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wintersera · 9 months

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forever mine || alpha!karina x omega!reader

notes: AGAIN sorry for the delay anon but here’s the request!! fun fact i wrote this while listening to the super mario galaxy ost 😭

cw: OMEGAVERSE, alpha karina, omega reader (obvs), maybe rina is a little possessive, use of toys, biting, scratching, g!p rina, creampie, breeding kink

wc 2.2k

your alpha girlfriend was so sweet and caring, the best alpha you could ever wish for. unlike other alphas, she was never too aggressive with you, rather, she was too careful with you- biologically she should’ve been treating you like you were her toy for breeding, but i guess not. nonetheless she was still a great alpha girlfriend.

—

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK

first of september- the first ever day since you’ve forgotten to buy your heat suppressants since you started dating jimin. your stomach drops as your pheromones begin to waft around your workplace filled with pure blooded alphas.

shit shit shit i’m dead, oh i’m screwed what do i do? ohhh god what do i do?

it was sorta stupid. yeah- an undercover omega in a job filled to the brim with hardworking alphas. you were doing a great job of convincing everyone that you were just a simple beta. that’s how you landed your job in the first place, but now because of this one stupid mistake, you were bound to lose your job.

“guys…” head manager, a very big alpha man in your words, spoke up. his head tilting and nostrils flaring as he’s looking around the office, confusion on his sharp features “…are you smelling that?” with the attention drawn on your floral scent, you begin to panic as the other alphas begin sniffing around too.

ough,, how do you get outta this situation fast “i think i’ll head out early guys. whoever has their heat is driving me insane it might trigger my rut” how bad of a lie was that. it didn’t matter anyways, dashing out the room with your blazer and bag in, hand rummaging around your trouser pockets as soon as you make it out of the building.

“jesus christ jimin pick up please, please” walking, no- sprinting to the direction of your apartment. you knew your heat was gonna hit you badly. you’ve been taking suppressants for years so having a full blown pheromone disaster for the first time in years was going to be crazy. people were looking at you like you were crazy, but you’d rather have many people look at you weird than have your scent imprinted on the damn streets.

“what’s up?” thank the lord, she answered her phone just in time.

fumbling for your keys trying to shove it into the door lock, you sigh with a heavy breath “uh,, um jimin i’m going into heat- i already feel funny” unlocking the door, you fling yourself into the apartment, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

“what do you mean going into heat? did you not,,, oh well shit okay give me a few minutes” hanging up the call.

not so much to your surprise, slick was coating your cunt like crazy. to the point where it started to go through your trousers and down your legs. the need you had for your girlfriend was so unbearable.

in a haze, you wobbled to your shared bedroom and grabbed one of her used shirts. her clothes smelt so good, the lingering scent dripping from her clothes was enough to make you keel over and plop onto the bed. you felt yourself getting slicker, your needy cunt needing your alpha to come over and fuck you silly was growing stronger each second she wasn’t in the room with you.

taking matters into your own hands because you couldn’t wait any longer, the feeling of your heat coiling in your stomach was too much. your brain was giving into your biological urges and you needed to get off now or you’d suffer. grabbing a pile of jimin's clothes and making somewhat of a nest on the bed, you surround yourself with the scent of freshly ground coffee. quickly taking off every single piece of clothing, getting right back up to open the box of toys you kept just in case a moment like this ever happened- searching for anything, any toy, that could satisfy you while you wait for your alpha.

whereas jimin on the other hand was worried sick. throughout your two year relationship with her she’d never seen you in a proper heat. like yeah, the heat suppressants and scent blockers helped quite a lot so you were never heavily affected by the symptoms. of course omegas would usually never get this horrible desire to mate this early into their heat, but unfortunately for you, you did have this raging urge to mate so early.

you weren’t so very conscious, you were starting to feel groggy, a feverish high temperature when you touch your head began to appear. this heat was kicking you in the ass and you couldn’t take it anymore- taking the vibrator in your hands and placing it on the highest setting, your hands make there way all the way down to your throbbing clit “a-ah, hnnng jimin come quick…”

so so desperate for her, you pick up your phone hoping that she would answer your calls “please- please pick up jimin”

“i’m almost home baby, do you need something or…”

“just hurry up i’m begging you to come home pleaseee” and who was she to deny your request. stepping on the gas faster knowing that her precious little omega was in need of her alphas presence. she could here your desperation deep within your voice.

“don’t worry i’m about to park soon, just wait for me okay” jimin, knowing how she acted during your very suppressed heats, believed that she could never submit to her instincts since she has never done so when it came to you. that quickly changed as she opened the door, the scent of roses attacking her as she stepped inside. it was a thick scent, it stuck to everywhere and it didn't help that you couldn’t open the windows in time, now your walls were coated in this thick floral scent.

it took jimin a lot of willpower not to give into her urges right there. she felt her rut kicking in and it made her growl in discomfort. never feeling this way in a while, because she took rut suppressants since the two of you started dating, she started growing hazy much like you did. she was a pure blooded alpha which didn’t help either, the intensity of your heat did rounds on her and she had strongest urge to mark you up.

you could hear her footsteps grow louder and louder, her low growls could be heard with the door still shut. quite impressive. she didn’t even say anything when entering, taking off her work clothes only leaving just her boxers on, the line of her hard cock showing through made you whimper out loud. your slick was practically drooling out from your pussy.

in her eyes you were nothing more than a snack to be devoured. her red eyes peered down at you like you were some sort of prey, and you must admit that pure blooded alpha jimin was really arousing to watch. pheromones in the room were strong as hell, your thick sweet floral scent mixing with jimin’s freshly scented coffee smell made a delicious combination. the scent alone driving you two mad.

she went to sit on the bed, still peering at you meek little body. with hunter like eyes she stared you down and licked her lips, “sit up omega” obeying your alpha like the good little omega you are, you sit up from the nest of clothes.

she could hear little puffs of air pour out of your lips, stifling a chuckle as she watches you struggle to sit up straight and look at her straight in the eye. hooking you up with ease, jimin had your body pressed up against hers, sliding one of her hands in between your thighs opening them up with a strong grip “you look so needy for me” a second goes by and she’s shoving you back into the pillow.

