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imaginedreamwrite · 10 months

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Entirely Unconventional

Part 7: One Small Step

The latest dose of painkillers to ease your headache had yet to kick in. The latest attempt to try to stop yourself from mentally tailspinning was no more successful than your attempt to understand why fate did this to you.

Why did fate give you two soulmates? Why did fate decide to hand you those cards, the ones that would either spell your doom or completely flip your life around?

Fate, cruel as it was, could not be stopped.

It couldn’t be prevented, it couldn’t have been thrown onto a different trajectory. Rather than give you something that seemed like it had been ripped out of a fairytale with endearing characters and hopeful romanticism, Fate had given you them.

Simon Riley, you’d found out from Emilia, and König were both soldiers. Soldiers who had more kills on their hands than you had ever expected, and it were still counting. The two soldiers who were devil incarnates, who had gained a reputation for being ruthless with a gun, were yours.

And you were theirs.

Disappointing, is what you imagined you were to them. Fate giving them someone who had not gone farther than two states away, who had never seen even the smallest glimpse of conflict, had been matched with them.

Fate, cruel and unyielding, had decided you belonged together.

Em told you only what she knew about Simon & König, about the past that made them what they were.

Things she had learned from Johnny, and from her experience meeting them on base when she was allowed at the barracks during visiting hours. There was a lot there, a lot that had happened to them when they were younger, experiences that made them who they are today.

Simon, not that she had known much about him, had a traumatic and terrorizing childhood that continued into his adulthood. She didn’t know the details, but she knew enough to tell you that it wasn’t your fault, that you’d done nothing wrong to earn his hate.

And König, while not experiencing as much suffering, had not grown unscathed. He had his own past, he had skeletons in his closet that still haunted him.

She told you the truth, unloading all of it onto you when you finally got back to her. When you had finally managed to pick yourself up off the floor, clean yourself up and manage to avoid getting physically ill, that’s when she told you.

About them, about what they did. The truth and the lie you caught her in, was all out in the open. The risk of having someone who worked like this, whose job it was to run into the seven circles of hell, to go where no one else would, it was hard to accept.

“They’re not…” she laid it all out for you the morning after that bridge had been created, the mental meld completed. “Y/N, they’re soldiers. They work for a private military, they’re operatives and…”

Blood on their hands. Killers, murderers.

They had gone into the depths of some circles of hell to do work behind curtains, and they were not “good” men. They weren’t any kind of Prince Charming’s that existed in fairytales. Likewise, they weren’t someone to idolize and want to admire, Em had made that clear.

Johnny, even her husband who loved her with every damn fibre of his being, was not innocent. Her husband, who had adored her, who hadn’t given you the impression that he was anything to be feared, was a killer. In cold blood, they stripped people of their lives, they ended them in calculated violence.

That was who your soulmates were. And it wasn’t what you’d imagined for yourself back when you were 21 first learning that you would have two. Back when you weren’t even aware of people like them existing, you could have never imagined this.

They were killers; war criminals.

“You need to know, you need to understand that. They’re not good people, but they’re good men. They’re…” she struggled to explain it, but you knew what she meant. “Once you earn their trust, once you get to that point, I think you’ll…there’s a reason why fate decided you’re meant to be theirs.”

You understood what she meant, what she was trying to say. Simon and König weren’t good people by any rational definition, they were war criminals and their hands were bloody.

In that same breath, in that same thought, there were far more men who were treated as righteous men, thought to be good and upstanding, but had really been twisted and cruel.

Men who had been placed on pedestals which were carved and crafted by others blood, sweat, and tears. The kind of men who had declared themselves better than most, while controlling and using people beneath them as a stepping stool. Men who didn’t give a shit about anyone but themselves while holding on to their image of perfection.

No, Simon and König weren’t good people. But they could be considered good men, in the right context.

And fate…fate had made its choice.

Fate had really decided that you needed to be thrown into a catastrophic loop, an endless madness with two men who could kill you.

Easily and without a struggle, they could have ended you. It wouldn’t have been more than a single blip in time, and you could have been stripped of your life.

Simon Riley hated you.

He despised you, and in the three days since you’d been given a chance to see what was in their heads, you’d seen how he loathed the idea of you. Your ability to see each other's thoughts and memories was like Em & Johnny’s compass. It was like a way of finding each other, of remaining tied and entangled.

The compasses on their wrists had been what led them to each other.

Your mind, your thoughts, and memories led you to them.

Regardless, his feelings were clear. He had no use for you, he had no desire to have anything to do with you. A burden, nothing but a curse.

A liability, nothing but another person to lose.

Fate decided you needed him. And König.

König had attempted, or at least tried to, be some kind of middle man. He had tried more than once to open that line of communication, to get to know you from a world away. He was, as you’d realized, not as jaded about this twist of whatever destiny wanted for you. Since you’d first heard his voice in your head, that first initial time that he made contact, he had been soft-spoken. As much as he could be, as quiet as he could manage, he had kept quiet.

And as much as the mess in their heads was open to you, you were also open to them. You hadn’t known what they saw in your head, what memories they’d wanted to scourge your head for. You hadn’t even known if they wanted to, but it wasn’t entirely up to you. It was a weight of this bridge that connected all of you, being unable to really hide how you were feeling internally.

You weren’t able to hide in your head anymore. In that same breath, they couldn’t hide from you. They were unable to will themselves to sever this relationship, no matter how hard he wanted to.

It made you curious, however. It made you curious about the two of them, with everything else you had to balance and weigh out, you wondered what their relationship was like behind closed doors.

Even though they had been together and fought side by side, for years probably, you wondered if they had ever expressed love for each other.

Love and devotion was what most people anticipated from their soulmates, the kind of love Johnny & Emilia had. Though you had your doubts that you would ever have that, you wondered if it was possible.

I know you didn’t ask, but I like the colour blue, but not any blue. The kind of soft sky-blue that you see in summer when it's really clear

“You could try reaching out to them, even if they don’t respond. You could try to tell them about yourselves.” Em had offered the suggestion after you told her about the disdain you’d felt.

At least from Ghost.

I’m allergic to bees stings, I have to have an EpiPen with me in the summer

I almost broke my arm falling out a tree when I was seven

Most of the night, you’d worked, relaying random facts about yourself to the general sound of silence. You’d simply conveyed things you would have normally talked about if you were meeting someone through a dating app. Or basic conversation you’d have on a first date, you tell them things you thought they’d never really ask about.

You spoke to them while you worked, when you had the time to let your mind wander. You didn’t even know if they were hearing you or if they were sleeping and had somehow shut down the ability to hear you. It was quiet in your head, radio silence that made you almost feel normal again, as if you were just talking to yourself and not your soulmates.

While you were busy filling out and completing the charts for the patients in your small county hospital, you found yourself thinking of the possibilities of where they could be, or what they could be doing.

It was simple curiosity that lended itself to you, with the underlying reminder that wherever they were, they were likely in the middle of something sordid and deadly. You hadn’t come to terms with what they had done, with who they were, and it was bubbling under your skin, almost like acid eating away at you from the inside out.

From the moment you first saw them, they were deadly. From the first night you’d met, they’d been killers and murderers. Your student nurse, that night, had been right. They could have killed you all that night. Everyone in that room, aside from Em, could’ve easily killed you.

The longer you’d remained focused on them, on what they had done and who they were, the more a divide between being drawn to them and wanting to open communication, and wanting to completely shut any attempt down. If not to save yourself from finding something in their heads that you didn’t want to see, then to give yourself time to process how much danger you could have really been in that night.

Even with their bare hands, with nothing but their own sheer size and strength.

The thought had made you shiver, a natural reaction to the sudden realization.

“Not good people, but good men in the right context.”

You tried to keep your head to yourself while you worked, the peaceful night giving you more time than you’d actually need to work with your patients. There were a few IVs you needed to place, a few meds you had to hand out to some night owls who woke at night in need of help to go to the bathroom.

There were no new admissions at night, something you had been grateful for since there was a lack of a doctor overnight. The downside to working in a rural hospital, surrounded by little else but a small-town and outlying farms, was the lack of a constant doctor. While he was here in the day, doing as much as he could when he could, a lot of the overnight shifts were left in the hands of the nurses.

With yourself and the charge nurse, Chey, you were each taking, a side of the small hospital, along with the student nurses, and completed almost all of your checks. Working from room to room, going through the motions to take care of the patients that were admitted until you had been allowed to head to the back and do your counts.

You stepped into the room and closed the door behind you with a soft click, adhering yourself to the quiet room to do what you could until your shift was over.

I have a joke for you. You tried to speak to them, again, knowing that they were likely both there. It’s really corny, but I think…anyway…Why did the bike fall over? It was two tired.

Despite you making the joke for them, you’d laughed under your breath at your joke. Finding amusement in your voice, your thoughts that echoed in your head. Maybe it was your exhaustion from the night that dragged on, or perhaps it was your way of goading them into saying something. Or even more than that, perhaps it was an attempt to stymie some kind of loneliness that hit you deep.

Das war schrecklich, Liebe

A moment, a single beat between you telling the joke and you laughing at it yourself, you’d heard his voice.

It was clear and soft, as if he was taking caution to not surprise you or frighten you.

When you heard his voice, despite it being in German, there was a part of you that had been afflicted with subtle warmth, starting in your belly, and a grin cracked on your face. You didn’t know if it was a hallucination from you being tired, or if you’d actually managed to make contact and have somewhat of a conversation.

Whatever it was, you had embraced it.

I have another, this one is really bad. Why do seagulls fly over the sea? If they flew over the bay, they would be bagels.

Again, you laughed at your own stupid joke. It wasn’t the kind of funny joke that would actually be welcomed by most, but it still struck a chord with you. It was the pivotal dad joke that you found funny, when no one else usually would.

Such bad jokes. He spoke again, his voice filling your mind, and for a moment, you became blissfully aware of how pleasant it was. It was enough to make you, even for a brief amount of time, forget what Emilia had told you. Just for a brief second, you’d been able to negate the truth about them and what they were.

For a moment, you didn’t feel as if Fate were trying to kill you.

I know, they’re shitty, but they’re all I got. Your conversation was short, your ability to keep it going was faltered by the time you’d crossed the small supply room to put some bandages away. It had ended instantly, replaced by silence. You hummed under your breath, fingers curling around the smooth edge of a metal shelf, dazed and wandering further into your mind.

I like the colour blue, you repeated that same fact wondering if you could strike up something else, anything else, I’m allergic to bees. I nearly broke my arm when I was 7. I was-

Something to occupy your mind, something to keep yourself from overthinking the silence that crept in. There was nothing you’d like more than to double down and retreat into yourself without making a little effort. It seemed as if you were destined to fail no matter what you had done.

You like laughing at yourself, love? Think you’re funny? His voice caught you off guard, very few times had you heard it before and it seemed to be gruff and low, as if he was trying to keep himself from catching anyone’s attention.

Sometimes. It’s good to laugh at yourself. Can’t take yourself too seriously. Your reply was soft, and you were clearly winded by the roughness of his voice, the thick husk that afflicted you in such a way that it felt like you’d had molten lava injected into your veins.

I got a joke for ya love. What has two legs and bleeds? Half a dog

You responded verbally, a mix of a snort and a laugh at the dark sense of humour. It had genuinely given you a little rush, a small little boost to think that you’d possibly made some headway with him.

#simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader x könig #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x nurse!reader #Simon Riley x fem!Reader #konig x female!reader x simon riley #konig cod #könig x reader x simon riley #könig x nurse!reader #könig x reader #könig x female!reader #König x nurse!Reader x Simon Riley #soulmates #soulmates au #entirely unconventional masterlist #entirely unconventional series #entirely unconventional part 7

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cozzzynook · 5 months

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do ya have any aus on how prowlbee met and fell in love?

They actually meet underground.

Its brief and its Bee who remembers Prowl first but he doesn’t say anything.

They originally met at a red stop district in the pits beneath Cybertron. Directly under the governing capital.

Prowl was there getting intel for his own personal use while also avoiding the elite guard for dodging the draft.

Prowl was on the run when he hid inside a booth where a small mini bot with alert and fearful door wings were stone still as they pressed against the electric cyber bars meant to keep outsiders from taking who was inside.

Prowl hadn’t seen Bee’s face but Bee saw his.

He remembers how attractive the mech looked completely focused on staying hidden while being so exposed. He found it kind of cute and funny looking back on it but in that moment he was too shocked by the cyber bots sudden appearance to do more than cover his intake and exposed breast mesh.

Prowl didn’t spare more than a klik looking at Bee before he simply went back the way he came in and kept going. All Prowl had cared about was the fact he was silent and didn’t alarm anyone to his whereabouts. For that the cyber ninja was grateful.

The second time they met Prowl took notice of Bee first.

He was hiding behind a of large boulders watching the repair crew work on cleaning a space bridge. He’d recently lost Yoketron and was wandering without a purpose.

His spark hurt deeply at the loss and guilt consumed him every waking solar cycle and yet looking at the yellow mini who helped the large green bot repair the space bridge, soothed his troubled processor in a way he didn’t know possible.

It was one of the reasons he agreed to come along when Optimus offered him a place on the team.

Of course he was closed off and stand offish even to the yellow mini that captivated his attention, though, he was less stand offish with the mecha he learned was called Bumblebee.

Any time the mini asked him to join team bonding he would accept in silence. He’d never do more than stand there and say a few words when he felt like it but he did join.

He even made a point to greet the yellow mini when he felt him near.

He wasn’t a fan of the yellow mini’s pranks but even he could admit they made him smirk a little when no bot was looking.

Prowl didn’t understand why he had such a growing affection for the mini. Maybe it was how carefree he seemed, how he was so full of life, so easily excited and ready to explore. Always lending a helpful servo even if he could be an annoying little pest, he never meant any harm.

Prowl found himself looking forward to late lunar cycles where Bumblebee would make a delicious cup of fuel and share with him. When it was just the two of them up, Prowl meditated and Bumblebee played a hologame with audio connectors in his audios.

They spent alone time together almost every lunar cycle and when Megatron came aboard their ship Prowl remembers the internal terror that almost frizzled his circuits when he saw Bumblebee bump into Megatrons pede.

The relief he felt seeing Bumblebee online from stasis after crash landing on the planet called Earth was so immense he actually wrapped an arm around Bumblebees hip struts. He played it off as trying to help him exit the stasis pod but the look on Ratchets face plates said otherwise.

Bumblebee knew then Prowl felt something for him and when things calmed down enough after settling into their new base turned home, he brought it up.

Prowl was so flustered and awkward it made Bumblebee smile. He teased Prowl so much that lunar cycle the cyber ninja almost kicked him out. But that night they shared a berth watching the stars from inside Prowls room.

Bumblebee’s door wings haven’t stopped fluttering in happiness yet.

As always, Free Palestine 🇵🇸 Sudan 🇸🇩 Congo 🇨🇩 Tigray, Haiti 🇭🇹 & Yemen 🇾🇪 boycott Christmas & speak up on the genocides America & Israel are committing.

#prowlbee #prowl x bumblebee #bumblebee headcanons #prowl headcanons #prowl transformers #tfa bumblebee headcanons #tfa headcanons #tfa prowl #tfa bumblebee #tfa #tfatws #transformers animated #transformers bumblebee #transformers prowl #macadams #maccadam #tfp #transformers cyberverse #tranaformers earthspark

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spicysix · 9 months

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「eddie munson X gn!reader • roadtrip!AU」

3k words | prev | masterlist | ao3 warnings: all the touristy informations were taken from this amazing video. if stuff changed between 1980, when the video was made, and '86, well, we'll ignore that! songs of the chapter: the last in line - dio • the first day in august - carole king author's note: it's over :( i had the best time writing this fic, it's my baby, has been my main focus since the beginning of this year and i'm so very proud of having written, posted and finished it. thank you so much to everyone who liked, reblogged and commented. this fic means the world to me. love you all and see you soon!

Friday, August 1

Eddie took you to Seattle.

As you and him had gone to sleep early the day before, after all the activity tired you out, you both woke up naturally before the sun had even risen. Eddie thought it was a good idea to go ahead and get going to your next destination so you could arrive extra early and enjoy the day better.

He was saying that based on the thought that you’d move on after that, head to another new place; but the minute you passed Bellevue and crossed the first bridge to Mercer Island, the soft drizzle cleaning the dusty van and cooling the weather, you looked at Eddie and his face seemed different. He had a new glow to his eyes that you hadn’t seen before so far, a smile was slowly pulling his lips upwards as he stared at the city around him in awe.

And you just knew, somehow.

He wasn’t going anywhere after that.

He drove around for a good while before finding a neighborhood that didn’t look so expensive and a motel that you could afford with the rest of your government money. You still had a nice portion of it, but you knew his was running out, and the prospect of staying in Seattle indefinitely just grew with that. The drizzle had stopped by the time you found a place to stay, and the two of you took turns showering before deciding to go out and see more of the city.

