#only one bed trope
Helnik + the bed sharing trope.
737 notes · View notes
No more bed
Word count: 2113
Genre: Not actually sure :3
Warnings: Swearing, kissing?
A/N that's the end of the only one bed trope. Technically requests are now closed but if you think of another overused trope you want me to write then feel free to send it in!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
You didn't eat that night and went straight to bed when you got too tired to focus on the words. You had made sure the pillow wall was twice the size it was to begin with. You turned off your light when you heard Natasha's footsteps come to the door, turning your back to her and pretending to be asleep. Your breaths were deep and completely even, there was no way Natasha could have guessed you were still awake. You felt her hesitate over you and the smell of reheated food invaded your nose and then heard her walk away.
The words she said back in that forest shouldn't have hurt you as much but they did. You shouldn't care what she thinks. It doesn't matter that she doesn't believe in your skills as an agent, that she doesn't think you're pretty enough to grab someone's attention.
If Natasha thought the bickering and coolness was bad at the start of the week, she was in for a shock. When she finally came back to that tiny, godforsaken bed and did her usual trick of sliding her foot over the pillow wall, you got up, took a pillow and the spare blanket and went to sleep on the rug in the living room.
When morning rolled around, you couldn't even be bothered to talk to her, focusing much more on the task ahead, just wanting this week to be over. It wasn't even the hurt you were feeling, it was the frustration that you felt hurt that drove you to stop talking to her. You hated her. She was annoying. She had no respect for anything anyone does.
You spent most the day preparing for the party that evening. Sure, it shouldn't take you over half a day to get ready but you had finished your paperwork early and you wanted to try on every single dress and suit SHIELD had supplied you with. You ended up choosing a navy blue, off the shoulder ball gown. Thinking logistically, it was quite possibly one of the worst things you could have worn. A pantsuit would have been a much more suitable choice and yet you looked and - more importantly - felt hot in the dress.
"You're not seriously wearing that are you?" Natasha asked as we both began to change into our formal wear. She had let you splurge out on a taxi but only after you had to walk what felt like 500 miles so no one would know where you were staying.
"Why not?" You asked with a fakeness in your voice "It's a no contact mission, plus, no one would look at me anyway, right?"
"Y/n, that's not what I-"
"Oh look. We're here." You get out the cab before Natasha can finish what she's saying.
Ivan might be an evil person, but he sure does know how to throw a party. It was elegant and high class and he made his way over to you as soon as he saw you. You had both agreed that you would keep him distracted while Natasha grabbed the relevant information.
"Dorogaya, u tebya poluchilos!" (Darling, you made it!) Ivan opened his arms wide, grabbed you by the shoulders and placed a kiss on both of your cheeks.
"Konechno, kak ya mog ignorirovat' takuyu zagadku?" (Of course, how could I ignore something so mysterious?) You laughed and he moved his arm to around your waist.
"Prikhodite, prikhodite, yest' lyudi, kotorykh vy dolzhny vstretit'" (Come, come, there are people you should meet)
Ivan spent most the night introducing you to different 'modelling' agencies. You knew what he was doing, he was showing you off to potential buyers. Ivan ran a human trafficking ring along with some other not so nice business. You weren't worried - not in the slightest. Although, as the night drew on and Natasha still hadn't said anything, you were getting a little more... concerned.
You managed to excuse yourself to the bathroom. Once inside, you tapped the earpiece repeatedly, praying Natasha would answer you.
"Romanoff where are you? Have you got the data?"
"Seriously, I'm sorry I've been ignoring you but this is childish now."
"I'll let you have the bed?"
Static rang out in your ear.
Of course SHIELD gave you a crappy ear piece. It was ridiculous. They provided you with three million dresses but couldn't give you a working piece of tech.
Just as you pulled out the burner phone, you felt a needle slide into your neck and the world went black.
"Y/n I have the data."
Nothing. Maybe you were still mad at her.
"Y/n do you copy?"
Natasha's heart beat a little faster.
"Come on Y/n. I'm sorry. I'll let you have the bed?" Her burner phone pinged. It was your location. Shit.
You woke up and looked around, seeing that you were in the rundown hideout, you put your head back on the pillow. Everything felt heavy.
"You were drugged." Natasha states, standing in the corner of the room, her arms crossed and eyes never leaving you.
"Oh." It was all you could muster up the energy to say.
"We leave tomorrow morning."
You push yourself up into a sitting position. "How long was I out?"
You looked at Natasha, really looked at her. "Then why are you still covered in blood?"
Everything of Natasha's had some kind of bloodstain. She hadn't even washed her hands. It may have been dark in the corner she was standing in, having only the side lamp to illuminate the room, but her skin seemingly glowed, making the blood stand out.
She turned around and left, heading towards the bathroom. You wanted to get up to follow her but while your mouth worked again, your legs did not. Apparently whatever they used on you was a lot stronger than you thought because you fell out of the bed. Again. Natasha rushed out, getting to you in an instant, except this time there were no sly remarks.
"Careful princess, people might think you care." You grin, only for it to drop immediately when you saw a slight wetness to the corners of her eyes. "Hey, it's okay." You said softly. If she wasn't as close to you, Natasha would have missed it.
"I didn't know where you were. I-I thought you had gone off to try and prove something and then I saw you lying there, in some basement Ivan had. You-you looked so... dead."
"But I'm not." you reached up and gingerly stroked her hair, not wanting to spook her. "And look!" You gestured to your toes that were wiggling "I can feel my legs again!"
Natasha let out a slightly wet laugh. "I'm really sorry."
"For what? These things happen all the time. Although I will say, you seem to be unlucky because my missions always go wrong with you." You nudged her shoulder, crossing your legs so you faced her, both of you still on the floor.
"For making you think you weren't attractive. For basically drugging you myself."
"Don't be ridiculous Natasha. You didn't drug me."
"I might as well have done! If I had just agreed with you instead of fighting you, then you wouldn't have felt like you had to prove anything."
"You think I'm attractive?"
"Seriously? That's what we're choosing to focus on now."
"Umm yes? I know it wasn't your fault at all but now I want to hear about how attractive I am." You smirked and Natasha stood up abruptly.
"I'm having a shower."
"Is that a nice cold shower for you to try to get over me?" You shouted as she slammed the door shut.
Natasha came out of the shower half an hour later, towel drying her hair.
"I think you're attractive too." You whispered out, half hoping Natasha wouldn't hear it.
She stilled. Looking at you, trying to see if you were lying.
"Then why do you hate me?"
"I don't think I do. Not anymore."
Natasha stayed silent, encouraging you to continue.
"I didn't like the avengers in general. You guys all act like you're so much better than us. You get all the perks of looking good and none of the paperwork. You don't know the amount of times I've seen top level agents filling out avenger paperwork when they should be out in the field. I thought you were all lazy but spending this week with you... well it made me realise that maybe you're not all that bad."
Natasha had moved herself to the bed, just watching you speak. You looked over to her, signalling that you had finished all that you wanted to say.
"I'm sorry I ever made you doubt yourself. I'll talk to the team about actually doing their paperwork. Who's the worst?" She asked, curiosity laced in her tone
Natasha let out a full blown laugh at that. "Wait seriously?"
"Yup. I see him all the time, constantly trying to offload his paperwork to someone else. I always thought it would be Tony but it's definitely Steve, then Bruce. Then it's probably Tony."
"I promise I'll try to make them stop."
"I wouldn't make promises you can't keep." You laughed.
"Why...why did you doubt me?" You asked, a little more serious than before.
"It's not that I doubted you... I guess I just didn't like the way you spoke to Ivan..."
"You mean the flirting?"
You sat in silence for a bit, you couldn't figure out why. It's not like it was against any rules and it all worked in your favour. Then, it clicked.
"Natasha Romanoff were you jealous!" You let out a slight gasp and grinned at her.
"No. No of course not." Natasha got defensive. There was no way she was jealous of that old, wrinkly, nasty smelling man.
"Aww princess!" You adjusted yourself so you were completely facing her. "I can flirt with you too if you want." Your voice got slightly lower and your eyelids dropped a fraction, making your pupils seem bigger. While you raised your voice a few octaves for Ivan, you knew that to seduce a woman you had to lower it a little.
"Stop it." Natasha hit you.
"But why baby?" You grabbed her chin and tilted her face towards you. "Now you don't have to be jealous." You sent her a wink and let her chin go, watching as her eyes got a little darker.
"Go away. I want nothing to do with you or your terrible flirting."
"You say my flirting is terrible" Your voice now back to normal, "But your body is saying something different."
"Wrong. My body is saying nothing."
"Okay then! Night night princess." You leant over to switch off the light when Natasha grabbed your arm, causing you to look back over to her.
"Calling me princess... it - ugh... well it -" Natasha looked conflicted before glancing up to you, looking at your lips and kissing you.
You were shocked. You knew you shouldn't have been. All the signs were there and you were a very good flirt but actually feeling her lips on yours made your brain short-circuit. You kissed her back and climbed into her lap.
"We're not doing it here." You said when you both broke the kiss
"Why not?" Natasha looked at you, her hands running all over you.
"Because I'm 90% sure there are rats and I really don't want to catch something"
Natasha laughed and kissed you a little more. "Fair enough. We should stop this now then."
You kissed her neck. "Yes. We should definitely stop now."