“fuck” jimin whispered “how do you smell so good” nuzzling into the crook of your neck, “you smell so tempting, fuck, i can’t-“ she gave your thighs a firm squeeze, exhaling shakily “you need to take me right now, i can’t take it anymore. i need to feel your tight cunt around my cock” her voice low and coarse. in a flash she slipped her cock into your dripping heat, mewls threatening to escape your mouth.

if you weren’t too dazed and horny you would’ve been saying how you’ve waited for this exact moment. jimin didn’t spend anytime fucking around with foreplay, she went straight into pounding your slicked up hole with no mercy. everything she did set your body ablaze, her hands were touching every single inch on your body and it felt so fucking good.

like a ravenous animal she attacked your neck, licking, marking, biting your throat all whilst groaning. her animalistic mind wanting to show that you’re her omega and nobody else’s and by that she had to litter you with marks of any kind, purposely rubbing her scent to mark you as her omega.

every thrust made your back arch slightly off the bed, hitting all the spots you never knew could feel good because of how nice she usually fucked you. you felt how fast and precise her movement was, and it was heavenly.

as your back arched closer to hers, she shifted even more closer to you, practically pinning you onto the bed by hooking both of your legs above her broad shoulders. hitting even deeper then she previously did before, you felt the tip of her cock graze your cervix “mmfh, fuck, fuck- my baby feels so fucking good” saying all that while she’s harshly sinking her teeth into your shoulders.

“s’too much,, ah- jimin, g-good” her urges began to flare up, the only thing on her mind was to mark you up for good. like she was oh so desperate to keep you as hers.

pulling her cock out, in between breaths she instructs you “turn around. y/n turn over for me.. need to- need to fill you up“ taking your legs of her shoulders and flipping you over with ease, again with her predatory gaze, she stares right at your exposed ass in which tempted her to completely destroy you until you can’t stand anymore, leaving you in a state of vulnerability so that she can take care of you.

her alpha instincts were indeed controlling her every movement, the loving and caring alpha you knew was gone. all was left was a dominating alpha who wanted to fuck you till you were filled up with her cum, even if that means you’ll bear her pups.

returning back into your needy cunt, she moans even louder, louder than you’d ever heard. “omega- omega fuck, i’ll mark you. you’re mine, mine only. mine,,, shit you’re mine forever” relentlessly pushing your head into the pillows, her thrusts became frantic and desperate- her movement erratic and messy, it made you love her even more. her alpha side was making you wetter and wetter, bedsheets were covered with your slick.

your moans were insanely unholy. you were screaming and clawing onto whatever you could grab hold onto. her dick growing larger than before and that's when the both of you knew that she was about to knot into you. grabbing her arm for moral support, you dig your nails harshly into them leaving a few minor scars.

right now you looked so fucked out. you were crying, drooling everywhere all while you were screaming out her name. jimin took her time to place a generous amount of bites and hickeys all over your back too. you know… for extra measures of course.

“aah fuck, pleasepleaseplease alpha cum- cum in me” you sobbed out.

“bout to- gonna,, augh fuck cumming” one final harsh thrust into your cunt and her knot swelled as she spilled every ounce of cum into your hole. your cunt clamping down on her as well, essentially locking the two of you. whilst she knotted into you, she swiftly leaned to the back of your neck and inserted her teeth. it hurt a lot, the feeling of her sharp canines sent your nerves on fire, but only a second later and it felt almost orgasmic.

finally she had marked you, but now you were stuck like this for a while. her knot being large enough to just be stuck in this position. both of you were lowkey back into consciousness, the alpha side of her dying down a little bit and the subby omega side of you dissipating.

after a couple of minutes of basking in your orgasm, her knot went down eventually. it was just enough so that you could move slightly which inevitably caused her semen to seep out of your cunt.

“aaah~ can’t… believe.. i… marked.. you..” catching her breath through each word she managed to muster up “that means you’re mine.. forever, right?”

aww big dom alpha jimin was gone, but your cute puppy of a girlfriend was back. you turn around with her cock still in you and see her smiling right at you, her big puppy eyes beaming with glee.

“yeah.. forever”

#wintersera #omegaverse smut #aespa smut #g!p aespa #karina smut #aespa x reader smut #aespa karina smut #aespa x fem reader smut #g!p karina #yu jimin x reader smut #karina x fem reader smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #kpop girl group smut #fem!reader

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ilwonuu · 3 months

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heyyy!! I absolutely adoreee your work thank you so much for existing! <3 we'll i'd like to share an idea for an ff with skz because me being a stay can't get this idea outta my mind oml. Bang chan has such a warm personality right? But sometimes we see CHRISTOPHER iykyk ;). That is how chan is in relationships too, veryy soft romantically but a hard dom in bed. Chan got reader a pretty dress and ripped it right off because she looked too pretty in it. After they had amazing sex (please right this as you want to you're the best!) Chan shows lots of after care.

Write this only if you want to I'd appreciate you even reading this. Thank you soooooooooooo muchhhh!! take care <3

omg hi!!! that is so sweet omg😭😭thank YOU for existing so i can write this amazing idea for you<3 thank you for your request!!! i hope you enjoy anon💖

୨⎯ too pretty ⎯୧

⤷ bang christopher

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⋆

⚘ summary- your boyfriend is so sweet to you, well not in every scenario.

