himself to do. Then you made him realise why.

Two of your ribs were fractured from the mission but that thought was more painful.

“So quiet, what are you thinking about?” Yelena commented, looking over her shoulder from her pilot duties to check up on you.

“Nothing.” You replied putting your hand over your ribs and resting your back against the seat.

Bucky was going to be so worried when he’d found out you’d been injured. You could see it now, him following you around like a puppy. At least, he might have done if you’d given him a better answer than ‘I don’t know’ to a date. When you left for the mission he had worn a wounded expression that he’d desperately tried to conceal as you told him goodbye.

The truth is, when Bucky had asked you that question it threw your body into a complete state of conflict.

Your heart was about to burst out of your chest, as if it was trying to escape and connect with Bucky’s. It was crying out for you to say yes to him and take everything you had ever wanted.

That was until your brain stepped in and lassoed your heart to keep it in its place. The logic had corrupted you and was determined to prevent you from getting hurt. It wore you down and drowned out the excitement of your heart. It went to work in bringing back all the disappointment and hurt caused by your father who had left you behind at an early age.

But your lungs burned. The air was trapped in them and you struggled to breathe. It felt like you were being suffocated. It was a curious and familiar feeling from when you were younger.

To be the daughter of a man who abandons you is to constantly hold your breath in fear that if you let go, you’ll fall apart.

The other organs had overpowered and barricaded your lonely heart. They left you in the predicament of stuttering and stammering in front of a very nervous Bucky which had concluded with your pathetic answer. The memory had plagued you ever since.

Simultaneously, your brain provided you with flashbacks of being a child and waiting excitedly for a a man that rarely ever came. The feeling of disappointment after every interaction with your father that somehow managed to make you feel so unimportant had returned. The lump in your throat held there with every breath reminded you of the struggle to accept that he was never going to be what you needed to him to be.

It had taken some bone-crushing strength to move on. He was your father and you needed him to be better. As his child, you believed you should be the only motivation he needed to stop being so unreliable and grow up.

Whilst you were right, that is unfortunately not how the world works.

Now the perfect man had asked you the question you deemed was only possible in your wildest dreams. But to say yes to him was to give him access to potentially do the exact same thing as your father had done.

It was just too much of a risk.

*

The jet had landed with a halt and Yelena came over to assist you with walking off. You were quietly grateful for her, trying to hide just how much pain in you were in as you grasped Yelena’s shoulder.

Sam was poised and waiting for you both. Bucky stood next to him, fidgeting anxiously in anticipation of your return. He had spent the last few days licking his wounds in your absence. He had accepted that you had only ever been so affectionate with him because you were a good friend and he’d misinterpreted it. It fucking stung, but he respected that you can’t help how you feel. Although your answer had left him unsure where he stood with you, he was eager for you to return so he could be the best friend you needed him to be.

Bucky’s face fell as his eyes landed on Yelena holding you up with your arm round her shoulders and your regular wincing.

“First of all, are you okay?” Sam asked, him and Bucky instinctively making their way over to you both, ready to take you from Yelena if need be.

“Yeah, just fractured some ribs. No biggie.” You joked but it sounded painful. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you, scanning and analysing you, processing the possibilities if this had been worse.

It made you feel weak and incompetent. The strong super soldier wanted to protect you and all you could think about is that you wished you were stronger. All of those years of having to establish your independence and leave behind weakness and vulnerability were completely discarded in that moment with Bucky’s pitiful look.

“Okay well, get checked out. No training or missions for you until you’re better.” Sam instructed, having settled into his new role as Captain America; he needed to make sure his team were in the best shape possible.

“Got it, Cap.” You nodded at Yelena to get her to take you to the medical wing of the compound. That was when Bucky stepped in.

“I’ll take it from here, Yelena.” He said and before you could even say anything, you were scooped up into Bucky’s arms and he was carrying into the compound.

“I could have walked.” You protested meekly. Being in his arms felt awkward, you didn’t allow yourself to hold on to him because then you’d stop holding your breath and you’d be done for.