Just before you were due to leave, you called Natasha into the bedroom.
"Y/n, we have to go."
"I know I know but watch." You bounced excitedly as you threw a match at the bed.
"Y/n what the hell!?"
"Well, if you remember correctly, I said that if you crossed the pillow divide, I would burn the bed with you in it. As you can see, I'm generously leaving you out of the bed. You're welcome."
Natasha just looked at you. "I can't believe I like you."
"Aww you like me? That's kind of embarrassing for you." You laughed as you linked arms with her, walking to the jet, but not before Natasha convinced you to put out the fire on the bed.
You watched as the fire fizzled out and silently thanked that damn bed for bringing you and Natasha closer. Literally. It didn't mean you weren't going to have a long chat with Fury about proper size beds though.
277 notes · View notes
You and the general having to share one bed in this pub and oh what happens hmm? 👀
*slams hands on the table* and there was oNLY ONE BED!
Warnings: none, just heavy pining
Word count: 1856
Part of you was in hysterics about the situation, wanted to laugh about it until you could barely breathe while the other part of you was absolutely terrified.
Out of all the people to land in a scene that could have been straight out of a romance novel, it was you and the infamous Ravkan general.
Your heart was probably beating loud enough that every heartrender in the nearby perimiter could hear it as you dropped your traveling bag a little louder than you wanted to, drawing his attention, which up until that point you had managed to keep from yourself for the most part, save for the moment at the bar where you’d found out there were not enough rooms to house all six of you comfortably.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, but everytime he looked at you, you felt like every nerve ending had suddenly been set on fire and you muttered a quick apology before plucking your night shifts out of your bag and moved to the small but closed off washing area.
At least here you couldn’t feel his heavy gaze as you slowly relaxed and stripped out of your day wear and put the comfortable fabric over your limbs. It wasn’t fashionable in any way, but it kept you warm during the night.
Behind the curtain you could hear him shuffling around and the dry sigh of the fabric from his Kefta told you he was changing as well, and you decided to wait a little until the commotion died down enough for you to be confident that he was done, not accidentally wanting to see him naked and poked your head around the curtain to see if your suspicions were correct.
What you were not expecting to see was the fact that he had forgone the need for a shirt and had his back turned to you as he looked out of the window, which you were glad about as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks and quickly retreated behind the curtain again.
Your heart was certainly loud enough now that Ivan and Fedyor, the two heartrenders in your company, could almost definitely hear it and you wouldn’t put it above Ivan to come in and complain that you needed to keep your heart beat down so he could sleep.
Sunken away in your thoughts, you opened the tap above the small sink and let the water run as you splashed your face with it. The cold water felt nice against your heated skin and slowly, you could feel your heart come back to its normal pace.
Eyes now heavy with sleep, you turned off the tap and yawned as you pushed the curtain aside to get comfortable somewhere, completely forgetting the fact that you had seen the general half naked just a few minutes ago, but as you looked around the room, he was nowhere to be found.
Deciding it would be rude to take the only bed in the room, you plucked the few cushions from the two seats in the room and made yourself as comfortable as possible and hoped you would be asleep before he came back, saving you the discussion over who would take the floor that night.
You weren’t sure how late it was when you woke up.
The silvery slivers that came through the blinds told you it was still night, but you wouldn’t be able to tell the time even if your life depended on it.
The warmth around you slowly settled in your reality as your mind became more aware of its surroundings, little by little.
First came the pleasant weight of a blanket and the softness of the fabric, then the weight of something else draped over your middle. It was heavy, but not unpleasantly. There was a heavy, steady breath near the nape of your neck and when you moved a little, trying to take in more of your surroundings, you could feel the soft tickling of a beard on your shoulder.
Whether the realisation had hit you as slow as you had woken up or faster than a manipulated wind current from a Squaller, you didn’t know, but once the knowledge had set in, your mind began to race. Like it always did when you were near him.
Why he had disappeared before you went to sleep or how you had ended up next to him in the small bed the room possessed, you had no idea, though you could only guess that he had seen you asleep in the corner and had taken you to bed with him, for a reason only the Saints could ever reveal to you.
Breathing in deeply, you tried to calm your mind. There were still a good few hours left before the sun would come up and you’d have to leave, but there seemed no calming it, no matter how much you focussed on your breath.
Shifting a little under the heavy weight that laid over your waist, you managed to find a position that was more comfortable to be awake in as your eyes moved around the room, scanning the dark silhouttes that clung to the floor and walls.
You tensed involutarily at the sound of his voice behind you as you tried to figure out what had woken him. You were fairly certain you had been as quiet and still as you could, save for the small change in your position just now, unless he had been awake before you’d woken up.
Was more before I knew you were awake, you thought to yourself as the familiar burn began to settle over your body, even more noticable now in the places where your bodies touched each other, and you thought you might burn a hole into the bed right there and accidentally set the establishment on fire.
You shifted again, but this time he lifted his arm to give you more room to move. If he had been awake before you first moved your position, he had done a terrific job at keeping you in the dark about it.
“Yeah, comfortable,” you said as you let out a breath that sagged your whole body, leaning completely against him as you let your head sink back into the cushion it had been laying on, but you doubted you would be falling back into sleep any time soon.
Words were weighing heavily on your tongue, though you could not give them shape as you became acutely aware of the silence in the room. A silence that was comfortable, but you didn’t want it to be there. You wanted to talk. To hear the voice of the man behind you.
You wanted to talk to him, but you didn’t know where to start.
Your breath was slow but steady as you stared at what you assumed was the curtain to the washing area and you pondered over the things you wanted to say.
One part of you wanted to make simple small talk, hear each others voices until one of you fell asleep first, the other wanted to cut to the chase. To confess your feelings for him right here in this moment of clear vunerability and as you debated and weighed your options, the urge to turn to your other side began to rise as well when you felt the shoulder you were laying on get uncomfortable.
It was already a miracle in and of itself that he had managed to get you both into the small bed and you were convinced that if you tried going flat on your back that you would accidentally push him off, which left completely turning around as your only option. Besides of course continueing the discomfort in your shoulder, but your decision was quickly made as the discomfort began to turn into pain and wordlessly you turned around in his arms and settled into the matrass again.
When your nose brushed against the naked skin of his shoulder, you could swear everything in the world had stopped. From your heart to your thoughts to the passage of time itself.
The bastard was still half naked.
As you regained your ability to breathe, your thoughts slowly came back to you, racing through your head though they all seemed to consist of a single word.
You didn’t know where to keep your hands as your thoughts raced on, but it seemed best to keep them where they were, on your own chest while the burning feeling in your body seemed to reach its high.
“Something on your mind?” he asked, and you swore you could hear a smile in his words.
You, you thought. You have been the only thing on my damn mind since I woke up and if you say one more word I am probably going to combust. But despite that thought, you answered him anyway.
“Everything… and nothing at the same time.”
He hummed at your response, though you could not find any judgement and a question passed your lips.
“Anything on yours?”
“Not in particular.”
He trailed his fingers up and down along the length of your spine and for some Saintforsaken reason, the feeling helped you relax.
Silence fell over the room once again and again, you wanted to lift it. Hear his voice and hear your own talking to his.
His ministrations moved from your spine over your shoulder, to your arm, drawing patterns that seemed senseless to you, but you enjoyed the feeling and it compelled you to put at least one hand on him as well, though you didn’t exactly know why.
The feel of his skin under your fingertips sent a strange sensation through your body, one that cooled the burning heat you had felt from his touch and kept it to a pleasant, fuzzy warmth and your fingers began, without thinking, mimicking the movements of the ones that were trailing your arm and soon enough, you could feel your mind drift back towards the realm of sleep.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you murmured, not awake enough to think of the repercussions your words could have, memorising the feel of his skin.
“Too bad the night will disappear…” you heard him reply above you and you smiled.
“Yeah, too bad…”
You memorised his skin for long moments after that, hoping to remember every little detail, every little bump or dip you could feel until your fingers lost their path from how close you were to falling back into dreams and you moved a little closer to him, hoping you would wake up like this, that none of it had been a dream.
You could hear words coming from your mouth, but you didn’t know what they meant as your mind began to drift back into sleep once more and your head dipped forward to lay against his chest, inhaling his scent and you could swear you heard an answer from him, but you were gone before you could figure them out, surely dreaming of the press of his lips on the crown of your head.
120 notes · View notes
it’s a good night to write Crosshair fluff
do I smell a ‘only one bed trope’ 👀
39 notes · View notes
Part of my #500Secrets Celebration
By far the most requested! Hotchniss + Only One Bed
It came down in the end to practicality. JJ was weaning Henry, meaning she still needed to get up during the night to pump, so she was afforded a room to herself for privacy. Morgan had nested on the floor of Penelope’s room, looking like Burt Reynolds curled in front a fire with thick heavy blankets and no shirt.
Reid and Dave slept like the dead, Dave snoring loud enough to wake the non-living, Reid with headphones playing Carl Sagan in a soothing loop. That left Aaron and Emily to share the remaining room.
“Well…” Aaron said as he followed Emily into the cosy room at the end of the hall. Everything seemed to be quilted, exposed brick and high bream ceilings in the room gave the flickering fire in the corner a cottagey feeling. Emily’s eyes were locked firmly on the bed nestled in the middle, huge and squashy with patchwork, clearly handmade blankets draped across it, on any other backdrop it would have looked like heaven.