⚘ warnings- unprotected sex, kissing, dom!chan, sub!reader, degrading, dirty talk, pet names, fluff, chan is a sweetheart okok

⚘ a/n- to the person who requested this.. this is gonna be in my brain forever now thank you😇

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆ ☾

you’re currently waiting for your boyfriend to return from the store. your boyfriend loves to surprise you with new clothing he thinks will look beautiful on you. so that’s exactly what he did. he bought you a new black dress for your dinner tonight.

“channie you didn’t have to get me this. it looks expensive!!” he smiles at you shaking his head. “don’t you worry about how much it was baby. do you like it?” his face is looking for your approval.

“channie i love it very much thank you.” you give him a sweet kiss before smiling again. “try it on baby.” his gaze is scanning you up and down. “right now?” he nods quickly not looking away from you from a second. you laugh slightly as you slip off the clothes you’re wearing.

you put on the dress before asking for help. “babe can you zip up the back?” you ask him looking behind you to meet his gaze. “of course love.” he walks closer to you. zipping up your dress for you before taking a quick look at you.

your gaze is on yourself in the mirror. slowly meeting his gaze in the mirror. “what do you think?” you ask him. his eyes are darker now. not that you can notice from the distance he is from the mirror. his mind immediately thinking anything but sweet thoughts. he thinks you look so beautiful in the dress. “channie??” you snap him out of his thoughts.

he is directly behind you. he still doesn’t say anything. your dress is suddenly ripped completely in the back. “wha- chan?” you are confused as he is lifting you up to bring you to lay back on the bed. “sorry baby you just look so fucking good. i need to fuck you right now.” his gaze is intimidating. you feel so small under his eyes. “can i?” he asks. “yes channie.”

he’s scanning your body as you now in just your underwear. you can feel how hard his dick has gotten from the position you are in. he’s pulling his shirt over his head quickly. your hands immediately going to undo his pants like it’s instinct. “fuck.” his breathing is heavy as you finally get his pants down. his dick feeling some relief.

he’s pulling his dick out of his boxers as he feels you shift a little under him. his fingers hooking on your panties to pull them to the side. “you’re so wet. gonna fuck you so good.” he whispers into your ear as you feel him line up with your cunt. he doesn’t take anytime before he is pushing into you. moaning at your tightness. “take it baby” he orders you before you nod quickly. his hips snap into yours. his pace already speeding up the longer he’s inside of you. his hand is on your hip. his fingers gripping your sides. applying slight pressure.

your gasp getting caught in your throat as you cut yourself off with a moan. his gaze is on moving from your body to your face. his dick hitting all the spots you need him too. even a little too much. his thrusts are rough and deep. his hand is quick to grab your face to look at him. he leans down giving you a quick peck before pulling away to look at you again. his thrusts are quicker and harsher. him never breaking eye contact with you. you’re a sobbing mess from all the pleasure.

“look at you baby. crying like a slut.” his words make your clench around him pulling a loud groan from him. “s-shit you like that? like being called a slut? such a dirty girl.” his teasing words making you nothing but wetter and he just laughs at that. “getting so wet slut. im sliding right in.” he whispers the last part directly against your ear. “pathetic slut. look at you crying for my cock. you moan loudly at how good he sounds.

the sound of your skin clapping, wetness of your arousal, and chans deep moans and groans have you soaked. you cannot get enough of how hot he is. “c-channie mm so close.” your eyes rolling back with even the thought of cumming for him. “yea slut? fucking you so good you gonna cream all over? do it slut.” his hips stutter a bit when he feels you clench around him.

just looking at his focused fucked out expression was enough for you. you are cumming hard on his dick. “fuck b-baby making a mess all over hm? such a dirty slut for me.” his groans are louder now. his gaze not leaving where you two connect. his hand on your hip as he keeps fucking you through your high. “such a good slut gonna let me use you until i cum?” he asks you sternly but doesn’t receive a response. “can’t speak now slut?” his tone even more teasing as your legs start to shake a little. “c-channie too much!” you cry out to him. tears rolling down your face from the overstimulation.

“just a little longer. you can take it right? like good girl.” its almost like he knew you wouldn’t respond because you are just crying out against the pillow. your makeup from earlier dirtying your pillow and sheets. you try to nod a little to his words but you’re far too weak.

you feel his dick twitch again before his voice. “where do you want it slut?” the pet names making you clench again. “s-stomach channie..” you whisper to him and gives you a quick nod.

he gives you a few more thrusts before pulling out. his cum panting your stomach and your chest. he lets out another deep groan. watching you calm down slightly as he stands up. “let me get something to clean you baby.” he gives you a gentle kiss on your head. grabbing a rag quickly returning. not hesitating to clean you off.

after he finishes cleaning you he is immediately laying next to you. you are quickly being pulled into his arms. he gives you a few kisses as you two cuddle. “you did so good baby.” he smiles at you. you nod sending him back a smile. “hungry? tired? what do you need baby?” his voice sounding a hundred times more gentle than it just was a minute ago. you’re not complaining tho. “mm just a little tired. don’t wanna move.” you say melting into his arms more. “you got it baby we will cuddle forever.” he showers your face and neck with sweet kisses.

“channie i can’t believe you ripped the dress you just bought!” you say slightly remembering what events happened before this. “i’m sorry not sorry baby. you just looked too pretty.” he smiles at you innocently. you roll your eyes at him as you playfully hit his chest. “but that dress was so cute channie.” you teasingly pout and he just laughs.

“i will just have to buy you another one hm?” he says before pulling you into another kiss<3

#skz bang chan #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz #skz x reader #bangchan fluff #bangchan stray kids #stray kids bang chan #bangchan smut #bangchan fic #bang chan #stray kids fic #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours

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peachsukii · 4 months

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Blast Off

『♡』 fem!reader x bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ aged to 21 | friends to lovers ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

summary: your favorite metal band is in town, the same one you used to listen to with bakugo back in high school, and you decide to go to the show together! after a long week, a night out in Shibuya is exactly what you need. tags & warnings: brief violence, cursing | friends to lovers, pining, protective bakugo, fluff, first kiss a/n: bakugo would be such a fun person to go to a show with when he’s the one interested! otherwise he’d rather stay home lol ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,714 ꒱

“Yo, you ready yet, dumbass?” Bakugo shouts from your living room, impatiently tapping his foot as he’s waiting for you to finish touching up your makeup in the bathroom.