He wanted to explore by foot again and you couldn’t say no to his big pleading eyes so you agreed. The motel reception offered tourist brochure guides just like the one in Sioux did, so you grabbed one on your way out. You and Eddie walked some blocks hand in hand before getting in the first bus headed downtown, and you memorized the number so you’d know how to get back later. Seattle was the biggest city you’ve been to so far in the trip, and the chances of getting lost were higher so you had to pay attention. It wouldn’t stop you from encouraging Eddie’s exploring, though.

You walked around a few more blocks before deciding to follow the brochure’s hint of getting a monorail ride. The monorail made no stops as it was a short ride to the Space Needle, and you and Eddie weren’t the only tourists on it, pointing at the windows to the pretty views of downtown Seattle.

Of course, you caught the elevator to the top of the Space Needle, embracing your tourist selves, and almost lost track of time at the observation deck. The weather had cleared out completely, and you marveled at the almost perfect view of Mount Rainier. It felt like the clouds left as you arrived just so you were able to see it.

“I’ve been to Chicago and Indy, and I know they’re both bigger, but this looks huge,” he said as you were staring at the buildings. You asked him when he’s been to those cities. “I went to Indy last year, a concert. And Wayne took me to Chicago on his last work trip as a truck driver before he settled at the plant when I started living with him.”

You hummed at his answer. “My grandma took me to Chicago too. The month before she passed away. It makes me have mixed feelings about the city because it was so weird and twice as heartbreaking how well she was during our trip, and how fast she got sick and died. But it’s also the place where I made a lot of my happiest memories with her.”

Eddie didn’t answer you, and you honestly didn’t expect him to. But he stepped closer to you and his shoulder pressed to yours as he intertwined your pinky finger with his. He smiled at you, a sweet comforting thing, and you rested your head against his shoulder as the two of you watched the city for a few more minutes.

Eddie wanted to visit the Science Center after you left the Space Needle, so you headed there next and occupied the last bit of your morning. The ticket fees weren’t cheap, but there were so many interesting exhibits inside that it paid off. Eddie was jiggling with excitement, and you walked behind him at all times as he admired and contemplated everything. He couldn’t get you tickets to the planetarium, but you promised him that you’d go another day, and he looked radiant — maybe catching the undertone that you’d be staying in Seattle longer.

You left the museum headed east until you ended up at a park at the southernmost point of Lake Union. You wandered around and there was a huge History museum, the ticket fees cheaper than the Science Center ones and Eddie actually liked History more than he liked Science, so you convinced him to get inside that one too.

And, what a great idea that was.

The Museum’s core exhibit was a full, detailed story of Seattle and you watched closely as Eddie got enthralled with everything about The Emerald City. As he read and learned about the Fire of 1889, and how so many things were destroyed and rebuilt, he touched the scars on his jaw, and you understood how that story got to him personally. Someone passing by saw it, saw him, and his scars, and stared openly and rudely. Eddie was too engrossed still reading the exhibit’s panels to realize he was being stared at, but you glared at them from behind Eddie’s back until they left.

The Museum visit took up the first couple of hours of your afternoon, and you left it and started searching for a place for a late lunch. Eddie told you all about what he had learned, retold you everything the exhibit taught him about Seattle, and you honestly weren’t as enamored with it as he was, but you didn’t mind him rambling about it for hours. Actually, for as long as he wanted to talk, you would happily listen. You might’ve not been that much enamored by Seattle, but you were definitely growing enamored with Eddie Munson.

Your belly swirled by that thought alone.

After some good walking, you ended up closer to the bay and found a place to eat, somewhere with Seattle specialties. It was a small restaurant, not as expansive as the ones by the docks, and you and Eddie tried a few different options of fish, salmons specially, he even tried a sample of oysters.

You left the restaurant and walked towards the waterfront, to the docks and the pier, and Eddie looked amazed to see the bay. You wanted to take him further west, to the sea, watch his reaction to the ocean — but you figured you’d have plenty of time in the future to get there.

The touristy attractions in that area were all alluring, and you chose and paid for a ferry tour. It lasted a little bit over an hour and took you to Bainbridge Island and back. Eddie kept growing mesmerized by the hour, observing the water, the other ferries, the people. And you kept observing him.

A few seagulls surrounded the pier as you returned, and Eddie looked amazed even by them as if he was under a love spell for everything about Seattle.

“Thought you were terrified of all kinds of wildlife?” you teased him, poking him with your elbow and he cackled.

“Guess I lost my fear of many things in the last ten days,” he answered when he finished laughing, throwing his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you back downtown.

You went to a local coffee shop, a funny looking logo that Eddie explained to you, with all his fantasy knowledge, was a two-tailed siren. Got your coffees to go, sat on a bench in a random park and kept people-watching in silence as you drank your beverages.

Eddie spoke up after a few minutes. “I don’t want to go back,” he admitted.

You turned to look at him, but he kept looking forward. The fingers of his free hand were pulling at a loose thread in his jeans, his feet tapping repeatedly. You knew he was nervous. At your reaction, maybe? You almost thought it was funny.

Didn’t he know you’d follow him anywhere by now?

You placed your free hand on top of his, stopping him from ruining his pants further.

“Then you don’t go back,” you assured him.

You almost said we, but all of a sudden you were hit by a wave of uncertainty if he wanted you with him. You didn’t want to assume, or impose, bother him with your complications. So you just comforted him, put your bad thoughts aside.

He smiled widely at you, though, so your chest felt less constricted.

“I’ve always wanted to leave Hawkins, but even more so after Spring Break.” He looked around again, contemplating the buildings. “I feel like I get to start over now.”

You nodded, hummed, and tightened your grip on his leg, rested your head on his shoulder. He let out a deep, relieved sigh, and you were content to be there with him, even if it didn’t last forever. It had been good enough. It had been amazing.

Once you were done with your coffees, you went back to walking around. Eddie acted as if he had never left his house before, and you thought it would become annoying at some point, but his happiness was contagious. You couldn’t be mad at him for finally feeling free. It was the whole idea behind his runaway plan in the first place, wasn’t it? The road trip had no destination, but Eddie arrived at his own destination anyway.

He dragged you inside a bakery for a dessert treat, dragged you inside a bookstore for a new fantasy novel now that he’d have time to read one, dragged you into a quirky little shop for a tiny rainbow pin he promptly attached to the collar of his battle jacket, dragged you to a guy selling postcards — you’d have a lot to tell your friends on your next stop at a post office, you thought.

He dragged you to a new record store. “Think we need more tapes,” he said, and you laughed at his enthusiasm. Neither of you needed new tapes, definitely. Your collection was big enough, but once again you couldn’t deny him.

There was a good number of different tapes there, new music for both of you to discover and enjoy. Eddie, almost completely out of the shell he had created after March, made friends with the other shoppers and the metalhead employee. You stood back and listened to their conversations.

“You’re going to The Central tonight?” the worker asked one of the shoppers leaning on the counter, a friend of his it seemed. “That band you liked will be playing again, I heard.”

The guy seemed excited by it and turned to talk to Eddie about it as the worker rang Eddie’s tapes. “You should go check it out. Those guys are a crazy thing, never heard anything like it.”

“As if punk and metal were smashed together and came out better somehow,” the worker added and his friend nodded, laughing.

He wrote down the place and time to the tavern gig and handed the note to Eddie with his bag full of tapes.

“I’ll see you there,” Eddie said as you both left the store.

You looked at the note over his arm and told him you’d probably have the time to go back to the motel and get ready before coming back for the gig. He agreed and asked a passerby about the bus, you provided him the number, and the local told you where you should catch it.

It wasn’t too long before you were back in your rented room, taking turns showering and getting dressed. Eddie really spruced himself up, found an eyeliner at the bottom of his bag, a beautiful leather jacket and amazing combat boots. He looked so confident, radiant. Gleaming bright, and you were a mere spectator to all of his blinding glow.

You got your best accessories and clothes to wear too, not to stay too far behind him as you dressed to the nines.

The receptionist at the motel called you a cab and when you arrived at the Central Tavern, there was a little crowd of people already waiting in line to get inside. Good thing you and Eddie both had fake IDs to show the bouncer, and you drank a couple of beers before the band went up the stage.

Not even two minutes into their music, you saw it happen. You thought you’d seen the last of that sparkle in Eddie’s eyes, you thought you’d seen the peak of it, but he kept surprising you. It had happened first when you crossed the bridge that morning, it had happened again in the History Museum, but neither of those times it was shining as bright as it did when Eddie felt the music.

The songs were, one after another, gloomy, melancholic, desperate, bitter. The lyrics told of running, of being hunted, of crying and screaming, of pleading and criticizing, of trying and failing, of trying and flying and leaving and feeling free. The words, the heavy basslines, the loud drums and the slashing guitar solos — they all ran through your ears and straight to your gut.

Eddie’s eyes were glued to the band and your eyes were glued to him.

His mouth was hanging open in awe, a few tears wetting his cheeks as the songs kept playing, his hand grasping yours in the tightest of grips, he was almost shaking.

You knew it, then.

You knew he had found whatever it was that he’d been searching for.

Eddie was truly, undoubtedly, unquestionably at home.

The gig ended and he clapped the loudest. Went ahead and talked to the musicians for a good while. You backed away to the bar again, watched him in his element.

When he got back to you he was smiling wide and his eyes were still wet. He was overwhelmed with emotions and you smiled as he hugged you tight for a couple of minutes before gripping your hand again and pulling you towards the door.

“Wanna walk a bit,” he said.

“Aren’t you tired?” you asked, your own feet aching a little from all the walking you’d done through the day. He just shrugged, still smiling.

He was silent as you walked to the waterfront again, north until you reached the piers. The last few ferries of the night were the only thing you could see in the water, tiny little things in their slow paces. It was beautiful, you could admit it.

Your head was spinning.

You could feel he had something to say, was preparing for it, and you were afraid of what it could be. At the end of the pier, Eddie leaned against the metallic fence and stared ahead at the water, still quiet. You were trying to give him the time to process his emotions, cause you knew he just had what was probably a huge realization, but your mind was spiraling.

“I want to stay here,” he finally said after what felt like hours of silence.

“Do you want me to go back?” you asked immediately. His head snapped to face you so fast you were afraid he sprained his neck.

“What?” he asked, searching for something in your eyes. You could feel them burning.

“Do you want me to go back?” you repeated.

Do you want me to leave you?

Or do you want me to stay with you?

Where do you want me? Point me to wherever, and I’ll follow.

“We gotta talk, right?” you asked instead. “We don’t wanna complicate it, right, so we gotta talk. I’m talking, I’m asking: do you want me to go back to Hawkins?”

Eddie stared at you for a long minute. “Why would I want that? Do you want to go?”

You shook your head furiously. “I don’t want to go. I want to give you space if you want it, to settle in, to find yourself.”

His eyes softened. He turned to face you fully, and you mirrored him. He grabbed your hand again, cupped your jaw and caressed your cheeks.

“I don’t want space. I want you.” He smiled and wiped away the lonely tear that escaped your eye. “Nothing with you, nothing about you is complicated. There’s no complicating this, no complicating us. We’re as simple as breathing. You make it so. I’m so glad you invaded my van and came with me, baby. You’ve no idea how glad I am. We’ve been through so much, we’ve come so far and I’m not talking just about all the miles we’ve traveled.”

You let out a wet laugh. The knot in your chest loosened and you couldn’t hold in a sob. He smiled wider, knowing it was happy crying. He brought you closer, touched his forehead to yours.

“We had so many adventures and experiences and I feel- I know there’s still so much waiting for us out there,” he pointed to the city to your side, before grabbing your hand again. You didn’t take your eyes off of him, though. “The whole world is ours now, it can start right here, and I want you with me. Our adventure just began.”

“There’s many more to come, right?” you asked.

“Many more to come, baby,” he answered, leaned in to kiss you, smiling against your lips and you knew it, then. You knew you had found whatever it was that you’d been searching for.

You were truly, undoubtedly, unquestionably at home.

Eddie was your home.

You couldn’t wait for all your tomorrows with him.

taglist: @amira0303 @rupsmorge @wyverntatty @inourtownofhawkins

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #lui writes #ifligh

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rjtaylorsversion · 6 months

Text

1989 TV Impressions in Album Order (after a few listens)

welcome to New York - first listen sonically it sounded wildly different to me, and the intro still does, but I like it! It feels so crisp and clean, but still so fun. Perfect intro to 1989 as always.

blank space - similar consensus it sounded so different on first listen, and I’ll be honest I don’t love the new click sound, but the little giggle when she says nightmare is adorable. It’s a classic!

style - somehow this is the one that sonically feels the MOST different to me. The base line is heavier throughout than in the original, and the iconic electric guitar intro takes a bit more of a backseat. In the chorus her voice is more elevated above the music and sounds so crisp, I love that! Overall everything production wise sounds better IMO. To me it sounds just like it does when she sings it in the Eras Tour!

out of the woods - hearing the iconic intro “oh oh ohs” SO CRISP was mind blowing, it’s even better than the original, I will take no shit over this. OOTW TV is better than the OG. The bridge still goes just as hard, and the background vocals are heavenly.

all you had to do was stay - those super high “stay”s still slay for sure. This one sounds to me very much like its OG counterpart, the harmonies do seem better blended throughout though than in the OG and I love that you can hear all the layers of her voice!

shake it off - perfect as always! Even though this song was so overplayed once upon a time, Taylor’s Version is making me love it again!

I wish you would - another intro like style where the guitar intro seems to have been toned down slightly, which doesn’t sound bad, I just wish it was more forward! Other than that, very similar to OG, but still sonically clearer and better! The little synth in the pre-chorus towards the end is amazing.

bad blood - YESSSS. Still sounds so angsty, the “heys” are SO GOOD. I’ve still always loved the version with Kendrick the best, and I’m so glad they didn’t make us wait too long for that!

wildest dreams - this one has already been out for a while, and it’s always sounded good and very much like the OG!

how you get the girl - I’ve always freaking loved this one, and it doesn’t not disappoint. I love the poppy baseline just as much as I did when it first came out, the chorus still slaps 100%. And I love the little electronic synthy swoop additions we get on the second round of the end of the chorus, and her squeaky “yeah-ah-ah”

this love - this one has also been out for a while, but her vocals are stunning and I love when the drums kick in on the second verse!

I know places - oh my god the distortion on the intro “I—I—I”s is EVERYTHING. It sounds so freaking good. And the “WE RUUUUN” in the second chorus gives me literal chills. 10000/10 Taylor’s Version really gave us this one 100%. SHE ATE THIS ONE UP.

clean - the vocals are clear and sparkling, and the song is emotionally devastating us as it always did before. The layering of the harmonies and different voices is absolutely heavenly especially in the pre-chorus and chorus

wonderland - I have no words for how good this is. The same as I’ve said before on the other songs, the production is so clear and crisp and her voice sounds so mature and insanely good.

you are in love - one of my favorites from the OG deluxe version, I remember listening to this at night in my car as an 18 year old dreaming of a love like that, and being completely swept up in the lyricism and gentle melody of the song. TV brings back all those feelings and then some, especially now being married to the love of my life. This song is so freaking special to me. 🤍 the “ahhhhh ahh ahhhhh”s at the end of this song are angelic, especially with headphones!

new romantics - a certified BANGER as it has always been. Literally no notes, her voice is CRISP and the song is amazing.

vault tracks

slut! - I absolutely love the lyrics of this song, although I definitely expected a different vibe like everyone else I think. I love the color visualizations laid throughout and the laid back sound of the song in general. I like this song a lot, but it’s not my favorite of the vault songs’

say don’t go - the lyrical twin to all you had to was stay in my opinion, the flipped perspective. Love the use of the heavy baseline in the verses and pre-chorus while the chorus itself is more elevated. We also get the vocal echoes on “say….don’t….go” during the chorus and echoes on the bridge which sonically is very cohesive with 1989 as a whole!

now that we don’t talk - the hook is SO GOOD. I love the chorus, and I just in general love the feel of finally starting to feel yourself again after getting out of a relationship and realizing all the things that weren’t good about it. All in all, great addition to the album!

suburban legends - this song fits the sound of 1989 extremely well, but also somehow feels like it could be from Midnights? But I love the vocals especially on the chorus! I love the sparkly synth in this song too!

is it over now? - this is it, this is THE vault track. So far it looks like this is the fan favorite and I certainly don’t divert from that opinion. The LYRICS ARE GIVING and I am overall just obsessed with this. It sounds amazing and fits in the album perfectly, I can’t believe we didn’t get this on the OG album. “Let’s fast forward to 300 take out coffees later” has me in a chokehold as well as the “oH lord.” 18 years old of me would have had this on repeat in 2014, and 27 year old me is no different!

bonus

bad blood ft Kendrick Lamar - YES YES YES. it’s everything I wanted, I always loved this remix and it still gives everything. on repeat, nonstop.

If you made it through all of that, thanks for reading and share your thoughts/emotions/anything about 1989 TV below!