“This is easier.” He retorted. For the first time since Bucky had started his recovery, he was unable to look you in the eye.

It was stony silence between you both, each of you having moments to open your mouths but no words came out. Nothing felt right. Despite being in his arms, a gap had been wedged between you and you were unsure how you’d ever be able to get back to him again.

You fixated on Bucky’s jaw which was constantly clenched, you could just about feel his teeth grinding together. His slouched shoulders and defeated expression didn’t go unnoticed by you. He was your best friend, you knew everything about him. Bucky was heartbroken.

Heartbroken, yet he still showed up for you when you needed him.

*

It was now a requirement that the compound had medical staff on hand at all times. Pepper had insisted on it in the rebuild, too many people had been lost. More preventative measures were put in place to keep the team as safe as possible.

You were thankful that you didn’t have to go to hospital but it now meant that Bucky was glued to your side as you were checked over. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, digesting everything the doctor had said to you while you lay back wishing he would go away.

Bucky being there was a constant reminder that you’d hurt him. Locked inside its cage, your heart wept at the thought, desperate for you to tell Bucky you’d been stupid and you’d love to date him, marry him, die for him.

It made your lungs tighten and your breath hitch, ready to give way. You had to be stronger than this. Love was not worth risking the pain of being abandoned. You had vowed never to give anyone the power to make you feel that way again.

When the doctor left, Bucky settled back into his chair, clearly having no intention of leaving. You settled down on the bed, feeling drowsy from the painkillers and squeezed your eyes shut like a child, wishing that when you opened them that he’d be gone.

Alas, moments later when you opened your eyes again he was still there, watching over you protectively.

“You don’t need to sit with me, Buck. I’m sure you’ve got better things to be doing.” You mumbled, looking away from him to stare out of the window.

“I am not leaving your side, need to make sure you’re okay.” Bucky responded. “And I missed you.”

His voice broke a little at the last four words, almost as though he was scared to admit it to you. It wasn’t like you were a stranger to his vulnerability but this felt different after him admitting to having feelings a few days prior. It made you frown.

“I missed you too.” You muttered. “I’m sorry about the other day.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Bucky said defensively and definitively as though he didn’t want to talk about it. He was ready to pretend it didn’t happen and move forward as your friend.

But Bucky deserved the whole world. The least you could do is offer an explanation.

“No, Bucky, you deserve better than an ‘I don’t know’. In all honesty, you’re… perfect. And I’ve loved you for a long time. The way my heart skipped a beat when you asked me that question, you have no idea. But I just can’t…”

“Why?” Bucky choked out, his voice still broken. He had moved to the edge of his seat again, his eyes constantly darting between you and your fingers which you were anxiously playing with.

“Can’t risk it. I can’t risk being abandoned.”

“I’d never leave you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” You snapped at him and instantly regretted it as you could sense his posture shrink with the unsolicited harshness. It wasn’t intentional but rather instinctual. Words were empty; if a parent could leave you then there was nothing to stop a boyfriend from doing the same thing.

“You promise me you won’t leave all the time.” Bucky offered after a couple of seconds of uncomfortable silence. He was right, in all of his moments of insecurity and grief after Hydra; it was you providing comfort and reassurance. It was you by his side, being his supportive and loving best friend.

“Because I know how shit it is to be left.” You sighed and felt the painful tug in your chest. Your breathing was rapid and your lungs were aching. They were agonisingly trying to keep everything in; keeping your heart locked up and holding your breath. You’d come too far, you couldn’t let go now.

“And you think I don’t?” It was Bucky’s turn to snap now.

His words were a cruel and embarrassing wake up call. It prompted you to give him eye contact and fuck, he really was broken.

It was so insensitive: you should have known better than that. Steve leaving him behind had had a profound effect on Bucky. Rarely did he ever let people see his tears but he had allowed you to cradle him like a baby while he sobbed for his friend who had left him behind.

