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malarkgirlypop · 8 months

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Warriors (Edward Tipper x F!Reader) Part 2

Hola! Here is part two! Feels weird to finish a story since my other one is going on forever ahaha. I hope you like it @lenabob! Special thanks to my ghost reader @brassknucklespeirs who gets to be read these fics like a bed time story. You're my bitch! Even now when she is violently hungover she gets to proof read my work. Thanks boo, you have officially created a monster. Based on the HBO series and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to the men who served.

***

Y/N loads into the plane, struggling to climb the ladder due to the extra gear that had been given to all of the soldiers. Needing to be pushed from behind to get her into the plane. She takes a seat on the bench, her heart beating in her ears. Tipper sits beside her, he doesn’t say anything but takes her hand in his, giving her a reassuring squeeze. She looks over to the man, his face covered in paint, but still the same handsome man as always. His eyes crinkle at the sides as he gives her a smile, she can’t help but smile back. They keep their hands locked together. As the reality settles in. Soon they would be jumping out of this plane and into war. Some of them would make it and some wouldn’t, there was no guarantee. The engine of the plane roared to life being the only thing you could hear.

“I’ll find you.” Tipper yells in her ear. Y/N nods. They had made a plan that they would find each other and stick together after they had landed. It was optimistic of them to think that would happen. The plane rattled, the men sitting in silence. Nervous looks on all of their faces. This was happening, everything they trained for was coming to fruition. The plane shuddered forward, taking off down the runway. After gaining enough speed the wheels left the ground as it soared into the air. It felt like the longest flight. Soon it was dark outside. Tipper and Y/N were still pressed together holding hands. They were savouring their last moments with each other before dropping into the mayhem that was war. The chaos soon found them though before they had even landed. The red light signalled on. Winters commanded everyone to their feet, readying them for the jump. Bomb blasts lit up the night sky. The bombs hit closer, sending the plane sideways, as the men got thrown off their feet. Scrambling to stand back up. Fire exploding around them, Y/N could feel the heat of the explosives as they blew. A gasp left her lips, from where she was standing she could see out the open door. A plane to their right took a direct hit. Splitting in half, the front of the plane nosedived towards the ground as the back of the plane followed suit. A blast close by sent shards of glass flying through the cabin hitting some of the men behind her. They cried out in pain. She begged the light to turn green, up here they were sitting ducks. She was ready to be out of the flying death trap. The plane flew up and down, swerving out of the way of other falling planes and debris making it hard for the men to stay on their feet. The light finally turned green, a sigh of relief leaving Y/N lips. The men jumped one by one. Tipper jumped ahead of her, sending her a tight smile. Soon she was falling out of the plane. She winced as bullets ripped past her, explosions blast nearby sending waves of heat in her direction. She couldn’t see anything in the dark of the night, disorientated from the scattered blasts of light from the explosions. Y/N looks to the ground where she was heading to land, finding a plane beneath her on fire. Yanking on her parachute straps she was able to dodge the fiery mess. She landed harshly on the ground, quickly removing her gear to get out of the open field she just landed in. Fumbling around she brought up the rope her leg bag was attached to. Only to find a frayed end, oh that’s just great. After walking in the dark for what felt like forever, Y/N finally stumbled across some of the other men, greeting them with the code word flash and their reply of thunder. They were a while away from their objective but they were able to locate where they were. They walked all night, strolling down the road the sun rose behind them leaving a beautiful burnt orange sky. They marched into the farm where the rest of the soldiers had gathered. Y/N eyes scanned the faces of the men who walked past, looking for a certain nose she had saved to memory. Y/N spotted Lieb who sat on a stone wall.

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Lieb joked, giving Y/N a squeeze. She peered over the man’s shoulder as they embraced still searching. A helmet popped up from behind the wall, followed by a familiar face, Y/N almost pushed Lieb out of the way to reach the man.

“Tipper!” She yelled at the man who hadn’t noticed her yet. His eyes flicked to her recognising the voice.

“Y/N!” They rushed towards each other, Y/N jumped into his arms wrapping her legs around his sides, she could cry with happiness to see the man alive and uninjured. They sobered after hearing the other men fall into silence watching their intimate reunion. Y/N quickly unhooked her legs from Tip as he placed her back on the ground. Giving each other a sheepish smile. She looked over to Lieb who was grinning, she raised her eyebrows at him daring him to make a comment. Lieb made a face and shrugged his shoulders. As the rest of the men started chatting with each other again. Tipper and Y/N sat next to each other as they exchanged stories about how they had reached the farm. By nightfall the second battalion had secured Sainte-Marie-du-Mont, and elements of the 4th division were beginning to move men and material inland. They had given the soldiers an hour to rest and scrounge for any food they could find. Y/N and Tipper sat in the back of the truck with the other soldiers of Easy company. Malarkey was cooking some stew in a half cut gasoline tank. Y/N chuckled as Buck told them about poor Popeye being shot in the ass that day, when they were securing the guns. Malarkey started handing out his dish he had made. Tipper and Y/N stared eating, giving each other a surprised look of, wait this is actually kinda good.

“Don’t look at each other like that!” Malarkey said as they exchanged a glance.

“Look at each other like what?” Y/N laughed.

“Like you're surprised it’s good. Of course it’s good, I made it!” Malarkey puffed out his chest in pride, making the pair laugh harder.

“It’s very good, thank you Don.” Y/N thanked the chef as they grinned at each other. Tipper nudged her with his arm as they shared another chuckle between them.

Easy company sit around the monument in the middle of the town, waiting for instructions to move. Tipper and Y/N are stuck to each other.

“This is my first time in France.” Tipper says as he sips on his canteen looking around the town.

“Me too, is’t it nice we get to see France together.” Y/N jokes, Tipper elbows her.

“You know what I mean. Weird to think the only reason we are here is because of the war. I don’t think I would’ve travelled to France if it wasn’t for this.” Tipper ponders. Y/N nods her head.

“Well we wouldn’t have met if it wasn’t for the war.” Y/N thought out loud.

“Should we cheers to the war then, for letting us find each other?” Tipper held out his canteen, and Y/N clinked them together.

“To the war!” They mumbled together.

“Let’s go first platoon, Easy’s moving out! On your feet!” Welsh yells from in front of them. They help each other stand making their way in front of Welsh to listen to his command. Welsh tells the soldier’s they are on light and noise discipline, and that they are taking Carentan. The men move out following behind Welsh. Y/N nerves return, this will be the first time in combat.

Night falls quickly, as they march towards their next destination. Everyone followed orders keeping quiet, the only sound that could be heard was the crunching of ground underfoot and the distant echoes of gunfire. Everyone was on high alert as they walked. Due to the poor visibility of night Y/N eyes flitted from one thing to another. Her brain used to trick her when she was younger, when she would be lying in bed unable to get to sleep her mind would race. Thinking about monsters lurking in the shadows, her eyes would land on a darkness in her room which looked like a man standing in the corner. She would be quick to turn on her flashlight pointing it in the direction of the shadowy figure, only to find her coat hung over the back of her door. Her eyes did the same on this walk, any bush or tree that looked oddly human shaped would make her jump and point her gun in it’s direction, only for her eyes to adjust and see that her brain was showing her things that weren’t really there. The other men would continue their walk past her as she glared at the humanoid bush, cursing it for being so creepy. Tipper stayed close, walking behind Y/N. He would wait for her as she assessed her surroundings, not making any jokes or teasing her for thinking everything was alive, because he felt the same.

D-day plus 6, that was when they finally came upon Carentan. The small town was desolate, smoke rising from the centre, due to old fires finally burning out. There was an unmistakable air of kenopsia around the town. Crouching down just outside of the town the platoons waited for instructions. The signal went for the ambush to begin. In a group they charge down the entrance to the town, soon to be met with enemy fire. Y/N and Tipper dive into the ditch as men fall to the ground around them. Y/N ducks as she is pinned down by the rivals fire.

“GET MOVING!” Winters screams at the men. Y/N rises to her feet clambering out of the ditch, running into the field nearby to find another entrance into the town, other men follow her lead. Y/N barges through a side gate into a back road. Y/N pins herself to the side of a building. Peeking her head round the corner she spots gun fire from the top window of the nearby shops. Raising her rifle, she lines up the shot. Squeezing the trigger letting her round fire into her target. The shooting from the shops stops. The soldier across from her is shot as he collaspes to the floor.

“Sniper!” She yells to the men behind her, as she glances around trying to figure out where the shot came from. She spots a man lying down hidden in a stairway with his rifle propped up. That’s him. She turns her fire to the sniper, raising her rifle once again. Hitting him with precision, the man slumps down unmoving. Machine gun fire hits the building Y/N and the men cover behind. They duck back further behind the wall to ensure they aren’t hit. Y/N gives the men a signal telling them to wait, when the fire stops she knows they are reloading. Popping around the corner she takes out the machine gunners in the lower shop window. Now with the machine gun down they are able to move further into the town. They move forward as a group, keeping low. Some of the men split up to clear the other building close by to ensure all of the enemy were gone. Y/N glanced around at the men who were with her, faces all familiar but the one she desperately seeked was not there. Y/N turned her attention back to the task at hand, Tipper will be fine, stop worrying.

Tipper ran with Lieb, also scanning the faces for Y/N but he hadn’t seen her in a while. She had gotten out of the ditch so fast he couldn’t keep up. He knew she would be safe though.

“Tipper take Liebgott, start clearing these buildings.” Welsh ordered the men, as they took cover in a doorway.

Tipper got down on his knee propping the bazooka onto his shoulder aiming for the building across from them. The sound boomed from the weapon as the rocket soared into the structure blasting a hole through the front of it, sending debris flying into the street. Tipper was on his feet again moving to clear out the next house. A loud rumble shook the ground they ran on.

“They got us zeroed! Spread it out! Spread it out!” Lip yelled from a high point. The whistling sound piercing through the air signalling bombs were being dropped from the sky as they hit the town the men were in. Bombs rocked the town blowing the street and houses to pieces, the men fled from the street, trying to get out of the open. Tipper watched as a soldier standing in the street got torn to pieces from a shell landing next to him, his legs stayed planted to the ground while his body flew into the air landing on the ground next to his legs. Tipper looked away from the horrific scene, trying his best to not think about what he had just witnessed.

Running towards a pharmacy, Lieb and Tipper kick in the door, ensuring the building is clear. Guns at the ready, they sweep the inside. Tipper moves to the back of the building, opening the back door. A sheet flaps in the wind making the man gasp in fright, as he staggers back. Lifting his gun.

Tipper yells, “Hello?” to the green shed in the back garden. “Anybody there?” he calls again before firing a couple of shots into the structure.