#1989 taylor's version #from the vault #taylornation #swifties #taylor swift #1989 era #1989 tv #Spotify

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heliopauseentertainments · 2 years

Text

Chainsaws Solve Everything

For fandomweekly challenge #150 - Paradox. Placed 1st.

Continuity: IDW1

Rating: General

Relationship: Rodimus & Ultra Magnus

Characters: Rodimus & Ultra Magnus Warnings: Complete and utter nonsense, crack

Summary: In which Rodimus has a cunning plan to rid the ship of statistically unlikely monsters.

Crossposting: AO3 | DreamWidth | fandomweekly entry | Pillowfort

Fic under cut

"This conversation is ridiculous.”

Not this again.

"You are ridiculous.”

Happening again, yep.

“Everything that's happened in the last few days is intensely ridiculous.”

It was like Ultra Magnus had heard Megatron say that entire spiel the once and decided to save it for his own use later. As much as Rodimus had gotten used to Magnus being more than a little overbearing, that didn’t mean he wanted to hear about it.

“Mags, can you dial it back?” he asked, revving up the chainsaw he’d yanked off the cargo bay’s wall.

What a weird place to leave a chainsaw, but Rodimus wasn’t going to look a gift equid in the mouth.

Not this time.

Last time he’d gotten his hand bitten clean off. Lesson learned.

“It’s not my fault that the nebulous shadow creatures infesting the ship and harassing the crew are fatally allergic to the sounds of unlikely, but conveniently located chainsaws.”

“It is your fault.”

Magnus pointed at him in accusation.

“You insisted that we fly towards that anomaly. And, for the last time, they’re not ‘shadow creatures’! They’re….”

The large second-in-command paused, struggling to think of a more “scientific” name for the dark, aggressive, intangible blobs floating about their ship wreaking mischief after pouring out of the rift in spacetime that had been at the center of the anomaly.

“They’re—“

“Shadow creatures, Mags,” Rodimus interrupted.

“But, yes, you’re right. I did, but it’s fine now. I’m fixing it, I’m fixing it—“

He flippantly waved the chainsaw around. A good way to take off someone’s nose if one weren’t careful, but it would be fine. He would just waggle it at the shadow clones in the hallway, they’d dissipate, and they’d be back on the bridge before Megatron would ever find out there had been a problem.

To think the big guy was finally defeated… and by a little nanite-based bug. The only reason Rodimus had the free reign to go explore the anomaly was because his co-captain was sleeping the sickness off in his claustrophobic habsuite.

“I’d say you should have tried to stop me, but, let’s be honest, I would have just overruled you anyway.” Rodimus threw a thumb towards the sealed doors of the cargo bay. “You’ve got the extra fuel canisters, right? Can’t have the Chopinater Supreme run dry.”

“You’ve named the chainsaw what?”

“You can just say you don’t want to have to tell Megatron what happened. That’s okay.” Rodimus gave Ultra Magnus a firm, but friendly pat on the arm. “He’ll find out anyway when we use the bridge’s PA system to broadcast the chainsaw noises. If he’s not dead, he’ll wake up.”

He paused, putting his hand on his chin in thought, the roaring chainsaw dangling dangerously from his other hand, its powerful motor struggling to escape.

“Actually, even if he is, it’ll probably still wake him up.” Rodimus shrugged. “Anyway, we have some shadow creatures to shout apart. Just think, we’re using the power of sound to murder some monsters.”

#fic #drabble #rodimus #ultra magnus #rodimags #maccadam #idw1 #mtmte

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hopelesshawks · 2 years

Note

This is the person who did the paint request, I just wanted to add that you can do as many of the characters as you want (obviously). And I would like for the characters and their S/O to be in their 20s or smt

Tumblr ate my draft of this for some reason 💀 but SUMMARY basically this is how Tendou, Iwaizumi, Bakugo, and Hawks would react to walking in on reader painting themselves

I can’t remember if these were headcanons but considering the number of characters I’ll assume so 😅 sorry if there were more specifics you requested that I couldn’t get too. All I could remember from the original were the very basics like the characters and that it wasn’t like a tiny cute amount it was like an absurd amount of paint. Anyway hope you enjoy!

Tendou

Fully joins you without hesitation

Like literally no questions asked

Actually just kidding he has one question and it’s ‘Why the fuck didn’t you invite me?’

Both of you make an absolute mess but it’s an amazing time

I feel like he’s haphazard about it when he paints himself, quickly covering his long limbs

Once he’s got himself covered though I think he’d turn to help you and he’d be gentle about it, staring at you with heart eyes the whole time

Iwaizumi

Is Concerned(tm)

Asks what you’re doing very cautiously and proceeds depending on your answer

If it’s a comfort thing he won’t question it any further

Will sit down across from you and ask if you want help

It’s cool if you don’t he’ll just vibe with you so you have a buddy when you do it

If it’s not a comfort thing and it’s more a just “idk man the intrusive thoughts won” thing then he’s judging

Like in a loving way

But definitely judging

Still supports you though even if he’s Very Confused

Bakugo

So done

Literally deadass stops in the doorway, has to process like his brain is running on dial up, and then squeezes the bridge of his nose

“The fuck are you doin’ dumbass?” but with absolutely zero bite to it

Bitches about the mess you’re making but if you even so much as suggest you’ll clean it up yourself he’ll get personally offended

Grouchy but secretly thinks it’s adorable

Is content to watch you do your thing but don’t expect him to join you and start painting himself as well

(Unless you give him puppy dog eyes, the complete and utter simp)

Hawks

Stares at you like a stalker from the doorway or window for like 30 minutes before you notice him

Is completely unrepentant if you call him creepy for it

Just will waggle his eyebrows at you and make some quip about being too hot to be a stalker or something equally inane

Insufferable(tm)

Another one who will adjust his reaction based on why you’re doing it

Gets real gentle if it’s a comfort thing, continues to be a gremlin if it’s not

Will sit across from you and watch with hearts in his eyes like the disgusting simp he is

If you try to catch him off guard and paint him he’ll absolutely catch you before you can

Will offer to let you paint him too but only for a price

A kiss, the price is a kiss and he absolutely will secretly get flustered if you actually agree

#haikyuu headcanons #my hero academia headcanons

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crowcryptid · 3 years

Note

oh shit I heard about what happened with the buildings, I hope you'll be alright man

I’ll be fine it’s just like. Not something you’d ever expect to see. Ya know?

#same with the fiu bridge collapse a few years back #but that hit me harder cause I saw it being built and passed under it a few times.. and after it collapsed they just left the rubble #off the side of the road for a long time. It was there for like. idk a year or more.#and they didn’t even completely clean it up. the base of the bridge is still there.#god i hate it here #hell state. hell city.

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Note

Could you do a sub Peter Parker cumming in his pants from dry humping??? Maybe a bit of overstim???🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

🧍🏼‍♀️ fuck yes I can, as always, any Peter you want, and minors dni

—

You run a gentle hand through Peter’s hair, his eyes closing as he leans into your hand. He burrows his head further into your chest, eyes blissfully closed as you lounge on your bed.

The second you’d gotten home from your dinner date, an admittedly exhausting affair at a fine dining restaurant, he’d herded you over to the bed and flopped down on top of you.

So now you’re here, squished against the bed with Peter’s head on your chest and his legs around your waist.

It starts slow, a subtle shift of his hips against yours, but he gets more ambitious with time, and soon it’s a slow, rhythmic motion.

He hasn’t bothered picking his head up yet so you do it for him, hooking a finger under his chin and tilting it upwards. His eyes are delicately slipped shut, teeth gently grating against his bottom lip as his eyebrows furrow.

“What’s goin’ on down there?” You run a finger up the bridge of Peter’s nose, stopping between his eyebrows and smoothing out the hair that had been brushed out of place.

“Feels s’good,” his whine is more of a whisper than anything else, eyes scrunching tighter as he picks up the pace. You gently prop yourself up with your elbows, meeting his clothed hard-on with even more pressure as he ruts against you. The action gets you a soft whimper and your hand falls from his chin, letting him bury his face in your shoulder.

The hand that had just been propped up on his forehead came to gently tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, eliciting a groan from the man on top of you. You raise your hips as best you could, feeling Peter’s clothed cock grow harder and harder against your evening attire. Your outfit is thin and leaves almost no sensation to the imagination, and you aren’t able to ignore the soft fire that ignites in your belly.

You continue to run a hand through the hair at the base of Peter’s scalp, tugging softly every now and then as his hips roll faster and faster against you. You gently pry his head out of your neck, cooing softly at his flushed cheeks and teary eyes, pressing a soft kiss to his nose.

“Doin’ s’good, Pete. Y’think you’re gonna cum like this? So worked up for me, ‘n we’re still dressed. You needed this, didn’t you baby?”

Peter nods eagerly, a choked sob coming from his throat as you run your fingers through his hair. You dig your nails into his scalp, running the same sweeping patterns through his hair but this time with more force, and it has Peter’s mouth falling open, a silent scream on his lips as he babbles.

“Yes, yes, yes, needed it, needed it so much, need it so much. I need it, I’m gonna cum, (Y/N), I’m gonna cum-”

You barely have time to process his string of whines before he’s shaking, legs trembling as he tries to hold himself up from completely collapsing on top of you. You continue to stroke his hair, the feeling of your nails against his scalp only lengthening his orgasm. His face is set in a pout, eyes droopy as tears brim in his eyelids. His breathing is heavy and fast against your neck, stomach muscles clenched as he comes down from his high.

You gently reach down, peering at your own outfit that was pressed against Peter’s now soiled one. There’s cum on the both of you, but honestly, you’re both too far gone to care. Peter’s squirming at your feather-light touches and you decide not to torture him, wrapping your arm around his back and rubbing soft circles on his skin through his dress shirt.

“Gonna have to get these clothes dry cleaned, y’know. Next time you cum in your pants, could you make sure you’re wearing jeans or something?” There’s a teasing timbre in your voice but Peter seems too spent to notice it, a frown plaguing his features as he peels his eyes open.

“Sorry, pretty. I didn’t mean to, I-I just got caught up and-”

You shush Peter as soon as you realize that he hadn’t recognized your sarcasm, kissing the soft skin of his forehead and tucking his head back against your chest.

“‘S okay Pete, it was a joke. Jus’ glad you feel good, that’s all that matters.”

You can feel Peter’s eyelashes brush against your neck, fluttering sleepily as he presses a soft kiss to the skin of your throat, the only place he’s got enough energy to reach. Your hand has never left his hair, still gently raking through the strands, and you continue to run your fingers through it until you can feel his breath against your neck evening out, slowing down, and his eyelashes finally stopping in their fluttering motions. You feel yourself drifting off as well, warm and cozy under Peter as night slowly falls outside your apartment.

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saynotoshityouhate · 3 years

Text

For Science Ch. 5

Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 // Ch. 3 // Ch. 4

Words: 1781

Tags: angst, love, neediness, bathtub sex, he’s too big but (spoiler) we make it work.

It had been three days. Three long, agonizing days since Bruce slammed the front door and ran away. Yesterday he sent a text, asking if he could come home. Seeing his name light up your screen made your heart jump, so happy to know he was safe and coming back to you. You responded with an enthusiastic yes.

He’d never left like this before - you’d never had a fight or had a moment where his emotions took over so badly. Of course you’d welcome him back, you’d never worried he would hurt you. Not anymore - not since he’d found this new happy medium between his two personas. Bruce clearly wasn’t as confident.

It was hard having him gone for those first few days of your new job at the university, and you’d wished he’d been there to laugh at some of the silly mistakes you had made. His bellowing chuckles were some of your favorite noises in the world.

Pulling up the driveway after classes were through, you saw Bruce’s car parked back in its normal place. Your stomach flipped, unsure what to expect, although you were mostly excited to see him.

You quietly opened the back door, walking into the kitchen. Taking off your heels, you heard soft, muffled classical music and smelled lavender and citrus. You smiled, heading straight to the master bath. The door was cracked open slightly, and you could see the warm glow of candles dancing across the shiny tile walls.

You knocked quietly on the door and pushed it open gently, just enough to stick your head inside. “Bruce?”

Bruce’s head was resting against the cool tile behind him, his eyes closed and his breathing regular. He must have just fallen asleep, his large frame filling most of the oversized jacuzzi tub. “Bruce?” You whispered again, awakening him from his dream. His warm eyes met yours, taking a moment to focus and register that you were really there. “Y/N, I -“ Bruce rested his hands on the side of the tub, beginning to push himself up to greet you. “No, no - stay there, you look so peaceful.” You nervously played with the hem of your untucked blouse.

“May I?” You lifted your hands to the top buttons of your blouse, pausing for Bruce’s approval. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he nodded, adjusting his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose. You proceeded in unbuttoning your crisp white shirt, setting it off to the side. Your back was turned to the submerged Bruce, but you knew the slight shimmy of your hips as you stepped out of your skirt and panties would excite him.

You backed yourself over to the edge of the tub, presenting your back to Bruce. He loved unclasping your bra for you. He took pride in being able to do it with just a flick of his finger, and seeing the tension leave your back and shoulders filled him with warmth. You moved the straps down your shoulders and dropped it to the floor, reveling in the ease of domestic life with Bruce - even in this uncomfortable silence.

Lowering yourself into the bubbles across from him, you sighed. The last few days had been hard on you, you were worried about Bruce, had started your new job, and had been brainstorming on ways to reverse your boyfriend’s physical predicament. You stretched your legs out in front of you, resting them against Bruce’s thighs. He took one foot in his large hand, rubbing the arch with gentle pressure. Your eyes fluttered closed at the wonderful release.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for how I reacted.” Bruce’s eyes were cast downwards in shame. “I was so upset with myself, I didn’t want to risk anything happening…” You interrupted him. “No, I overreacted. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just happy you’re back.” You poked him with your other foot, asking him to do the same magic there as well.

“Where did you go?” You asked timidly, not sure you really wanted to know the answer. “I just went to the tower - Tony left my room as-is…just in case.” You made a noise of acknowledgement, your fingers idly playing with the bubbles that adorned your chest.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” Bruce extended a hand, inviting you to come closer. You accepted, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I was scared, Bruce.” He held your face in his hand, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.”

You kissed him fiercely, as if you wanted him to stop talking before he gave any excuses or reasons to leave again. You couldn’t help the whimpers leaving your chest, three days was a long time for you two to be apart.

Bruce’s cock throbbed against you, eliciting a groan from the large man. “I missed you so much,” he mumbled, nipping and sucking at your neck and collar bone. Moving to straddle his waist, Bruce’s hands found your hips, helping hold you steady.

“I wanna try - I think I can do it - I wanna try.” You ground your hips against his hardening length, your breaths already ragged and uneven. You knew it would hurt, but you wanted to do this for him. You were certainly wet enough. “No, I don’t wanna hurt you, don’t-“

You had your mind made up. Your much smaller hand took Bruce’s from his waist, bringing it to your core. “Stretch me out, please. I need you.” He could never resist you. Slowly inserting one large digit, knuckle by knuckle, his eyes were trained on you, closely monitoring for any inkling of pain or discomfort. You were feeling nothing of the sort. Your head was thrown back, the stretch sending delicious shockwaves through your limbs.

“One more, please” you breathed. “Y/N, I-“ You shot him a look, like daggers from your irises. “One. More. Please.” Bruce sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He adjusted his fingers, slowly adding a second, drawing a moan from deep inside you. “I think - I think I’m ready. Please - give it to me? Let me make you feel good. Please?”

“Baby, I’m not sure about this. Let’s just start here, you’re taking me so well, maybe next time, we gotta take it slow.” You whined, loudly, and bucked your hips down onto his two, thick fingers. The water of the tub splashed over the edge. “Don’t wan’ take it slow, Bruce. Wan’ you - your cock. Puhleeeaase, Bruce.”

“The minute anything starts to hurt, you have to tell me, okay? Promise?” You nodded your head vigorously before pulling him closer and kissing him in gratitude. Bruce slowly removed his digits, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing but the bath water.

Bruce’s eyes were dark with lust, but still maintained the warmth of his concern for you. He held your gaze as he aligned himself with your opening. Every millimeter seemed to take an hour, your breath hitching in your throat as you stretched further to accommodate him. Bruce held your hips tightly, trying to maintain control and composure as you took him so well. It had been years since he felt the velvety warmth of a woman around him.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he continued to move slowly and methodically. You focused on your breathing, in through your nose, out through your mouth - pushing out whines and whimpers along the way. You attempted to hide your face in the crook of his neck, but Bruce pushed you back, wanting to keep an eye on you. “You’re doing so well, my girl, look at you.”

Looking down, you expected to see that he had completely bottomed out inside you, but there was plenty more left to go. His hand held the base, not allowing you to go any further, if that was even possible. You smiled up at him, so proud of yourself, feeling so full.

Bruce’s heart swelled - and he could finally relax knowing you were okay…better than okay really. You began to rock your hips, exploring your body’s limits, feeling the push and pull of Bruce against your walls. It was worth the effort.