“Buck, I’m so sorry.” You mumbled, feeling like a fool with your carelessness. Twice now had the tight leash you had kept on your lungs resulted in your words hurting Bucky. It was becoming more than you could bear.

Bucky shook his head lightly, waving off the comment and wiping the slate clean again. Nonetheless, he held your eye contact in search of further elaboration.

“It’s just I used to get all that crap from my dad about never leaving me and he did. It means nothing to me anymore. What if I’m not enough for you like I wasn’t for him?” Tears has trickled from the corners of your eyes and spilled down on to your face and the sheets.

Bucky wasted no time in getting up and sitting on the bed next to you, pulling you into his chest. The remaining pieces of the puzzle formed in his head. He had known before that any mention of your dad made you extremely uncomfortable and he had always changed the subject. Bucky understood all too well what it was like to be left behind, but not by a parent. Not by one of the very few people in this world that actually owed you something. He cursed himself for not considering this beforehand but quickly turned his focus to comforting you.

This time you didn’t protest to being taken in Bucky’s arms, you just wept into his t shirt as he stroked your hair and pressed loving kisses to the top of your head. Your brain was too fatigued to provide you with reasons why you should push him away. You just needed him.

“I need to protect my heart.” You asserted finally, trying to explain yourself further.

“Sweets, you’re breaking your own heart.” Bucky sighed as he pulled you in closer to him.

Just as you had cradled him when Steve left, it was his turn to do it for you. Engulfed in those strong arms, he rocked you gently and carefully. It felt safe and warm and like home.

Now that your brain had called surrender on this pointless fight against your feelings for Bucky, it played a different film in your head than memories of your dad.

You remembered Bucky teaching you to ride a motorbike. He had put your helmet on for you and let out a hearty laugh at the goofy grin you’d given him. Everything he did that day was with extreme patience as he’d put his hands over yours on the handlebars, explaining what everything was and how it worked. The praise he’d given you when you did something right had encouraged you to keep trying. Conversely, when you got something wrong or made a mistake; Bucky was calm and reassuring, compelling you to try again.

Or the time you’d gotten sick and were bedridden for days. Bucky made it his personal mission to take care of you. He was out of his depth, sure, but he had just tried to mirror what you had done when you comforted him after nightmares. Your cup of tea was never empty, you were never left without enough blankets, you never had to wait for your medicine. Bucky was attentive, caring and there.

Even today, you knew that based on his stoic face that you’d hurt him. But he still turned up for you. He was nothing like your father.

Bucky had proved already that he could be there. He was right: you were breaking your own heart. The trauma of abandonment had caused you to deny yourself a love that felt like home. You had been judge, jury and executioner in your own trial and had made a mistake.

Then it happened. You stopped holding your breath.

Your lungs expanded as fully as possible and then shrunk dramatically again. This process continued over and over as you inhaled as much air as possible and then exhaled in deep, incredible breaths.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Bucky asked, looking down at the powerful heaving of your chest and listening to your breathing.

You nodded in response, unable to offer any words. Without realising, you had clutched on to his t-shirt and balled up a bunch of the fabric in your fist.

It was exhausting after having kept your lungs in tension for so long but it was so liberating to let go safely. Focusing on the thudding of his heartbeat in his chest, it grounded and secured you.

Your own heart was screaming in her cage, knowing her rightful partner was close and she needed to be near him. You had set your brain and lungs free, it was time to do the same for your heart.

With some slow coaxing from Bucky as he rubbed your back and continued to kiss the top of your head, you started to calm down. Your lungs adjusted to regular breathing and seemed content in their new routine of being used the way they should always have been.

Your head was rested on Bucky’s chest, still finding comfort in his regular, clockwork heartbeat. The fabric of his shirt that you had grasped before had been let go and was left wrinkled and misshapen.

“You know, Doll,” Bucky began. “I understand why you feel like that, but I’m not your dad, okay?” He took a moment to look at you and ensure that you weren’t too upset or triggered for him to continue.