Y/N sees Lieb leave the pharmacy. “Where’s Tipper?” She calls to the man, he motions behind him to the building. Her eyes fixed onto the window trying to see if she could spot the silhouette of the man. Moving towards the building she makes her way to the doorway. A whistling sound catches her attention. SHIT. Tipper stands just a couple of metres away. Everything slows as she runs forward towards him. Lunging forward she captures him in her arms tackling them to the floor as the shell hits, sending them flying further back into the building. They groan as they lie on the floor together. After getting her bearings again, Y/N crawls up to be closer to Tipper’s face. Y/N scans his head and torso looking for any injuries. Tipper does the same grabbing her face in his hands giving her a once over with his eyes.

“You ok?” He pants, too stunned to speak, Y/N nods her head. “You saved me!” he says shocked.

“Of course I saved you idiot.” She replies. He shakes his head in disbelief, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I love you, Y/N.” Tipper whispers into her ear. Y/N pulls back to see if he’s being genuine. His eyes shine as he looks at her.

“What?” Y/N asked, baffled by his confession, he loves me?

“To tell you the truth Y/N, I have loved you ever since we collided on Currahee. I had just been waiting for you to figure it out.” He confesses. She’s speechless, looking at the man that she has loved now for years. Their eyes looking from each other to their lips. They moved forward gently, finding each other in the middle. Their lips press together softly, as they hold each other close. Letting the world around them fall away for just a moment. They pull away, only to collide again. This time with more lust and need. Y/N gripping her fingers into the back of Tipper’s hair, needing him closer than they were currently. Tipper’s hand slipping under her jacket to grip her hips rocking her forward. They part once more, panting, “I love you.” Y/N whispers back.

#STAWP SHES DONE #I finishes a story and that is surprising #I never finish anything #My undiagnosed ADHD doesn't let me finish things #Anyway heres part 2 as promised #Sorry if it is bad I didn't really proof read it whoops #My ghost reader is hungover so blame her #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #fanfic #donald malarkey #bill guarnere #joe toye #reading #band of brothers fluff #band of brothers x reader #Edward Tipper x F!reader

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lejacquelope · 4 months

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Being the star of the world’s most viral runaway bride video wasn’t how I envisioned my future when I woke up on my wedding morning, but here we are.With me hiding from the world in Fiji where I’m now honeymooning solo.And where I just tripped over my number one celebrity crush, hungover and sleeping on my little porch.Turns out Jonas Rutherford, Razzle Dazzle movie star and heir to the entertainment conglomerate’s billions, is having his own relationship issues and is here hiding too after details of his scandalous divorce went public.I didn’t think inviting him in for a hangover cure would lead to us getting friendly. And friendlier. And then—okay, yes.I slept with him. Who can blame a girl? When you’re suddenly unexpectedly single and the number one guy on your freebie list is available, you leap.But when I wake up the next morning, I discover I’m not the only runaway in my life, because he’s just ghosted me.It’s fine. I’m fine. Neither one of us is in a position to start an actual relationship.But three years later?When he crashes my brother’s wedding?Where the son that he’s just discovered he has is serving as ring bearer?Life was a lot easier when I was just a runaway bride.

Yet another objectification story that starts out from jump with the billionaire romance. She sees billionaire, she fucks billionaire. Not the working class dude, the BILLIONAIRE. And this is selling like hotcakes because women prefer fucking billionaires. If he was a geek or a waiter this book would be collecting dust under a pile of other books in the 4 for $1 bin at the Dollar General the day of release.

Romance is only possible for billionaires, Princes/Sheiks and Navy Seals. "But they treat women right!" yeah of course they do, that's why so many bestsellers feature amazons on a quest to save the male geek / barrista-

oh, wait... I can find plenty of those titles in the 4 for $1 on day of! Amazon will rip you off, one for $2!

Well on the bright side the rare woman who is into "Sarah & Chuck" romance stories can get them super hella cheap! (But if you want to read about the Princess on her horse to rescue her peasant heart throb yer gonna have to write that yourself and peddle it to the male readers.)

Anita Sarkeesian had to have a go at male gamers but this shit is still flourishing and she never batted an eyelash about it. Huh. We couldn't have Dead or Alive Xtreme 3 but this shit is running rampant. WTF.

And to the angry feminists who see this and seethe in response I do have an olive branch to offer you...

oops, I lied.

Mybad!

#romance #romance novels #male objectification #billionaire romance

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Perspective

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse recounts the time he first met his now best friend who too has been gifted with a deep voice.

Requested by two Anons. This fic is a mash up of two very similar requests I got from an unnamed Anon and 🖤🥀 Anon, so a big thank you to the both of you for sending in your requests! I’m really sorry to be posting your requested fic so late but I hope the final product is gonna make the wait you had to endure worth it! If you come across it and read it, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

“Yeah, yeah ok, I know.“ I can’t help but playfully roll my eyes at the comments that are flooding in, “Before any more people address it - even though it’s only been five minutes - I’m gonna address it myself: I apologize for the absence of the guest I promised would accompany me on this stream. She made the choice to party until late - or should I say early - and is currently probably asleep. And...I just don’t have the heart to wake her.“

In all honesty, all the blame should fall on Y/N’s lack of responsibility but I could never say such a thing - she rarely let’s herself loose and allows herself to have fun so there’s no way I’m gonna hold this one instance against her. Quite the contrary actually: I hope she starts going out and having fun more frequently cause really deserves it. She’s a super hardworking girl, studying college and working her ass off simultaneously.

“For those of you who don’t know who I’m referring to: the girl in question is Y/N, aka Jumpscaretastic, a horror games oriented streamer. She was supposed to join me for this freaky journey but...yeah I’ll have to endure it on my own because fuck me.“ I take a look at my chat again, deciding to keep this interaction with my viewers going for a bit longer before I start the game. I may be stalling but you sure as hell won’t hear me admit it. The game may be terrifying as hell - I have no doubt it is - but I doubt it would affect me so much if Y/N was here. My eyebrows furrow automatically at the sight of one specific question that I’ve been getting asked quite a lot recently and I’ve been doing my best to avoid it cause the idea - to me, at least - is so messed up. Why, we’ll get into that later. “No- ok, this is the first and last time I’ll be addressing this wild assumption, you guys, so listen carefully. Y/N and I are by no means related. I’m not related to every deep-voiced person on this planet, just FYI.“ Speaking of Y/N’s deep voice which I’ve gotten so accustomed to hearing, I can’t help but recall the first interaction the two of us had when she got invited by Toast for a game of Among Us with us when Felix canceled on us due to technical difficulties. “I may not be related to her but she really put into perspective how other people feel and react when they hear my voice. I, honestly speaking was astonished by hers.“

A few months ago

“Ok guys, since Felix texted me about an hour ago, saying he won’t be able to make it, I invited a friend of mine so I hope that’s ok with you.“ Toast announces when the majority of us have accumulated in the lobby.

“Yeah, all cool. An introduction to them would be nice though.“ Charlie says, tampering with his avatar’s appearance on the in-game laptop.

“Oh, I’m sure she can do that herself.” He says with a bit of a chuckle, “Y/N?“

“I’m here, I’m here.“

My gaze moves from my chat to the monitor displaying the game in an instant as though it would reveal to me who the owner of this unfamiliar voice that just travelled through my headphones is. You know how my voice is considerably deep, yeah well this girl’s voice is six feet below that. My eyes have widened without me even noticing as I hurry to unmute myself despite being a little late to the reaction party which already consists of a ton of ‘OMG’s and “WHOA”s from the rest of the people in the call. Not one of them, however, considers to question the authenticity of the voice.

“Was that a voice changer or something?“ I say, my eyebrows shooting up when I hear the laugh I receive in response to the question - a sound so deep but simultaneously sweet and girly it messes with my head.

“I wish I kept count so I could tell you which number on the list of people who’ve asked me that you fall under.“ The girl, Y/N replies, “But for the record no, it’s not a voice changer.“

Realizing how hypocritical this question probably seems coming from me, I decide to believe her - probably cause she gets nothing if she lies anyways. “Oh, so this is how it feels hearing my voice for the first time, huh?“ I say, slowly nodding my head, still in slight disbelief.

“Yeah, meeting her was quite rattling - in the best way possible though.“ I say, fixating myself back in reality following the little trip back in time to the day Y/N and I met. “She’s now one of my best friends so that should tell you enough.“

It goes without saying that, since she’s my best friend, I know her quite well. That being said, with the detailed knowledge I have on her, I can guess she’s gonna be in for a massive hangover when she wakes up. I just hope she texts me when she does so I can make sure she’s at least semi-functional. Just then, my phone buzzes with a message. Much to my shock, it’s a message from Y/N. Truth be told, I didn’t expect her to be up for another hour or two or three but here she is, sending a simple text that reads:

“My head’s pounding like a drum mid rock n’ roll concert“

There are no emojis accompanying the message, suggesting she’s deadly serious and in quite a bit of pain. Ok, I won’t sugarcoat it - she’s in a fuck-load of pain right now.

“The Sleeping Beauty has awaken and is complaining about a headache, just in case you were wondering.“ I chuckle seemingly nonchalantly as I silently contemplate whether to text her back or call her instead. Who’s gonna know better than my viewers, after all... “You guys think I should call her? Or would that annoy her?“ I ask, furrowing my brows at the chat as I see different responses coming in.

Meh, fuck it - I think to myself, already taking my phone to call Y/N when the support of my viewers floods in as well.

She picks up after two rings, letting out a sound that sets the tone for the discomfort she’s in.

“Hello to you too.“ I say, putting the call on speaker so my mic can pick up her responses. “Would you please rate the pain you’re in right now on a scale 1-10?“

“A hundred.“ Her strained, raspy and deeper than usual voice comes through, stealing a chuckle from me, “I’m hungover and still a bit drunk. Like, how does that even work?“

“The morning after is a straight-up bitch. Welcome to the world of bad decisions.“ I tell her compassionately, low-key wishing I could go over to her place and provide her with at least a tiny bit of comfort, as much as I can.

“Yeah...“ she sighs halfway dramatically, “Anyhow, we usually text around this time, what’s up with the call?“

“Just wanted to make sure my best-girl wasn’t really dying, you know. Who am I supposed to annoy in Among Us if you’re not there, after all?” I raise my brow and, although she can’t see me, I bet she can probably guess I’m doing that.

“Whatever...“ The same way I can imagine her rolling her eyes while smiling as she said that, “Tell me this, am I wrong or was I supposed to be on your stream today?“

I barely manage to hold in my laughter at the question, “Uh, yeah you were, but...” she doesn’t let me finish my sentence, instead cuts me of:

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, Corpse! I totally forgot. Believe me, if I could roll my ass out of bed I’d hop in but I really can’t. Unless you want me to be a bore for an hour and a half, that is.“

“For starters, you could never be a bore to me.“ I say matter-of-factly, “And for seconds, you’re kinda on the stream anyway...“

“Come again?“ She cuts me off yet again, “You’re calling me mid-stream? If so, hey everyone! Sorry I couldn’t join, I promise to make it up to both you and Corpse soon.“ A yawn comes from her end before she continues, “As of now, I think I’ll go back to sleep.“

“Alright, alright. I’ll call you again later to make sure you’re still alive. Sleep tight.“ I tell her, already hovering my thumb over the ‘Hang up‘ button.