“Just a sec, Kat!” you call back as you’re leaning over the sink, cleaning up the corner of your eyeliner with a wet cloth.

“Y’don’t even need makeup, dammit!” he retorts, a backhanded compliment to get your ass moving. “Ya probably won’t even -,”

His words die in his throat as you emerge from the hallway and enter the living room.

Woah. She looks fuckin' gorgeous.

You catch him staring as you’re clipping in a pair of earrings. “What? Too much?”

He scoffs as he sneakily checks you out a second time. “Nah, you look great.”

You smile and wink at him. “Thanks, Kat. Right back at ya.”

“If some slimy fucker creeps on you, I’ll punch his lights out.”

You can’t help but snort as his comment.

The outfit you chose to wear fit the scene of the band you were seeing, one of your favorite metal bands that you two would listen to back in high school. It wasn’t too over the top, at least you didn’t think so. An all black ensemble - a thin long sleeve mesh top under your band t-shirt, tucked lazily into a pleather mini-skirt and a pair of tinted sheer tights hugging your legs. Your hair was pulled into a ponytail, a few stray pieces of hair framing your face alongside your bangs.

Bakugo wasn’t as dressed up as you were, donning a simple grey t-shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans with rips in the thighs and black boots. A stack of his favorite bracelets hung on his wrist and a pair of black studs adorned his ears.

“Figure out where you wanna eat?” you ask as you’re looking for your boots in the hallway closet.

“The curry place by the station. We can hop on the train into the city afterwards.”

Boots in hand, you return to the living in room and plop next to him on the couch.

“Those things could squash a damn kid,” Bakugo jokes, pointing to the platforms of your boots as you’re lacing them on your feet.

“They’re literally the same kind you wear on patrol!”

“And you’re still shorter than me with those fuckers on.”

You punch him in the arm, maybe a little too hard, to be playful. “I don’t need to be your height to kick your ass!”

“Ow, shit! Watch it, those hands are fuckin’ deadly!” he scolds, rubbing the reddening mark on his bicep.

“My bad,” you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder as an apology. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Hand it over,” Bakugo orders as you pick up the check from the table, flexing his palm toward you.

“Huh? I told you -,” you start to remind him until he cuts you off mid-explanation.

“Just ‘cause I heard ya doesn’t mean shit. Give it.” He snatches the paper and booklet with one hand while fishing his wallet out of his pocket with the other. “Stop bein’ a brat and let me pay for your damn dinner.”

“I’m not being a brat! I was just trying to treat you to dinner for once,” you say defensively.

“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I let you buy the tickets.”

Bakugo consistently paid whenever the two of you would grab food. It didn’t matter what it was - coffee before work, snacks from the convenience store, lunch outings, dinners in the city - he’d shove you aside and take your card, or be the one to order so you don’t have the chance to hand your card over. The few times you did get to pay for him, he immediately sent you the money back. It’s been a consistent staple in your friendship since Junior year of high school.

While leaving the curry shop, you see the train approaching at the station.

“Shit, Kat. That’s the train we need to catch to make it on time!” you utter in a panic as you grab his wrist. “C’mon!”

You arrive at the venue an hour before the show starts, giving you both enough time to get inside, grab drinks and find a perfect spot as planned.

Once inside, the two of you make your way over to the bar while the crowd was light.

“Are you at least gonna let me buy you a drink?” You tease, elbowing Bakugo in the arm.

He sighs dramatically, the tell-tale sign that he’s no longer going to fight you on it. “You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous.”

Beers in hand, you both head to the general admission area of the venue and situate yourselves near the back - not too squished between loads of people but close enough to see the stage.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you beam, leaning against him as a token of thanks.

He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “Of course. Woulda been mad if ya didn’t ask me to come see the band we had on repeat together through all those study sessions and sparring matches.”

The lights begin to dim and the crowd cheers as the band takes the stage. He lets you take a step back and shift next to him, but keeps his arm around your shoulder. The two of you cheer in unison and hold up your beers for the band as they set up for their first song.

The show has been a goddamn blast! The two of you have been singing and dancing together the whole time, screaming every single lyric. Bakugo loves watching you throw your hands up and yell along with the crowd, having the time of your life and not letting anyone get in your way. It’s infectious - his grin not wavering the entire show.

“We have one more song for the night!” The lead singer announces into the mic. “It’s a special one - thanks for coming out!”

The song they begin to play is one of their slower numbers, one that you know Bakugo adored. You watched as his eyes lit up under the spotlights, taking in the moment as the band progressed through the song. You loop your arm with his, rocking back and forth in unison with the rest of the crowd.

Bakugo removes his arm from your hold to spin you around to face him, pulling you close and holding you to his chest. He gently sways with you in his arms as you embrace him, mimicking a slow dance. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming in his chest alongside the subtle vibrations of him humming to the song. Your eyes flutter closed, absorbing every ounce of love in this moment between the two of you. His hold encased you in a sense of security that you didn’t find with anyone else.

Once the song ends, the band is saying their goodbyes to the crowd as he releases his hold on you.

“I didn’t think they were gonna play that tonight,” you say, smiling up at him. “Guess we gotta buy t-shirts now!”

Bakugo laughs, shaking his head. “Matching ones?”

“It’s either that or we buy one and I constantly steal it from you.”

We?

Bakugo smirked at the suggestion.

“You steal my shit all the time, ya brat,” he teases, pinching your cheek. “I’ll buy two. Which one do y’want?”