You established a comfortable rhythm, riding him slowly, but forcefully. The waves of now lukewarm water splashed around you, adding to the symphony of delicious noises you both were making - the feelings sending you both into nonverbal bliss. Bruce began to tense, and you weren’t far behind. The only one with a free hand, you reached down to access your clit, quickly sending shockwaves of pleasure ripping through you. You clenched down on Bruce’s girth as you climaxed, sending him over the edge with you. His guttural growl sent vibrations through your skin as he filled you up for the very first time. You collapsed into him, every muscle giving out from the pain and exertion.

Bruce held your weakened body in his arms, both of you exhausted beyond belief. The tub had turned cold and you began to shiver. Concerned, he held you tightly with one arm while he used the other to push himself out of the bath. You clung tightly to his neck as he walked you to the bedroom. Placing your down gently, he dried you off with a towel and handed you your robe to snuggle up into before returning to clean up the bathroom. Once you were dressed, you crawled back to the pillows aligned neatly on your bed and waited for Bruce to return.

Wrapped up in your fluffy robe, you nuzzled into Bruce’s chest. “Can I ask you a question?” Your fingers idly traced his chest, droplets of water still gripping the coarse hairs on his sternum. Bruce grunted in the affirmative, his eyelids were heavy the minute his head hit the pillow. “If you could, you know, switch back. Would you?”

Bruce hummed. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. Done some basic calculations, consulted with colleagues…but that was all before.”

“Before what?” You whispered, tipping your head to look up at him, his eyes still closed gently.

“Before you. Before our life together. Before I saw the way your eyes light up when I enter a room. You read about that sort of thing in books, right? But I never knew it was real. And me? Of all people? In this state?” You sat up, captivated by his words, tears welling up and blurring your vision. His eyes met yours, one hand tracing your spine, while the other held yours.

“So no. I’m not interested in changing back. I am Bruce Banner, I am the Hulk, and I love you.”

#saynotoshityouhate #for science #bruce banner angst #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #professor hulk x reader #professor hulk #marvel smut #avengers fic

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mara-xx217 · 3 years

Note

Pokes head

May I request Michael being a possessive daddy and fighting a killer who hurt his girlfriend ? It can be anyway you like 💙

Why of course you can~ This isn’t based in Dbd, but the normal world. Hope you don’t mind!

Possessive, Protective Mikey

You were like some sort of disease to Michael. Or, perhaps, a parasite was a better descriptor of how you affected him. You wormed your way into him, deep into his chest, right beside his cold, soulless heart. You made him… feel, regardless of what that actually meant, it was beyond unacceptable in his eyes. That warm, painful throbbing in his chest was more than distracting, it was nauseating, disturbing. Terrifying… In a sick, twisted, wrong way, you terrified the Shape of Haddonfield. Michael fucking Myers was absolutely terrified of a small, defenseless creature that was completely helpless against the evil and cruelty he wielded against the world. He should kill you a hundred thousand times over for this transgression! But… it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He only… feels more empty every time your cheeks are stained with tears. Cold. Dead. Michael would feel dead without you…

This isn’t the first time he’s caught someone hurting you. It’s happened many, many times over, and his reaction has ranged from blinded rage to searing hatred. Not just for the one harming you, but towards you, yourself. It was that lack of control that drove Michael insane. He couldn’t watch you 24/7, couldn’t always follow you around or know where you were at any given moment… It drove him fucking crazy, and he took that frustration out on not just the asshole unfortunate enough to have crossed paths with you, but onto you, as well.

But, even that was quickly losing its luster to him. Michael had thought that hurting you would bring him some sort of fulfillment, like it has always done in the past when he had hurt others. It never has, though. Sure, he’s lied to himself, trying desperately to convince himself that seeing you all small, all scared and teary-eyed brought him a measure of enjoyment, to have your blood on his hands, to have you groveling in terror before him- but it didn’t. It- He- Michael felt… not good, when that happened. You made him… stop to consider how his actions would affect you, and he hated that.

Michael despises that you’re a magnet for trouble. That you just can’t seem to stay the hell away from people that want to do you harm. Sure, he doesn’t mind killing them. Quite the opposite, in fact, he rather enjoys seeing them covered in their own blood, begging for their pathetic lives before he mercilessly snuffs them out. No, Michael hates that you get hurt in the first place. The only one that should ever have the right to put their hands on you was him! Him, and him alone. Anyone else would be destroyed.

Some wannabe serial killer punk had set his eyes on you. Luckily for you, Michael knew better than to leave you to your own devices, anymore. He caught the little bastard scoping out your home before you had any idea of the danger you were in. He’d make sure that, this time, he’d be in complete control of the situation. You won’t be hurt, but that idiot thinking that he can do as he pleases? He’s going to regret the day he was born…

Sitting in your kitchen, you drank what must be your fifth coffee of the night. Strange things were happening, and it left you unable and unwilling to sleep at night. Rustling outside your windows, the sound of someone possibly jimmying your doors and windows, looking for a possible way in… Muddy footprints on your porch and small, dead animals left on your door mat… It was becoming too much. You’re… pretty sure it wasn’t Michael. He did love to torment you, but this wasn't really his thing. He was much more… direct, with his approach to you. This… this was someone else…

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you rub your eyes, feeling them water involuntarily from how dry they were. Anxiously, you tap your fingers on the top of the counter, before sighing heavily and grabbing your coffee mug. You decided to make your way to the living room, thinking that some TV would help calm your nerves and get your mind off of things. Fuck, I’m exhausted… You thought bitterly as you crashed onto the couch, nearly spilling lukewarm coffee all over yourself.

Picking up the remote, you absentmindedly flipped through channels, not really wanting to watch anything. It was just something else to focus on, rather than the impending sense of dread that was washing over you. This feeling was one that you were well acquainted with: the feeling of being watched. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your palms were slick with sweat. Slowly, you sit up, clumsily placing your mug on the table in front of you. The hairs on your entire body stood on end. Something’s not right here…

As you begin to rise off the couch, a firm hand pushes you back down into a sitting position. Your heart jumped up into your throat. You’re very familiar with Michael’s hands, and the one still gripping your shoulder was much, much smaller than his… Short, shaky breaths escaped through your clenched teeth. Fuck..! Oh shit- Oh my God no no no-! You don’t dare to move, only stare straight ahead at nothing as your mind runs wild with possibilities. Who the hell is it?! How did they get in?! Why me?! Where the fuck is Michael when I fucking need him?!?

The intruder sucks in a deep breath, as though he’s about to say something, but instead yelps in surprise as he’s ripped away from you suddenly and violently. You gasp, shooting up and scrambling across the room, back peddling into an opposing corner. Curling in on yourself, you crumple onto the floor, watching the brutality unfolding before you through the cracks of your fingers.

Michael had thrown the intruder back, sending him crashing into a mostly bare bookshelf, breaking most of the shelves along with it. You cringe and jump, feeling your insides twist and revolt against you. Michael drops to the floor, straddling the winded, smaller man as he desperately tries to fight back. Vainly. It was laughable, really. The idiot didn’t stand a chance against the human incarnation of evil, itself.

Michael briefly debated on playing with his food. There was something about seeing them crawl and beg that really set him off, but when he glanced at you over his shoulder, in the fetal position and hyperventilating, he actually decided against it. It was getting under his skin seeing you like this, and the quicker this is… inconvenience is dealt with, the quicker things will be back to normal. Well, to Michael’s fucked up definition of the word “normal”, that is.

With a quick stab to the back of his neck, the intruder was killed. Normally, Michael would have painted the walls with this creep’s blood, but he decided that it would be too much of a pain in the ass to clean up. With a flick of his wrist, Michael twists and pulls out the blade, wiping the excess blood onto the back of his victim’s shirt. He looks back over to you, and sees you stiffen. His… Huh. His chest actually hurts…

With a heavy sigh, he stands, stepping over the dead body as he makes his way over to you. A major part of you was beyond terrified. Is he gonna hurt me..? Oh- Oh God..! I’m gonna- I’m- I’m gonna..! You were trembling, shaking so hard that your teeth were actually chattering audibly. Michael’s eye twitched. He was conflicted: one part of him loved that you were this scared of him, as you should be, but the other… the other hated it. He- Well, he wanted… something, but he just didn’t know what. Fingers twitching, he reached out to you, struggling to ignore how you froze as he slowly approached you.

You really thought that he was going to grab you by the hair and drag you off to the bedroom, so when his fingertips just barely brushed the top of your head, moving the hair from your face, you were, well… at a bit of a loss. Michael has never, ever been that gentle while touching you. Ever. You raise your head slightly, just enough so that you could see him. He still had that damn mask on, of course, and his body language hardly betrayed what he was thinking or feeling, but- You couldn’t deny that his fingers were trembling ever so slightly.

He slowly crouches in front of you, treating you as though you're some kind of animal that will either bolt at the slightest movement or go for his jugular, or something like that. You don’t move or speak, unsure of what he was doing. When he placed his hand where that stalker touched you, gently- carefully squeezing your shoulder as though you were made of glass, you… you relaxed.

You could tell that he was struggling to be gentle, with how his fingers twitched uncontrollably and the pressure of his fingertips varied. You looked up to him, then down at his chest as an odd warmth spread through your cheeks. Michael was extremely possessive over you. He hated it when you interacted with anyone else, especially other men. But, right now, even though another man had touched you, he wasn’t flying off the handle like he usually did. He was still extraordinarily pissed off that he had given the bastard just enough time to physically touch you, but it was remedied.

He was fucking dead, and you were still here. You were his and his alone. That wasn’t called into question. There was no dispute. Michael Myers is the only person that is ever allowed to touch you. You’ve come to accept this, and slowly but surely, you’re even beginning to enjoy his touch. As sick and messed up as it was, you’ve started to develop feelings for him, despite the fact that he made your life a living hell. If anything, you knew that no one would hurt you ever again. No one, except for him.

#Halloween #Michael Myers #Michael Myers x reader #og michael myers

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2goth2moth · 3 years

Note

Any sort of smut with a naga or feral mothman like creature please and thank you

Anon, you said "naga" and my lil scaly heart got so happy. I have no idea if this is even remotely in the realm of what you were looking for, but I just couldn't shake the idea of a human prince with a harem full of monsters. I hope you enjoy!

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The Prince's Favour (M!Naga x M!Reader, NSFW)

For reference: Enéas is a Brazilian rainbow boa. I was 100% going to have a blowjob scene in this but rainbow boas have backwards hooked teeth (think fishhooks) that are designed to not let things back out, and having that near your dick sounds like a very bad time.

Word count: 3514

Includes: Power dynamics (prince x concubine), non-human genitalia, rough sex, double penetration, a little bit of crying

Being the youngest prince in a kingdom with a still-living king could be overwhelmingly boring. Matters of state were passed to your parents and eldest sister, matters of security to your next oldest sibling, infrastructure and agriculture to the next oldest, twin brothers. Your bloodline was long and vital, which was very good for the kingdom’s longevity. It was not so good for keeping you occupied. Your role, as well as your youngest sister’s, ended up being almost completely performative, with official duties being limited to keeping up a royal education and looking pretty beside your family during public appearances. The whole arrangement left you with a lot of free time to eat and draw and lounge about.

And have sex.

It was normal for royalty to have lovers or harems, if they wanted to and their spouses were okay with it. You yourself had several lovers, all of whom you enjoyed and cared about deeply. One of whom was currently lounging invitingly on your bed as you did your best to capture his likeness in paint.

“Enéas, beloved, can you hold still for me?”

The naga groaned, the muscular coils of his body shifting slightly as he did. “I’ve been sitting for hours now. When you called me, I didn’t think it would be for this.”

“Ten minutes, then we can do something else. I swear.”

The look that he shot you was long-suffering, but he settled back into the purposefully relaxed position you had directed him into earlier after taking a sip from the goblet beside him.The whole thing was mostly an act. You had been summoning him to your chambers to sit for this painting on a regular basis for the past month, and no matter where the sessions ended (often with you wrapped firmly in his powerful body), you never put on any airs about what those first few hours would entail.

Golden sunlight shone through gauzy curtains and spilled onto Enéas’ skin, setting the scales ablaze. The round black marks that lay over red scales the colour of baked clay were already beautiful, but under the sun’s rays he was cast in a rainbow sheen, every scale shimmering like an oil slick. The creamy scales of his underbelly flowed from his face all the way down, flashing like pale moonlight between his darker coils. Naga rarely wore clothing, they had no real need to, but Enéas had certainly developed a taste for finery during his time in the palace. Fine, sheer cotton, dyed snowy white and rich yellow, draped around him like woven light, held in place by gold clasps. Cuffs set with precious stones circled on his wrists and biceps, and a beautiful metal collar engraved with intricate patterns lay flat against his throat.

“You’re staring, little prince.”

The rasping taunt broke you out of your stupor, and you realized that your eyes had been locked on him, paintbrush unmoving on your canvas. You finished the stroke you had started with a careful flick. Stepping back a little, you surveyed what you had done so far. The hours spent on the portrait had been worth it, and even though it wasn’t done, you could stand to be finished for the day.

“I was distracted,” you said. “You were distracting me.”

A cheeky grin split Enéas’s face. It was hard-edged and full of sharp, hooked teeth, stretching far past what it would have on a human face, but managed to be as lovely and charming as it was frightening. “I have no idea what you mean. I was only sitting here, just like you asked me to.”

“Sitting there in a very distracting way.” You wiped your hands on the sturdy apron you wore before untying it and discarding it messily to the side. “We’re done for today, you can relax now.”

“Finally.” He stretched his arms above his head and groaned loudly before flopping back and letting his eyes close. The movement sent his whole body rippling in the sunlight, and the sight made your mouth go dry.

You strode towards the bed, closing the distance quickly to sit beside Enéas on your plush bedspread. He didn’t even open his eyes when the mattress dipped under your weight. With a feather-light touch, you traced the features of his face with a thumb. The transition from red to white around what would be a hairline was first, the gradient of the small scales dipping low on his forehead and contouring under his eye sockets, the way it pulled back on his temples. The flat bridge of his nose, his sharp jaw, the mouth stretching almost the entire way along the hollows of his cheeks. He just barely leaned into every touch, doing a very good job of pretending like he didn’t care about you sitting next to him and touching him like he was something precious. Each one of his breaths fanned upwards, over your face, and it smelled like the sweet lime cordial he drank moments before.

Your thumb continued its path around his face until it caught on the center on his bottom lip. One of his eyes drifted open, pupil an inky slit on yellow-green sclera, and he parted his lips just enough for his long, forked tongue to flicker out. It wound around the digit, brushing against your knuckles and the sensitive skin between your fingers. Cold spit cooled even further on your skin as Enéas licked over your hand. In a single swift movement he dipped his head forward to take your thumb fully in his mouth. You froze. His lips tightened around it and he sucked, tongue still working you over. You could feel your cock start to fill and you pressed in and down, putting the slightest amount of pressure on the floor of Enéas’ mouth. A low, raspy moan rumbled through him, eyes fluttering closed and back arching prettily.

Putting more pressure on his mouth, you hooked your thumb behind the bone of his lower jaw and forced it down, exposing hooked teeth and making his tongue loll. “Get me ready, beloved, and be thorough.” You leaned down to press a sweet kiss to the edge of his scaly jaw. “I want both of them today.”

Enéas’s eyes snapped open. His pupils were blown wide in excitement and arousal, and he flickered his tongue out over your skin again before pulling you down next to him with firm hands. Those same hands didn’t hesitate to begin roaming over your body, making quick work of the fastenings keeping your tunic and trousers closed before pulling his own scant clothing off.

“It would be my pleasure, Your Highness,” he said. The sound was already breathless, and sounded so beautiful that it hurt.

He stripped you of your clothing with an impossible combination of speed and reverence, each touch against your skin burning with affection. Pushing you fully onto your back, he slithered around you, smooth scales dragging against your increasingly bare skin until you lay cradled in his strong coils. A heavy tail coaxed your legs apart as large hands began mapping a path down your body. They skimmed over your throat and chest, pausing to tease each of your nipples to full hardness, and drifted lower, caressing your waist and stomach, scratching soft patterns onto your hips and buttocks, before landing on your thighs. His cool, clever mouth soon followed. A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss landed above your pulse, then the base of your neck, trailing cold saliva over your shoulders and down your breastbone. You moaned quietly, unbidden, and your back arched up off the bed, eyes fluttering closed. Your world narrowed to sensation: the chill on your skin, the plush mattress underneath you, the smooth rasp of scales around you. Enéas’ hands lovingly massaging your thighs.

Your eyes shot open with a gasp when you felt his mouth close around one of your nipples. You could feel his smile against your skin as he suckled on the hardened nub. A little jolt went through you as those wicked teeth grazed over the delicate skin, your cock twitching where it now lay fully erect on your belly. One of his hands wandered up to play with the flushed head, dipping into the pre-cum pooling under it before raising his hand and licking his fingers clean.