“You say you love me, so can you trust me? Can we give this a go?”

You looked up and met the adoring gaze of his ocean eyes. Instead of answering him with words you pressed your lips against his. It was soft and gentle, his flesh hand moving to hold your face. Even with his eyes closed, he’d studied your face enough to know where to run his thumb so it was along your cheekbone.

It was the key to unlocking your caged heart. She leapt from her shackled prison and lunged for Bucky’s heart to connect with him. The hearts embraced with the deepening of your kiss and formed an unbreakable bond.

When you finally pulled back for air - which your lungs were well accustomed to now - you couldn’t help but give each other a chuckle. Your foreheads met as your hearts worked in unison to pull you as close to each other as possible.

“Is that a yes then?” He asked, with a cheeky smile stretched across his face.

The insecurity and fear of being left was still there. You accepted that it always would be on some level. On the other hand, you’d had enough of constantly being on your guard and having to be so strong all the time. No longer would you send your vital organs into mortal combat over an irrelevant man when the man in front of you just wanted to love you.

“Yes.” You decided. “Yes it is.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #Bucky and reader #James Bucky Barnes #fatws bucky #FATWS Bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #friends to lovers #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #fatws fic #marvel fanfiction #the winter soldier x yn #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x female reader #the winter soldier

[munson-blurbs]

Hey my love I have a request for you, I'm a sucker for the one bed trope so I hope you forgive me. I was thinking maybe of a reader who's been Corroded Coffin's manager since high school, where she was just booking their gigs for free, but now that they've made it big it's more serious. She takes so much on and gets everything the guys need or want, no matter the effort, until she fucks up one night and has a breakdown. She accidentally books one less room than she meant too, a small thing, but she's been under so much stress that it causes her to crack. Eddie comforts her and she sleeps in his bed with him, where they might admit their feelings?

Sorry if this was too specific

Not too specific at all! I love it!

Warnings: language, bed sharing, no smut

WC: 1.5k

--

"This is it, baby!" Eddie says as the taxi van pulls up to the hotel. "N-Y-C! We made it!" His smile is so wide, you're worried it might fall off of his face. "Who would've thought that four schmucks from Hawkins, Indiana would be playing Radio City?"

I always knew, you think. You've been managing Corroded Coffin since high school, first booking gigs at school dances and local hole-in-the-wall venues. You'd assumed that the guys would find a new manager once they signed with a record label, but they'd insisted you stick around.

"I can't wait to wash the airplane stink off of me," Jeff complains. "What are the room arrangements again?"

"You and Gareth, Eddie and Trevor, and then me," you tell him.

Gareth audibly groans at the assignments. "Why do you get your own room?" he whines.

"When you have boobs, you can have your own room," you retort, and you hear Eddie's laughter hum through the car.

"She's got ya there, dude," he ribs him. "Now help me get all of this shit out of the trunk."

You pay the cab driver and thank him as the guys unload the luggage and instruments, still arguing over the rooms.

"Welcome to the Cityscape Hotel," a bored-looking receptionist drones from behind the oak desk. Her silver-plated name tag reads Faye. "What name is the reservation under?"

You give her your name as she looks it up in the reservation book. "Yup, I see it here. Two king rooms, correct?"

"Um, no," you stammer, palms sweating. "Should be three rooms: one king and two queens."

Faye clucks her tongue and tilts her head, rereading the entry. "Mm, nope. We only have you down for the two kings."

"N-no, I'm sure I booked..." You feel your cheeks burning as the guys stare at you. Fuck. "Do you have any other rooms we can book?" You have the record label's credit card in your wallet, so you could pay any price.

"We're completely sold out this weekend," she informs you, not an ounce of remorse in her voice. "The rooms have pull-out beds that fit one, though."

"See?" Eddie chimes in, throwing an arm around you comfortingly. "It'll all work out. We'll just re-arrange things."

"Who are you gonna bunk with?" Gareth asks you pointedly. "Looks like your boobs aren't getting you out of this one."