“You pick, you have better taste than I do. I’m gonna run to the bathroom before we head out,” you say as you pat him on the shoulder before skipping off to the bathroom. He heads over to the merch table to stand in line for your t-shirts.

It’s been a good 20 minutes since you wandered off. Bakugo meanders over to the bathrooms, the t-shirts he bought for you both draped over his shoulder. He’s poking around, searching for you in the crowd as he spots your ponytail in a sea of others.

You’re talking with some guy that he doesn’t recognize. The guy slithers into your personal bubble as Bakugo stalks up behind you.

“C’mon doll, you’re fine as hell. Don't you -"

"Beat it, jackass. She's obviously not interested," Bakugo interrupts, stepping to your side.

He scoffs and takes a step back from you. "And who the hell are you?"

"Her boyfriend. Now fuck off."

Your cheeks flare at his comment - did he mean that? Or was that just to get this guy off your back?

You turn to leave as the guy slaps your ass - hard. "Have fun with this loser."

Bakugo doesn't even have time to react before your fist crashes into this guy's jaw, clocking him so hard that he stumbles to the floor. The commotion causes one of the security guards to scurry in your direction, beckoning for you to come over to him.

"Shit, we gotta go!" you yell, interlocking your fingers with Bakugo's as you bolt through the crowd and away from the guard before getting caught.

The two of you manage to escape, rushing out of the venue's exit door and into the busy Shibuya streets. You don't stop running until you round a corner and duck into an alley way, hiding from any potential security that could have tailed you and letting go of his hand.

Out of breath, you lean on to the wall and wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

"S-shit, sorry Kat, didn't mean to thrash you around like that."

He takes a second before deciding to box you up against the wall with his frame, catching you off guard. "I'm not complain'."

"Boyfriend, huh? Was that your way of asking me out?" you joke, pulling at the collar of his t-shirt.

Bakugo snickers as he's shutting his eyes, lowering his face to level with your own before your lips meet. The kiss is brief, but enough to get his point across.

"I bought matching band shirts with ya, who the fuck else would I do that shit with?"

You giggle, pulling him back in for another kiss - longer and sweeter than the previous one.

This isn't where you thought the night would end, but you're over the moon.

bakugo just couldn't resist confessing after watching you beat some dude's ass in one punch ;)

Divider by : @/saradika

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #mha fanfiction #katsuki bakugo #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x y/n #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #☆.rei writes

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 9 months

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Imagine annoying the shit outta the red hair pirates

I can't believe I'm doing a stupider one piece version of the Who's on first bit

Shanks: okay, are you listening?

You: *looks him dead in the eye, hearing him just fine*, huh?

Shanks: *lets out a tired sigh* very well there are five marine outposts on this island, they're in the shape of the world government's symbol. I'm talking the center building, which is the unit's headquarters, where most of the ranked marines reside. Benn will take the southern outpost. Lucky Roux will take the western outpost and then Yassop will take the eastern one, and you will take the northern base with most of the crew.

You: Okay

Yassop: *not convinced you were listening* who's taking the eastern outpost?

You: Roux's taking the western outpost.

Yassop: WHO not Roux!

You: here? *Points at the map*

Shanks: Yes, up here

You: But you said Yassop over here at the Eastern outpost?

Shanks: *presses his forehead against the table and gently bangs his head on it.* Yes, I did. Fine, then what about here then? *points at the northern outpost.

You: Benn's at the southern outpost.

Shanks: *groans* can you even hear me?

You: *laughs* yes, you take the central base, Roux takes the western out post, Yassop takes the eastern, Benn attacks the southern one, and I attack the northern with the crew.

Yassop: You actually were listening

You: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.

Shanks: because you act and look like you're not listening.

You: I know, I do it mostly for my own amusement.

Yassop: *puts you in headlock and gives you a noogie* You're lucky you're cute.

At port

Benn: *finalizing the list of supplies needed, and who is getting them*

You: *singing an onomatopoeia of the instrumentals of topic by the champs* wa wewaaaAaAaAa wah wa wewaaaAaAaAa wah *hip checks Benn into the water* tequila wa wewaaaAaAaAa wah *dances in place*

Benn: God damn it (y/n)! *Climbs back on the dock* You're gonna be paired with me and the boss.

You: Noo!

Benn: Yes! And in the meantime you get to assist me our supplies. *hooks his hands under your armpits and picks you up and deposits you on a chair next to him.*

You: *whines*

Benn: do you know why I do this, managing the cargo? So we don't starve.

You: And because your needs were never met when you were a child, and so now you go out of your way to take care of the needs of others while actively neglecting yourself?

Benn: ... Okay look, besides all of that, it needs to get done.

You: What ever lets you sleep at night, sweetheart.

Benn: I loathe you sometimes.

You: *winks and smooches at him*

The Crew: *just finished doing maintenance after a storm damaged the ship and are packing up their supplies*

You: *Hiding in a cabinet and makes the water drop noise with your mouth*

The Crew: *freezes*

Shanks: *dangerously close to yelling*

Yassop: God damn it, I don't have the energy to look around for some stray leak tonight.

Hongo: suck it up, we gotta find it before it leads to flooding.

You: *makes the noise twice again*

Lucky Roux: Especially considering the pantry is below this.

You: *makes the noise again, and tries not to laugh*

Benn: It sounds like it's coming from in here *opens the cabinet you're hiding in* .... (y/n) why are you up here? Y'know what, I don't wanna know, do you see the leak?

You: No *makes the noise while looking him dead in the eyes*

Benn: You little! *grabs you by your ankle, pulls you out, and lifts you by off the ground.*

You: *can't stop laughing*

Benn: I found the leak.

Shanks: what? No.

Benn: *shakes you* make the noise brat, or I'll spank you.

You: Promise?

Benn: Do it again.

You: *tries several times, but fails because you can't stop smiling and has to compose yourself before you can make the noise again.*

Yassop, and Lucky Roux: Can we throw them in the brig for the night.