Gripping his chin, you dragged his face up to meet yours. “I believe I told you to prepare me, Enéas.” The way you said his name managed to land somewhere between sweetly teasing and bitterly displeased. “We may be lovers, but I am still a prince. This may have been my mistake, though, maybe I wasn’t clear enough for you.” You pulled him up further, tucking your mouth beside his ear so that you could whisper directly to him. “Prepare me, my love, and do it nice and thorough. After you’re done, you will fuck me, with both cocks, until I can’t speak or until you fill me with your cum. Whichever comes later. Am I understood?”

Enéas smiled, pupils completely dilated, and dipped his head down to kiss you. It was salty and bitter from your pre-cum, with the barest hint of the lime cordial underneath. “As you wish, my prince.”

He sat back and lowered himself so that he was lying on his front between your legs. The coil of his body that had been pressing one of your legs open dug in harder, pulling your thigh even further out, and he threw your other leg over his shoulder to get better access between your cheeks. His big hands dug in and pulled them apart, exposing your tight hole to the air of the room. He breathed over it, pressing wet, biting kisses onto the supple flesh of your ass before slipping his tongue out and running it all the way from your hole to your balls. The long, slender fork in the muscle wrapped around you, almost delicately, spreading cold saliva over your balls and the base of your shaft. The chill was a brief shock against your skin that sent sparks zipping through you, making you drop your head back onto the mattress and forcing your breaths out in stuttering pants.

Enéas continued alternating between licking at your rim, just barely breaching the ring of muscle with the tips of his tongue, and suckling gently at your sac, each motion drawing desperate little noises out of you. It felt wonderful, but it was nowhere near enough. Somewhere in your mind you had a brief argument with yourself about whether it would be worth it to abandon all semblance of power and control that you had in order to grind your hips back on his face. On one hand, you were royalty, even splayed naked on your bed, and you liked to hold onto that for as long as you could. On the other, the feeling of his cool scales and wet, fluttering tongue was very rapidly driving that particular thing down your list of concerns.

All of that was wiped from your mind when you felt the blunt tip of one of Enéas’ fingers, slicked with oil from a vial he must have hidden somewhere on him when he started moving. It circled your hole slowly, deliberately, pressing just inside every so often, coaxing the muscle to loosen with practiced care. You wanted to squirm, to tense up under the teasing touches, but you forced yourself to breathe through it and relax as much as possible. This earned you a raspy noise of approval and a kiss to your sensitive inner thigh from your naga lover.

Seconds later, it also earned you one of his gloriously thick fingers carefully worked all the way inside you. Your back curved off the bed, a quiet moan spilling from your lips. He pumped it in and out a few times, just starting to open you up enough for him to continue. As soon as you relaxed, unconscious fists unclenching from the bedspread, a second finger, thick and wet with oil, joined the first. He twisted the two about inside you. Each motion dragged the subtle ridges of his scales along your inner walls, and when he crooked his knuckles deep inside you, you arched up with a breathless moan.

“Ohhhh, fuck.”

Enéas’ head emerged from between your legs, and he smirked at you as he began scissoring his fingers, stretching your rim, brushing up against the spot of blinding pleasure on every thrust. “Well, Your Royal Highness? Am I pleasing you now?”

“You would be pleasing me more if you got on with it,” you snarked at him. He grinned back at you, the tremor in your voice and the way that your whole body had begun quivering betrayed your pleasure too much for him to ever believe that you were honestly upset.

“As my prince wishes.”

He raised himself so that he was braced overtop of you, and he rubbed the head of his upper dick over your entrance. You hadn’t even noticed him teasing his cocks erect and out of the slit that usually kept them hidden, but it wouldn’t surprise you if that was what he had been doing with his other hand while prepping you. A sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth was the only warning you got before he pushed into you with near-maddening gentleness. His cocks were more slender than the average human’s, but they were longer, and were covered with nubby barbs of flexible cartilage that caught deliciously inside you whenever he pulled back. He started rocking his hips into yours, getting deeper and deeper with each stroke, dick not close to filling you up but the barbs stimulating you plenty all on their own. You moaned slightly each time he drew back, cock leaking even more pre-cum between your bodies. Waiting until he was fully seated inside you, body flush against your ass, he began gently massaging your hole, the muscle already stretched tight around him. He moved his fingers in sync with his shallow thrusts, slowly but surely opening your hole enough for him to slip his second cock inside.

You were moaning even more loudly now, shuddering noises of pleasure leaving your lips every time Enéas fucked into you or pressed in on your entrance. His finger disappeared from your skin briefly after a particularly rough thrust left you panting and teary-eyed. You whined at the loss, wriggling further back on his dick. Another rough drive of his hips sent your back arching painfully, mouth dropping open as his index finger slipped into you alongside his shaft.

“Nngg, ah-- fuck, so-oo good,” you mewled.

Enéas started fucking into you with even more ferocity, making your whole body move every single time his hips slammed into your ass. Your cock slapped up onto your stomach with an obscenely wet sound, and left wet smears of clear fluid on your skin each time it hit you. The sounds coming out of you were starting to sound desperate, morphing from regular moans of pleasure to pitiful little whimpers and gasps. You were so overwhelmed by the way that his cock reached so deep inside you and caught so gloriously coming back out that you didn’t even notice a second fingertip tease your rim. You didn’t notice it until the smoothly scaled digit thrust into you alongside his first one. The feeling of it, the stretch of your rim definitely painful now, ripped a shattered cry from you.

Your whole body was tensed up, chest heaving with panting breaths. “Oh shit. Enéas, I’m going to…”

The hand he had been using to hold himself above you darted downwards and locked in a tight ring around the base of your steadily leaking cock. The crescendo quickly building in the pit of your stomach was stopped in its tracks, and you wailed at the blocking of your orgasm. Enéas smirked wickedly at you before lowering his mouth to graze lightly over one of your nipples.

“Patience, little prince,” he chided, “Just hold on a little longer, and you can cum on both of my cocks.”

Each word he spoke was punctuated by him driving his barbed shaft into you and scissoring his fingers wider and wider. Somewhere in the haze of your almost-climax he had stuck a third finger into your hole, and all of them were now stretching you out as far as you could go. His big arms wrapped around your back and he aggressively hoisted you upwards, forcing you to wrap your legs around his body. He slipped his fingers out of you, and almost immediately his lower cock replaced it. The shaft was thicker, the head a little more bulbous, and it filled you up so wonderfully next to his other one. Once he was fully seated, he went still to let you get used to the intense stretch inside of you. You tried to wriggle about in his arm to get him even deeper inside of you, but he used both arms to grip you tight to his body, keeping you still. That mouth of his kept lovingly licking over your chest, going slack to let saliva leak out over his lips and onto your skin.

With a firm grip on your hips and an almost painful amount of care, Enéas lifted you up until only the heads of his dicks remained inside of you. Realizing what he was about to do, you stopped writhing in his grasp, relaxing as much as the position allowed. He hissed a thanks into the thin skin above your breastbone. A slight shift of his weight so that all of his coils lay firmly beneath him, and he lowered you almost all the way down onto him. He pressed sweet kisses to the base of your sternum, then each of your nipples, then to the side of your throat. Settling his face into the warm crook of your neck, he began to raise and lower your along his shafts, using your body to fuck himself to completion.

This new position made his cocks reach impossibly deeper inside of you, spines rubbing against that sweet spot with each stroke. You dropped your head forward against Enéas’ shoulder, moaning loudly. With his previous fierce grip on your tortured cock gone, you felt your orgasm begin to build again. Clear pre-cum dripped out of your slick head and smeared between your bodies. He kept bouncing you on him, breath coming out ragged against your neck as he chased after his own climax.

“Holy shit-- that’s so good…”

Your mouth hung open as heat bubbled up in your gut. You tried to warn Enéas again, but all that came out was a strangled gasp of his name before you were cumming between your bodies with a cry. His sharp mouth curved into a grin pressed into the skin of your shoulder as you went boneless in his arms. He kept driving your body down onto himself mercilessly, paying no mind to your limp form. Your eyes filled with tears and drool leaked from your slackened jaw as you were driven to complete overstimulation from him using your body.

“Mmmmhh-hngg....AH!” You moaned desperately, squirming in his arms, trying to get away from the feeling of his cocks inside you that was quickly starting to get painful. Your hole was fluttering erratically around him, and the grip that Enéas had on your hips stuttered, betraying how close he was.

“My prince, I’m…” he managed to grunt out before he pulled you all the way onto his cocks and came inside of you, clutching your body close to his.

His twin dicks twitched against your sensitive walls as thick white cum spilled inside of you. You wailed at the sensation, your own spent cock trying fruitlessly to twitch erect again. Enéas held you against him for several minutes, catching his breath, before he carefully lifted you off of him and laid you down on the now-soiled sheets. The spines on his shafts caught on your puffy rim as he pulled out, making you wince. Your belly was still sticky from your own orgasm, and gobs of Enéas’s cum leaked from your hole, making you feel even filthier. You were completely and utterly fucked-out and content as you lay there in a warm stupor. Cold lips kissed away tears that you hadn’t noticed had fallen, and a hand rubbed comforting circles into the back of your neck. He shifted his body to wrap around you in heavy coils that felt safe and warm, despite his cold blood. You stayed there, cradled against his familiar body, being covered in soft kisses and soothing caresses, until the shaky aftershocks of both of your climaxes dissipated. Once they had, you curled onto your side so that you could nuzzle your face into his scaly neck,

“So?” Enéas whispered into your ear, peppering the side of your face with affectionate pecks. “Did I please you, my prince?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, nibbling on his jaw slightly. “You absolutely did, beloved.”

#monster fucker #monster lover #exophilia #terato #monster x human #naga #tw crying #smut #nsft #minors do not interact #terfs dont fucking touch #seriously if i see a fucking terf i'll fight you #bigots dni

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gamergirl929 · 3 years

Text

They Hate Each Other (No They Don't, Not Really) (Alex Morgan x Reader)

All would agree, your arch nemesis showing up absolutely anywhere you were would ruin your day, but that’s EXACTLY what happens to one veteran USWNT player, Alex Morgan, when she runs into her arch nemesis at the USWNT camp.

Alex Morgan’s eyes widen, pure rage running through her when you strut towards her, bag in hand.

“You shouldn’t look at your soon to be teammate like that Morgan, frowning gives you wrinkles.” You wink, the forward’s lip curling in a snarl.

“What’s she doing-

“I DON’T KNOW.” Alex yells, nearly making Kelley jump out of her skin.

Alex was absolutely livid, seeing you at the USWNT camp had been a surprise, and not a wonderful one.

The second Alex spotted Vlatko Andonovski she advances angrily on the man, who’s looking at her as if he expected this reaction.

“Alex-

“What the hell!? We’re you going to tell me? To tell US?!” She yells, louder than intended, but you’d riled her up in way no one had before.

“I didn’t know you were the coach this year Morgan, if I did, I would’ve stayed home.” You snark, your smirk making Alex growl.

“Shut UP!” She yells and you laugh.

“We should room together Morgan, I think we’d make GREAT roommates.”

Alex growls, mumbling under her breath.

“It’ll be easier to smother you in your sleep then.”

You smirk cockily.

“Kinky.”

Alex snarls angrily.

“Listen.” Vlatko holds a hand up, glancing your way before turning back to Alex.

“Y/N is one of the best players in the world, having her at our camp, and possibly on the team brings our team up to the next level. I saw a chance, and I took it.”

Alex shakes her head.

“But-

He shakes his head.

“I’m sorry Alex.” He pats her on her shoulder before turning away and walking off.

Alex meanwhile is standing stock still, her mouth agape.

Her biggest rival had just joined the USWNT camp, and would PROBABLY join the USWNT.

She growls.

“Fuck.”

***

If you were being honest, you absolutely hated Alex Patricia Morgan, the woman knew how to push your buttons and she did so whenever she could.

You’d met during college, of course, on rival teams, ultimately where your rivalry began, a rivalry that seeped into your NWNT career, and when Alex came overseas, donning the Tottenham Hotspur’s jersey, you were there, wearing a red and white Arsenal’s jersey.

Needless to say, when the two teams squared up, your rivalry continued.

Alex hated you just as much as you hated her, making the competition between the two of you even more fierce.

It surprised literally EVERYONE that the two of you hadn’t killed one another yet.

At this current moment in time though, you were currently literal moments from killing one another.

“I didn’t mean to step on your cleats Morgan, just go to the store when practice is over and buy another pair.” You snort.

Alex lets out a feral growl.

“You are SO fucking infuriating!”

You blow the woman a kiss, which only infuriates her more, the woman stomping her foot before she trudges off.

“Fuck off!” She yells over her shoulder and you scoff.

“You too!”

***

Vlatko rubs the back of his neck watching as you and Alex hurl insults at one another. He’d known about your rivalry, but he wasn’t aware that it went to the extent of actual hatred.

Alex was absolutely fuming as you walked past her, moments after sinking a goal in her team’s net.

“Don’t look so mad Morgan, we both know I’m better than you could ever dream of being.”

Alex stomps passed you, the woman’s shoulder slamming into yours.

You flip around, eyes full of absolute fire.

“Body check me again Morgan, I fucking dare you.” You growl in her face, so much so that your nose brushes hers.

Alex pushes you backwards.

“Nobody tells me what to do on MY FIELD.”

You snicker.

“Your field?” You throw your head back, barking out a laugh, though when you stop laughing you lean towards her, smirking.

“Let’s see how much longer this field is yours, you numpty.”

Alex growls as you walk towards the nearby benches with a confident strut.

“WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!?”

***

“I don’t get why you hate Y/N so much ANYWAY, she seems nice...”

The second the words leave Emily’s mouth she feels as if she’s about to burst into flames from the absolute fiery glare she’s getting from Alex.

Kelley immediately slips in between Alex and Emily, her hands held up in surrender.

“Jan, please don’t kill Emily, who else will carry on the Frat Daddy legacy!?” The defender asks, pleading for her child’s life.

Alex snarls, stomping away from the two of them, all the while mumbling angrily under her breath.

“Y/N NICE?! How could ANYONE put her and NICE in the same fucking sentence???” She snarls, deciding that some time on the field would clear her mind.

***

Though what Alex DOESN’T expect when she gets to the field is to find you there, the field between you and the goal littered with soccer balls.

Alex ducks down when you turn her way, an aggravated snarl leaving you.

“BLOODY HELL!” You yell, Alex’s eyes widening at the thickness of your accent.

She peeks out from her hiding place, watching as you drop down onto the pitch, sitting in a cross-legged position.

Alex frowns when she sees your face is buried in your hands.

“Fuck that shite.” You sigh as you move to your feet, wiping the sweat from your brow with your bare arm.

Alex isn’t sure what possess her to stay for so long, but nearly an hour later you’re still on field, sinking ball after ball in different angles, it’s when you miss one that you angrily snarl.

“Nothing but a right, cock-up!”

Alex shakes her head, her brows furrowed.

Why were you so hard on yourself after you’d done so well within an hours time?

Alex’s eyes widen when she sees you glance her way your brows furrowed.

“Oi! Is someone there?!” You shout, standing stock still.

When no one replies, you give your head a rapid shake, unaware that Alex is currently sprinting away from the scene.

“Must’ve imagined it.”

***

Alex had seen how hard you were on yourself that day, but that in no way quelled her anger entirely considering you were at each other's throats after the fact.

“You did that on fucking PURPOSE!” Alex growls as she’s helped to the bench, her leg injured from an accidental cleating by yours truly.

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you jog over to the bench.

“I didn’t!” You growl as you drop to your knees in front of her, the forward’s eyes wide and brows furrowed when you gently slip her cleat off her foot, along with her sock, now noticing the hints of blood dotting the fabric.

“Shite.” You mumble, swiping the nearby first aid kit from the team’s doctor.

“Yeah, I don’t like you, but I wouldn’t make you purposely bleed.”

Alex watches in something akin to disbelief when you begin to clean her injury with a delicacy that she hadn’t seen from you in, well, ever.

Your touch sent a jolt from her leg through her entire body, a warmth spreading throughout her from a delicate brush of your fingertips.

Moments after you finished dressing her wound, you glance up at her.

“This doesn’t mean I hate you any less.”

You move to your feet, sending the woman a glare before you head back on field.

“Don’t use your leg as an excuse for the shite way you’re playing, you know it’s just because I’m better than you.” You smirk cockily.

Alex’s eyes narrow.

“Better my ass.”

***

The first person who finds out about you making the USWNT, well, besides yourself, is Alex Morgan, considering you actively sought her out, a cocky smirk on your face.

Alex sighs in annoyance.

“I know you made the fucking team, go away.”

You grin grabbing an apple from the table in front of you and take a bite, the apple crunching loudly.

“I’m right where I’m supposed to be actually. Isn’t this where the USWNT members sit?” You grin, earning an eye roll from the forward.

“Yes, but your seat is over there.” She nods towards the trash and you laugh, sucking a piece of apple down your windpipe, garnering no help from the woman beside you.