You huff, trying to blink away the tears. You had one fucking job and you blew it, the weekend of their biggest gig yet.

"I'll stay with her," Eddie offers, "if that's okay with you," he adds, gazing at you with his chocolate brown eyes.

"Y-yeah, that's fine," you mumble. The thought of sharing a room with Eddie makes you hot all over. You've had the fattest, most embarrassing crush on him since high school; now, five years after graduation, you'd never so much as considered telling him.

"Great! It's settled then!" Eddie grabs your room key off of the desk and motions to the luggage on the ground. "Let's get this shit unpacked so we can get something to eat. I'm starving!"

After chowing down on some incredible pizza--no one does it like New York City--you all head back to your rooms. Traveling always exhausts you, and you're desperately craving a good night's sleep.

"I'll take the couch," Eddie tells you as he unlocks the door. "You can have the bed."

"Such a gentleman," you tease, "but are you sure? I'm not the one playing Radio City tomorrow."

Eddie nods. "Positive." He starts to pull out the sofa bed, groaning when the spring sticks. Re-adjusting his grip, he tries again, to no avail.

"Everything okay?" you ask, grabbing your toothbrush from your suitcase.

"It's, uh, it's broken," he laments. "You wanna try?"

"Sure," you shrug. You give it a shot, but you're just as successful as Eddie was. "Fuck!" you cry out, kicking the leg and wincing in pain. Tears spill over your lashes as you plop down onto the bed. You rest your head in your hands as the sobs wrack your body. "Nothing is going right!"

"Whoa," Eddie breathes, sitting down next to you and rubbing your back. "It's totally okay."

"No, it's not!" you protest. "I wanted everything to be perfect, and I ruined it. I'm so sorry, Eddie."

"Ruined--sweetheart, without you, we would never have even made it this far," he brushes a lock of your hair behind your ear. "You're the one who got us that meeting with the label exec, remember? We owe all of this to you."

You sniffle and rest your head on his shoulder. "You're just saying that so I'll stop crying."

"Nope," he gives you a small smile. "We'd still be playing to our crowd of five drunks at the Hideout if you weren't our manager." He stands up and offers his hand. "C'mon, let's get ready for bed. The lack of sleep probably isn't helping."

"B-but where are you gonna sleep?" you ask quietly.

He frowns, crinkling his nose. "Maybe we could share the bed? No weird stuff, I promise." He holds up his hands in surrender, making you giggle.

The two of you wash up before bed; the whole routine seems extraordinarily domestic for people who aren't in a relationship. Eddie nudges your hip while you brush your teeth together, and you flick his bicep in retaliation.

"Nice pajamas," he jokes, pointing at the oversized Corroded Coffin t-shirt that covers most of your shorts. "Are they any good?"

"Eh," you shrug. "They've got one or two songs I like. I actually found this shirt in the dumpster."

Eddie gasps in mock-offense. "How dare you!" he bellows, and you shush him before any of the other guests can make a noise complaint.

You turn off the lights and climb into bed. Eddie gets in next to you, wearing just his undershirt and boxer shorts. You feel the heat radiating from his body, and you wish you had the courage to snuggle into him.

"Good night," you say softly. You're so tired; you should fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow, but the nerves coursing through your veins have other plans.

"Hey, Y/N?" Eddie muses. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mm?"

He sighs. "How come you're only managing us? Not that we don't want you to," he adds hastily, "but you could be doing anything else. Managing much bigger talent, to be honest."

"I love being your manager," you tell him. "It's been amazing watching your dreams come true. My little rockstars are all grown up." You wipe an imaginary tear from your eyes.

"I'm serious!" he whines, and you realize he's inched closer to you, his chin resting on your shoulder. You can smell the minty aftertaste of his toothpaste on his breath. "I can't believe you've stuck with us this long."

Because I love you, you think, but you push the idea aside. "I never thought I'd make a career out of it, but maybe I could. I can make business cards and everything!" The thought excites you; you'd been toying with the idea of being a professional manager, but it sounded silly until Eddie said it.