Shanks: You may not, but we can make them do an idiot check to see if we missed any leaks while the rest of us go to bed.

You: That's fair.

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archangeldyke-all · 2 months

Note

Omg I loved the cellmate reader! But imagine if reader broke Sevika outta jail. Like she’s all cool about and when she walks up to Sevikas cell she’s got her hair up in her hat and sevika can’t see who she is until she tilts her head up grinning at her wife.

Sevika is so shocked to see her housewife breaking her outta jail like. The whole way back to Zain Sevika can’t keep her hands to herself, thanking her wife over and over and saying how much she’s gonna reward her for saving her *wink wink*

LOVE

men and minors dni

"this just feels wrong." you mutter as you check yourself out in the mirror. ran chuckles beside you, tugging their skirt farther down their waist.

"fuckin' tell me about it." they grumble.

they look ridiculous. their bangs are pinned back, their eyes have been washed clean of eyeliner-- they really do look like a cop. "the things i do for her." you grumble. ran giggles again.

"wasn't this in your vows? 'for better or worse, in sickness and health, i vow to love you and break you outta prison if you need?'" they tease. you giggle.

"close enough."

you're both dressed as enforcers-- the uniforms are authentic-- stolen from some dead cops.

four years after you first landed yourself in stillwater-- you're going back. this time, you aren't a prisioner, though. and, despite your current outfit, you haven't gotten a new job as a prison guard.

you're going back for sevika.

she took the charges for silco when he got caught up in piltover, and as a result, she's currently in maximum security.

it's been four months since you've seen your wife. and despite the fact that you keep your nose strictly out of silco and sevika's business-- these past four months you've been at the last drop every single night, studying stillwater blue prints and plotting with ran and silco and lock.

it all passes in a blur for you. you're so nervous, and so excited to see your girl, that you don't register much as you make your way to stillwater.

ran does most of the talking. there's not much talking to be done-- the uniforms and badges you're wearing get you in the gates surprisingly easily-- but you're too jittery to do much more than stutter. so ran does most the talking.

you keep your hand on the switchblade tucked into the waist of your enforcer skirt. sevika gifted it to you on your first real date, and she's been teaching you how to defend yourself with it ever since. you've never had to use it, mostly because everyone in the undercity knows you're sevika's, but you won't hesitate to use it now to get to her.

the familiar atmosphere of the prison is comforting, in a strange way. it's where you met sevika, where you got to know her, where you both fell for one another.

and now it's where you're going to reunite again.

the deeper underground you get, the fewer prisoners and the more guards there are. you're starting to get antsy. ran elbows you.

"relax." they grumble. you gulp.

"don't tell me to relax, it' been four fucking months since--"

"oh my god, i know." ran groans. you sigh.

"sorry. i miss her." you mumble. ran chuckles.

"not as much as she misses you." they say. you huff a bit.

despite the rough start to you and ran's friendship-- with you stabbing them the last time they were breaking sevika out of prison-- they've become a good friend of yours. especially since they're the one who's always helping you get sevika out of trouble.

they're also the one who agreed to let you come along tonight. it was meant to be ran and lock, with you as the getaway driver, but you begged to go in. you want to see her as soon as you fucking can.

and then: ran pulls you to a stop.

"prisoner." they mumble, a smile in their voice as they tap their metal fingers against the bars of a cell. your stomach bursts into butterflies when you see the signature flicker of sevika's lighter in the dark cell. you can see her smirk in the brief light, and you nearly burst into tears.

the ring of keys on ran's hip jingles as they pull them off and unlock sevika's cell. you don't hesitate to slam the door open and start sprinting into the cell.

it's the wrong move. sevika's expecting ran and lock, not ran and you: and in the dark, she assumes you're lunging at her to attack her. "wait!" ran calls after you, too late.

a crack rings out in the cell, followed by a groan: sevika socked you right in the nose. "ffffffuck, babe!" you whine, grabbing your nose.

sevika gasps in the dark. then, strong arms are hugging you and you're being pushed out into the hallway-- into the light.

"what the fuck are you doing here?!" sevika cries.

"i--" she doesn't let you answer, shoving her mouth against yours as she backs you up against the concrete wall oppisite her cell.

you moan into her mouth, your nose throbbing in pain, your cunt throbbing in arousal.

her hands trail down to your ass, then sneak up your skirt to start palming your cunt. you whimper, and she growls.

ran clears their throat.

you pull your mouth away from sevika with a gasp, but she doesn't seem to have heard ran-- her mouth ducking down to start sucking hickeys on your neck. she starts grinding the palm of her hand against your wet cunt, and you gasp-- pulling her hair hard. sevika mewls.

"janna, i shoulda brought a spray bottle." ran mumbles.

"s-sev, baby, we gotta go." you whisper, your voice shaking when she sinks her teeth into your neck. she licks the indents her teeth left behind, then stands to her full height, removes her hands from your skirt.

you cuff her wrists, then hook your arm around her elbow, guiding her down the hall as ran leads the two of you.

you've got five minutes before the real guards do their rounds and stillwater goes on lockdown when they realize sevika's missing.

ran's the only one who seems to care about this time crunch. sevika keeps shoving you against walls, grabbing your tits biting your lips, fighting against her handcuffs as she tries to grip your hips.

you let her, each and every time.

a guard stops the three of you. "fuck happened to you?" he asks you, looking you over.

your skirt's rumpled, your shirt's untucked and unbuttoned, and your enforcer hat's been knocked off and lost. all sevika's doing.

you cringe, suddenly nervous. ran just scoffs as the cut in to cover for you.

"the prisoner here got the jump on this rookie." ran explains. "broke the poor kid's nose." they gesture to your bleeding nose. you nod.