“Blimey, let one of the ONLY reasons you’ll be winning any and all major tournaments this year die, real dull mate.”

Alex growls.

“I’m not, ‘dull mate.’” She says, doing her best to mock you and your accent.

Your eyes widen.

“Oh my god, that was rank awful. That actually hurt to hear. My nan is rolling over in her grave right now.”

Alex blows a raspberry at you.

“Real mature love, real mature.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother?” She growls.

“I’m busy bothering you right now.”

Alex snarls, jumping to her feet and storming off.

“See you later teammate!” You yell, waving over exaggeratedly at her as she marches off.

***

Where your feelings for Alex, at least off the field, were based more off of annoying her until the point of insanity, your feelings for her on the field was a competitive hate, something Alex mirrored, but her hate for you off field?

Well, it was complete unbridled hate.

“Seriously, if you’re going to play like that, then stay off the field, England needs you more than we do.” Alex shakes her head and you smirk.

“You over shot it! Not me!” You shake your head in disbelief.

Alex lets out a mock laugh.

“Maybe you should’ve actually ran faster.”

You throw your head back with a groan.

“If I was in your position, we would’ve scored.”

Alex stomps her foot, the look in her eyes something you’d seen before, but never to this extent.

“You’re not made for the USWNT and you’re NOT made for soccer at a national level, you sucked in college, and you still fucking suck now.”

The field goes silent, everyone turning to look at Alex, their eyes wide.

Meanwhile, Alex’s blue orbs are locked on your face, a face that holds literally no hints of the cockiness it TYPICALLY holds, instead, it holds what she reads, as a hint of sadness.

You clear your throat, your mouth opening and closing a few times before you nod.

“Th-Thanks.”

Alex reaches out to you as you turn your back on her, the woman frowning as you make your way towards the bench, grabbing your things hastily before you head towards the bus.

Alex’s head hangs in shame, the looks of her teammates burning holes in her back.

“Alex-” Megan starts, only to be cut off by the forward moments later.

“I KNOW! OKAY!?” She yells, sending the rest of the USNWT a look.

Her shoulders hunch.

“I know.”

***

The second she steps on the bus you turn away, unwilling to look at the woman as she walks past, though, unfortunately for you, she doesn’t walk past, she instead sits right beside you.

“Are you lost?” You ask, voice rough.

Alex shakes her head.

“No, I’m not.”

You move to your feet.

“Well, if you’re not lost, then I’ll get lost.” You say, frowning when Alex doesn’t move so you can get out of your seat.

“Move Morgan.” You growl angrily.

She shakes her head.

“No can do, Y/L/N.” She shrugs and you growl, about to climb over the seat, but the look on Alex’s face stops you, causing you to flop back down into your seat in annoyance.

“Why are you holding me against my will Morgan?” You huff.

She sighs, rolling her eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry, I took it too far.”

Your eyes narrow, brows furrowing as you lean back, away from the woman.

“There’s no WAY that you’re Alex Morgan, she never apologizes, especially not to ME.” You bark out a laugh and she shakes her head.

“As much as it PAINS me to do so, I shouldn’t have said what I said on field, you do deserve to be on the team, and you don’t suck... That much.” She shrugs, and you can’t help but smile.

You begin chuckling, the woman looking at you in confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

“Yeah, you still suck.”

Alex growls.

“Fuck you Y/N.”

You grin.

“Right back at you love, right back at you.”

***

The lineup for the first match against Portugal was rather surprising, you weren’t expecting to start, not when players like Megan Rapinoe, Tobin Heath and Christen Press were on the team, but you were named to the starting lineup.

You wouldn’t show your surprise to the team, but you’d been sure to ask Vlatko multiple times if the lineup was correct, and he of course, told you repeatedly it was.

You did your best to not look nervous when standing in the tunnel, a number of Portugal’s players were glancing your way worriedly, everyone knew who you were, and everyone knew what you could do.

The crowd cheered as the USWNT and Portugal made their way onto the field, everyone excited to see the new editions to the USWNT and what they had to offer.

You completely blank out the National Anthem, standing stock still your eyes darting around the sold-out crowd.

It isn’t until you’re taking your place on field that you snap back out of it, your eyes unconsciously darting to the woman with a big 13 on her back.

You smirk.

“Show time.”

***

You can feel it, the moment you’re about to make your first goal with the USWNT, your entire body shaking with excitement.

Alex can’t help but smile when you expertly slip the ball passed the Portugal player who’s on you and fire it in on goal, the ball with a bit of a spin on it.

You still, the ball looking like an overshot, but thanks to the spin on it, gravity pulls it downwards, passed the goalkeeper’s fingertips and into the back of the net.

You throw a fist in the air with a massive grin, a grin Alex mirrors when she walks over to you, patting your back, her reaction tame considering Tobin was currently hanging off your back, along with Kelley and Emily.

Alex shrugs.

“Lucky shot.”

You snort.

“Luck had nothing to do with it.”

Alex snorts even louder.

“I mean, I DID assist.”

You roll your eyes.

“Didn’t need your assistance.” You smirk, the forward’s eyes narrowing as she sends you a glare, receiving only a wink in return.

Alex growls.

“Still so infuriating.”

***

By the end of the first half the score is 2-0, and by the end of the game, it’s 4-0, one of those goals being yours, and another belonging to Alex Morgan.

It’s when you’re heading to the bus that you turn to Alex with a smirk.

“Had to copy me, huh Morgan?”

Alex scoffs.

“Copy? You got a goal before me, big deal.”

Tobin shakes her head as she takes a seat beside Christen on the bus.

“Do they argue about everything?” She asks and Christen giggles, watching as you and Alex bicker, though instead of sitting far away from one another, Alex sits right behind you.

“I mean, I guess that’s how they say they’re into each other.”

An incredibly loud laugh makes Christen jump, the woman turning to her bus buddy who is looking at her in shock.

“They literally want each other dead.”

Christen rolls her eyes.

“No, they don’t, they like each other.”

Ali turns around in her seat towards Christen and Tobin.

“I mean, it’s obvious.”

Ashlyn scoffs.

“Obvious that Y/N would poison Alex’s food if she could.”

Kelley, who comes in from out of nowhere snorts.

“Yeah, I mean, they’ve hated each other since college, Jan talks about it all the time.”

Christen and Ali share a glance, the two shaking their heads.

“They’re totally into each other.”

“Oh, I know.”

***

“Wait, there HAS to be a mistake...” You say as Vlatko turns to you, Alex’s eyes wide and filled with absolute horror.

“No, the two of you are rooming together. It seems.” He shrugs, knowing full well that it was he who decided the two of you would room together, and it wouldn’t be a onetime deal either.

The two of you glance at one another, eyes narrowed.

“I get the shower first.” Alex mumbles and you smirk, swiping the key from Vlatko before sprinting to the elevators.

“The FUCK you do!” You yell, Alex sprinting after you.

“Y/N YOU GET BACK HERE!”

Everyone watches as Alex chases after you, their eyes wide.

Tobin turns towards Christen.

“You call THAT being into each other?”

Christen turns towards Ali, the two yet again, shaking their heads.

“Oblivious.”

***

“DON’T USE ALL THE HOT WATER!” Alex yells, smacking the bathroom door and you growl.

The door swings open moments later and you walk out, wearing nothing but a sports bra and a pair of boxers.

“Morgan, we’re in a hotel, that’s impossible.”

Alex watches as you head to your suitcase, riffling through its contents.

She can’t help but stare, the wide expanse of flesh and muscle usually hidden beneath your uniform now on display for her to see.

You turn around, holding a wad of clothes, your brows furrowed.

Alex jumps when you reach out, poking her in the forehead with your index finger.

“Hey!” She growls, slapping at your hand.

“I just wanted to see if you were still alive.”

Alex’s eyes rake down your front, stopping on your very prominent abdominal muscles.

You turn away and step in the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind you.

Alex stands there for a moment before she glances around.

“Yeah.”

***

Alex had TRIED to tell herself that she was in NO way ogling you like a horny frat boy, but when you walked out wearing basically the same thing to sleep in, she knew she was, for a fact, ogling you like a horny frat boy.

She’d made a quick retreat to the bathroom moments after, but she couldn’t avoid you forever.

You meanwhile were completely sprawled out in bed, Nintendo Switch in hand. You briefly wondered if Alex had drowned, but when the bathroom door swung open you sighed.

“I thought you might’ve drowned, I was going to see if you wanted to smash.”

Alex stops mid-stride, dropping her clothes on the floor.

“WHAT!?”

Your brows furrow as you hold your Nintendo Switch up.

“Smash...?”

Alex clears her throat, her cheeks blood red.

“O-O-Oh...”

You snort.

“Christ Morgan.” You shake your head and she rolls her eyes, stomping to her bed.

“What?”

You shrug.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, at least now I know you want in my trousers.” You smirk and she snarls, a pillow flying from her bed and smacking you right in the face.

“Fuck you.”

“SEE!” You grin, throwing the pillow back on her bed.

“I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”

You shake your head.

“Get over here and we’ll smash.” You hold a controller out to her and her eyes narrow.

“Sure, you’re okay with losing?” She asks cockily and you grin.

“Are you?”

Alex scoffs.

“I’d never lose to you.”

“We’ll see about that.”

***

“Why do you look so tired?” Kelley asks Alex the following day and the forward yawns.

“Y/N and I were Smashing.”

Kelley’s brown orbs widen, as do Alex’s the forward punching her friend in the arm.

“Super Smash Brothers you bitch.”

Kelley hums.

“I mean I could see you and Y/N hate fucking each other.” She shrugs and Alex’s cheeks flush bright red.

Alex punches Kelley in the shoulder, the defender groaning.

“Jesus Christ, Jan. You didn’t have to hit me so hard.”

Alex turns her attention towards her breakfast and away from the pouting defender beside her.

Though you were absolutely irritating and Alex thought about killing you a total of 48 times last night, she enjoyed spending time with you.

You yawn as you make your way towards the table, sitting across from Alex.

“You have to get used to losing if we keep smashing every night.”

Suddenly a plate falls to the table, hard, the sound making everyone jump.

Tobin is standing beside you, her eyes wide, Ashlyn meanwhile is smirking as she sits down beside you.

“Who’s smashing?” Megan asks and you roll your eyes.

“Smash Bros.” You shake your head and Megan rolls her eyes exaggeratedly.

“Boring, there’s only one Smash that’s actually interesting.”

Tobin gasps dramatically, her hand on her heart.

“I beg to DIFFER.”

You shake your head, watching with amusement as the two bicker, leading to Ashlyn chiming in.

You glance at Alex.

“You just HAD to tell everyone we Smashed.”

Alex rolls her eyes.

“Of course, I did, because I won.”

You bark out a laugh, shaking your head as you sip your orange juice.

“Like one time, Morgan.”

Alex growls.

“WELL, WE’LL SMASH AGAIN TONIGHT!” She yells, every single one of her teammates turning her way.

Alex clears her throat, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Are we talking about the SAME Smashing?” You smirk and Alex sends you a glare.

“SHUT UP.”

***

Alex rubs her temples angrily.

Playing in the rain had always been a hassle, but playing in the rain against SWEDEN was a nightmare.

Sweden was the USWNT’s rival and the fact that the USWNT were currently down by 2 of COURSE, didn’t sit well with Alex Morgan.

The whistle blows, signaling the end of the first half and Alex sighs in relief, she needed a break, not only for her tired legs, but to quell the irritation inside of her.

Someone bumps into her and she snarls.

“Watch where the FUCK you’re going.” She turns towards, who she now realizes is you, you who looks as equally pissed as she does.

“Listen Morgan, I’m seriously not in the fucking mood, I’m just as mad as you are, so don’t start your shit with me.” You snap, your USWNT teammates stopping to stare at the two of you with wide eyes.

“Fuck you.” She snarls turning to walk away and you sneer.

“Yeah? We’ll fuck you too!” You yell before you follow after her and into the locker room.

“Why are you following me!?” She yells and you scoff.

“WE SHARE A LOCKER ROOM.” You deadpan, flopping down on the nearby bench.

“Well, you can still sit away from me.” Alex gripes and you shake your head.

“I’m not moving Morgan.”

Alex, being purposely annoying sits down behind you, rather closely in fact.

“Well, I’m not either.” She mumbles and you snort.

“Mature Morgan, REALLLL mature.”

***

By the time the game ended the USWNT had a comeback, winning the game 3-2, much to Alex’s elation, as well as your own.

That elation didn’t erase the fact that the two of you had argued during the match, the two of you cold, wet and incredibly angry.

Alex is pulled out of her trance when the bathroom’s door in your and her hotel room swings open, a rush of steam flowing out as you leave the room.

Alex glances away from you, not only because you’re, yet again, barely dressed, but also because she’s ashamed of her behavior earlier that day.

You flop onto your bed without even looking at her, choosing to fall face down against its plush surface.

You remain silent, the air within the room incredibly heavy.

The silence is broken by Alex’s soft whisper.

“I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you.”

You remain silent as you roll over, your hand slipping into your suitcase.

You search blindly until you find what you’re looking for, holding the Nintendo Switch out to Alex.

“Smash?” You ask and Alex smiles.

“Smash.”

Alex flops on the bed beside you, taking the controller she’d used a few nights prior.

You glance at her out of the corner of your eye.

“I’m sorry too.”

Alex’s brows arch, the woman unable to bite back a smile, something that makes you send her a glare.

“Enough of this shite, ready to lose Morgan?”

Alex scoffs.

“I should be asking you that.”

***

You grimace as the body beside you shifts, a pair of arms wrapping tightly around you from behind.

“I’m not the little spoon.” You growl, attempting to wiggle free from the hold you’re in.

“Get over it.”

Your eyes flash open, as do Alex’s the two of you abruptly sitting up when you realize you’d in fact fallen asleep together the night before.

You turn to face her, the two of you looking at one another in absolute horror.

“I was just-

Alex leaps out of bed, the woman making a beeline towards the bathroom the two of you share.

You nod, your cheeks flushed.

“Ye-Yeah.”

You clear your throat, turning away from the bathroom to instead look at the alarm clock beside you.

3:13 AM

You grumble, annoyed at the fact that you’d woken up so early.

If you were honest with yourself, you were also annoyed that Alex wasn’t currently beside you, but you weren’t really in the mood for honesty at the moment.

You flop backwards, rolling towards the center of the bed where it just so happens Alex had been laying moments later, the smell of the woman’s perfume left behind on the sheets.

You attempt to resist temptation, but find yourself failing when you bury your nose into the sweet-smelling fabric, the smell clouding your senses.

The bathroom door creaks open sometime after, the sweet-smelling fabric lulling you to the cusp of sleep, as you fight your eyelids you watch as Alex tiptoes to her bed, the woman glancing over her shoulder at your ‘sleeping’ form with a smile before she makes her way to her own bed.

She falls down onto the cold sheets with a frown, thoughts of what the following day would bring running through her head.

***

Much to everyone’s surprise at practice the following day, neither you nor Alex had been at one another’s throats, in fact, you’d been ignoring each other as if the other had contracted the Black Death.

Even when you slip a ball passed Alex and into goal, you don’t gloat, instead choosing to just jog away as if you hadn’t scored.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Kelley asks, her eyes narrowed as she stares inquisitively at Alex.

“What?” Alex asks dumbly.

Kelley scoffs.

“THAT, Y/N didn’t even gloat! She didn’t rub in your face that she scored passed you!” Kelley points at you and Alex shrugs.

“Beats me.”

Kelley’s eyes narrow even further as Alex walks away, the defender’s eyes burning holes in her back.

“I WILL FIND OUT WHAT’S GOING ON JAN!” She yells across field, drawing the attention of each and every one of her teammates, including you.

You clear your throat, your cheeks flushing when you realize Alex’s blue orbs are on you.

The two of you abruptly turn away from one another, thoughts of the events that transpired that morning running through your heads.

You clear your throat as you rub the back of your neck, your cheeks flushing further when you think about Alex’s arms around you, and how much you’d liked it.

***

That night was even worse considering the two of you were still rooming together.

Alex refused to look in your direction and you refused to look in hers, making the situation even more awkward.

“Look.” Alex started, causing you to turn her way, when your eyes locked, she fell silent.

“This was easier when you weren’t looking at me.”

Your eyes widen momentarily before you turn away.

“Alright Morgan, go ahead.”

Alex huffs.

“I’m sorry about last night, I didn’t mean to, ummm...”

You chance a glance her way, smirking when you see how flushed her cheeks are.

“What?” Alex asks when she sees the smirk on your face and you shrug.

“Nothing.”

You fish your Nintendo Switch out of your bag and nod towards your bed.

“Let’s go Morgan, or are you too shy to Smash now?” You ask, a brow arched and Alex scoffs.

“Not a chance.”

***

It’s an hour into playing that it happens, though neither you, or Alex realized it was happening until your shoulders brush.

You both stiffen, your eyes widening, though neither of you dare look at the other.