“Can I borrow some pants?” Emily said, turning suddenly as she met his slightly shocked face.
“I… what?” He said, almost losing his grip on his go bag as he watched Emily walk across the room, seemingly unconcerned with their sleeping arrangements.
“Pants. Can I borrow some? I thought we’d be sharing a room, not a bed.” She said, looking at him expectantly as she pulled toiletries from her bag, neat little coloured bottles arranged in their own zippered pockets.
“Uh… sure” He said, following her lead and trying to seem nonchalant.
“Thanks. Do you want to shower first?”
“You go, I’m going to look over the files” he said.
“Ok” Emily said, looking at him expectantly as she held a shirt and her bag beneath her arm.
Aaron rifled through his bag, pulling out a pair of grey sweats and handing them to her.
“They might be a little big” He said.
“I’ll make it work. Thank you” She said, retreating to the bathroom off to the side.
It was warm in the room, the fire giving everything an ochre glow, dancing pleasantly in the corner of his vision. As he pulled files from his briefcase and loosened his tie, he allowed himself a brief moment to lament that at any other time, this place would be serene, peaceful and homey, a place you felt safe and warm. Instead the residents were plagued with terror, the early evening darkness sinister outside the window as a light dusting of snow began to fall.
He was only distracted by the scent. Something like honey, mint and cinnamon began to waft under the door, accompanied with the finest curls of steam and the sound of running water. It was light, only hinting at them, but enough to make his muscles relax as he heard an indistinguishable melody being hummed as the water shut off.
Emily emerged dressed with still wet hair. Though she had tied the drawstring as tight as possible the pants were still in danger of falling off her hips as she half ignored him to comb her hair, pulling her own files from her bag in the process as she continued to hum a tune under her breath. He didn’t realise until he was halfway through his own shower it was the theme to The Brady Bunch.
He had hung up his suit in the hardwood closet before she spoke, sitting cross legged in front of the fire with files spread out in front of her, gently coaxing her bangs into place absently as she did so.
“What time is it?” She said without looking up.
“Nine” He said, adopting her casual tone as he tried to ignore the single bed they would be sharing. Something about it felt dangerous. The casual intimacy of it, sleeping next to another human being was not something he had experienced since before the end of his marriage, and realising he would be doing so with no prior warning made pulse thump through his veins. It didn’t help that he had found himself distracted by the bow of her lips. Just twice in recent weeks, but enough to spark something.
“Ok, well I’m going to turn in. Looking over this, it might be the only good night of sleep we get here” She said, scooping the files into a pile as she stretched. He deliberately looked away from the flash of skin at her lower back.
“Emily…. You’re okay with this?”
“Alaska? It’s freezing, but its fine. Why?”
“No… the bed part”
She laughed, the smile split wide on her face as she looked at him.
“Sure. We’re sleeping together… not sleeping together. I’ve bunked with JJ before, and Morgan and I shared when we did that custodial in Pennsylvania. Are you okay with this?” Her face turned soft, realisation behind her eyebrows as she tilted her head.
He nodded, switching off the light in the room in demonstration, throwing the room into semi-golden darkness as he gestured to the bed. Emily nodded, climbing beneath heavy blankets as she turned onto soft pillows.
They lay awake in the silence and semi darkness, both of them naturally turning away from the other as the fire began to die down, the snow building on the windowsill as the shadows grew to overtake the room.
Aaron was trying to place her scent. It was subtle in the daytime, something clean and vaguely floral that he never took much notice of. But fresh from the shower it tugged at threads in his mind. Picked at the frayed edges of memory that made him feel nostalgic for the remembrance of something he couldn’t place. It niggled at him, made it hard to calm his mind enough to sleep. A tinkling bell in his consciousness he couldn’t ignore, a puzzle with a missing piece.
Sweet Tea. His mothers sweet tea, with rich dark honey and mint leaves in the middle of summer, sweating ice and full of citrus fruit. He’d tried to make it twice, and both times it had come out sickly sweet or sour. He looked through her belongings for the recipe at least once every few years. Sean usually tried to make it around the holidays. Always close but not quite. But Emily, inches away in the navy darkness smelt just like the end of a summer day, Virginian accent curled around whispered words of affection as she ushered them inside. His eyes grew heavy with the unexpected memory, and he found sleep came easy to him.
He woke with the rustle of sheets. It was dark in the room now, the soft embers of the fire giving off a faint red glow as he heard, and then felt, Emily shift behind him again.
“Ok?” he managed to ask, his throat tight with sleep.
“Sorry” she whispered. “uncomfortable”
Aaron thought she was insane. This bed was some magical combination of marshmallow and a firm hug, the blankets heavy enough to press him into the mattress.
“Cold?” He could hear the gravel in his voice as he turned, watching the shift as Emily twisted her legs.
“No. Sorry, go back to sleep” She said, stilling with a guilty lilt in her voice.
“M’fine, are you alright?” He propped himself up on his elbow, his thoughts turning to nightmares that plagued each member of the team from time to time, the twisted thoughts that sometimes invaded private subconscious spaces.
“It’s stupid” She said, squeezing her eyes shut.
“What is it?” Aaron asked, fully alert now as a hint of nerves crept into his consciousness.
“I’m not used to… sleeping with clothes on” She said.
Aaron laughed, turning his face into the pillow he felt the nerves leak from him with a soft chuckle.
“Usually if I’m sharing a room with someone I can get away with no pants but we’re sharing a bed and oh god it sounds like I’m coming on to you” Emily said, joining in with the laughter until they were both muffling it into soft quilts at the absurdity of it.
“Wouldn’t be the first time” Aaron said quietly as they calmed.
“What do you mean?” Emily said.
“You’ve come on to me before” He said with a smirk.
“I have not!” She said, clapping a hand over her mouth at the loudness of her denial.
“You don’t remember? It was about a month after my divorce, drinks at O’Malley’s…”
“Oh. God” Emily said, stifling a groan into a pillow “Yes, I do remember that. Did I ever apologise?”
“No. But there’s no need. I must say you have some… creative pick up lines” he said, smiling at the memory, the spark dim in his gut. “Get comfortable. We need sleep and I won’t if you’re tossing and turning all night”
“Thank you” Emily breathed, immediately wriggling in the bed until he heard the soft thump of clothing somewhere on the floor.
“Hotch?” She asked quietly, unsure if he had fallen back asleep.
“Mmm?” he replied, comfortable and warm between the sheets.
“Why’d you say no?” her voice was a whisper. Quiet enough to ignore if he wanted to, pretend he hadn’t heard her in the dark. The spark was brighter now.
“Aside from the fact that you were incredibly drunk?”
“Too soon” he said, honestly.
Time seemed to come to a stop in the middle of the night. Snow inching halfway up the window of the room, barricading them from the outside world in a soft white cloud. It felt like a choice, like the edge of a cliff to admit it, losing balance rapidly as he caught a hint of something so uniquely Emily on the scent of the air.
“And now?” she breathed
It wasn’t a perfect kiss. Too dark to see properly and both of them moving too fast, the click of teeth and noses as her hands found his shirt to twist in, his arms found her waist. She was warm. Her skin glowed like the dying fire beneath the blankets as they found each others features in the dark, stopping only long enough to catch breath, sink into it like a cloud.
His hands were under her shirt before he realised, seeking to draw the warmth of her inside himself as he felt her leg hitch over his waist, tasted the smallest whimper on her tongue.
“Are you sure?” he asked, forcing himself to stop, let his eyes adjust to her features, the long lashes and rounded cheeks, the sharp blade of her jaw, the dip of her cupids bow.
“Yes” she said, firm and honest as she let her hand trace his nose, her fingers on his lips as he kissed the tips of them “Are you?”
His hand curling on her bare thigh was enough of a response. She tasted like heaven, mint and something sweet, like sugared candy on his tongue as he licked her jaw, encouraged her to tilt her head back until he could suck lightly on her pulse.
“How thick do you think these walls are?” she asked, breathless as Aaron rucked her shirt higher, allowed his thumb to trace the underside of her breast.
“Can you hear Dave snoring?” He asked, not wanting to move his mouth from the join of her neck, the feeling of her skin like silk under his lips.
“No” she said, arching slightly into him at the graze of his teeth.
“Then I’d say pretty thick” He grinned.
His shirt joined her shirt somewhere in the room, and he pressed his thigh between her legs to feel her rock against him, the heat of her scorching as he tasted the first of her moans.
“You’re so soft, how are you so fucking soft” he asked, running his hands across the curve of her hip as he kissed her, feeling the swell of her bottom lip between his teeth as Emily wrapped both legs around his waist, bucked her hips into him until he felt her, scorching hot and damp beneath her underwear, pressed against his.
He felt frenzied. The heat of her skin had turned his blood to boiling, her hands in his hair as she reacted to him, urged him onwards with each sweet whimper, press of her skin against his, teeth on his jaw and nails across his shoulder. She smiled when he ripped her underwear, he could feel it on his teeth as she pushed his underwear down, just enough to feel her, soaking wet against his cock slapping her skin.