"fuckin' asshole." you mumble, trying to hold your smile back as you nudge sevika like you're angry.

she stumbles and giggles. it comes off as a defiant laugh in the face of authority to the guard. to you, you know she's fucking giddy.

he waves the three of you along.

the second you're in the van with sevika, she's on you.

lock starts the car and starts driving off, ran in the passenger seat laughing in glee at once again flawlessly slipping through stillwater's 'impenetrable' security system, and sevika throws herself at you in the back before you can even unlock her cuffs.

"sev!" you laugh. she's practically dry humping you, kissing any part of you she can reach. she hums.

"fuck-- you're the hottest enforcer i've ever seen." she mumbles. "i'm so fuckin' sorry about your nose, baby--" you cut her off by pressing your mouth against hers again.

"no fucking in the van." lock says.

you flip him off, before fumbling for the key to sevika's handcuffs.

the second one of her hands is free, she doesn't bother letting you free the other. she just lets the cuffs dangle off her mech wrist like a tacky bracelet, as she wraps her arms around you pulling you impossibly closer to her.

"i missed you so fucking much." you whimper, on the verge of tears.

sevika smells like shit. she probably hasn't showered in a week. in solitary, you don't even get a mattress-- just two blankets to lay on the ground. she's sore and grimy and she's been sitting in a dark room for weeks on end-- you planned for your first time together again to be after soaking her in a long, fragrant bath, given her at least an hour long massage, and gotten her in your freshly made bed.

it seems like that might have to be your second time.

sevika's between your legs-- both of which are hooked over her waist-- your skirt is around your waist and your hands are tugging her pants down as she grinds pathetic circles against your cunt.

"oh, fuck, i missed you too." she whines. "i love you so fuckin' much, i'm gonna put a fuckin baby in you, i missed your cunt so mu--"

"woah!" ran cries. "please! we're two minutes away from the last dro--"

"take me home." sevika growls.

ran scoffs-- "sevika, silco wants to see--"

"i'll see 'im tomorrow. or he can come over in a few hours. take me the fuck home." she demands. you giggle, using her distraction to uncuff her other wrist.

she smiles down at you when lock starts the van in the direction of your shared home.

the two of you stumble out in front of your home a minute later, lock screaming something about silco coming over in a bit behind the two of you.

neither of you notice.

you stumble into your home, attached at the lips. sevika's hands are flying up and down your body, groping your ass, thighs, hips, tits, all in quick succession. she growls as you guide her to the bedroom. "been thinkin' about you every fuckin' second since they locked me up." she mumbles. you whimper. "prison's no fun without you there."

you chuckle against her lips, stripping her of her prison uniform. you're gonna burn the clothes the second you're done with her.

you push her down-- she spreads out starfished and naked on the bed, groaning as she relaxes against the mattress.

"fuck." she moans.

you smile down at her, straddling her waist and stroking her cheek. she nuzzles against your palm.

"i missed you so much." you whisper. "i love you so much. you're the most precious thing in the world, baby."

sevika whimpers, and then, before you know what's happening, she's flipping you and pinning you beneath her.

she starts grinding against you again, but this time, both of you are naked. you groan as your cunts slide together and sevika whimpers, burying her face in your neck as she cries and fucks you.

you don't mention the tears soaking your neck. you just wrap yourself around your wife, pressing kisses anywhere you can reach as she fucks you.

"you're okay baby." you whisper, scratching against her scalp. "you're okay. 'm right here, 'm not goin' anywhere. i'll always come 'n find you sev, y' can't get rid of me that easy." you promise her.

she whimpers. "'m gonna cum."

you shiver at her words-- fuck you've missed her.

"fuck, fuck, please, sev, please, i've missed you, i've missed you, honey." you whisper. "i wanna make you feel good-- wanna make you cum-- you waited so fuckin' long all alone and--"

"but you're here now." she whispers. you moan, cumming at the reminder, and the sight of it pushes her over the edge. "baby fuck!" she cries, burying her face against your neck as she cums.

you're both shaking and crying, panting for air, soaked in sweat and cum, and laughing.

"shit." sevika sighs, nuzzling against you. you hum. "think i jerked off, like, a billion times imagining that." she mumbles. you burst into laughter. "nowhere near as good as the real fuckin' thing though." she sighs.

you kiss the goofy smile off her face. "wish i coulda snuck you some nudies or somethin'." you mumble. she snorts.

"nearly came in my pants when i realized it was you showin' off your legs in that slutty uniform."

"after you nearly shit in your pants when you realized it was me you just punched?" you ask. sevika giggles, gently kissing your swollen nose.

"simultaneously, actually. weirdest sensation of my life." she jokes. you burst into laughter.

"i love you!" you giggle. she smiles.

"i love you too."

"if you get off of me i'll draw you a bath." you offer.

"do i smell that bad?"

"yes."

she bites your shoulder and you squeak. "will you join me?"

"yes." you say.

you can feel her smile against your shoulder.

"i'm gonna marry you all over again." she mumbles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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lesservillain · 5 months

Text

—ii. gotta promise not to stop when i say "when"

cw: more grumpy eddie, a lot of piss talk (sorry)

an: credit for the edited picture of eddie goes to itsscarrlett and the picture of jason patric is implied to be sam.

Tears sit on your lash line as you pull up to the Munson house today. Parking on the side, just out of sight to “keep your car safe in case unwanted visitors show up,” you lift your head, willing the tears not to fall before going inside. It’s already been a tough week for them, the last thing you need is to bring your own dramatics into their lives. Normally you could let things slide off your back, but the customer’s that had come into CoffeeHouse today were demanding at best, cruel and abusive at worst all week.

“Damnit, Ed!” You hear Wayne yelling from down the hall as you open the front door with your key, given to you on your first day earlier this week.

“Hi,” you squeak out as the older man storms past you and into the kitchen. He does a double take, a wild look in his eye at someone else being in his home, calming down once he realizes it’s you.

“Hey there, darlin’. Didn’t think you’d be here so early today.” He has an almost clean plate in his hand, save for some untouched veggies that look like they taste like cardboard.