“Won’t let the hangover bite.“ She slurs/murmurs, stealing my opportunity to end the call cause she does it herself.

I stare at my phone for a second, finally becoming aware of the grin that has spread across my face. Eventually, I address my viewers once again, “There you have it, guys. Technically, you can give her a pass for answering the call, especially in her current state, so let’s all agree to not hold this against her, cool?“

A brief look at my chat shows me the ton of fluffy comments that are coming in as a reaction to the interaction Y/N and I just had. One, however, sticks out especially. It reads: ‘You like her or smt?’

“Do I like Y/N?“ I read the comment out loud, a smirk coming across my face, “Of course I do. She’s a darling.“ If I had a webcam on I’d look straight into the lens and wink. That’s probably spark more than enough rumors, but at the very least they wouldn’t be wrong. “I’ve stalled enough, Outlast is waiting.“ I announce, finally starting the game. After all, it cannot be scarier than the conspiracies my fans could come up with. I get it though - from their perspective, we’re already the perfect couple; from my perspective we’re impossible because from Y/N’s perspective we’re best friends.

Ain’t that how it always goes?

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longitud-de-onda · 4 years

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piece of your heart, pt. 2

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; the morning after finding out what javier says, you go into work. rating; t warnings; talk of being drunk and bad decisions regarding sexual relations with others, brief mention of eating disorders and alcoholism word count; 2.4k

part one

You enter the embassy and head straight to your desk. You know there’s a conversation waiting to happen, but you don’t want to do it this early. One short night of sleep hasn’t been enough to process everything; you could barely work through the words Javier had said, let alone how he had asked you to dance.

How he had groped you on the dance floor.

How you had liked it.

Javier’s office is along the way to your desk and you make a point to look straight ahead, hoping he won’t notice you.

“Y/N,” calls a voice, absent of all energy. You turn, caught.

You backtrack your steps and stop at the door to Javier’s office. His sunglasses are on and his head is propped up by his arm on the desk.

“Hey, Javi,” you say. You lean against the doorframe, keeping part of your body hidden.

The memory of him puking all over the sidewalk the night before is enough of an explanation for his appearance today. He must be incredibly hungover. You know you would be. It’d been a long time since you’d been that drunk.

“I wanted to say thank you,” he says. “For last night.”

“It’s no big deal, you would have done the same,” you say. That much you know to be true. Javier might not give a shit about anyone’s emotions, but he sure as hell cares about the welfare of everyone he knew. He would probably even risk his pride to show up sheepishly at the hospital for Stechner if things got bad enough.

“You’ve been distant lately,” he says. He pulls off his sunglasses and winced at the light before continuing. “I honestly wouldn’t have expected you to help.”

Ouch.

You had been avoiding him, that was true. But only because it had gotten to the point where being with him hurt. Especially when he would throw every secretary in the embassy the wicked grin that would send them home thinking about him. You had been distant because you cared too much. Not because you had stopped caring.

You lower your voice and look down at your feet, almost too embarrassed now to say anything. “I still care about you, Javi. You were—it was bad. You needed help.”

Your heart is pounding. You need to bring up what he had said. Let him know you knew. He hadn’t brought it up yet and that worries you.

Maybe he doesn’t want you to know what he said.

“Well, regardless, I don’t remember anything between my second shot of tequila and vomiting outside, but your kindness saved me. I felt like shit... still do.”

He doesn’t remember? Anything?

“I’m sorry you had to deal with me,” he continues, speaking slowly. It looks like every word made his head hurt a bit more. “I know I’m talkative when drunk, say things I don’t mean. I hope I didn’t say anything embarrassing.”

“I, um.” Shit. He didn’t just not remember. He didn’t mean a word. You blinked back some tears and stared straight at the teal wall behind him. “No idea what you said. It was all Spanish. All night long.”

“Oh.” Javier looks back down at his desk.

This hurts more than it should. You had been so happy last night, knowing that he had felt the same way about you. You let yourself believe, if only for a few moments, that you had a chance.

You can’t keep talking to him. Not today.

“See you around, Peña,” you say, turning to leave.

You get about fifteen steps away when he calls you back again.

“Wait, Y/N!”

You go back to the door.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“Javi, I—no,” you exhale. This is too much. You should have known the second you read those words in the dictionary that it was all too good to be true. And Javier isn’t to blame, you are. You knew he was drunk. He didn’t have any control of his mouth, and you still believed it.

Your mind wanders back to his hands. Those hands that moved around your back, that grabbed your ass, that palmed your breast. Did he mean those too? Or was that really just him reverting to who he was when drunk. The Javier you knew would set his eyes on some young thing and take her home. Were you supposed to be that girl?

“So why are you acting so distant all of a sudden?” Javier asks. Something darker crosses over his eyes. “Did I—did I do something last night?”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, clearing the tears. You can feel the ghost of his hand on your chest and you want to tell him.

“Like you said,” you say instead, “you didn’t mean anything.”

It pains you to say it. And Javier sees right through you.

“Did I hurt you?” he breathes. His eyes are wide and you know his mind was racing with all sorts of possibilities.

You don’t want to think about the fact that he’s worried for a good reason. Worried because he knows that when he doesn’t have control, there’s a real possibility he would hurt someone. And you know he wouldn’t. Not with you. Not intentionally.

“No.” You shake your head. “Nothing like that. You—Javi, it was stupid and not really important. And it’s probably better to have this conversation when you’re not hungover.”

You turn to leave again. This conversation has taken more of a toll on you than should be allowed before work. You don’t know how you’re going to focus. Your mind is swimming and all you can see is the blurry blue of Javier’s office’s walls.

“Y/N, please tell me,” he says, his voice wavering.

You know he wouldn’t be pleading with you if he didn’t care. If he didn’t mean things, at least he wants to ensure he hadn’t hurt you. You can tell he is scared. Scared he had done something.

You imagine being him, no memory of the night before, the only one who seemingly is able to explain withdrawing on him.

“Please don’t disappear on me,” he says.

You feel the tug at your heart and you turn back, stepping inside his office this time and closing the door.

What can you say? How can you explain everything he did? Everything you felt?

“We, um, you—you asked me to dance,” you say.

Javier looks surprised. “So?”

“And we did,” you say. “And you were a bit, I don’t know? You?”

You regret those words as soon as you see the look on his face. You hadn’t seen him looking so scared, so guilty, in all the years you’d known him.

He reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, exhaling.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

It’s so much worse than you could have imagined because Javier’s thinking about how he is when he dances when drunk. And you’ve seen it before.

You’ve watched from the sidelines, tears hot in the corners of your eyes as you sipped a drink. He’d done it many times before, pulling some girl into his arms as he would grind up against her and her tiny frame. He’d have her half undressed in his arms as he practically had sex with her on the dance floor, only to invite her home to finish it off.

He did it for the same reason you all had a vice. Steve had his violent outbursts. You knew another guy in the DEA who would never admit it, but smoked marijuana. There was a CIA agent who spent his weekends out in the jungle, shooting at almost any living thing. You spent all your spare money on stupid trinkets and makeup and little things you’d never use during long trips to malls and markets. Some people ate their feelings. Some people didn’t eat at all. Some people drank. Many more smoked. A lot. It’s all so you can forget the things you’re forced to do.

Down here in Colombia, there are no good guys. That much you learned in the first few weeks. You have to either find a way to forgive yourself or numb yourself enough so you don’t feel the guilt.

Javier’s way of doing that just has the side effect of making you feel like your heart is ripped in half every night.

And he’s sitting at his desk, looking horrified as his mind races with the thoughts of what you could have meant. You wish you could snatch the words out of the air just so he doesn’t look as conflicted as he does now.

“No, no, no,” you backtrack. “That, the dancing, it was fine. It was...good. You were just—do you really not remember any of it?”

You want him to remember what he said. Even if he didn’t mean it. It would make this easier. You wouldn’t be stuck reliving his hips rolling up against yours in the warm night, his deep voice growling words you didn’t know into your ear.

“No, Y/N,” he says. “It’s all blurry.”

You wish it was all blurry for you. The details of the night are surprisingly sharp for having happened while tipsy. You remember the hot skin on his neck, beads of sweat dripping as you swayed amongst the crowd. The warm glow of the lights casting soft shadows across his face. His hands on your hips, pulling you in again and again.

The words passing through his lips: ‘te quiero.’

“You... you.” You’re looking up at Javier and your vision is faded. Hot tear trails line your cheeks as you realize how much this conversation has ruined you.

How do you tell someone that they said they loved you? How do you tell someone that they’re breaking your heart?

In a cruel way, it almost makes sense. Of course, you wouldn’t get a happy ending from this. You don’t deserve one. None of you do. You all do horrible things. They might be permissible to the government, but anyone with morals knows you walk along the fine line that separates the law enforcers from the breakers. It’s a life that doesn’t get to end smiling alongside a significant other.

“Fuck, Y/N, please, you’re scaring me,” Javier says, standing up from his desk. “What did I do?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? What did he do? What didn’t he do?

What didn’t he feel?

You know you’re about to let the tears break over. Break down into sobs in front of Javier. And you know it’s not because of him. You’re at your limit. There’s a point at which someone cannot take more suppression of their own feelings. And you have just hit it.

There are two options in which you boil over, and number one, curling into a sobbing mess, isn’t the most dignified one. Number two is not much better but there’s nothing else.

You take a deep breath.

“Javi, I’ve liked you for a long damn time, and last night, you were—you were dancing and talking and you said some things, said that you liked me,” you admit. It is out now. You look down to avoid seeing Javier’s immediate reaction. You don’t want to see rejection so soon. “And I was—stupidly—happy. And I know obviously I shouldn’t, because that’s rule number one here, and I know you didn’t mean it, so forgive me if I can’t really handle this right now, I don’t want you to fuck with my emotions any more so I’d really like to forget it all.”

In the end, choosing option two isn’t keeping you from option one, as it takes every bit of energy left to remain standing as your face heats with the tears and you sniffle through your last sentence.

You glance up at Javier, finally getting a look at his reaction. His face is almost blank, except his lower lip, tucked between his teeth, and his brows which are ever so slightly furrowed. He doesn’t say a word.

You know what this means. You wipe your eyes with the sleeves of your shirt. It must look terrible, but you’re past the point of caring.

“I’m gonna leave,” you say, trying to keep your voice stable. “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other for a while. I need to forget you.”

Your heart feels like it’s being crushed and you know it’s your own fault. You’ve really dug yourself into a hole over the years.

“Wait!” Javier runs around his desk, grabbing your arm to stop you from opening the door. He swings you around to face him.

You’re breathing heavily, and are aware of the deep rise and fall of your chest, inches from where Javier stands. You look into his eyes and there’s a softness that you know Javier doesn’t usually hold.

“I don’t remember what I said,” he starts, “But if I said that? I meant it.”