Something else neither of you do though is scoot away from one another, your shoulders still brushing.

You clear your throat, your body untensing as you settle back against the pillow behind you, the feel of Alex’s blue orbs boring into you making goosebumps sprout on your flesh.

“Come on Morgan, head in the game.”

You miss the tiny smile that adorns Alex’s face as she focuses on the screen before you, though what you don’t miss is the brush of her leg against yours.

The inevitable of course happens when you feel Alex’s head rest on your shoulder, the woman fighting her fluttering eyelids.

You glance at the nearly unconscious woman on your shoulder and snort.

“Lay down Morgan.” You smile, the forward grumbling.

“But I don’t want to get up...”

You roll your eyes, taking her controller and laying your Switch on the table between your beds.

You wiggle until your head hits the pillow behind you, which results in Alex’s head falling onto your chest, the forward’s eyes widening.

You remain silent, waiting for her to make the next move, when she cuddles into your side, your cheeks flush, that flush spreading to the tips of your ears.

“Is this, okay?” Alex asks in a hushed whisper and you smile.

“It is.”

***

The two of you sharing a bed becomes a regular thing, so much so that Alex’s bed remains untouched 95% of the time, usually housing your luggage instead of Alex like it should be.

The rivalry you had on the field soon disappeared, something that came as a shock to literally everyone, even Vlatko.

You knew what you felt for Alex wasn’t friendship, it went well beyond that, your hatred for her turned into something you never ever expect, and that was love.

You loved Alex Morgan and there was no going back.

***

You were pissed, absolutely pissed, and how could you not be when no fouls were being called against Canada?

Fouls that were currently being directed at #13, Alex Morgan.

You snarl when yet again, Alex is taken down in the box, but YET AGAIN, the foul isn’t called.

“COME ON!” You yell, stomping towards the downed forward whose hand you take before you pull her to her feet.

“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly as you scan the forward who nods.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She smiles and you nod.

“She better call the fouls or I swear-

The whistle blows and you growl.

“Nothing but a right bitch that one.” You mumble before jogging away, missing the snort that Alex lets out, the forward shaking her head.

Her cheeks flush from more than exertion when she realizes your anger that’s directed at the ref is because the fouls have been directed solely on her, considering she was the only one being fouled.

And that was about to happen yet again, but this time, Alex wasn’t going to get up.

***

The look on your face was one of pure horror when Alex went down with a cry, the Canadian player’s cleats digging into her skin, soaking her socked ankle with blood.

The whistle blows loudly, the ref finally carding the player who’d fouled Alex with a red card, but that wasn’t good enough for you, not when Alex was currently bleeding.

Alex watches from her place on the ground as you advance on the player in red, landing a right hook that would make any boxer jealous, the woman falling to the ground with a thud.

Time literally stands still, your knuckles throbbing in pain as the player cups her cheek, her eyes wide as she stares up at you in shock.

“OFF THE FIELD! NOW!” The ref yells, the woman producing a red card immediately and holding it high above her head.

“Bugger off, wanker.” You mumble as you make your way towards Alex, who’s currently surrounded by the medical team.

“What the hell did you do that for!?” She growls at you and you frown.

“I-

You glance around, watching as the Canadian player, you were so angry you didn’t know her name, is aided off field, the woman still clasping her cheek.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, the taste of bile on the back of your tongue.

Deep down, you knew why your reaction had been so visceral, but you couldn’t tell Alex that could you?

So instead, you decided to do the only thing you could do, and that was turn on your heels and sprint towards the nearest exit.

***

Alex frowns as you sprint towards the exit, leaving her and the team behind.

The medical team hoists her to her feet, the woman limping off field, the fans clapping in respect for the USWNT player as the final whistle blows.

The second Alex gets off field though she pulls away from the medical team, choosing instead to limp after you, the forward hoping she wasn’t too late and was able to catch you.

Alex limped down the tunnel and rushed towards the nearest exit, hoping it was the exit you’d went through in your haste to put distance between the two of you.

She rounds the corner, a sigh of relief leaving her when she sees you marching down the sidewalk, away from her.

“Y/N!” She yells, causing you to stop in your tracks.

The dark clouds overhead that had been teasing rain all day had finally opened the proverbial floodgates, the soft sprinkles becoming somewhat of a downpour in literal moments.

Slowly, you turn around to face the forward who’s advancing on you, the woman limping as quickly as she can, closing the distance between the two of you.

You swallow hard, unable to look the woman in the eye as she tries catching your gaze,

“Y/N?! What was that!?” She yells, pointing back at the field and you shake your head.

“What was that!?” She yells again and you swallow hard.

“She was on your ass the entire game Al, and no one was calling the fouls! I had to do something!” You yell over the heavily pouring rain, the nickname slipping unknowingly off your tongue.

“That’s not your job, Y/N.” She frowns and you scoff.

“So, I’m just supposed to watch her hurt you? Watch her make you bleed!?” You cry, the feel of frustrated tears welling up in your eyes.

“Why does it matter so much to you!?” She asks, and you shake your head.

“Because I love you!”

Alex stiffens, as do you, your eyes widening in horror when you realize what you’d just said.

Your mouth opens and closes, the taste of bile on the back of your tongue as you take a step back from the injured USWNT forward.

Alex reaches out for you, her fingertips brushing the back of your hand.

“Y/N...” She whispers, taking a step towards you.

You’re about to take a step back when she grabs your wrist, effectively holding you in place, you weren’t about to jerk away, fearful that you may hurt her.

You swallow hard when she steps even closer, the distance between you closing as her chest brushes your own.

“Say it again.”

You shake your head as you turn away, though when Alex’s fingers intertwine with yours, you turn back towards her, the woman’s blue orbs focused on your hand in hers.

“Say it again...”

You shake your head, a lump forming in your throat.

“Alex-

“Please Y/N.” She whispers as she tucks a strand of hair, that had been stuck to your face, behind your ear.

You blink rapidly, Alex’s fingers tracing your jawline before she cups your cheek.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you find your voice.

“I-I...” You stammer, your eyes shutting as you swallow.

“I love you, Alex, and I think I always have I just-

You stiffen, your eyes wide and hands hovering in the air as Alex’s lips meet yours in a tentative, first kiss.

Just as your eyes flutter shut the team rounds the corner, their eyes widening before they turn Christen and Ali, the two smirking as they bump their shoulders together.

“We told you.”

Meanwhile your hands find purchase on Alex’s waist, the woman pulling back only to lean right back in, the brush of her lips sending a jolt throughout your entire body.

A crack of lightning makes the two of you jump, though neither of you pull back, your lips brushing as the two of you smile, toothy grins on full display.

Alex’s forehead rests against yours, her hair stuck to her face thanks to the water entirely soaking the two of you.

The reasonable members of the team usher the chaotics back into the arena, leaving you and Alex alone, the two of you so wrapped up in one another you hadn’t noticed them anyway.

Your tongue swipes at your lips, your Y/E/C orbs focused intently on Alex’s.

“When did you know?” Alex asks, her voice pulling you out of your trance, your cheeks flushing.

“Know what?” You ask dumbly, earning a look that says Alex knows you’re just playing dumb.

You sigh.

“The first time you yelled at me during a match in college.”

Alex’s brows arch.

“It was cute.”

Alex scoffs.

“It wasn’t meant to be cute.”

You shrug.

“Well, it was to me, and I was right smitten.”

Alex’s lips split into a massive grin, the woman leaning in to bump her nose playfully against yours.

“Your nose crinkles up when you’re angry.” She giggles and you bite your bottom lip, your cheeks dusted pink.

Alex tilts her head back, kissing the tip of your nose, your lips splitting into a grin.

“I guess we better get back in there...” Alex sighs and you huff.

“I guess so.”

Alex reluctantly takes a step back before she turns around, the two of you walking back to the door that led back into the arena.

Before Alex can make her way through the tunnel, you grab her wrist, giving her a gentle tug until she’s back in your arms again, your nose brushing hers.

“I never ACTUALLY hated you.” You whisper softly, giving her wrist a squeeze.

Alex smiles, the forward closing the distance between you with a feather light kiss, her lips feeling as if they barely brush your own.

“And I never ACTUALLY hated you either.”

You cup Alex’s cheek, the woman’s blue orbs disappearing behind her fluttering eyelids as she leans into your touch.

It’s in that moment when you spot them out of the corner of your eye, a snort sounding in the back of your throat as you watch your teammates scramble to make themselves scarce.

Alex follows your gaze, the woman rolling her eyes in annoyance when she spots your nosy teammates.

“Idiots.”

You wrap your arms around her from behind, pulling the woman close, your chin resting on her shoulder.

“So, you yell at them, and I watch? I bet it’s even cuter when you’re yelling at someone else.” You grin, grunting when Alex elbows you in the stomach.

“It’s not cute when I’m angry.” She pouts and you grin, shrugging.

“Actually, it’s adorable.”

Alex growls, a furrow forming between her brows as she tries, and fails to scowl at you.

“Still so infuriating.” She grumbles, the woman about to turn away, but before she can you catch her lips, unable to bite back a smile as the two of you kiss.

“I’m so infuriating, but you still smitten, aren’t you love?” You ask and she rolls her eyes, her cheeks flushed red.

She gives your shoulder a playful slap and you snicker.

Looking into the pools of blue that are Alex Morgan’s eyes, you knew coming to the US was the best decision you’d ever made.

You lean in, tilting your head back to press a kiss to her forehead.

“What do you say we go kill our nosy teammates now?” You ask with a grin and Alex takes your hand, intertwining your fingers.

“Lead the way.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine

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runawaymun · 3 years

Note

Might I request Elrond x Platonic reader h/c and fluff fic, where reader comes home after a hunting trip etc. with a minor injury like a bump in the head or something and Elrond gets very fussy about it. Extra points for parent/child relationship cause I have problems.

Dad!Elrond x Platonic!Reader ~ Iris

Genre: hurt/comfort/fluff Warnings: mild blood and injury cw (reader has a broken nose). For: @tuuliii Reader pronouns: she/they

Sindarin Translations: Ada - informal: dad/papa Tithen pen - little one

You’d spent most of the day out hiking in the surrounding woods gathering wild herbs and other plants for your own experiments. Usually you’re pretty sure-footed, but there had been a hard rain the night before and you completely misjudged how slippery a certain slope would be. The rain had loosened the soil and clay and you’d slipped, rolled down it, and managed to crack your nose-- which, in your opinion, was marginally better than spraining something. At least you’re capable of getting yourself back home.

Lindir walks past just as you cross the bridge back into Imladris and, as he turns to look at you, his eyes widen to saucer-proportions. You’re painfully aware that you look awful-- covered in mud from head to toe, hair askew, scrapes along your arms and and knees from where you’d broken your fall. And, of course, your nose was starting to swell. You’d managed to stop the bleeding on the way here but it had to be bruising by now.

“It isn’t as bad as it looks,” you insist. “I’m going straight to the healers. Don’t you dare tell Ada.”

Lindir swallows and you brush by him up the road and into the house. It takes some maneuvering (the last thing you want is to run into Elrond on the way in), and you garner more than a few concerned looks. When you reach the healing halls, you head for one of the unoccupied surgeries and find Mírion inside, mixing up some tinctures and poultices. You set your travel bag unceremoniously on one of the chairs and hop up onto the bed.

He turns to look at you, first taking in your disheveled state and then trailing to the floor, where you’ve tracked mud all the way in.

“What happened to you?”

“Don’t ask. It’s too humiliating. Can you just patch me up before Ada sees? He’ll throw a fit.”

“Lia will throw a fit about the floor,” he scolds.

“Tell her I’ll mop it.”

He lets out a long-suffering sigh and gathers up a few items: bandages and plasters, a bowl of hot, clean water, and some honey and strong spirits and brings them over to the table by the bed.

Just as he starts examining your nose, Elrond bursts in.

“What happened?” he exclaims, rushing to your side. Mírion backs up to give him space as he takes your face in his hands, turning it this way and that, gray eyes filling with worry.

Lindir is right behind him, hovering nervously in the doorway. You shoot him a betrayed look which he returns with a helpless (and rather apologetic) shrug of his own.

Elrond prods the bridge of your nose with his thumb and you hiss in a breath at the sharp burst of pain. “Ai! Ada!” you try and brush him off but he won’t be moved. “I just had a nosebleed, that’s all.”

“It’s broken,” he scolds. “What were you doing?”

“I lost a fight with a riverbank,” you say dryly. “Slipped and fell. I’m fine.” Your nose, the treacherous thing, picks that exact moment to start bleeding again. You roll your eyes as his mouth sets into a thin line. He produces a handkerchief and presses it to the bridge of your nose.

“Lean forward,” he commands, utterly unamused. You obey and replace his hand with your own, pinching to stem the bleeding and wincing at how that just makes everything hurt more.

Mírion slips out with Lindir and Elrond washes his hands and returns back to the bed to examine all the little bumps and scrapes, making little disapproving noises in the back of his throat. Once the bleeding has stopped he takes the handkerchief, sets it aside, and takes your face to glower at your eyes, then holds up a finger for you to follow. You do, glaring at it as he drags it left, and then right. Satisfied, he asks:

“Your ears are not ringing?”

“No, Ada.”

“And you aren’t dizzy?”

“No, Ada.”

“You did not lose consciousness when you hit your head?”

“No.”

He sits on the edge of the bed to take cool, wet cloth and make you press it to your nose to help with the swelling, and then sets to work cleaning the mud out of all the little scrapes. “If your sight blurs or you begin to feel nauseous or have trouble sleeping, tell me.”

“It’s a nosebleed,” you complain. Your voice sounds nasally even to your own ears.

“It could have been a concussion,” he clucks, “Or a septal hematoma and neither of those ought to be taken lightly. You are fortunate it’s not necessary for me to reset anything. You are not to go out on your own for the next week.”

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” you mumble.

“Which is why I am glad Lindir did,” he replies back, because with that superior hearing and experience raising two very mischievous twins, you have never ever been able to get anything past him. “And Mírion would have anyway. Sleep with an extra pillow to keep your head above your heart until the swelling reduces.”

You pout while he plasters up the scrapes, applying the alcohol as disinfectant and the honey and plasters where needed. If you’re honest, though, the attention is kind of nice, though you would never admit it out loud.

“What were you doing climbing down a muddy riverbank in the first place?” he asks at last. “You know better.”

You have the decency to blush and you reach for your travel pack and pull out a now rather smashed up bouquet of purple crested irises. You’d seen them growing at the base of the bank and, to your credit, had actually gotten ahold of them before picking your way back out.

“I know how much you like them,” you say, but you’re far too embarrassed to look at him.

He’s quiet for a bit too long, and when you glance up at him at last he looks completely torn between laughing, scolding you profusely, and crying. He takes them from you and kisses your forehead.

“You are so dear to me,” he murmurs. “Thank you, tithen pen. I love them.” He can’t keep from adding: “But you must be more careful.”

“I promise not to go climbing down any riverbanks after it’s rained,” you say.

“Good, but don’t think that will get you out of house arrest. You still are stuck here until I am certain you have not given yourself a concussion.”

You sigh. He presses his hand to your head and hums a tune in the back of his throat, and you feel the pain in the bridge of your nose ease. He brushes your hair back from your face with another affectionate kiss to your still-muddy forehead and says: “I will bring you some new shoes before you get up so you avoid tracking more mud everywhere. Be sure to apologize to Lia and Lindir for the mess.”

“Yes, Ada.”

He stands from the edge of the bed and takes the wilted irises over to the the poultice-mixing station to find a glass to stand them in, and the next time you go into his office, you find that he has dried them and put them in a vase as a permanent fixture on his writing desk.

#elrond x reader #elrond #lotr #lotr imagine #elrond imagine #gif cw #(gif not mine)#And Rohan Will Answer! (Requests)#this was so nice to write #thank you for the excellent request!#i hope it hits the spot <3 #also the because I have problems made me laugh because that's SUCH a mood #me? keeping background OCs consistent between my fics and other imagines? never

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dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Charity Case

Bucky Barnes x Reader, College AU, enemies to lovers

Summary: You loathe Bucky Barnes and his cocky attitude but you find yourself doing him a favor. Is he really as insufferable as he seems?

W/C: 3,830

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, uhhh kissing, that's it!

A/N: Here it is! My entry for @sweeterthanthis Quote Me On It 6k challenge!! My quote was "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?" (in bold). I love the Heathers so I'm excited!! Hopefully I did this prompt justice. As always, if you liked it please reblog/comment! Cheers! I do not consent to my work being reposted/translated on any platform.

Main Masterlist

____

Steve was running late again. You try not to chew your nails off in frustration but he’s definitely testing you. This is the third time in the last two weeks that he’s late to meet you. When he hasn’t been late he’s cancelled all together. Always with a half-ass apology of ‘Bucky needs me’. As if.

You’ve been friends with Steve since your freshman year creative writing class when the only open seat was next to him. Ever since that first day you two had been close. But not as close as him and Bucky. Childhood friends attending university together, thicker than thieves.