He went slow, wrapping his arm around her lower back to angle her hips towards him. She was so tight, a velvet vice that made his head swim as he inched his way inside her, nudged her open and forced himself to ignore the tingling in his spine, hoping it wouldn’t be over before it really started.
“Aaron…” She moaned his name and he bit his lip so hard it almost bled. He closed his eyes as he pressed fully into her, murmuring against her lips as he held still and tried to catch his breath. They fit. He was trying to think of anything other than the way she was keening sweetly beneath him, the way she found his hand to squeeze and his lip to bite as he felt each clench of her around his length.
“Why haven’t we been doing this the whole time?” She asked, breathless as he felt her roll her hips, grind herself onto him, pinned by his hips.
“I haven’t done anything yet” he answered, smiling as she laughed.
“But you will, god… Aaron you feel so fucking good. So full”
He kissed her to shut her up. The churning roll of his stomach at her voice was dangerous, and the first pull of his hips, the first devastating aching thrust coated with her was enough to almost make him lose it.
“Fuck me” she breathed.
He’d make it up to her, that was all he thought as he curled his hand around her thigh to drive deeper into her. Every day if she wanted it, every hour if he could manage. Knowing he was going to lose it with each thrust against her, searching for the spot he knew would make her twist, make those sinful noises fall from those perfect lips he fucked into her, hard enough to hear the liquid slap of their skin together, feel her tighten her grip on his hand as she said his name and his mind went blank.
She came apart under him and he was lost. The rush of heat between her thighs, the vice grip she had on him as she panted his name, searched for his mouth to taste his tongue and he couldn’t stop it. He fucked her through it, his vision blacking at the edges as he half snarled her name, crushed her underneath his weight as he pulled her closer, breathed her in and fell into the abyss.
It was madness, base and feral and he knew it, feeling himself soften and slip from between her thighs, running his hands across skin slick with sweat as he licked her collarbone, felt her heart beat through his own chest. But he wanted to taste her, taste everything, consume her in the way he felt consumed by her.
“What are you doing?” She asked, curious and sated as he settled himself between her thighs, spreading her open with his fingers so he could see her, swollen and leaking in the weak light of the almost dead fire.
“Cleaning you up” he said, running his tongue lightly through their combined spend as her hands flew to his hair, her back curving like a bow as she cursed, louder than she meant to.
He was ruined. He knew it. The syrup sweet taste of her, bursting across his tongue as her nails scratched his scalp. Licking softly through her folds he knew he would never stop thinking about her, knew she would live forever in his mind now as the closest thing he’d come to pure happiness. There was desperation in his actions, to feel her quiver on his mouth and hope he would get the chance to do it again, that the smoky moan of his name would not fade to a distant memory – but become a fixture, something he could anchor to, the feeling of this inexplicably perfect woman coming on his face.
When she twisted away from overstimulation he planted soft kisses on her thighs until he felt over indulgent, trailing his lips up her stomach to collapse next to her, waiting for the fallout, the turn in atmosphere from hedonism to awkwardness, not knowing what to say and sure to err.
Emily kissed him, pulling him to her with strength he sometimes forgot she had, tasting herself on his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was she that pulled blankets over them both, manoeuvred into his embrace as she encouraged him to curl around her back, his lips on the join of her shoulder, a place he now knew he liked the taste of best.
“We need to sleep” she said as Aaron moved his arms to encircle her properly, slowly as if at any moment she would tell him to stop. “But Aaron?”
“Yes?” he said, finding his voice.
“We’re doing that again”
He laughed into her hair, relief like a soothing balm as she kissed the tips of his fingers.
They managed an hour before they were awoken by the horror they had ignored. When he saw Emily throw his sweater on without a second thought, there was a spark inside his chest. When she threw him a knowing smile and a wink later in the day, the flames ignited so furiously he was sure she was going to burn him alive.
He figured there were worse ways to go.
115 notes · View notes
One (1) dinluke AU with famous Popstar!Luke who’s tired of the spotlight and everything that fame brings and is hiding out in a small town out in the wop wops to record his new studio album and think about what he’s going to do with his life
He runs into hot!dad Din and his son Grogu at the local supermarket. Luke’s wearing his hood pulled up, sunglasses and a mask; Din immediately is suspicious of the stranger in his town until it’s pretty damn clear Luke’s a little blond ball of sunshine who loves kids
Of course, the town is fucking small, so Din sees Luke *everywhere*. It’s only normal that they strike up some kind of friendship- nope, *acquaintance* since Grogu likes the guy so much (yes it’s definitely because your son likes the pretty blond twink Din, no other reason that you’d want to see him around no sir)
And then one day the paparazzi find where Luke is staying and Luke hightails it out of there because fuck that
And the first place he can think of is Din’s little secluded wooden cabin
And it starts to snow
And Din and Luke and Grogu are stuck in a little cozy cabin while a snow storm rages outside
I wonder what could happen
(hinT: THERES ONLY ONE BED)
105 notes · View notes
I don't think it classifies as an au but what about the "oh no! there's only one bed" trope?
OO. yes i like that trope, let’s do it
• they were on a school trip. going off to a remote cabin hotel during the winter.
• jon and Damian paired up, because Damian didn’t like any1 else there, and jon enjoyed the time with damian
• they barely got to hang out anymore due to school starting up
• so this was their chance
• but their room screwed up and there’s only 1 bed. a queen bed, but still
• and there were no other rooms to exchange with
• so now they were just awkwardly sitting on the bed
“It’s a big bed, we won’t have to touch anyways. It’ll be all good!”
“You sleep cuddle, I have watched it happen.”
• and to make matters worse, jon really was a sleep cuddled AND was big. He practically dwarfed Damian sometimes.
• he has laid across damians lap when he was being dramatic, and he’s heavy as fuck. he was tall, and had nice shoulders. that had gotten really nicely as he grew up.
• now is not the time to talk about jons shoulders though..
“C’mon D, where else where you sleep?”
“Ugh no. I’ll take the floor.”
“Why can’t we just share?”
“Because.” Because Damian is awkward.
“You’re dramatic.” Damian is very dramatic.
• after they got changed into ski wear to go skiing at the snowy slopes, they went out and had a great day. jon got him a bagel. Damian likes bagels
• but after that day, he was tired. and cold. jon loves it though, but he didn’t stay around damian the whole time since damian went off and did other things
• they had sled dogs. Damian wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, he heard some sad stories of what they did to sled dogs. He made it a note in his mind to go dig deep into this company to make sure the animals were not abused
• but they also had a dog who was in the medical area. the dog looked happy, damian had gone to the area to get away, he found an older woman with a sweet smile
“Hi, Honey.” Her voice was nice, calming even.
“It seems like Sugarcane likes you.”
“You’re welcome to stay in here with her, I can see you are tense and anxious.” How did she know? Not like his shoulders were tense or he was just fidgeting around or anything.
“Is she.. a service dog?”
“Yes actually, she was trained to become a service dog in order to help patients here, we know some kids get anxious or hurt during these trips so we got her certified in order for her to help them.”
“She works well. I have one at home. A emotional support dog.”
• damian had a long conversation with her. She reminded him of Alred and Ma Kent
• he bid the woman, Miss Falls a farewell before he went to the mess hall for dinner. Jon saved him a seat. Because of course, but he was with his friends. Damian felt awkward
• jons friends were. active, you know? they weren’t bad or anything ( except like 2 of them ), but they were loud and sociable.
• but Damian sat down because he didn’t want to say no to jons puppy dog eyes
“Where’d you go? I didn’t see you a lot today.”
“I was at the nurse area.”
“Why? Did you get hurt? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, J.”
“Eat your food and quit bugging me.”
• jon didn’t try to bother him for the rest of the meal, only sending concerned looks.. because.. because it’s jon. of course he would
• damian wasn’t very hungry. he didn’t like being far from home. this was too far. this might have been one of the roots of his anxiety he felt. he was forced to go to this lame thing
• but damian just held a stoic face as he lazily poked at his food and ate a bit of it for an appropriate time
“Want the rest?” Dami normally gave jon the rest of his food
“You barely ate..”
“Home sickness, want it or not?”
“Yeah okay.” Jon looked at Damian, basically saying they will talk about feelings later. Gross.
But before damian could leave, jon kissed his head. What the fuck
• damian may or may not have used all the hot water, but jon didn’t say a thing, because it’s Jon and he’s a sweetheart
“You’ll be cold sleeping down there.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You run cold, D.”
• damian, stubbornly shook his head and laid on the floor.
• but in the middle of the night, ended up going onto the bed and cuddled into jon. Oh the irony. Jon was asleep on his back, damian had a arm thrown over him with his head on his chest
• guess damian was the cuddled all along
• but jon was warm, it was nice
• damian slept without a nightmare. that was nice
“D? Wakey wakey. We gotta eat.”
“Mmmm.. not.. hungry, sleep- I’m sleeping”
“You gotta eat, and you gotta come down”
• damian did hiss. but he got up, did all the things he needed to do ( brush teeth, changed, etc ) and went down with Jon for breakfast
“You know, you cuddled me”
“Shut your mouth before you lose it.”
“It was nice, do it again”
• he did it again that night
• on the third day, they had to stay in due to the fact it was too cold and there was a blizzard
• which was fine. Damian mainly stayed in the room before jon dragged him out to go play cards
• damian, won. surprising jons dumb friends, but not dumb
“Your poker face is shit, Jon”
“It is not!”