Fuck. Okay.

“And I don’t remember what happened last night, but I hope I didn’t do anything to push you away,” he says.

Trust Javier to put your emotions on a plane ride through a lighting storm. You want to kiss him, hug him, something. But you’re stuck in the shock of it all.

“You weren’t supposed to ever know,” he says. “It’s not supposed to happen. You know that. I thought if you knew, I’d lose you. I wouldn’t ever get to see you in the capacity I’ve been lucky enough to get to.”

He’s right. None of this is allowed. But despite that, it’s happening.

You focus on his hand, holding your arm. You want to pull him in. But you can’t. Not with all the windows in this office. The whole embassy can’t know. And they don’t deserve to.

“You didn’t push me away,” you say, “I wouldn’t ever want to lose you either.”

“You said I was only speaking Spanish?” he asks.

“Um, yeah,” you smile, breaking eye contact to stare at the ground. “I remembered a few things. Looked them up when I got home.”

“What did I say?”

“Well, I only got a few of the many sentences,” you say. “I thought you were saying something suggestive the whole time. You were grinding up against me.”

You glanced up at Javier, whose cheeks were turning a bit red. You were lucky the room was soundproof. You both knew you couldn’t move any closer. This was your alternative.

“You kept talking into my ear, and your hands were running down my back. You said you wanted to be alone with me. That you wanted to kiss me.”

You stared into Javier, saw the shadow of arousal in his eyes, and grinned.

“Then when I thought it couldn’t get any better, you pulled me in close and said ‘Te quiero.’”

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest @turquiosenights @el-lizzie @spookyold-saintjm @fleurdemiel145 @murdermewithbooks @winters-buck

#javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #camila writes #rated t #under 5 #reader #angst #pedro fics #narcos fics #javi x reader

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caps-lockdown · 5 years

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Sweater Weather Part Five

Here’s the next installment! Enjoy!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!PottsRelativeReader!

Words: 4,047

WARNING THIS CHAPTER IS PRETTY STEAMY AND IS AS CLOSE TO SMUT AS I’LL BE WRITING FOR THIS FIC. Reader discretion is advised! Warnings/Ratings: R/Possible 18+ For more flirty and sexy! Steve Rogers, mentions of booze, language, a TON of flirting/adult situations. You’ve been warned, the temperature isn’t the only thing hot in this chapter! Reader discretion is advised.

Also AU in the fact NO ONE DIED during Endgame/Steve didn’t go back. Also as much as I adore Morgan Stark, she isn’t around yet. I didn’t know where this would fit timeline wise, so just ignore the timeline. Kay? Cool.

Summary: You’ve just moved to New York after a long 3 year stint travelling the world and helping with various charities, taking a new job with Stark Industries thanks to your cousin Pepper. A trip out to surprise Tony and The Avengers for the weekend turns from good to terrible when the a/c at the compound breaks. How will you beat the heat for the record breaking weekend?

In Y/N Y/L/N format, I don’t own any gifs, outfits or characters except for the Reader and her friend Kate. No beta so I DO own all of my mistakes.

Part Five

The room was cold and the yet the first thing you noticed was the very warm arm that was draped lazily across your waist, and the heat that radiated off of whoever’s broad chest that was behind you. This isn’t right. Your eyes were too heavy with the hangover that was flooding your system to open, but you managed to force your body to turn over. You were pretty sure you were giving molasses on a cold day a run for its money with how slow you shifted your weight, finally facing the sleeping person after what felt like eons. Who the fuck is in my bed?

You swam through your memories from last night, your eyes darting behind your eyelids in panic as you couldn’t remember anything past Thor helping you to your room. Oh shit. Thor is in my bed?! You brought your shaking hands up to his chest. Wait. Hardly any chest hair. Doesn’t Thor have some? You cursed internally, not having seen most of the guys shirtless in well over three years so you couldn’t actually guess. You were going to have to just deal with the budding migraine and open your damn eyes. Sunlight be damned.

You went into cardiac arrest the minute you cracked an eye open to find Steve-Fucking-God-Damn-Captain America-Rogers sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of how his flexing arm was pulling you into him closer. This had to be a dream.

“Um….Steve?” You whispered, poking the sleeping soldier hard with your index finger, a small huff from the man who was violating your space being the only response you were given. “Steve, wake the HELL up!” A sleepy smile graced his features, the blonde snuggling you closer and putting both arms around you.

“I’m having that dream again.” Your body fully awoke at his soft statement, and you almost wanted to let him sleep, thinking it really sweet that you had plagued his sleep as much as he had yours over the time you had spent apart. “You’re so perfect. Y/N.” A beam of a smile swept over your features, allowing your hands to remain on his chest and resting your head against it, taking him in and hearing his heartbeat. This felt amazing. It just felt right.

That ended within five seconds of his large hands dropping from your waist, roughly latching onto your ass. The not polite and none too subtle squeeze of his digits into your soft flesh set you promptly the fuck off.

“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” You voice was shrill as you let out your loud screech. Your heart threatened to burst from its cavity as you pushed him hard, the good Captain jerking his eyes awake with a groan and staring down into your pissed off facial features.

“OH SHIT!” Steve launched himself off your bed and onto the hard floor with a loud thud, his eyes adjusting to the room and realizing he was in fact, not in his bedroom like he had thought previously the evening before when he drunkenly forced his way into it. “Y/N I can explain…”

“I DON’T WANT AN EXPLANATION, I WANT YOU OUT!” You cried, grabbing your pillows and throwing them in an assault on the equally hungover, but not quite awake blonde man, him scrambling to his feet and running a hand over his face.

“Doll I didn’t mean…”

“Rogers if you are not out of my room in the next FIVE seconds I will start screaming for Tony.” You handed him the ultimatum with clenched teeth, the target of your frustration chuckling nervously as he gave a timid nod.

“I’ll go but I want you to know something.” Your left eye twitched at the nerve of this man. Coming into YOUR room while you were asleep, and CUDDLING with you?! That you could deal with just fine. Quite willingly, actually. But you would NOT stand for being groped in your bed, no matter how much you had craved his hands on you before. It wasn’t right, and you were not an easy piece of ass. Not to mention the initial shock of him even being in your bed, shirtless, was enough to freak you out. What if you two had done something? Your mind was reeling at the thought. There is no way you would have and not remembered. “I’m not sorry.”

Your ears were burning, much like the rest of your face as you sputtered, “W….What?”

He sighed, blonde hair falling in his face. His blue eyes held a sense of insecurity in them as he stared at your figure, his own breath caught as you appeared to look breathless yourself. “Waking up next to you is something I never thought I’d get to do again, so regardless of the how,” A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before he forced it away, “I am not going to apologize for finally getting to hold you while we slept in a bed instead of a couch. I won’t apologize for having the best night of sleep I’ve had in years because for a moment it felt right having you in my arms. Not once. Not ever. I’m not sorry.”

You sat, staring at him slack jawed as he turned his back and simply walked out of your room.

Kate’s number was punched into your phone without you looking, you nearly in tears as she happily answered. “Hey beautiful! You finally get some super dick last night?”

“Kate I think I fucked up. Big time.” Your conversation was muted through the door, Steve leaning against it with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had the night on repeat in his brain, trying to gauge if he had done anything unforgivable in his drunken slumber. Not counting this morning of course. He had honest to god thought it was a dream, believing whole heartedly that your frame laying next to his was nothing more than a ghost. A vision he never got to see come true. He never would have reacted that way if he had known the truth. Steve Rogers was NOT that guy. He could sense the panic in your voice an assumed you had no idea what had happened after you had gotten to your room. Rightly so he’d imagine, with all of the drinks you had consumed. He knew you weren’t really mad at him, but all he could do was give you space. He turned his head to the right, seeing Nat’s door open. A very guilty looking James Barnes emerged, his eyes wide as if Steve had grown a third head when he looked to see the man sharing the hallway with him. Steve grinned, arms crossing over his shoulders.

“Good morning pal. Sleep well?”

“Could ask you the same thing. Punk.” The former man shook his head, his face changing into one of sadness as he tried to make out your nervous and upset sentences from between layers of wood. “Damn. Tell me on the way to breakfast?”

The two began their walk of shame towards the kitchen, filling each other in on what exactly had and hadn’t happened the night prior. You hung up with Kate, dragging your body out of bed, figuring out how (with the help from Kate of course) you would let the man who you had kicked out know you would never be doing that again.

~~After Breakfast~~

“Jesus I thought it was hot before.” Sam muttered, Bucky and Steve both nodding dumbly in agreement as they watched from the large window overlooking the expansive patch of green grass outside the compound. Nat, Pepper, and now Carol Danvers, who had brought a very adorable kid by the name of Peter Parker to the compound to ask Tony some very important questions about upgrades to his suit, had taken to sunbathing. In bikinis.

“You gonna be alright when Y/N comes out in a few?” Bucky side eyed his oldest friend, the man glaring at him as he lightly shoved his non flesh arm. “Or are we gonna have to put you back on ice to cool down?”

“I’ll be just…” His voice died in the back of his throat as he saw your figure step out onto the lawn in your very curve fitting blue bikini.

His ragged breath betrayed him to his two friends, his eyes glued to the sway of your hips barely covered in the fabric. He had to advert his gaze, but only for a second when you bent over at the waist, gladly accepting the glass of sweet tea Pepper held out for you from her chair. The curve of your backside, the very same one he had managed to literally snag handfuls of this morning taunted him as you chose to lay down on your stomach on your own lawn chair, unaware of his heated stare. When Tony lightly misted your beautiful frame with tanning oil, your body jerking at the sudden coolness he felt his throat go bone dry. This just wasn’t fair.

“You were saying Rogers?” Sam chuckled at Steve’s sudden silence, the super soldier hearing nothing but his own blood pounding in his ears. “Can’t say I blame ya though, Princess Peach is looking particularly ripe and juicy today. Right Barnes?”

The brunette gave an appreciative whistle, “Very true Wilson, I agree.” His eyes weren’t looking at you though, they were gawking at a certain red head’s tight black bikini clad body. The three men collectively groaned as Tony ruined their perving session, outing them to the four women, who in turn sat up and stared disappointedly. Your scowl turned into a smirk when the two of you locked eyes. Well shit. “I guess we better start working on our apologies fellas.”

“That requires us to feel guilty first.” Sam shot out, none of them paying attention to Peter as he rushed outside with a new pitcher of tea for the ladies. They didn’t miss Pepper barely missing Tony’s face with her palm when he attempted to untie the string holding up her bikini top on her neck. At least he would be in the dog house with them. “Let’s go, Stark is outnumbered and unarmed, time to level the playing field.”

“What are we playing?” Thor asked, sidling up to the trio who began their trek to the large door that lead outside, Sam starting to take off his shirt.