"B-but you wouldn't stop being our manager, right?" Eddie stutters. "Because I-we still need you." He rubs his his face. "Fuck. I'm really nervous right now."

You nuzzle into him. "You have no reason to be nervous, Eds," you reassure him. "You're gonna kill it out there tomorrow. This city isn't gonna know what hit 'em."

"No," he shakes his head, his mop of curls tickling your face. "I'm nervous because--because I really, really fuckin' like you, Y/N. And being next to you in this bed...God, this is gonna sound so lame, but I just wanna hold you." He gives a short laugh. "Prettiest girl in the world is in my bed, and I can only think about being a big spoon."

"Technically, you're in my bed," you correct him playfully. "But I'd like it if you held me. And I'm definitely more of a little spoon, so it sounds meant to be." You shift so your back is against his chest, his strong arm draped over your torso. After a few minutes, you feel him press soft kisses to the nape of your neck, and your heart flutters.

"'M sorry," he pulls back, realizing what he's doing.

You turn to face him, bringing nose to nose. "Don't be." And before you lose your courage, you bring your lips to his. His hand instinctively flies to your face, cupping your cheek as he deepens the kiss, breaking it only to take a breath.

"All right, rockstar," you say sleepily, kissing his nose before settling back into your cuddling position. "Get some rest. You have a big day ahead of you."

"Yeah," Eddie mumbles into his pillow, rubbing his thumb along your arm, "like I'm really gonna sleep after that."

--

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #requests

[effervescentdragon]

Carra whump is so underrated like I so desperately need a beat up Carra being tended to by Gnev. Bonus points if he was brawling defending Gnev’s honour.

i had a certain au in mind but that one isn't really ripe for picking in my mind, however i saw this art of yours this morning in between my slumbers and, well. i really hope you like this <3

"Gaz, lay off - lay off, shit - ow, ow, c'mon -"

"Carra, I swear to fuckin' God, shut the fuck up you baby, you brought this on ya self -"

"Youse could be a bit gentler -"

"Then move your head, I can't get to the cut and it's still fuckin' bleedin', 's not stoppin -"

"Ah, it's nothin'. Might leave a scar, though, how cool would that be, just -"

"Shut the fuck up, James!"

Jamie shuts up, because Gary actually yells at him, loud and proper. The breath he sucks in after is shaky, his lips pinched and his eyebrows furled, but when Jamie looks into his eyes, they're... they're huge, and Jamie doesn't know what that means.

"Gary?" Jamie says quietly, his burst lip opening up again. He feels it start to bleed again and he licks the iron, not wanting Gary to get even more upset. "Gary, lad, I'm -"

"Don't call me lad, I'm older than you." Gary scowls. The paper towel in his hand makes a reappearance, and Gary's touch is surprisingly gentle when he dabs against Jamie's lip.

"Not taller, though," Jamie says on reflex. He's had a growth spurt from one summer to the other in his teens, and now, at nineteen, he towers over Gary for the third year in a row.

Well, usually he towers over Gary. Not right this moment, though.

Now, he's sat on the edge of the tub in Gary's upstairs bathroom as Gary tries to deal with the mess that's Jamie's face after the fight. Gary himself hasn't been hurt; Gary hadn't even been there. He'd got to the alley just as that piece of shit John threw the final kick, and seeing Gary, him and his two friends gunned it out of there like there was no tomorrow. Gary'd screamed at them, fiery as always and fully prepared to beat up high school kids, if the furious way he was swearing was any indication, but Jamie'd tried to move and groaned in pain. That distracted Gary thoroughly and completely.

"They aren't aren't in," he explained as he half-dragged, half-carried Jamie to his Aunt's house. "They're with the kids, some camp this whole week and I came in earlier than I was supposed to. Aunt Linda left the key for me, thought I could use some alone time away from my folks on my break," he'd said. "I already hate this town and it hates me, how the fuck am I supposed to rest when the first thing I see is your arse being kicked by some kids?"