You always felt like Bucky was maybe a little jealous of the friendship you and Steve have. Maybe you’re a little jealous too but you’re almost positive Bucky is more jealous of you than you are of him but that’s beside the point. On top of his jealousy Bucky was just annoying. He had a girlfriend but he was always flirting with every girl he met, yourself included. Not to mention he was cocky as all hell.

Steve vouches for his character, swears that it’s all an act and he’s actually very sensitive underneath but you don’t buy it for a second. If you were his girlfriend you’d have dumped him a long time ago.

You don’t have time to dwell on your annoyance too much because Steve is rushing through the doors of the coffee shop. He looks around for you and when he finally finds you the look on his face is relieved. As he gets closer it’s clear that he’d been running to get to you in time. He’s sweaty and a little out of breath and if you weren’t so annoyed with him you’d have found it endearing that he ran here.

“There you are,” he huffs out, “I’m so sorry, I was with Bucky and I lost track of time.”

You purse your lips and hand him a napkin which he takes with a gracious nod before wiping the sweat from his brow. You hand him the iced coffee you’d ordered for him too. The ice is slightly melted from sitting there but he looks so refreshed to be drinking it.

“Figures” is all you say with a huff. If he hadn’t been doing it so often you would’ve been a little kinder about it but you were just irked.

“Seriously, I’m sorry. Nat just dumped him, he's been having a hard time” Steve explained.

“Is it because he flirts with anything that moves?” You scoff.

Steve scoffs in return “He does not! He’s just… outgoing. But no, they had their own problems.” You raise one eyebrow at him. “Okay the flirting had something to do with it but there’s a lot going on there.”

“Whatever, let’s just study for this exam while we can”.

____

You and Steve spent the next two hours cramming for your midterm together. Things were going well and you’d nearly forgotten that you were mad at Steve in the first place. Nearly.

You were so deep into your notecards that you didn’t hear the door open behind you. A voice that could grate on only your nerves. A voice that if it didn’t belong to such a bastard, might even be kinda sexy. The voice breaks your focus completely when it calls out.

“Hey, Steve, are you done already or what? Oh hey, what’s up, beautiful?”

You set your notecards down on the table maybe a little harder than you should. You shoot Steve a glare because you thought it would just be the two of you. Really? You cut in before Steve can answer his friend.

“No, Bucky, he’s not. Can we help you?”

He smirks, giving you his full attention. He knows he has you now, knows you took the bait and he’s goaded you to the point of backtalk. He pulls up a chair to the table and wedges himself tightly between you and Steve. The sound of the chair legs scraping the floor as he scoots closer to you rings in your ears and makes you cringe. You look at Steve again only to find him avoiding your gaze.

“Well, sweetheart, me and Stevie boy here have plans later. Gonna do some gaming and order a pizza, really embracing the bachelor lifestyle.” He raised his eyebrows at this and you just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I heard Nat dumped your ass, actually, is that true?” You asked with a fake sweetness.

“Why, you interested?” He rebuffed.

You bristled at his quick response and muttered your annoyance under your breath. You chose not to respond. Instead you decided to address Steve.

“Steve, I didn’t realize that you had plans”

“Oh… yeah, loose plans…” He answered distractedly while pretending to be reading a text on his phone.

You decide to call it a day. You were getting seriously fed up with Steve’s passive behavior in all of this. Thankfully you didn’t have much to pack up, so once you slung your backpack over your shoulder you looked up at the pair to bid them goodnight.

“Well, Steve, this was… enlightening. Bucky, eat it. Goodnight fellas, have fun with your ‘bachelor lifestyle’” You said with air quotes. Turning on your heel you left before either could respond.

____

You had left the coffee shop that evening pretty upset with Steve. Of course it’s fine for him to have other friends but lately it was like he only cared about Bucky and all of your plans took a backseat to theirs. You decided you weren’t going to be the one to text Steve first, since he was being a bad friend. He could be the one to initiate plans.

He did just that when he caught you in the hallway after your midterm a week later. He jogged up to you once again and tugged on your sleeve to get you to stop.

“Hey, how do you think you did? Bet those notecards paid off, right?” He half-joked. He looked sheepish. Nervous almost. You figured it was because of what happened last time you met.

“Yeah, Jesus Christ! I’ve never been so grateful for little pieces of paper.” You scoffed. You decided to keep it light between you. You were still upset with him but his tone leads you to believe he was gonna apologize.

“Right?” He laughs nervously, “So listen, I know I’ve been kind of a jerk lately… Maybe we could get something to eat at Nick’s?”

Nick’s was the local greasy spoon on campus and they had the best breakfast food you’d ever had. You eyed him suspiciously but accepted.

“Alright, but you’re buying. And there better not be any visitors!” You add as you bound down the hall ahead of him. He knows you mean Bucky and he’s not worried because Bucky won’t be showing up today. He’s more nervous about what he has to ask you.

____

You’re sipping on pop as you play with your straw wrapper. You look up at Steve and notice he’s fidgeting a lot more than usual.

“What’s up? Why are you so twitchy?” You question him.

“Me? I’m not twitchy! I was just thinking that’s all” He quickly defends himself.

“Well that was the last midterm of the semester for both of us, I think it’s safe to say you can relax.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Steve concedes quietly.

You and Steve eat in near silence, neither of you mind though because it’s comfortable. You worked on your hashbrowns when you looked up and noticed that Steve had barely touched his food. He was still fidgety, he looked nervous.

“Hey, you’ve hardly eaten anything, what’s the matter?”

He looks a little embarrassed, like he’s been caught. Or like he’s about to come clean about something.

“Look, I wanted to say sorry I know I haven’t been the best friend lately with everything going on with Bucky. He really is having a hard time since the breakup y’know… he’s lonely”

“Right” You laughed, “I’m sure he’s soo lonely.” You rolled your eyes and picked up your fork.

“No really, he just needed a friend to be there. I think he does need to get back out there though.”

“With how smooth he thinks he is, I'm sure he’ll have a date by the end of the night. I wouldn’t worry about it, Stevie.” You responded.

“I’m serious! As much of a player as he comes off he needs to be with someone he already knows. He’s actually really sensitive.” You interrupted with another laugh. There were many choice words you’d use to describe Bucky Barnes but ‘sensitive’ is not one of them.

“But anyway, I was...kinda hoping you’d do me a favor…” Steve trails off.

Based on the conversation you just had you’re cautious. You eye him warily but motion for him to continue.

“Well, like I said Buck’s having a hard time and he needs to get back out there but he doesn’t feel comfortable hooking up with a stranger. I was thinking maybe.. You guys should hang out?”

Steve refused to look at you as he finished the question. The look on your face was a look of confusion and shock.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?” you asked in disbelief. “I mean seriously, I’m nice but not that nice.”

“Look-”

“No!” You cut him off, “You know I can’t stand that prick. Also why would I want to put myself on the long list of women he’s probably tried to fuck? I don’t buy this whole ‘sensitive’ thing for a minute.”

“I’m serious, Nat kinda crushed his heart when she left. He acts cocky but it’s a front. I just think he needs to see someone to get it out of his system. You’ve got more in common than you think. Just hang out with him once. Don’t think of it like a date, just a really really big favor. Please?” Steve begged.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “You. Owe. Me. So. Much”

“Really?” He asked hopefully.

“Really. But I’m not gonna bang him. Hard no on that” you said.

“Yeah, yeah of course! No problem! I’ll give Bucky your number!” He reached across the table and grabbed your hand. His hands were kidna clammy but you let him.

“Seriously, thank you. I know you think he’s some jerk but I promise he’s a good guy.” Steve adds, “A-and don’t think of it as like a date, even, y'know? I think honestly he could just use another friend. Think of how good it could be if we could all hang together some time?”

You shook your head and chuckled at his optimism while you stabbed another bite of your meal.

____

‘What’s up, sweetface?’ Gross.

‘Okay, sorry. Hi, how are you?’ Better.

‘I’m alright, you?’

‘Good. Steve tells me you’re a huge trivia nerd. Wanna go to Sally’s tn?’

‘It’s a date’ Shit. Didn’t mean to say that. Fuck. Quick- say something that will deflect before he responds!

‘And since it’s a date you’re paying’ That’ll have to do.

‘Ugh fine. Here’s hoping you’re a cheap date at least. I’ll meet you there at 9’

____

What do you wear for a date with someone that you despise? It’s just bar trivia so it’s nothing special but somehow the jeans and flannel you’ve been wearing all day don’t feel like they make the cut. You rip your closet apart trying to find something before you settle on black skinny jeans and your favorite sweater with some boots. Casual but not too casual.

You spend the whole walk there dreading the night ahead of you. Knowing that you wouldn’t even have Steve as a buffer between you made the whole evening seem daunting. At least you had trivia to distract you. You decide to give Bucky the benefit of the doubt tonight for Steve’s sake. You try to remember Steve’s insistence that Bucky’s a good guy and you have a lot in common. We’ll see about that.

When you arrive at the bar you find Bucky already waiting for you at a high-top table with two PBRs and a shot of brown liquid. Please don’t let that be whiskey. He sees you coming and smiles that damn-his-good-looks smile at you while patting the open chair next to him. The closer you get you even see that he got the whiteboard already for trivia.

“Please tell me that’s not Jameson or Fireball” you greet him.

He laughs a little and shakes his head. “Better - it’s Jack. Sorry, doll, but I already opened the tab. This is what we’re drinking” He nudges one of the shots closer to you and motions for you to pick it up. “Come on, we gotta start the night off right, bottoms up!”

Before you can gag at the thought of drinking whiskey you grab the glass and face him. You both knock your shots on the table before clinking them together and swallowing them in one go. You grimace at the taste and feel the warmth flow all the way down your throat. You quickly take a sip of your beer to rid yourself of the taste.

“Aww, you’re cute when you’re grossed out.” Bucky coos at you.

You’re embarrassed and annoyed but it goes away quickly.

“Shut up, Barnes”

You give him a light shove and he pretends like he’s about to fall off his stool, making you laugh. For someone that’s only ever annoyed you he’s doing a pretty bang-up job of being likeable when it’s just the two of you.

“You ready for me to carry you through some trivia?” You joked.

“Hey, now! I know...stuff” he concluded.

“Mmhmmm, I’m sure you do. Don’t worry, I’ll answer the questions and you just sit there and look pretty” you reach over to pat his face lightly with a wink.

Bucky grumbles before taking another sip of his beer.

You settle in for a long night when the host announces the first round is starting.

____

You managed to steal the first round without breaking a sweat, second round was a little rocky until it came down to you and one other couple. You knew the third round would be tricky but the way Bucky was cheering you on you were determined. To no one’s surprise Bucky had been completely useless so far but to his credit he was trying. At least he was a supportive teammate.

Things were going well until the third round was announced: Old School Videogames. You didn’t know shit about old school videogames. Or regular videogames. The extent of your video game knowledge started and ended with Mario Kart.

When the third round was announced though Bucky hit the table in excitement and cheered.

“Woo! Fuck yeah!” He pats you on the shoulder, “I got this, don’t worry. I so fuckin’ got this!”

He was a few drinks deep but he was so confident and he was your only hope so you went with it. He looked like a little kid the way he was practically giddy.

“You had better! There’s some serious prize money riding on this round.” You said in warning.

“No, no. You don’t understand that I’ve GOT this. Your turn to look pretty, not that it’s gonna be all that hard for you, sweetface” Bucky grinned at you over his beer as he took another sip.

Your cheeks felt heated and you tried your best to hide it by taking another drink yourself. Bucky’s flirting has never worked until now. Must be the alcohol.

“Shut up, Barnes” you mumble.

“Y’keep saying that but what I really think you mean is ‘I love you, Bucky you’re so strong and handsome~’” He imitated in a high pitched feminine voice.

You shoved him for real and before you could say anything else the third round was starting.

____

Bucky wasn’t kidding when he said he had this. He had won the round in a clean sweep and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed. Who knew this man harbored so much videogame trivia? When the host handed you the prize money he just waggled his eyebrows as if to say See?

“I gotta hand it to you, Barnes, I had no idea you had that much videgame wisdom rolling around up there. The only videogame I ever play is Mariokart so I’d be toast without you.”

“Mariokart? That’s it?? No problem, doll. It was nice to contribute.” He chuckles at that.

You divvied the money up and handed him his half.

“Guess I’m not such a cheap date afterall, huh?”

He chuckled as he took his half from you.

“I’m gonna go pay the tab with our winnings, I’ll be back”

You picked up your phone while you waited for him to find some missed texts from Steve.

‘How’s it going?’ ‘Are you guys doing okay?’ ‘I haven’t heard anything so I’m assuming you haven’t killed each other. Have fun, text if you need a ride home.’

You almost rolled your eyes at Steve’s insistence but found yourself smiling instead. You’d text him back when you got home.

Bucky was walking up to you once more and you smiled at him slightly.

“You said you’re good at Mariokart?”

“I didn’t say I was good at Mariokart, I said that I played it. Why?”

“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could go back to mine and I could whoop your butt”

You weren’t going to say yes but now he was goading you and you took the bait without hesitation.

“Oh, you’re on, Barnes. You’re so, so on.”

His smile grew wider when he heard your response. With that he placed his hand on your lower back and ushered you out of the bar.

____

You played two tournament cups worth of Mariokart and Bucky had indeed whooped your butt. You don’t know why you were surprised, with how much gaming he and Steve do it’s no surprise he’s a natural. You still had fun though. Just when you were about to propose a third round Bucky got up and headed to the kitchen without a word.

He came back with two glasses of water and handed you one. He sat down on the floor next to you and you set down your controller.

“Here, drink up.”

You were taken aback a bit by the kind gesture but accepted the glass just the same.

“Thank you, I might regret saying this but, you’re not so bad when you’re not being insufferable, Barnes”. You told him

He smiled and shook his head as he drank his water.

“Thanks, I guess”

“How come you can’t be like this all the time? When it’s just the two of us you’re so kind and you’re even… I don’t know, funny maybe. Why do you get all cocky whenever else I see you?”

He looked down into his glass at your comment and you watched his brows crease in thought.

“I don’t know, it just sort of… happens, whenever I’m around other people I don’t know that well. I don’t mean to be a dick or anything but it’s like I can’t help myself. People expect me to be a certain way and I can’t help but fall into it sometimes. Nat hated that about me, it’s part of the reason why she dumped me, actually”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that. And I’m sorry about the breakup, too. I know you guys were together for a while.” Bucky only shrugged at this and downed the rest of his water.

“It is what it is. I’m ready to be over it, I’m getting there slowly but surely. I gotta say, you’re not so bad either when you’re not getting all defensive and in my face. You’re actually pretty funny”

Your turn to become flustered at a personal analysis.

“Thanks, I guess I don’t mean to be so defensive either, it's just my response to most other people. I feel myself slip into it and it can’t be helped.” You explained.

Bucky nods at you, not knowing entirely what to say in response.

“I like spending time with you” He says leaning closer to you.

You swallow thickly, not sure what to make of what you feel knowing his face is so close to yours.

“I… like spending time with you too. You’re not what I thought.”

“Me neither,” he shakes his head, “You’re something else.”

With that he leans his head closer to yours and you feel yourself close your eyes and move your lips to slant perfectly into his. You’re kissing Bucky Barnes. The Bucky Barnes you can’t stand. That Bucky Barnes. You’ve decided that his tongue feels too good in your mouth to care now.

His hands come to frame your face and bring you in closer. His hands are warm and calloused but they feel like comfort. You can’t help but to melt. You moan into his mouth and it seems to spur him on. He pulls you into his lap and you let out a noise of surprise that’s muffled by his mouth on yours.

Your hands come to caress his sides and you take your time feeling every muscle and ridge. Your hands idly make their way under the hem of his shirt and his skin is just as smooth as you’d expect. He sighs into your mouth and it takes all of your strength not to fall apart right there. You feel yourself getting lightheaded and have to pull away for air. When you do you rest your forehead against his and the only sound is both of your breathing.

You finally brave a look at him and he has the softest smile on his lips.

“Sorry, doll, didn’t mean to get so carried away but I’ve been waiting for a long time to do that.”

This catches you off guard.

“You have? Wait, did you like me? But you flirt with everyone!” You explain.

“With you, I flirt with you. You just can’t stand me” he laughs out, “Nat dumped me for a couple reasons but that’s one of them she told me I needed to get my priorities straight and I gotta say, I’m thankin’ her for sayin’ it ‘cause she was right.”

You don’t know what to say or what to make of any of this. All you know is that you want to kiss him again, so you do. You grab him by the collar and pull him into you again. He lets out a startled noise but kisses you back all the same.

You don’t care what you used to think of Bucky Barnes and you don’t care about what’ll happen after today. Right now all you care about is feeling him in sync with you for the first time. You could live in this moment forever but right now will have to do.

#quotemeonit6kchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #college AU #college!bucky x reader #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel one shot #bucky barnes imagine #enemies to lovers

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