“We’re setting a thirst trap Blondie, beating the women at their own game.” He tossed his shirt carelessly to the side, the other three quickly understanding and stripping themselves of their tops. “Now act like you aren’t sorry for getting caught Rogers. Y/N has already led on she can barely restrain herself around you. She told me she feels awful for kicking you out of her bed this morning. Just turn on the charm and she’ll be on you like a koala bear.”

“Easy for you to say Sam, you didn’t shamelessly grab her ass this morning because you thought you were dreaming.” The door opened and instantly Steve wanted to crawl back into the less sticky air of the compound living room.

“True, but did she once tell you to stop?” Before he could respond to his friends query, you had taken the chance at straddling your chair, your eyes glazing over at the sight of the shirtless men as they walked, no strutted into your field of vision. Sweet Jesus three years had passed and they only managed to look even more delicious. Aged like fine wine. Steve’s abs had beads of sweat clinging to them, and you would kill to have been the reason for them instead of the hot as balls weather. He was beautiful, strong shoulders and those powerful arms you had woken up in almost daring you to wind yourself back into them. You bit your lower lip as he imitated your previous smirk with ease. This just wasn’t fair.

“Good afternoon ladies, fine weather we’re having huh?” Bucky said cheerfully, the four women sending him a mixture of mock glares and middle fingers. “Wow why the hostility?”

“You were gawking at us earlier, sorry if we aren’t happy to see you.” Carol’s voice was plain and flat, the winter soldier’s smile only widening at Nat’s eyes sweeping over him the same way he had done to her just moment before stepping outside.

“That isn’t stopping you from staring at us now, is it?” He retorted.

Carol huffed, turning to stare at the fabric of her chair instead of the four shirtless gods. Peter looked confused but chose to say nothing. Tony just chuckled at the double standard of it all. You crossed your arms under your chest, trying to keep your knowing smile at bay when Steve’s gaze dropped to your assets as they were gently lifted in your bikini top. “My eyes are up here Cap.”

“Wasn’t looking at em Doll.” Steve offered lowly, your body heating up as he brazenly continued his visual appraisal of your figure. It was like all of the blood in your body had turned into liquid fire, and you barely contained a shiver as he moved to place his hands on either side of your chair, giving you flash backs to when he had dropped you on the couch a couple of nights previously.

“Well at least you’re honest.” You whispered, swallowing as he leaned down, face in front of yours, his expression dark and god damn he was going to pay dearly for all of this teasing later. “Something on your mind Rogers?” You cooed.

“I thought I warned you about your shorts getting any shorter Sweetheart.” His voice had come out as a deep growl, the rumble from his chest making your head spin and you went to grip the metal frame of the chair in response to his seductive statement. With every word you were beginning to kick yourself even harder for not jumping his ass this morning. “Might just have to teach you a lesson about what happens when you don’t listen.”

“That a threat? Or a promise?” You whispered back, eyes never leaving his.

Tony’s gagging sounds in the background reminded the two of you that you weren’t alone.

“Seriously you two, go get a fucking room already. I think m’gonna be sick.” You rolled your eyes at your dramatic cousin in law, Peter stifling a laugh at the absurdity of his mentor’s exaggerated heaving motions. Steve leaned up from the chair, shaking his head and sitting his fine ass down on the grass.

“So, how are we going to beat this heat Mister Stark?” Peter’s question stopped the older man’s performance, Tony standing up straight and looking at his nails.

“Any bright ideas Y/N?”

You already had six by the end of breakfast.

~~Later~~

“Y/N, you are an absolute GENIUS!” Nat exclaimed happily on your right, you looking at your masterpiece of the weekend. A couple of tarps, some bungee cords and a garden hose later you had turned the bed of your truck into a redneck pool.

“Yea Short Stack, amazing job. Now move over.” You stared at your cousin as if he was crazy, Tony taking a small step backwards. “I mean…ladies first?”

“Better. You heard the man, ladies.” The four of you hurriedly climbed into the truck bed, happy sighs of contentment leaving your mouths as you sunk into the cooling liquid. The plastic from the tarp was something you’d have to get used to feeling on your skin, but otherwise you were in complete bliss. The men looked upset as they realized there was really only enough room for one more body. “Now who are we gonna let join us?”

“Well it’s my tarp.” Tony started.

“But you’ve been an asshole all weekend, Stark.” Sam cut in.

“I’d like to nominate myself, as I am the best looking male here.” Bucky added, the women laughing and forcing the man to pout.

“I think you need to get your eyes checked Pal.” Steve said with a roll of his eyes.

“I’m not going to suggest any one of us, it’s entirely up to you goddesses to decide.” Thor smiled warmly at you, your heart melting only slightly. “But I might add that Bruce would not be a suitable option if you want your truck to remain intact.”

“Yea where is Banner?” Nat asked, and everyone in the group looked wrecked with guilt, having not seen the giant man since earlier that morning. “Seriously? How did we lose Bruce?”

“I’m sure he’s somewhere,” You waved away the worry, putting your eyes on Peter who stood staring at his feet. “Parker, you’re in.”

The excited teen didn’t need to be told a second time, scrambling up into the back of the truck with all the gusto raging hormones could buy. He smiled brightly, muttering “Thank you” and “You guys are so nice” repeatedly as he sat on the edge, plunging his feet into the soothing water.

“Fine. I see how it is. We’ll just make our own club and you won’t be invited!” Tony huffed, crossing his arms like a toddler and pouting. It fell on deaf ears, the five of you in the truck paying him no mind as you started splashing at each other. “Let’s go guys.”

The time flew by as you enjoyed your friend’s company, and you quickly had taken a major liking to Peter. He was like a younger brother, super sweet and engaging, and quite the amazing listener. You were a bit put off at first hearing just how he knew the team, feeling the need to protect him as he recalled stories of the battles he had been a part of. Especially during the accords situation. You heart pounded with concern as he told you about Thanos, and all of the features on his suit Tony had made him. You’d never tell but you were more than relieved to hear of the “instant kill” function your cousin had put into it.

“Well we might as well let the guys have a turn now that we’re legit becoming prunes.” Carol conceded, the rest of you agreeing and standing up from the water. It was still stupid hot outside, and truthfully you were feeling a bit bad at not allowing the guys to join you earlier. Or at the very least take turns.

“I’m thirsty, someone come with me to get some drinks from the kitchen?” You inquired, stretching your limbs before beginning your descent out of the back of your vehicle.

“I’ll go with you miss Y/N!” Peter piped up, clamoring after you. You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness to accompany you, suspecting that being someone new meant for new conversations. You’d never been happier to have your ear talked off before, but this kid was easily becoming your favorite.

“Huh, that’s weird. They aren’t in here.” Your statement came out confused upon entering the empty living room area, the fans and coolers mostly missing. “Where the hell did they all go?”

“Shh miss Y/N, you hear that?” Your eyes met Peter’s and he motioned towards the kitchen, where you could hear the faint deep laughter of Steve and Thor. Tiptoeing into the large kitchen, you were once again met with an empty room, your expression puzzled when you looked back at the teen who shrugged. “I know we heard…look!”

He moved to look at the small sign that was haphazardly taped to the large door leading to the walk in freezer of the compound, the messy writing no doubt the byproduct of your cousin.

“He-Man-Woman-Hater-Freezer. How original.” You let out an exasperated sigh at the lengths these childish men would go to. “They’ll get over it.”

You threw the door open to see the small group of men sitting among the floor of the freezer, Tony and Sam wearing a few more layers of clothes, the rest of the inhabits still shirtless and looking super pleased with themselves.

“Hey Short Stack can’t you read?!” Tony glared at you, Steve unable to keep his eyes in his head at your figure gracing his presence again. “You aren’t welcome here! Be gone! Before someone drops a house on you!”

“Stop being so damn dramatic Snark, we were just wondering where you went off to. We’ve decided to let you all take a dip in the pool I built, if any of you were still interested.”

“Well thanks but we don’t need your second rate pool…” Tony began, looking betrayed shortly after as Sam and Thor moved to join you. “What the fuck guys?”

“Hey, watch your damn mouth! There’s a teenager here!” You retorted in mock shock, moving to cover Peter’s ears who only laughed lightly. “Did you find Bruce?”

“Obviously not. Do you see him in here?” Sam asked, squeezing past you to take off his clothing in preparation to heading back into the heat wave. “I bet ten bucks he chickened out and ran off to find a/c.”

“You owe me ten bucks then Wilson.” The familiar voice of Bruce Banner boomed through the freezer, and all of your eyes came to rest upon a rather large pile of bagged and frozen vegetables. A large grin broke your face as you noticed an out of place green toe sticking out from under a bag of broccoli. “Also, you guys smell horrible. Make sure you shower before you taint Y/N’s hard work with your nasty man stench.”

“Thank you, but I’m sooooo calling you Jolly Green Giant from now on.” Laughter rose out of you when the man moved the container of carrots off his eyes to narrow them at you, you batting your eyelashes innocently.

“Alright well I don’t know about you suckers but I’m gonna go get in that pool!” Sam brought everyone back to earth, the rest of the guys clearing out and following Parker out to the grounds. Your hand went to grab Steve’s wrist, tugging him in the opposite direction once Tony was out of your sights, dragging the man with you until you were both standing in front of the door that led to your room.

“Somethin on your mind Y/N?” His voice was soft as you tried to steel your nerves, your pulse erratic. You had talked with Kate about what you were going to say when you finally got this beautiful man alone, but now that the moment was here you were back to being the uncertain mess you had been all weekend. “Sweetheart? You’re making me nervous here.”

Seeing the same insecurity in his stunning blue eyes that made your heart hurt when you kicked him out of your room that morning pushed all of your words out the nearest window.

“Oh screw it.” You admonished, quickly putting your arms around his neck and pulling Steve’s lips to yours. He was quick to the jump, arms wrapping around you and walking you backwards until you were against your door, smiling into the kiss and making your knees weak. You pushed all of your emotions into it, the years of longing and passion bruising both of your lips as he deepened the kiss, returning the mutual feelings with a reckless abandon. Kissing him was everything you had been dreaming over the years, his lips pillow soft as they nipped at your bottom lip, tongue darting out to meet yours in a languid dance. It was perfect, he was perfect.

A deep groan fell out from his throat when he detached his mouth from yours, moving along your jaw line and peppering kisses along the column of your neck. “Doll you are going to be the death of me.” You moaned at his hot whisper against your skin, feeling him smirk into your shoulder. You couldn’t agree with him more.

“We don’t have much time before I have to help Pepper with dinner. Maybe an hour, hour and a half tops.” You got out heatedly as he continued his assault on your neck, hands moving across your body and leaving a searing fire in their absence.

“Then let’s not waste anymore time.” He growled, pulling on the handle behind you and pushing you through the door, your giggles fading into moans as he kicked it shut behind him.