"There was three of them," Jamie had tried to protest, but Gary scowled at him and told him to shut up and sit hii ass down so he could see how badly he was hurt.

That brought them to this; Jamie sitting on the edge of the bathtub and Gary looking down at him after cleaning his face with some alcohol and gauze. Jamie's head hurts, and he's pretty sure there's something wrong with his ribs, but Gary is fretting and he is mad - maybe at Jamie, probably, he's always mad at Jamie these days - and he is so, so cute when he's all commanding and taking charge. Jamie understands why he's the captain of the Under 21s.

"Where else are you hurt?" Gary asks, his hand tracing Jamie's busted brow, as if unthinking of the action, and Jamie suddenly also understands that his adolescent crush might not have been as far away in the past as it used to be. "Tell me."

Jamie's left hand is on Gary's waist. He's acutely aware of that fact, because he grabbed onto Gary for support when Gary started cleaning his face. He wants to hold on, but he makes himself let go.

"I'm fine, leave it. You fixed me up as well as possible, and I'll be -"

"Jamie." Jamie stops, again, because Gary doesn't call him Jamie anymore, not like before, when Jamie was fourteen and Gary was seventeen and the best football player Jamie knew and a friend and larger than life. These days it's all wrong, or it feels like it's all wrong. It's Carra when he's in a good mood and James when he's mad, and Jamie doesn't know what to do with this, or with the soft little, "Please."

He looks up at Gary. He's still larger than life, somehow. His eyes are still huge and a beautiful brown colour.

"My ribs," he says, equally quietly. "That cunt got a kick in at the end, and I don't think they're broken -"

"Take off your shirt."

Jamie tries not to react, but the tone Gary uses and the words, put together... Jamie's acutely aware he's not looking at Gary and that his face feels hot as he obeys. He's slow in taking of his dirty shirt. It's red, so at least the blood doesn't show. He drops it on the floor and closes his eyes as Gary bends over, then goes on his knees in front of Jamie to better look at his ribs.

Jamie takes one look down and shuts his eyes tightly enough he sees spots playing in the darkness behind his lids.

Cold fingers press against his skin. "Does this hurt?" Jamie shakes his head, and Gary continues pressing until he finds the place that makes Jamie wince. "That's what I thought. I don't think they're broken, but ya gotta take it easy for a while."

Jamie nods. Gary's fingers are warming up on Jamie's skin. "Aye, captain," he tries to put some scorn in his tone, but he knows it all comes out wrong. He still hasn't opened his eyes.

He hears Gary shuffling and huffing. His breathing is erratic and he leans on Jamie's thigh in support as he gets up. Jamie forces himself to open his eyes.

Mistake. Gary is staring at him like he wants to see inside Jamie's mind. "Why were you fighting?" he asks. His shirt is white. There's dirt on one side, in the shape of Jamie's fingertips. Jamie knows how soft the material is, and how soft Gary's waist is under it.

"They were talkin' shit," Jamie says. It's cold in the bathroom, but he's running hot. "I couldn't let them get away with it."

Gary rolls his eyes. "You talk shit, Carra, you should know how it goes. The fuck did they say to you to make ya think it's a good idea to fight three of them?"

"There were only two when I threw the first punch," Jamie corrects, and Gary lets out a giggle.

"You're an idiot," he says, and there is a little smile in the corner of his mouth that he can't hide. "You could've got seriously hurt, and then what? You'd lose the place in the squad, you just wrote me they're letting you debut for the first team, you idiot! Nothing they said is worth missing that shot, James, I told you to keep your temper, I told you it'll get ya into trouble, and I was right, look at your face now, all busted up -"

"What, am I not handsome anymore?" Jamie grins, his lip hurting like hell but worth it to see Gary scowl again. "I'm still the handsomest bastard youse've seen -"

"Bastard is right, ya' idiot, to miss a chance because of fightin' -"

"But hadsome? Rugged, wouldn't ye say -"

"I'd said it a million times and I'mma say it again, only an idiot would risk the first team for fightin' -"

"Well I was fighting for ye honour, so catch me doing that again when all it gets me is bein' called an idiot!"