“You get it from your dad”
“This is like playing with my mon all over again. But worse since it’s with the guy I like—“
Random from: “oh shit” “did he really confess like that?” “Oh jonnyboy get it”
“I like you too.”
• but damian just got up and quickly tried to walk away before jon went and grabbed him , pulling him close and kissing him
“Your romantic sap.”
“Let’s get back to our room to cuddle.”
“Oh, now whose the one who always cuddles now?”
31 notes · View notes
Ooooo!! How would the ROs react to the "oh no there's only one bed" trope? Like...how hard would it be to convince them to share the bed...and would it possibly lead to cuddling or a romantic moment of some kind?
I knew this one was coming. 😆
Shea... I dunno, they might share the bed but the chance of any cuddling happening... are pretty slim. They barely move while sleeping and they wake at the slightest of movements/sounds.
Elexis doesn't mind sharing a bed but they wouldn't cuddle with someone while awake. They might cuddle up to someone in their sleep, though.
Idris(sa) would rather not share but sleeping on the floor or in a chair is a little too far beneath them, lol. They might gravitate towards a person's warmth in their sleep but they wouldn't cuddle.
Penrose doesn't mind sharing a bed and is perfectly happy keeping things cordial in bed. They can be easily persuaded to cuddle or hold someone, provided they like that person. During their sleep, they definitely do drape themselves all over the bed as well as over anyone caught inbetween.
Guinn wouldn't mind sharing but they'd try to keep to their own side as best as they can. They'd be too flustered to come near anyone while awake but they'll probably cling to the nearest warm body while sleeping.
Eir(i) doesn't like sharing a bed and would rather sleep on the floor or somewhere else.
Sutton would only share a bed with someone they trust or like. If they really like someone, they might even hold them, but in an extremely awkward/shy manner. They're more relaxed/loose while sleeping.
Sinclair would feel a bit iffy sharing a bed for sleeping reasons and they're usually not one for cuddling. They'd prefer a soft mattress over the floor though, so they could be persuaded. They probably wouldn't cuddle with anyone though.
100 notes · View notes
Can you do a Jesper Fahey x fem! reader with only one bed trope and corruption kink?
No problem, day 22.
6 notes · View notes
stale blood (4)
chris argent x reader
Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly where you’d expect to find a bog cat. There definitely wasn’t a bog, and it wasn’t even coastal, no major water sources… There was the lake an hour or so out of town, but the bodies were near the school. Your light flickered and you glanced up. 3am. Your tea was cold beside you and the rabbit hole had so far proved worthless, so you flipped your laptop closed and poured the stewed drink down the sink. A muffled click brought your attention and you frowned, letting your senses roam a little wider. Something was breathing – something big, rasping, and close. You fumbled for your phone. The breathing drew closer. You unsheathed your claws, hurrying towards your bedroom in search of the painted nettle plant you’d bought. This was as good a time to test that hypothesis as any. One hand out behind you held the front door shut as you passed it, heading for the stairs, your magic holding strong though you could feel something bashing at it. Then the door splintered under the weight of clawed hands, and a man stepped through. He was unnervingly tall, with eyes the colour of torchlit fog and black fur beginning to sprout up his arms. You growled, lowly, urgently tapping through your phone. He leapt forward and suddenly you were jumping out of reach of a full-blown paw, claw marks scraping down your chest. The man was gone, and you were faced with something entirely feline, and entirely feral. His hackles rose, fur bristling up so you couldn’t get a clear view of his true size. He hissed and you bolted before he could pounce, sprinting up the stairs.
“Hello?” Allison’s voice was quiet, confused, when she answered the phone.
“Allison,” you greeted, trying to keep your voice steady as the cat’s quiet footsteps approached. “It’s (Y/N). Your, uh, your Dad isn’t home is he?”
“Yeah, he is. Are you okay? You sound a little out of breath.” You heard her muffled voice call for Chris on the other end of the line.
“Well, on one hand, I’m great, because we were right.” The door to your room slammed open, and a huge paw sent you hurtling across the room, crashing into your closet with a thud. “On the other hand, there is a giant cat in my house.”
“There’s what?!” Allison exclaimed, and you heard shuffling in the background. You ducked under the cat’s next swipe, but he caught your arm and your phone tumbled from your hand. Growling, you sent it crashing back into the hallway with a wave of your hand. He yowled, but was back on his feet in a moment, hurtling towards you as you lurched towards the windowsill. You snatched up a handful of painted nettle and tossed it, desperately. The cat hissed, darting backwards, a few burns patterning into his fur where the leaves settled. You could hear Allison trying to talk to you, something about calling Scott, then the telltale beep of the line cutting off. Wary now, the cat circled you as you held the painted nettle plant between you and him, distinctly aware that the only way out was under the cat or out the window. He darted forward and you shot out a hand, throwing him back. But he landed on his feet and ran for you again, slamming into an unseen wall between you. You could feel the wound in your chest still oozing blood, though it should have healed by now, and your head was beginning to spin. Headlights flashed across your window as the Argents’ car hurtled down your quiet street. Your shield flickered with your focus, just long enough for a stray claw to slash across your face, and then you flipped, one clawed foot smashing into the cat’s jaw as you shattered through your bedroom window, plant still clutched to your chest. A few shards of glass embedded themselves in you, but you were more worried about the snarling of the cat behind you. There was a crash as he followed you from the window, then you were both blinded by torchlight. A ragged hiss, and it bounded away, disappearing into the woods behind your neighbour’s house.
“(Y/N)?” Allison questioned, as you blinked against the light of her torch, staggering towards their car. You hummed what you hoped was an agreement, holding the plant out to her. She took it, raising an eyebrow.
“It works,” you managed, after a beat. Chris rounded the other side of the house, gun still raised.
“Where’s Deaton?” Chris demanded, as Scott let you all into the vets.
“He’s on his way.”
“Why aren’t you healing?” Stiles frowned.
“I think he laced his claws with wolfsbane,” you admitted, looking down at the already-festering cuts on your chest.
“He knows what he’s dealing with. That means he didn’t come to Beacon Hills accidentally,” you realised, aloud, as Scott and Chris helped you up onto the operating table.
“If he’s laced his claws with wolfsbane, how are we meant to fight him?” Scott fretted, as Chris already began setting to work cleaning around your wounds.
“With that.” Allison was still holding the plant you had handed to her, as though she wasn’t sure what the hell else to do with it.
“It smells like weed,” Stiles commented, sniffing it suspiciously. “Are you going to feed the killer cat weed? Get it stoned?”
“It’s scaredy cat plant,” Deaton corrected, making Stiles jump as he entered. “Plectranthus caninus.”
“I was looking into it,” you explained, “As possibly useful, but I wasn’t sure.”
“So you went up against this thing with no idea how to hurt it except maybe a plant?” Stiles clarified.
“I didn’t invite it over,” you snapped, muffling a shout as Deaton poured antiseptic into one of the scratches.
“Can we talk about this after the wolfsbane is out of her system?” Chris prompted, raising an eyebrow at Stiles. Deaton held up a needle, and you groaned, but let him push you down onto the table anyway.
“Don’t look at me like that. This will be out of your system in thirty minutes,” he scolded, lightly, jabbing the needle into your neck. “Just lie there and be glad you’re not a real dog.”
When you blinked awake again, the room wasn’t any quieter. Stiles was complaining loudly about supernatural creatures targeting them, while Deaton very patiently pointed out that the town was literally a supernatural beacon, Stiles, and your best friend is a once-in-several-lifetimes rarity, you can move away to college if you want.
“He enjoys this too much,” Scott snickered, making Stiles glare at him. “What, it’s true! You’re the one who dragged me out to murder investigations before I was even a werewolf.” Stiles grumbled a response, but you were too busy with the sudden pounding of your head to bother absorbing it.
“It’d be really nice if being bitten cured migraines.” The room fell silent, then Chris was at your shoulder, helping you as you struggled to sit up.
“How are you feeling?”
“I no longer feel like I’ve been attacked by a large cat,” you started, wincing against the lights as Deaton quickly dimmed them. “But I could do without the jackhammer in my head.” Deaton passed you some painkillers, and you smiled gratefully.
“You didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?” Scott asked, peering at you worriedly.
“No, this is distinctly a migraine. Give me a few hours of sleep and a handful of painkillers and I’ll be fine,” you assured him, finally settling on just closing your eyes. A shiver ran through you, and you instinctively leaned into the warmth at your side, before it shifted, and you remembered, as Chris’ arm wrapped around your shoulder, engulfing you in his warmth. You didn’t see the three teenagers exchange glances.
“We should all get some rest,” Deaton spoke, eventually. “You three – four, I suppose – still have school on Monday. You’ll keep an eye on (Y/N)?” You shot your eyes open, feeling Chris nod above you.
“Hold on, I don’t need babysitting!” you protested, though your voice was barely above a whisper. Stiles snickered and you glared at him.
“Well you’re not going home alone,” Scott insisted, folding his arms.
“Your house was trashed anyway,” Allison pointed out, making you grimace.
“There goes my deposit.”
“You almost died and you’re worried about your deposit?” Chris raised an eyebrow.
“We aren’t all renowned arms-dealers, Argent,” Stiles put in, before you could answer. “In this economy, I’m with her.” You felt the heave of Chris’ sigh, but he didn’t respond.