Tag List: @kaytizzle @cuffski @giggleberts @pies-wands-and-more @chrisevansfanfic @yesno18 @zsuzstyina @zombiepotterfour @evanstush

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #avengers #captain america #fanfic #fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction

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sergeanttucker · 5 years

Text

Relief

Characters - Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It was always like this when they were fighting, they yelled and even threw things at each other. (first sentence of the fic, don´t have a better summary)

Warning: tiny bit of angst and fluff i guess

Word count: 1589

AN - Tell me if you like it and send me a request if you want!

It was always like this when they were fighting, they yelled and even threw things at each other.

Castiel, Sam and Jack always left the room when they quarreled, especially since the one time Sam was hit by a flying book. By now they had gotten used to the fact that (Y/N) and Dean were always arguing when they didn´t have downtime every now and then and they weren´t trying to mediate between them, it just made it worse. This time they were arguing about the hunt they had just completed.

“I told you something was wrong, but the omniscient Dean Winchester did not want to believe me, again!” She stormed through the door into the war room and dropped her bag as she walked to the table with a whiskey bottle on it. Dean, followed by Sam, stepped through the door and gave her an annoyed look as he dropped his bag and threw the key for baby on the table. The only thing he wanted to do was take a shower and cuddle up with his girl in bed … he was tired, really tired and he didn´t feel like arguing, but somehow it was the nature of their relationship to do that.

“Don t blame me for that, I believed that guy, ok? He died for it!” (Y/N) gave him a bitch face after she took a sip from the Whiskey bottle. “Are you kidding me? A thing isn´t necessarily true because a man died for it! You should know that by now!” She was angry at him, not because he was wrong but because he never listened to her.

Sam only rolled his eyes and left the room, probably to take a shower and go to bed but neither (Y/N) nor Dean noticed. Dean raised his hands in surrender and took his bag before walking in the direction of the bedrooms.

“You know what? I´m done. I will go to bed.” Then he was gone. (Y/N) clenched her jaw, sitting down in of the chairs in front of her, she took another sip of the whiskey and hung her head.

The last few weeks had been tough, a flood of monsters appeared out of nowhere and they still had to figure out where they came from. She knew she was a bitch lately, but with one case after another, she had no chance for a little downtime she badly needed. If it wasn´t a vampire, it was a werewolf or a ghost, or even a wendigo, and it clearly took its toll, but instead of apologizing to Dean for her behavior, she drank. A lot. Once again.

Was she an alcoholic? Well, there are people out there who would call her that, but she liked to think that it was just stress relief.

As the night progressed, she had already drunk the entire bottle, plus a beer or two. To say she was drunk would be an understatement considering she usually stayed away from strong drinks and was content with beer. During the night she had changed her position several times, for a while she sat on the floor and even under the table, why she didn´t know herself. For a while she lay on the table staring at the ceiling.

But now she was sitting in her chair with her face on the tabletop, asleep, her snoring could probably be heard in the whole bunker.

In the meantime, Dean lay wide awake in bed, he couldn´t find sleep without his girl. Usually she lay snuggled up to him, sometimes half on top of him and he could hold her in his arms. It gave him a sense of security knowing she was with him and that nothing could happen to her. He missed her warmth, how she clung to him at night and how she mumbled meaningless things in her sleep. He just could not sleep without her. He sighed and left the bed to check on her, not bothering with pants since he usually slept in boxers and a shirt.

Barefoot, he crept through the cold corridors of the bunker as quietly as possible to find her, he could see a light in the war room and entered the room where he found his girlfriend asleep. She was still dressed in the clothes she had on when they came from the hunt, she had probably tried to take off her sweater in the meantime but did not get very far because one arm was still in the sleeve while the other was already free.

He smiled at the scene in front of him, her hair lay wild around her, she was snoring and he could even see that she had started to drool in her sleep. When he saw the empty bottles around her, the smile fell from his face and gave way to a worried expression. She really needed a break, just like himself and the others. He would talk to them the next day to take a few days off to relax, God knows they all needed it.

With a few steps, he stood next to her and stroked her hair before he brought her into a more sitting position and took her bride style on his arm to carry her to the bedroom.

She stirred in her sleep and struggled a little before she recognized that it was Dean carrying her, she let out a content sigh and lay her head against his chest. "I think I vomited somewhere in this room. I don´t remember where, though.” she mumbled before pressing herself closer to his chest. He just chuckled and pressed a kiss to her head.

“Don´t worry Sweetheart, I will take care of it tomorrow.”

She made an appreciative noise, Dean just smiled and carried her on. In the bedroom, he gently laid her on the bed and began to take off her shoes, then her pants and finally the sweater in which she was stuck. He thought for a moment if he should also take off her shirt and her bra to put on her sleep shirt but he quickly dismissed the thought as the sound of her snoring hit his ears.

She looked so beautiful and so peaceful as she stretched out on the bed, he would only feel guilty if he woke her up now so he just lay down next to her and covered himself and his girl with the blanket.

(Y/N) snuggled up against his side with her face pressed in the crock of his neck, one of her hands on his chest and her leg over his, she made a satisfied sigh.

Dean put his arms around her and pressed her closer to his body. That felt right, now he can finally sleep a little bit. “I love you, Peaches.” he whispered, kissing her forehead. A soft, almost incomprehensible “I love you too” was her mumbled response. A soft smile took place on Dean´s face and didn´t left until he fell asleep, and with his girl in his arms it didn´t take long.

The next morning (Y/N) turned around in bed and stretched her arms out in search of Dean, when she found the space next to her empty, she opened her eyes and pouted a little at the realization that her boyfriend already left the bed. She felt like shit, a hungover the result of last nights activities.

The first thing she did when she got up was to take a shower and brush her teeth, she definitely threw up last night and could still taste it. After the shower she threw on a pair of shorts and one of Deans shirts before she went looking for him. She could smell something delicious all the way down the hall and followed it to the kitchen where Dean stood at the stove and prepared bacon and eggs.

She walked over to him and hugged him from behind, her forehead pressed against his back. “I´m sorry I’ve been a bitch lately….” He switched off the stove and turned around to face her. “A good morning to you too.” He took her face in his hands and stroked her cheeks.

“Do not worry about it, we’re all stressed out and need some days off, I’ve talked to the others, there’s no hunting in the next few days.” “Really?” she asked overjoyed and jumped up and down before the dull feeling in her stomach made her stop.

“Slow down Peaches, we do not want you to puke again.” he giggled at her enthusiasm and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “Tomorrow, you and I will go to one of Bobby’s cabins and spend the weekend there, just you and me.”

(Y/N) put her arms around his neck and hugged him. That’s exactly what she needed, a weekend without monsters, blood and endless research. Just the two of them and many hours filled with cuddling, bad movies and pizza. The perfect weekend.

“I love you so much.” “I love you too Peaches.” They shared a gentle kiss, then another and another. “Let’s have breakfast and then we spend the whole day in bed.”

“Sounds perfect.” After another kiss, they sat down at the table and started eating. There was a pleasant silence and only the clink of the cutlery could be heard.

“Who the hell has puked under the table? I stepped inside!”

(Y/N) and Dean looked shocked for a moment, their forks halfway to their mouths as they started to laugh. Poor Sam.

Congratulations, you made it to the end !! I´m new to the writing thing and Feedback is highly appreciated! Oh, and if your eyes are bleeding from the bad grammar, then let me know! I’m from Germany and my english is a Little rusty, so please Point out the mistakes I made. Oh, and should you have a reqeust, send me an ask!

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean fluff #dean winchester fluff #supernatural #spn #supernatural fluff #jensen ackles #jelly writes

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hyunnielix · 6 years

Text

You’re My Addiction

Jim doesn’t come home after a party and Medina rings you up asking if he’s with you.

Pairing: Jim Mason x Reader

Warnings: Slight AU, Time skip, Fluff, ANGST, Mentions of Drug Addiction & Panic Attacks

Word Count: 1.4k

The obnoxious vibrating of your phone woke you up from the pathetic six-hour sleep that had spelled you last night, or so you should say early this morning.

Rolling onto your side, you rubbed your eyes while letting out a small yawn, finally reaching for your phone that was situated on the chestnut bedside table.

The faint pounding in your head became stronger as you stared at the bright phone screen, hungover from all the alcohol you had let your body intoxicate last night while out partying with your close friend Jim.

Sliding the pick up button without checking the number you brought it up to your ear, softly mumbling a ‘who is it?’

“Hey Y/N, have you by any chance seen Jim? He hasn’t been home since last night and my parents are worried sick about it, including me,” She questioned, sounding incredibly stressed if you had to guess her parents were probably fighting again. You knew how exhausting they could be, especially when they didn’t realise how their toxic relationship affected their struggling teenage kids.

Sitting up in your position, you began to recount everything that had happened during the party trying to remember where Jim might’ve fled off to. Unfortunately, it was useless as your mind was too hazy from the poison called alcohol you had let enter your body.

“The last time I saw Jim was at the party around two,” You explained, running your fingers through your hair sighing loudly. He was probably in one of his reckless moods again he tended to get like that after drinking. You usually always looked out for him, now hearing that the one time you didn’t he was in trouble made you feel more than guilty.

“I’ve been calling him all morning and he won’t pick up,” Medina muttered into the phone unable to fix the situation herself without the help of adults which she desperately needed since her parents acted like three-year-olds, you’d seen it first hand.

“Look, I’ll be over straight away okay? We’ll find him together,” You promised, burying your face into your hands exhaustedly before hanging up.

You had rushed over to the Masons’ household once you found out Jim hadn’t made his way home from after the party. Currently, the family separation had impacted not just Medina but him in a devastating way. He had turned to drugs and his parents were completely oblivious too caught up in their own hellfire to protect their only son.

Tapping your foot against the lacquered wooden flooring, you awaited Medina to return to her room which you were currently situated in.

The cut-out surfing magazines that clung to the walls of her room took your mind off the situation at hand. Hearing the almost violent crashing of the waves from outside her window helped calm your nerves unprepared for the news.

Footsteps clicked against the floor until it reached the door, swinging the door open carelessly, you were met with your best friend looking more dishevelled than ever.

“Y/N We need to go now,” Medina exclaimed, entering the room while frantically inhaling, her tear stained cheeks had already explained to you what was happening.

Abruptly, she collapsed onto the floor letting out choked sobs, jumping off the bed you sat next to her wrapping your arm around her and rubbing her back comfortingly just like you did with Jim.

“What happened? Is he okay?” You asked softly while furrowing your brows in the process, brushing her wavy blonde hair out of her face you attempted to calm her down in the best way possible whilst trying to prevent yourself from suffering a panic attack as well.

“H-He’s In the hospital, it was an overdose, I-,” She sniffled, closing her eyes shut while she wiped the transparent tears away refusing to look you in the eye.

Your breath hitched, blinking rapidly you tried to hold down the tears and cheer your best friend up as that was more important than your own emotions.

“We have to go see him now, p-please,” Medina stuttered, gathering herself together and brushing her clothes off before intertwining her fingers with yours.

“He’ll be fine, he’s a fighter remember?” You remarked, smiling almost sadly while you held her hands in yours nodding profusely after you pulled her up.