Jamie doesn't think when he says it. Him and Gary had always bantered, quick as whips both of them, and Jamie had always enjoyed it a bit too much to truly think about all the shit he's saying when he's winding Gary up.

"My - what?" Gary looks like someone's struck him. "My honour? What the fuck're you talkin' 'bout?"

Jamie says nothing. He's got nothing to say, or at least nothing that won't break something between him and Gary. It's all wrong these days, with Gary staring for United and Jamie on his way to be starting for Liverpool. There's a difference, a distance there ever since he switched from blue to red. It's not something they've ever talked about but... Jamie remembers. He remembers kids in red jerseys surrounding Gary, big kids, bigger than Gary was back then and much bigger than Jamie. He remembers the taunts and the words that his Ma told him never to repeat if he doesn't want her to wash his mouth out with soap. He remembers Gary's look when Jamie kicked the ball back to him on the playground, and how his frown disappeared when he saw his blue jersey when Jamie was eleven. He remembers the frown deepening when Jamie came to their playground in a red jersey for the first time.

"James," Gary says, and both his voice and his eyes are serious. "What did they say?"

Jamie clenches his fists. "Nothing, Gaz. Leave it alone, I didn't mean to say it, just ignore me."

Gary is still looking at him, and Jamie hates how fucking beautiful Gary's eyes are. Hates how much he likes when Gary smiles, lines appearing around them when he laughs at Jamie's stupid jokes. Hates how fragile Gary looks in the bad bathroom lights, like Jamie could break him with one word. Hates how much he wants to feel how that stupid barely-there moustache would feel against his skin. Hates how he knows they don't have that much time anymore, to fuck around with the ball every summer like they've been doing so far. Hates that he knows a darby is inevitable. Hates how he can recognize Gary's smell, even over the alcohol and the blood. Hates how much he just - wants.

Gary furrows his brows, then seems to decide on something. He lets the dirty towel fall on the floor as he steps closer between Jamie's legs, and the movement startles Jamie so much he grabs for Gary's waist with both hands this time. He swallows, grasping onto the white shirt, his breathing a lot heavier.

Gary's hand is shaking when he brings it down to trace the bruise on Jamie's cheek he can feel forming. "Jamie," Gary says, and it isn't fair, how much that one word affects him. "Jamie, were you defending me? Is that why you got hurt?"

Jamie swallows around his dry throat again. His whole body is hurting. His whole body feels like he's on fire. He can feel Gary's heat over the material of the shirt, where his fingers press down.

"I'm no prince charming," he says, stupidly, nonsensically. Gary smiles, and Jamie's startled to realise he hasn't seen that kind of smile on Gary in a while.

"No, you aren't," Gary says. His other hand rests on Jamie's shoulder. "But you're pretty charming, all ruggedly handsome, you."

Jamie tears his eyes away from Gary's lips to look into his eyes. It feels too hot in the little bathroom. Gary's fingers splay across Jamie's neck. It feels like the whole world is pausing. Jamie feels like he can't breathe. He tightens his hold on Gary's waist, maybe pulls him closer. He doesn't really know. None of this makes sense.

Turns out, he can breathe.

He takes the next breath right from Gary's lips, soft and hesitant and hotter than anything he's ever felt before. The angle is awkward but he realises he can hug Gary close and -

"- for fuck's sake Jamie, I can taste blood, I busted your lip, sorry -"

"Nah," Jamie grins, opening his eyes. "Fuck it. Bust it again," he says, and pulls Gary in.

#sooooooo #no idea what this is. i hope you enjoy it #carraville #football rpf #my writing #effervescentdragonwrites #i just think theyre both dumbasses #and should kiss abt it. so they do #this is all i did today #tell me what you think pls? 🥺