You climbed out when Chris stopped the car, and barely even bothered protesting as he took your bag. You’d almost given up on arguing with him, he won every time, and your head was already pounding.
“I’m going to bed. You know where to find me if you need anything.” Allison kissed her father goodnight and padded up the stairs.
“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, I’ll make up the spare bed in the morning,” Chris offered, leading the way upstairs as Allison disappeared into her room. “I’ll come by and check on you every couple of hours – I know you’re a shifter, but you still jumped out a window and took a solid hit of wolfsbane.”
“I won’t kick you out of your bed, Chris. I can take the couch,” you answered, tiredly. He plopped your bag down at the foot of the bed and turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “You’re already housing me, you don’t need to give up your bed. Or your sleep, for that matter.” You reached for the bag. Chris blocked you.
“Just take the bed.”
“Either we share, or I’m sleeping on the couch.” Chris blinked. “It’s plenty big enough, and then I won’t have to talk you out of checking on me when you need to sleep.”
“We’re not teenagers at a sleepover! You were seriously injured!”
“Will you two make up your minds so we can all sleep?” Allison called across the hall.
“Fine. We can share.” You smiled, triumphantly, as Chris ceded.
88 notes · View notes
Six Sentence Someday
I was tagged by @pchberrytea, thank you! I tag @third-rail-vip, @sm0lp0tat0-writes, and anyone else who wants to. No pressure if you don’t have something to share, I just enjoy tagging others to let them feel included.
I haven’t been as productive during my time off as I thought I would, but I took some time for myself and have been painting. Anyway, here’s part of a blurb I wrote that I’m debating on expanding more on. Again, it’s a little longer than six sentences I think, but hey, it’s a trope. And they were having fun at the bar beforehand.
They opened the door, giggling at how Em almost dropped the key more than once, then almost fell into the room, stumbling and giggling still as-
“Em... there’s.. there’s just one bed.”
Em blushed hard. “Yyyyep.”
“Lemme... Lemme get the sleepin’ bag. I’ll... I’ll Sleep,” he interrupted himself with a few chuckles, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
He looked down at her. “Huh?”
“That’s really rude of me. I don’t.. I don’t want you to sleeponthefloor.”
“You’re gonna let me sleep next to ya?”
“Yyyyyep. So get in.”
12 notes · View notes
Everyone loves a good “only one bed” trope! 🛏😂🧅
3 notes · View notes
I am never going to mock the “only one bed” trope ever again as I have just spent 2 hrs on hotel websites looking for 2 beds and only finding rooms with 1 king.
3 notes · View notes
And They Were Roommates, Mr. Stark!
(Oh my God, they were roommates, Peter.)
Summary: Well, there was only one bed...Peter can’t help being a meme and Tony will join in every time.
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Velika Dante King (Fem!OC)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Fem!OC
Warnings: Fluff, nightmares, probably blackmail because why not
A/N: There’s really not a plot here. I just wanted to write an Only One Bed trope for my babies. Because why not. This isn’t beta read or proofread. It’s four-thirty am. leave me be.
The safehouse was actually...nice for once. Well, it wasn’t in the middle of the damn woods, for a start. And it wasn’t falling apart, nor did it smell musty and unused. This safe house must be newer, which was a comfort after a mission gone slightly awry.
The door didn’t stick when Bucky opened it, nearly stumbling over his feet when it swung in with way less resistance than he’d expected. There were three rooms in total, as usual. A living room and kitchen combination, a bedroom, and a bathroom. He dropped their stuff on the table and immediately began to strip off his tactical gear.
Velika kicked the door shut and leaned against it, exhausted. It was supposed to be a short mission. Get in, get the files, and get out. Well, the base wasn’t abandoned. In fact, it had been crawling with Hydra agents. It wasn’t impossible for the two of them to get through the agents, but that didn’t make it easy. Her body ached in ways she didn’t think possible.
“You wanna shower first? You look dead on your feet.” Bucky asked, laying weapons out on the table from where they’d been strapped to his body. “I’m gonna try and make contact with Stark. Let ‘em know we’ve made it here safely and get an ETA.”
“You’re a blessing.” Velika pushed off the door and pulled the zipper of her jacket. She shucked it off, tossing it over the back of the only couch as she passed. “I’ll try not to use up all the hot water.” She teased.
“I spent the last seventy-ish years on ice. A little cold won’t kill me now.” Bucky shot back over his shoulder. It earned him a laugh and he smiled to himself as the door to the bathroom shut.
He grabbed his jacket and snagged hers on the way by and walked to the door. There were a few coat hooks on the wall. He could at least tidy their mess up. He toed his boots off and placed them out of the way. He grabbed a lighter from the cupboard and made his way to the fireplace with full intention to light a fire.
Bucky paused and furrowed his brow, looking at the open door of the bedroom. He stood and crossed to the doorway, poking his head in. Well, that was fantastic. There was only one bed. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Velika. The opposite was the case. And he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep his hands to himself if they were in the same bed together.
He sighed and returned to the fire, lighting it quickly. Once it was crackling and putting off warmth, he wandered back to the kitchen table. He rifled through the duffle bag for his change of clothes, finding Velika’s there as well. He smiled and shook his head fondly.
Bucky knocked on the bathroom door lightly. “You left your clothes out here. I’m gonna come and set them on the counter, okay?”
“Oh, thanks!” Velika called from the other side. He opened the door, steam hitting him in the face, and reached out to plop them on the counter.
Bucky shut the door behind him and sighed. He dug around in the bag again for the SAT phone, finding it quickly. He pulled it out with his clothes, setting those down on the table. He sank into the chair, wincing as his knee popped. It didn’t hurt. It just sounded bad.
“Stark?” Bucky leaned back against the chair, slouching.
“Hit me, Barnsey.” Tony’s annoyingly cheery voice crackled over the receiver.
“We made it to the safe house.”
“Great! Uh, can you hang tight for the night? There’s a storm comin’ in tonight that’s grounding us until the morning. There should be food there and running water.” Now he just wanted to punch Tony in the face.
“Yeah...see you in the morning, then.” He ran a hand over his face and hung up. Well, twelve hours or so until evac.
“So, how long are we cooped up here?” Velika asked from behind him. She was pressing water from her blonde hair, her head tilted to the side. She now had a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt on and she looked far more comfortable now. And tired.
“There’s a storm hitting New York tonight that’s grounded even us. We’re here till morning.” Bucky stiffly rose to his feet.
“Ew. I was hoping to get an actual meal tonight.” She wrinkled her nose up like she did when she smelled watermelon or kiwis. They weren’t allowed in the compound anymore as the smell just made her nauseous. “Let me get my crap out of the bathroom and then it’s all yours. There’s still hot water left.”
Velika disappeared back into the bathroom and reappeared with her shoes and tactical clothes. She stuffed them into the duffle bag and pulled her hair up.
“You hungry?” She asked as he scooped up his clothes and headed for the shower.
“A bit, yeah.” Bucky leaned in the doorway, his head resting against the wood.
“Want me to cook something?” Velika offered.
“Please?” He almost looked like a puppy for a second and she knew immediately that she couldn’t deny him even if she wanted to.
“Go shower, then. Can’t promise it’ll be done by the time you get out, though, knowing your penchant for three-minute showers.” Velika teased and started for the small kitchenette.
“You took eight minutes. Five minutes longer than you usually do.” Bucky countered, pushing off the doorway.
“Oh, you’re timing my showers, now? Go, you dork. Before I change my mind and let you starve.” He chuckled and the door to the bathroom shut.
Velika rifled through the pantry and found non-perishable cans of food. At least they weren’t reduced to MREs this time. She pulled a can of soup out and glanced it over. It would do for the night. She found a pot and set it on the stove before pouring the contents of the can into it. She set the lid on the pot and let it slowly start to heat up.
She leaned against the counter, eyes falling shut as she waited. She was exhausted. Though she’d hoped to be in her own bed tonight, whatever was here would have to do well enough. She’d certainly slept on worse, considering her time in the war and in the POW camp.
“I can cook for myself if you need to get some rest.” Bucky had a towel over his head and was ruffling it over his hair to get the water out. When he removed it, he looked like a fluffy dog. “Oh, by the way, there’s only one bed.”
That made her eyes snap open in disbelief. “You’re serious.”
“Check for yourself if you don’t believe me. I don’t mind taking the couch.” Bucky ducked back into the bathroom and returned with his clothes.
“We’re adults. If the bed isn’t tiny as hell, then we can share. It’s one night.” Velika turned the stove off and found a bowl. “Clear the stuff off the table, please.” After hearing the duffle bag hit the floor, she turned and set the food on the table for him. As an inhuman being, she didn’t really need to eat and she didn’t feel like forcing herself to.
“Alright. Thank you.” He sat down across from her and quietly started to eat. “Did you turn off the stove this time?”
“Yes!” Velika swiveled around anyways to check. “Did Stark give you a time to expect him by?”
“Nope. Just said they’d be here in the morning. Gives us time to sleep, at least.” Bucky leaned his face in his hand. It seemed that was the only thing really keeping him awake. Now that the adrenaline was gone and they were showered, it seemed they were both headed to crash soon.