“I’m not sure how much longer he can fight this, Y/N.” She confessed, wrapping her arms over her chest while biting her lip waiting for your somewhat reassuring response, she could always count on you to be the positive one in these predicaments.

That heartbreaking statement made your heart wrench, you weren’t sure either.

The ride on the way to the hospital was deadly silent, the comfortableness of the silence was disturbing yet you had a gut feeling that he would be alright.

Stopping at the white front desk, the sickening medicinal smell threw off your senses. You both paused waiting for the bombshell blonde nurse who’s nametag read Amanda to notice the both of you.

“Excuse, uh we’re here to see Jim Mason, I’m his sister,” Medina asked politely while Amanda pushed up the frame of her glasses, her gaze not leaving the computer as she typed away on it.

“Room 239, down the hall then to your left,” She stated emotionless, not bothering to motion with her hands which made you scoff.

Beginning to gain momentum as you both ran down the halls the both of you trailed closely after each other, noticing another brunette who was arguing with a taller male you recognized them as Sandy their mother and Phil their father.

“Thank god you’re here,” Phil exclaimed, pushing past Sandy to engulf his emotional daughter in his arms comfortingly, well would you look at that he was finally doing something right.

“Can I go in?” Medina murmured against her dad’s shoulder, pulling away he nodded motioning for her to go in, pausing her eyes flickered back to you as if asking for you to come in with her.

“You go in, I’ll wait out here, he deserves to be with his family,” You responded, fixing your gaze on the white floor, to say you blamed yourself was an understatement.

“Y/N Thank you so much for your concern, but I don’t think he needs you here right now,” His mother stated condescendingly, pointing her finger rudely at you while squinting her eyes.

“Sandy,” Phil snapped, sending you an apologetic look whilst trying to reprimand his now ex-wife. It didn’t take long for Medina to come out of the room.

“He’s asking for you,” She smiled, patting you on the back while you nodded, inhaling deeply to prepare yourself to see the worst before entering the hospital room. He was laying on his side, facing the light that shone down from the window.

“Y/N?” He croaked out, making your chin tremble slightly as you walked around the obstacle that was his bed.

“I’m not going to antagonize you, but please tell me why you thought it was a good idea?” You asked, squatting before him as you placed your hand on the rail of the bed.

His face was as pale as a ghost, and his usually shining baby blue eyes looked almost lifeless as tears slipped down his face.

“Hey, don’t cry that’s my job,” You giggled, allowing your emotions to get the best of you letting out a small cry whilst covering your hand over your mouth, it physically hurt you to see him like this.

“I thought that if I did something like this they’d finally notice-,” He murmured while you brushed away the tears from his cheeks nodding understandably.

“I was so scared, it’s my fault for not staying with you,” You explained, running your fingers through his fluffy soft hair before cupping the side of his jaw.

“And don’t you dare blame this on yourself,” You scolded him while his lips upturned into a smile as he began to attempt to sit up.

“It’s not your fault,” He assured you, patting the bed for you to sit next to him. Following his actions, you crossed your legs facing him while fiddling with your fingers nervously.

“I have something else I want to c-confess-,” You stuttered, looking at your hands before he lifted your chin up with his finger.

“I know,” He softly mumbled, leaning forward he captured your lips in a passionate kiss making you melt. Pulling away, your cheeks were flustered red gaining a chuckle from Jim as he pulled you into a warm hug.

He was your addiction.

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rogue-barnes-16 · 5 years

Text

SECRETS (part II/IV)

Summary: Detectives James Barnes and Y/n Y/l/n never really got along, despite being partners for seven months. You could say they hated each other, however, when James' past shows up threatening to break him all over again, the truth about their feelings comes to the surface.

Pairing: cop!Bucky Barnes x cop!Reader

Genre: angsty

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @sinviix @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack

Warnings: abusive ex-partner, mentions of toxic relationship, hungover, scars

A/N: I'm back from my brief hiatus(?) yayy! I'm still feeling super insecure about my writing so if you see something I'm doing wrong or something that I should improve, tell me. Tomorrow I'll post the next part of The Protege, but now enjoy <3.

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist (you can find part I there)

The moment my eyes fluttered open, my hands gripped the sheets I had gotten tangled with, trying to suppress a loud groan the would have just made my head pound harder.

I stirred and turned my head to the man lying besides me as a proof of the bizarre events that my mind remembered from the night before.

This time I was unable to hold back a now regretful groan, which ended up shaking him awake.

"what the- Fuck" he sat up, pressing the heels of his hands against his shut eyes. "fuck fuck fuck fuck"

I shifted my position in a way that I had a perfect view of his bare back.

And that view made my heart clench, because it made me remember what I wanted to talk about without him in first place.

It also proved me that, sadly, there was no way in hell that I was wrong. The patterns of the scars were signs of domestic violence without a doubt.

"Barnes" I called him, not daring to move. "we still have to talk." my voice sounded demanding, but still tender and quiet.

"what 'bout?" his eased voice almost made me doubt my gut feeling, because after all, those scars could be something else.

But then he put his shirt faster than normal, and before even putting on his underwear.

"Dot." his shoulders tensed for a moment, but he did his best to hide it from me. "what happened between the two of you?" I didn't want to ask it directly, so I decided to take the long way.

"c'mon Y/l/n" he let out a humorless laugh, getting up to put on his underwear and pants. "You're the smartest detective I've ever worked with" I managed to hide my surprise at the compliment and I sat up on the bed. "do you really need to fuckin' ask?"

"yeah" he glared at me, leaning over the bed to grab his jacket. "Barnes for fucks sake" I let out a groan, falling back on the bed after I had seen him get out of my apartment.

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

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

I got in the precinct an hour or so before my shift actually started, but, honestly, I couldn't care less.

I made a bee line to my desk, not bothering on greeting my colleagues "Hey man, are you okay?" Wilson asked, probably noticing how bad I looked like due to the hungover.

"always" I curtly replied, grabbing the manila folders Y/n had been working on, and displaying it in front of me.

"Bucky?" I didn't even need to spare a glance at Steve to see his worried gaze. "what are you doing here? You don't-"

"got a problem" I muttered low enough for only us to hear it. "I- Y/n and I-"

"Please don't tell me that-"

"yeah" I replied before he finished his question. "we were drunk and-"

"Oh c'mon man" Steve sighed and I let myself fall on the chair while he kept pacing besides me. "with her out of everyone? You had to fuck your co-worker, who you've been pinning over for the last four months?"

"Listen, jerk that's not the important thing right here" I hissed, leaning over the desk to be closer to him. "she knows."

"she knew the moment that Dot showed up" he replied, sitting over my desk. "why does it matter anymore though? The trials start in a week."

"I didn't want her to know" I confessed, running my hands over my short hair. "not now, not like this."

"well there's no going back, pal" Steve said with a sad note on his voice. "you gotta- oh, there she goes" squeezing my shoulder, he got up and walked to his own desk. "Mornin' Y/l/n. Isn't it a bit early?"

"I have work to do" she replied emotionless, looking for the folders on her desk. When she didn't find them, she silently walked to stand besides me and, leaning over my desk, she started to grab the folders.

"I won't tell anyone" she whispered in a tone much softer than I expected. "it's your place to do it so don't worry" with that, she came back to her desk.

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

It was midnight and Y/n and I hadn't spoken since our brief exchange of words in the morning. Now that we were the last ones left in the department, it was impossible for us not to chat with the other.

It was Y/n who started the conversation.

"Hey listen" she called in low voice, walking to my desk to sit besides me. "I'm sorry for pushing you. I just-" she sighed, scratching her arm distractedly. "I-I just wanted to be wrong, and then" pursing her lips, she spared me a nervous look. "I don't know"

I glanced at her for a moment and, after taking a deep breath, I spoke. "I fell for her when I was really young" I stated. "Hell, I fell hard" she peaked at me, leaving the pencil she was using over the papers. "she was so charming. We got married when I was twenty-six"

"That's..." she looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face. "that's nine years"

"not really" I scratched my neck, feeling Y/n's eyes on me. "we took lots of breaks" I tried focusing on the reports in front of me. "things went south during the last three years, though. We fought. A lot." I scoffed "I loved her so I always blamed myself-"

"Bucky" she cut me off in the most tender way possible. "we- you don't- we don't have to talk about it." before I could tell her that I wanted- no, that I needed to, she spoke again. "unless you want to."

I nodded. "one day I came home late. We argued and she... Uh... Slapped me." I shrugged, not daring to look at Y/n. "and I thought, she's worried, don't mind it." Y/n stayed quiet for me to tell her the rest of the story. "slaps turned into things being thrown at me, and then... Well, you already saw it."

"Your back." I nodded at her guess. "Bucky, those are some serious scars." I just shrugged, not knowing what to answer. "what the hell did she use?"

"what does it look like?"

"I didn't look at them enough to-" I started to unbutton my shirt to take it off. "you sure of what you're doing?" I nodded, leaving the shirt aside. "Okay uh" she stood up and hesitantly traced the scars with her fingers "those three ones gotta be from a belt."

"they are"

"well then she's strong as fuck" I let out a nervous chuckle while she inspected the rest of the scars. "this one... Did she stab you"

My nod was almost unnoticeable "That's the last one"

"I wanna believe that this burn here" her fingers ghosted over it. "isn't one of them." she sighed, grabbing my shirt and handing it to me.

I realized too late my hands were shaking too much for me to be able to button up my shirt. When she noticed this, she kneeled in front of me and did it for me.

"the last time we were together, she ended up stabbing me" her jaw clenched.

"I'm guessing she came here" she got up and came back to her chair. "because you brought a lawsuit against her?"

I nodded, clenching my fists a few times in an attempt to calm my nerves. "she showed up in my house yesterday. That's why I was in the bar."

READER'S P. O. V.

"what are you gonna do tonight?" That question didn't really need to be asked, but still, I did.

"I'll stay in the break room" he replied distracted. "tomorrow I'll figure something"

Without thinking twice, I casually suggested "come to my place"

He shot me a perplexed glance "and then what?" before I could even think about replying, he spoke again. "we fuck again?"

I couldn't help but snort with a note of bitterness in my laugh. "I'm trying to be nice, what the fuck was that?"

"not sure" he muttered absently, a frown forming between his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I think I'm too tired"

I sighed "yeah, me too" I looked up at the clock and, taking a deep breath, I spoke again "we should go home"

"we?"

"yeah" I got up, not wanting to face him for some reason I could not pinpoint. "You're staying at my place remember?"

"Y/n" he called me "there's still a week left for the trials"

"I think" I grabbed my things and put on my jacket "that we're more than capable of standing each other for a week"

I heard him standing up and I finally turned around to face him again. "Y/n, you don't have to-"

"Oh shut up" I said cut him off, throwing him his jacket. "I bet if it was Steve, you wouldn't be so hesitant"

"of course I wouldn't" he admitted, letting out a chuckle. "he's my bestfriend"

"then- I dunno" I shrugged with a grin on my face while we made our way out. "pretend I'm Steve, but stop complaining"

"That's-" he snorted falling into step with me. "that's so fucking weird"

"why? 'cause we fucked?" there was a beat of silence, but when I looked at him, we both burst into fit laughs.