“Well, I’m going to go get settled. Which side do you want?” She stood and raised her arms above her head, stretching her back out.
“Lef’ side is fine.” Bucky brought his hand up to catch the little bit of soup that slipped out as he spoke.
Velika snorted and placed a hand on his shoulder before heading to the bedroom. He was right. There was only one bed, but at least it was a double. She pulled the sheets and blankets back, her exhaustion quickly catching up to her. She crawled in and settled, finding the bed was actually very comfortable.
She was nearly asleep when the bed dipped with Bucky’s weight. He sighed tiredly and she fell asleep to the soft sound of him breathing.
“Report.” The voice came from behind her somewhere. She was staring at the floor with a blank expression. Where was she? What was going on? The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in a safe house with Bucky. Wait, who was Bucky?
“She’s ready. Go ahead, sir.” Another voice that she didn’t immediately recognize responded. No, not again. Not this again. They promised they’d leave her alone.
The words were jumbled but she knew them all the same. Her breathing became labored and she struggled against the chains binding her. Please, don’t do this. Not again. The feeling rose in her chest as a scream. Her voice was grating and rough.
Velika felt the tears run down her face. She got out. She was away from this. But they’d just dragged her right back into it. As the words continued, she started to still and calm. Her handler stood in front of her, waiting.
“My body and soul are yours to command.”
Velika sat up quickly, chest heaving. She hated those dreams. Those old memories dragged to the surface always came after her when she slept. She ran a hand over her face, wiping away the tears that had fallen. She took deep breaths to calm herself.
Five things. She could see her hands and the shape of the room. The air tasted damp like a small rainstorm had passed through. She could smell the soap provided for them and the traces of Bucky’s cologne. The blankets were soft beneath her fingers. The sound of Bucky’s steady breathing...was no longer something she could hear.
“Y’okay?” Bucky mumbled, voice low and slurred. He splayed his left hand on her lower back, thumb rubbing softly back and forth. She glanced over her shoulder at him. He’d rolled onto his back and was looking up at her with a sleepy yet concerned expression.
“Nightmare. M’okay.” Velika shakily sighed. “Did I wake you?”
“Yeah, but ‘s’okay,” Bucky assured her, continuing to trace patterns on her back. “Wanna talk ‘bout it?” His Brooklyn accent was coming out more since he was only half awake.
“Not...really. Just old memories.” Velika felt her heart begin to slow down. “What time is it?”
“Four in the morning, about. At least a couple hours till they’ll be here.” Bucky yawned and blinked tiredly. “You gonna try and sleep some more? I know how it can be after a nightmare.”
“I’d like to sleep more but honestly...I don’t know if I’ll be able to.” She sighed, staring at the corner of the room. She was still drained from the mission and her body needed the rest.
“C’mere.” Bucky rolled onto his left side, tugging on her shirt lightly to encourage her. “Maybe you’ll feel safer knowing ‘m here with you.”
Velika cautiously laid down next to him. He shifted up a little to give her a little more space. She settled in, head tucked under his chin. He pulled her closer, throwing a leg over her waist to effectively wrap himself around her. He reasoned that if he did that, maybe he could protect her from more nightmares tonight.
Bucky pulled the blankets back over them, making sure she was comfortable. “Get some more rest, m’kay?” Without thinking, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She tensed in his arms and he panicked for a second.
“If you’re gonna kiss me, at least do it properly.” Velika teased and he was glad to hear lightness in her voice.
“Didn’ think it was a good time, considerin’ you woke up from a bad dream,” Bucky admitted, face heating up. Her hand cupped his cheek and tilted his head down to look him in the eye.
“All things considering, I think it’d be the best time. Gimme a good memory to combat the bad.” She whispered, a twinkle in her eyes.
Bucky smiled and shyly leaned in to kiss her. It was gentle and timid. He didn’t want to give her the wrong intentions. She pressed closer to him, returning the kiss and he could feel her smiling against his lips.
“’S that gonna work?” He muttered when they parted.
“I think it’ll do just fine.” Velika giggled and snuggled into him. “I really like you. Like, romantically.”
“Oh, good. I was hopin’ it was that and not you checkin’ to see if I brushed my teeth.” He joked, eyes falling closed.
“Nope.” He grinned and kissed her forehead.
“Well, guess we’re even ‘cause I didn’t either,” Velika mumbled, eyes fluttering as she fought to stay awake.
“Get some sleep, angel. We can talk about where we go from here once we’re comprehensive.” Bucky couldn’t help the smile spreading over his face. It was still there when he fell asleep.
Peter quietly opened the door to the bedroom and poked his head in. His eyes widened and he very quietly climbed up the wall to get a better vantage point. What he thought he saw was actually what he saw. He smiled widely, happy that the two of them had finally worked things out. He’d been trying to get Bucky to say something to Velika for months now.
He snuck down and out of the room just as quietly and shut the door.
“Are they still asleep, kid?” Tony asked, Ironman suitless. Once he’d scanned the area and found that things were safe, he’d figured it was easiest to just walk into the safe house without the armor. Peter pulled his mask off with a grin.
“And they were roommates, Mr. Stark.” He recited. Tony gave him a confused look and started for the bedroom door. He opened it and poked his head in as well before turning to Peter with an expression similar to a kid in a candy shop.
“Oh my God, they were roommates, Pete.” Tony immediately pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos. A little blackmail wouldn’t hurt for the future. He wouldn’t use it to do anything too terrible. Maybe just get Velika to wash the dishes for him when he didn’t want to. Something like that. He shut the door and turned to Peter. “Give ‘em five more minutes.”
Tony crossed his arms and stood quietly for maybe all of thirty seconds before checking his watch. “Okay, time’s up. Grab the pots. Let’s wake these lovebirds up.”
Tony Stark was lucky Velika and Bucky weren’t armed.
5 notes · View notes
💚💚 is this where i’m supposed to do the ask thing lmaoo ?? would love to hear some specific trope throw it at us
Thanks for the ask! <3 <3 <3
Now since you didn't mention any specific trope (my indecisive self is not at all mad about that ;)), I checked online and decided on the first one I came across...Only one bed trope! (it won't be sexual at all, for anyone wondering)
Anyway, I'll be naming the characters S and R and using they/them pronouns for each of them (because it's gender neutral). Feel free to substitute with any other pronouns/names in your head as you read. Now, enjoy!
I'm shaking. My hands are trembling and my feet are tapping madly away on the floor of the car. My body feels electrified with excitement, it is the blood in my veins, the air in my lungs-
"S! Stop that before you cause an earthquake from all the shaking you're doing," R says, sparing me a fond glance to take the bite out of their words.
"Okay, okay," I reply, grinning wildly and ruffling their short blond hair, which gets me a look I like to call 'I'm currently wishing Hellfire on you and I'm trying to summon it with the sheer force of my glare'. I've been on the receiving end of this look many many times in the 10 years that we've been friends and now it just makes me grin wider.
We're on our way to R's vacation cabin in...I honestly have no clue where it is.
I decide to play music, mostly to drown out the thoughts in my head that are yelling "We're almost there!" "I can't believe it!" "This is going to be so much fun!" "Ugh, how much longer, I can't take it anymore!" And so on.
I throw my head back and forth to Party In The USA as R sings along. R's singing could rival an angel's. I hear them sing and it feels like every cell in my body is dancing along to that music. It's given me literal chills sometimes, that's how good it is.
R stops the car and my heart tries to escape my chest. I squeal a little as I get out of the car. I go over to R's side and do an exaggerated little bow before I open the door for them. Don't ask me why. Okay, okay, I'll explain if you want to know that badly. If one person drives the whole way, then the least the other person can do is open their door for them and give them a happy welcome out of the car.
I grab R's hands and start flapping them around haphazardly.
"Done?" R says, when I've stopped and let go of their hands. I nod. I always do this when I have a little too much energy (good or bad) (when it's bad I sometimes keep it going a little longer, just so I can keep holding their hands).
R runs their hand purposefully through my short curls and I sigh softly. I pull them closer and rest my chin on their head for a moment. I breathe in the scent of their shampoo, strawberry and I get stuck on the question that I've pondered so many times. Do I like the way their hair smells because I like strawberries, or do I like the scent of strawberries because it smells like their hair?
R pulls back and flicks me on the nose before running for the cabin.
"Oh, I'm gonna get you back for that!" I reply, chasing after them.
It's been ages since I've been to this cabin, but everything still looks the same. Warm browns and golds, comforting and beautiful. I sink onto the sofa, rest my head back and close my eyes. S charges in, I don't even have to see them to figure that out because I can hear their stomping footsteps.
They reach the sofa and stop in front of me. Immediately, they throw themselves beside me. I'd find it annoying if I didn't find it so cute (Actually I think it may be both). They grab my hands and begin kneading it with their thumb.
"The driver deserves a hand massage too!" They announce. I snort, even as my heart begins to speed up.
"How many more ways are you going to come up with, I wonder, that are supposed to be to help me but are just your way of absolving your guilt for making me drive the whole time?" I snark back, hoping that it doesn't make them let go of my hands. They don't let go. I hope I'm not visibly blushing.
"Oi! This massage will be so good, it'll make you forgot all about those terrible words you just uttered." They run their hand softly across my palm for a moment and a giggle slips out.
We were both very tired from travelling all day, so after a light dinner we decide to simply go to bed. Little did I know it would end up being the same bed.
We enter the only room and I realise that the housekeeper forgot to add a separate bed like I told her to. I quickly glance at S to see what their reaction is. They seem perfectly unbothered, they seem to be smiling gleefully even. They run to the bed and throw themselves on it, sighing loudly and dramatically. I walk calmly (nothing else about me is calm right now) and sit on the other side and I have to admit that the mattress is incredibly soft, perfectly sigh-worthy.
I walk to the bathroom and do my skin routine, all the while wondering if I'm really going to have to share the bed with S. I change into a pair of comfy unicorn pyjamas and leave the bathroom to see that S has already fallen asleep, their long body pulled up to form a tiny bundle.
I smile at them and silently get into bed beside them. I remember them holding my hand. Them hugging me. Them massaging my hands. I blush and blush and blush and then fall into sleep entirely due to exhaustion.
I wake up to something tickling my nose. I open my eyes to see golden hair in my eyes. I close them back for a second, registering nothing wrong. Then they snap open again as it clicks whose hair this is. I look down and realise that I've fully wrapped myself around R's body. I've tangled my legs with theirs and wrapped an arm around their waist, and until a moment ago I'd buried my face in their hair.
I can feel my ears and chest and neck and cheeks heating up. I feel like I'm about to explode from all the heat in my body. I want to abruptly pull away from R but I'm afraid that that'll wake them up (and I never want to pull away from them anyway). I raise myself on the arm that's not wrapped around them and gaze at their face. Nose high up on their face and sharp eyebrows. Wide lips and utterly pinchable cheeks.
My heart feels like the last puzzle piece piece has been inserted and the image is perfectly clear now. I stare at their face and I realise how long I've been doing this, using their presence to ground me. My gaze gets stuck on their lips and their forehead and their cheeks and their nose. All the places I want to put my own lips. My heart slams against my chest like a sledgehammer and I fall back against the pillow and close my eyes, trying to convince myself to fall back asleep.
I get woken up by the sun streaming in gently through the windows. I've always been an early waker usually because of the cold, but surprisingly I'm not feeling cold at all right now. I look down to see myself clutching an arm and I blink confused. I turn around a little and see S's face. I quickly turn back and stay still, hoping they don't wake up right now. I let out a relieved breath when they don't. Now I know why I'm not feeling cold.
I look down and realise that I'm also holding their leg captive between mine. I get goosebumps all through my body. I shiver and clutch their arm tighter unable to stop taking comfort from them. I close my eyes and feel the warmth all along my back and legs. I sigh and decide to enjoy the warmth for a little while longer. Unknown to me, I fall back asleep.
I wake up with a big stretch. This dislodges R and they turn to face me. I freeze under their sleepy eyed gaze. I smile softly at the confusion in them and lean forward to kiss their cheek. They turn a little to the side and the kiss lands on their mouth. I still completely and turn a panicked look into their eyes.
They grin indolently and say, "Again."
"Again?" I'm whispering, I don't know why I'm whispering (I do. I'm whispering because this feels like something magical and fragile and I'm terrified to break it).
"Again," they say, but before I can do anything they lean forward and kiss me.
They pull back and grin at me, looking fully awake now, "Stunned speechless huh?" they say smugly. And I can't let that stand, now can I? So I lean forward to show them how not-stunned I am and I make sure that they're speechless too.
(We later find a note under one of the pillows from the housekeeper, saying Enjoy! with a cheeky little winky face drawn beside it.)
Fandom: Prometheus - Fandom, Alien Series
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: David 8/Elizabeth Shaw (Alien Series)
Characters: David 8 (Alien Series), Elizabeth Shaw (Alien Series)
Additional Tags: Fluff, Random - Freeform, Fake Dating, prometheus fanfic, Robot/Human Relationships, android/human relationships, in this household we ignore the atrocity that was Alien: Covenant, David 8 would never, Multichapter, There was only one bed trope
David 8 and Elizabeth Shaw pretend to be a couple to get past security.
your yearly reminder that Baby It’s Cold Outside is a song about a woman having CONSENSUAL sex, at a time when premarital sex was frowned upon. The female singer is offering up the token demurrals society expects her to, because it’s expected, not bc she doesn’t fully intend to stay and have awesome sex with a dude she’s into. The male singer knows this, and is in turn offering her an excuse to give to the neighbors in the morning (“it was too cold for me to go home, the only responsible thing to do was spend the night at his place. because of the weather, get your minds out of the gutter”). A 1950s audience would have understood all this, but the nuance gets lost in a modern age where women are actually allowed to say yes when they mean it.
Also the “hey what’s in this drink” thing was a common joke at the time, where the punchline was that there was in fact nothing in the drink. the woman’s making a joke that she wouldn’t do this if she was sober, oh goodness no! it’s only a joke bc both she and the man are in on the punchline: she is sober, and is only staying bc she wants to
50K notes · View notes
prompts for characters going to sleep together
warning for some nsfw prompts
curling up to next to your lover in bed, giving them a kiss on the cheek
bringing your lover home from a date, and being asked to spend the night
you've been in a fight, your lover has already gone to bed, without resolving it, but you still whisper ''i love you'' before crawling into bed, because it's something you always do before going to sleep, and this fight doesn't chance anything bonus: your lover isn't actually asleep, and pulls you into their arms
you live in an apartment with your best friend. the two of you always fall asleep in each other's arms, but one day, your friend isn't there. they've fallen in love with someone else. it's your other best friend, who recently moved in with you. and that's when you realize, that those nights you spent together, weren't so platonic after all
waking up at 2am, having lazy, gentle sex before falling asleep in each other's arms
your lover doesn't have anything to sleep in, so you lend them one of your shirts, which is totally too big for them, and it's adorable
your lover doesn't have anything to sleep in, you assure them they'll sleep better without anything on
''if you sleep on the couch, then so will i''
you haven't been able to sleep properly in months, until you meet this one person, and before you know it, you're sound asleep. it's the best sleep you've ever had
you find your lover asleep on the couch, kissing their forehead before you carry them to bed and tuck them in
sharing a bed, but, mutually pining, neither of them getting an inch of sleep, both just staring at the ceiling because they're close enough to touch but they can't
two characters cramming onto a couch together because they let their friend have the bed and they don't want to sleep apart from each other
a steady hand resting on your lover's boob
falling asleep while stargazing
you kiss your lover good night, but as they pull you on top of them, you trace kisses all over their body
the big spoon is reluctant to be the little one, but the little one convinces them to try it for one night
sleeping in a bed that's so small, your bodies are touching at all times, making it even harder to keep your hands off of each other and fighting attraction
you're in bed, ready to go to sleep, but is interrupted when your lover flies out of bed, suggesting that you make some pancakes together, and you glare at your lover like, it's fucking two A.M in the morning ?
sharing a bed, moving closer and closer to your slow burn ''lover,'' finally giving into what you've been denying for so long, and instead of sleeping, you spend hours exploring each other's bodies
snow is raging outside, you and your lover spoon each other to stay warm
building a wall of pillows to prevent you from spooning each other (because spooning will lead to sex and it can't happen. again) (spoiler: it does happen again)
your lover's out of time and this is the first time you have to fall asleep without them
falling asleep while watching a movie together
it's 2am. your lover is still playing video games in the living room, so you grab your pillow, settling yourself in between your lover's thighs as you watch them play, and soon enough, you're asleep again
i know we have to be up early tomorrow but i can't stop kissing you
you and your enemy has to share a bed, and you find a bunch of knives hidden under the mattress. you pick one up, glaring at your lover like ''are you actually trying to kill me?'' but it's really just your enemy's way of making sure they're prepared in case they're ever to be attacked
crying yourself to sleep, your lover holding you close, trying to comfort you
sharing a bed with your ''lover'' and being told to “stay on your side of the bed“ only to wake up the next day, with your ''lover's'' arms wrapped around you
comforting your lover, who's just had a nightmare, assuring them they're okay, you're right here with them
falling asleep with your head on your lover's chest, listening to their heartbeat
there's two beds but somehow we still end up in the same one
there's two beds, and we're in love with each other, but not dating, and since none of us are ready to admit our feelings, we'll just pretend like nothing's wrong and awkwardly get into our separate beds even though the both of us want nothing more than to cuddle each other
whispering ''i love you'' to your ''lover'' while they're asleep because you're not sure if they feel the same way but you really needed to tell them that
alternatively, kissing your ''lover'' on the forehead while they're asleep because you're not sure if they feel the same way and they look peaceful while sleeping
your best friend just picked you up from your partner's house, because you just got dumped. you don't want to be alone, so you ask your best friend if you can stay the night, telling them you'll take the couch. your best friend convinces you to sleep in their bed, and as you snuggle closer to them, desperate for some comfort, they're surprised at first, but then pulls you into their arms
soft things fictional couples do when going to sleep + writing prompts
4K notes · View notes
here's a very unpopular opinion: i like it when one character offers to sleep on the couch in the "there was only one bed" trope. like are you telling me they had the opportunity to sleep in the same bed with their crush but they decided against it to respect them and not cross any possible boundaries? how attractive is that???? and also, it's a lot more realistic because who would even share the bed with someone when there's a couch? are yall raised like that? like, you genuinely can't sleep on a couch?
840 notes · View notes