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

"yeah, because we fucked" I confirmed, looking ahead of us with a smile dancing on my lips. "Where's your place, by the way?"

"what the hell? you were there last night." she shook her head a couple of times with a grin pulling the corners of her mouth. "I guess you were too drunk."

"so were you"

"yeah, but I still know where's my place" she stated proudly.

"what the f- Y/n, that's because it's your place." a snort escaped her lips. "which way, genius?"

"This way, jerk" she placed a hand on my back to guide me and, despite the thick jacket, I could still feel it's warm.

It was in that moment that I realized her touch somehow soothed me, and I found myself wishing she didn't let go of me.

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filosofablogger · 5 years

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Welcome, friends! Did you notice what was in the front yard as you came in? No? Then come … you simply must see! Yes, there … see them? The crocuses are coming up!!! It will be a while before we get blooms, but I am so happy to see their fresh green sprouts!

So, how was your weekend? Mine? Meh. It was very cold this weekend, and I’m still not quite up to snuff these days, tire too easily, so while we went out for lunch and the bookstore, that was about enough for me. I was ready to come back home and put on my warm, cozy sweats and thick book socks. Daughter Chris’ band played in the St. Patrick’s Day parade downtown on Saturday, but Miss Goose and I stayed home where it was warm. Apparently not many people did, though, for it was so crowded it took her over an hour to be able to make her way back to her car after the parade!

Chris, my li’l drummie girl, is 3rd from the right, front row

Well, since it is Monday, let’s make it a jolly one with a bit of humour, shall we? Grab a snack and a cuppa. I put extra tea out for you, rawgod, since you said somebody sipped yours last week. And David … there’s BFG just for you!

Playing music for … cheese?

Say What??? This one doesn’t come from a satirical site, but you wouldn’t be blamed for thinking it did.

A team of Swiss researchers has been studying the effects of music on cheese. Yes, you heard me right. Nine wheels of Emmental cheese weighing 10 kilos (22 pounds) each were placed in separate wooden crates last September to test the impact of music on flavor and aroma.

One wheel was played Mozart 24/7, while another was subjected to Led Zeppelin, and yet another to some hip-hop group of whom I’ve never heard and don’t care if I never do! One lone wheel was left in peace and quiet.

According to the researchers from Bern University …

“The most obvious differences were observed in strength of flavor, smell and taste. The hip hop sample topped the list of all cheese exposed to music in terms of fruitiness … [it] was the strongest of these in terms of smell and taste. The differences were very clear, in term of texture, taste, the appearance, there was really something very different. All the energy is directly resonating inside of the cheese.”

Interesting, but my question is … taste varies from person to person, so the cheese I might prefer might well (likely would) be the one that had Mozart playing in its … um … what does cheese have in lieu of ears? Who comes up with these ideas, anyway! And why?

Ghost or Gimmick?

The Habitat for Humanity Restore of Rowan County is a second-hand furniture store in North Carolina. They recently acquired a queen canopy bed frame and highboy chest of drawers that the previous owners said were haunted. Store Operations Director Elizabeth Brady says she felt obligated to advise potential customers of the possibility of a ghost or ghosts residing within, so she posted photos on Facebook, along with the disclaimer …

And suddenly there was a flurry of interest in the pieces, culminating in a sale for $1,000 just last week. Now, perhaps I just have a suspicious nature, but I have a funny feeling it was an intentional tease to pique the public interest and have people vying to own these ‘haunted’ pieces, thereby raising the going price.

Turn some lights out, Bud!

I’ve had a few eye-opening electric bills in my time, but I think the highest ever was probably under $400. I would love to have seen the look on poor Tommy Straub’s face when he opened his monthly bill from Con Edison in New York and found this …

His average bill is $74. Tommy took it all in stride, however, tweeting …

“I own a 600 square foot apartment in Astoria. I do NOT own the entirety of Manhattan Island. THIS IS INSANE. FIX IT.”

I think I would have been on the phone to Con Ed, rather than on Twitter, but that seems to be where everybody heads when things go amiss! Happily, the problem was quickly resolved with a phone call, but if I had been the one to get a bill like that, it would have been too late to resolve, for I would likely have suffered heart failure right then and there!

ATM mobbed?

Back in November in Houston, Texas, I think perhaps the men who loaded an ATM near Interstate 45 and Farm to Market Road 1960 in Harris County, may have been a bit hungover or somehow distracted. Perhaps there was a pretty little filly trotting down the FM road? Anyway, where they were supposed to place $20 bills, they instead placed $100 bills! Customers contacted Bank of America, to whom the machine belonged, when it was discovered that the machine was dispensing extra cash, but not before a few people grabbed the money and ran, and a few fights broke out! No word yet on the amount of excess cash that was distributed, or on whether those found having taken the cash will be charged with some criminal offense.

Personally, I would have waited for the cops and turned the extra money over. No, really, I would have! I’m he one who drives back to the store and goes back in to tell the clerk she gave me 25 cents too much change!

Dragonlord the Pig … or CAT???

What would Jolly Monday be without a cute animal video? I say I post these for the young set of readers, but in truth, I have a ball with them! Last night, I was sitting watching animal videos to find just the right one for this post, and literally laughing! I really think we ‘oldsters’ enjoy the animals as much as the youngsters, don’t you? Dragonlord is a pig who, having been raised with house cats, thinks he is one of them. Watch …

youtube

And now, folks, I am sorry to say that we must all get this show on the road. I, of course, have laundry, bathrooms & a kitchen to clean, and a nap to take email to answer. And you all … well, some of you anyway … have a job to go to so you can pay the electric bill next week. I do so love seeing your beautiful smiles, and I hope you will share them with everyone you see this week! Thank you for sharing part of your morning with me and Jolly! Hugs ‘n love from Filosofa and Jolly!

Jolly Monday Once Again! Welcome, friends! Did you notice what was in the front yard as you came in? No? Then come … you simply must see!

#ATM oopsie!#cheese music?#haunted furniture #Maxine #pig raised as cat #whopper electric bill

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nikkidoesntlike · 4 years

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The Flight Attendant (2020)

No. of episodes watched: 5

Spoilers! With absolutely nothing better to do, I’ve experienced all that TV has to offer in 2020: the terrifying lows, the dizzying highs, the creamy middles. But for some inexplicable reason, it was this two-bit, not-even-basic-cable-but-streaming-service “comedy” that incensed me enough to stumble out of my screen-fatigued stupor and write some words about it.

I accidentally read The Flight Attendant by Chris Bohjalian, not knowing it was soon to debut as a TV show, and quite enjoyed it; though not exactly fine literature, it’s the kind of “damaged woman gets herself into some shit” novel that I often pass the time with, a la The Girl on the Train or Sharp Objects (which happens to be a far superior HBO adaptation...but I digress). Cassie Bowden is the titular flight attendant, and she, in short, is a hot mess: a fun-loving alcoholic who uses her jet-setting occupation as an excuse to run away from her problems, only she can’t run away from her loneliness. After one such drunken night with flirtatious passenger Alex Sokolov, Cassie awakens to find herself in his bed (not unusual), except he’s totally dead (pretty unusual). Through an avalanche of increasingly poor decisions, Cassie has to sift through her blackouts to discover who killed Alex and why.

If this sounds like your type of hard-boiled whodunit thriller, well...you’re not entirely wrong. Bohjalian’s writing definitely has enough twists and turns to keep the reader in suspense. But I was shocked to see The Flight Attendant turned into a light, kooky dramedy with a jazzy Archer-like credits sequence that ultimately fails to do its source material justice. TV Cassie (Kaley Cuoco) is a drunk, sure, but that can’t be her only defining quality. Book Casie has a lot of real trauma that fuels her addiction, and even though her childhood is alluded to (through the lens of many, MANY changes), TV Cassie doesn’t bring the same type of humanity that makes her character relatable, or at the very least, understandable. On the surface, Cassie is irresponsible because she likes to drink, and drinks because she’s irresponsible. Cuoco might not have the acting chops of Emily Blunt or Amy Adams, and she’s probably playing the material that best fits her talent--but as a result, her portrayal comes off as shrill, needy (god, so needy) and generally not an actual person that you want to have in your life. Book Cassie worked well as a protagonist because she could only blame herself for her bad choices; she doesn’t have a best friend to genuinely talk her off the ledge (hell, TV Cassie has two people claiming to be hers), and typically seeks solace in the company of local shelter cats. See? Relatable.

I’m also confused about why the show deviates from the book so drastically that it probably barely qualifies as an adaptation. It starts with the small things (murder in Bangkok vs. Dubai) that get bigger (Miranda is no longer a cool, stealthy assassin but one who kinda sucks at her job) and eventually compound so much that it’s unrecognizable (Annie and Megan’s side quests to break bad, for example. Who cares?). I’m doing my best to be objective and not filter my knowledge of the book through this new format, and have the show stand on its own merits, but I’m really not seeing a lot to enjoy here. Gone is the sense of espionage and danger, replaced with Cassie and Alex’s ghost teaming up like mismatched buddy cops, and her having optical visions like That’s So Raven to magically pick clues from her hungover brain.

Changes to the book would be fine if they resulted in tight, well-paced storytelling, but really The Flight Attendant is less compelling than the average episode of Law & Order. I love a good detective drama, and to my disappointment there are so many police work basics that are missing here (seriously, guys, consult Dick Wolf). The housekeeper in the Bangkok hotel saw Cassie, or at least saw a woman, in the room shortly before Alex’s body was discovered. Cassie made a call to the front desk. This is what we in the biz call “leads”. The FBI has photos of a “mystery woman” wearing a scarf, but Cassie left the hotel room without the scarf, and had to walk into a store to buy it--surely someone interacted with her? What connection would the scarfed woman have after the fact anyway? Nobody believes that Miranda followed Cassie on the train, when in reality, there are dozens of witnesses, some of which she even shoves out of the way. How hard would it be to collect statements? And what happened to Miranda after she pushed Sabrina out of the window? She didn’t disappear into thin air. Why didn’t Cassie wait for her to exit the apartment building? I’m willing to accept coincidences, suspension of disbeliefs, evil twins, anything like that, as long as it reflects real human behavior and doesn’t insult my intelligence as an armchair sleuth.

As a series with 8 episodes, The Flight Attendant is passable, though an odd choice for the burgeoning HBO Max brand. It seems like the kind of fluffy padding needed to rack up the count of “originals” to drive subscriptions, void of the prestige or budget or talent of the OG HBO. I intend to finish all the episodes, not because I think it will stick the landing (ha) but because it’s innocuous enough to consume and eventually forget about.

#tv #hbo max #the flight attendant #chris bohjalian #kaley cuoco #books

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