“I’m sorry, I can come back later if—”

“No, no, you’re fine. Did ya get outta class early or…?”

“No, Friday is my short day,” you say, swinging your bag over the back of the couch and letting it land on the seat cushion. “I came from work. It was…rough, so I left a little early. Sorry I should have called first.”

“It’s alright,” he assures, turning to walk into the kitchen where you follow him. “I just gave Eddie his dinner so he’s still awake. Gonna need to give him his pain meds before I go. He’s been in a sour mood all day, complaining about…uh,” Wayne ducks his head bashfully, not wanting to look you in the eyes.

“Well I guess it wouldn’t be weird for you to hear it given your profession and all, but he’s, uh, been complaining about it hurtin’ when he pisses.” His voice trails off, barely audible over the sink being turned on as he cleans Eddie’s plate.

“Well, that’s not good,” you say with concern. “Has he been drinking a lot of water? Staying hydrated?”

“Yeah, yeah—well, as much as he’s willing to drink. Been trying to keep him from sippin’ on sodas all day, but the ice maker in this fancy fridge hasn’t been working for some reason lately and he wont drink the water if it’s not cold.” Wayne lightly bangs his fist on the side of the fridge.

“What about his urine? Does it seem like it’s darker than normal lately? Or cloudier than normal?”

“Uh…maybe? I’ll be honest, I’m not really lookin’ at his piss when I’m dumping the urinal for ‘em.”

You give an understanding hum, sympathizing with him. It has to be awkward, everything he’s had to do for his nephew since he came home from the hospital. There’s nothing that you want to do more than help them out. But, there is one big problem that’s been keeping you from doing so: Eddie.

Eddie will not let you come in his room, let alone take care of him. He makes Wayne get him set up for the night before he leaves, and then stays in his room with the door shut for the rest of the night. You still haven’t even seen him since you first came on Monday. Any time you’ve tried to come in, even just to check on him, he’s pulled his covers over himself to hide away from your view. The most you’ve seen is a few tendrils of curly hair illuminated by the light of his tv when you peaked in before going to sleep.

It felt like housesitting more than taking care of anyone. You almost forget you’re not there by yourself, the sounds of Eddie’s bed creaking when he adjusts it or the light sound of his TV playing being the only reminder that you’re not alone.

“Do you think he may let me go in there and…check?” You tilt with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like instead of you dumping it, maybe I could do it? Just to see if I notice anything abnormal. If he has a UTI and it’s bad enough that it’s bothering him, he may need an antibiotic.”

“He needs a swift kick in the ass if you ask me.” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter. He opens a cabinet and grabs Eddie’s medications for the night. “But, I’ll see what I can do. He’s not in the best mood for negotiatin’ right now, but I’ll see if I can get him to give. Gotta let you help him out sooner or later.”

You nod, waiting at the end of the hall as he talks it out with Eddie. There’s a bit of a back and forth between them, muffled by the living room TV playing behind you.

You wondered if Eddie would even let Wayne take him to the doctor if he needed to go. He’s clearly very stubborn, but you’re sure a lot of his anger must come from being in pain from what happened to him. It's hard to blame him for not trusting people after how this town treated him, but you wish he would at least give you the chance to prove yourself.

After a few moments, Wayne walks back out with a not so promising look on his face.

“No dice,” he sighs, hands slapping against his sides before sliding into his jeans pockets. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug, “maybe he’ll warm up to me someday.”

“He better. He can only keep up this ornery attitude for so long.” Wayne eyes the clock on the wall behind you, taking a half step back into the hall. “D’ya mind if I take a shower right quick? I did a little yard work outside and I don’t want to feel all sweaty at the machine tonight.”

“Of course! I’ll keep an ear out for him if he rings.”

“Thanks,” he takes the few strides toward the bathroom, calling out before he goes inside, “The food on the oven should still be warm if ya wanna help yourself!”

The mention of food has your stomach growling. It had been such a busy day you struggle to remember if you even ate anything at all, and chicken parmesan that sat in the glass container looked mouth watering. The smell of the savory dish had you making a plate so quick you almost dropped the new glassware on the floor.

You were just about to take a bite when the tingle of a bell rang from his room. Your head perks up, eyes widening in disbelief.

Just as quickly as you made your plate you abandoned it, moving hastily until you reached the slightly cracked door. Muffled groans could be heard from inside of the room, your hand flexes over the door handle.

“Um, Eddie?” The groans stop. It's silent besides the sound of his TV. You grab the handle, pushing the door open slightly.

“Eddie, it’s—“

“Go away.” His strained voice is stern, stopping you in your tracks.

“I-I’m sorry, I heard your bell—“

“I said go away.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You back away from the door, pulling it until it's cracked once again.

But you don’t move from the door. Rather, you do what you normally do in these situations. You think. Think about how you should have stuck up to him. You should have told him that Wayne is busy, that he either gets your help or no help at all.

You also think of a kinder scenario, where you’re able to walk in, peel his covers back and tell him it’s okay, that he can trust you, if he would just give you a chance.

The sound of the bathroom door opening startles you, making you take a step back from the door in front of you. Wayne walks out with a puff of steam, looking down the hall towards the living room, then down to you. He gets spooked seeing you there, shaking his head and his hand flying to his chest.

“Everything okay?” He asks with a worried tone.

“Um, Eddie’s bell, he rang it. But he didn’t want me so—“

“Jesus,” Wayne exhales, “Okay, thank you for trying.” He walks past you and opens Eddie’s bedroom door. “Boy!” You hear him say just as the door closes. The rest of the words are muffled as they go back and forth, and you take that as your cue to go and finish your dinner.

The night was going just the same as it had been the last few nights this week.

“…I have a date to play this morning,” Dorothy declares as she enters the kitchen. Blanch yells out “With a man?!” in shock.

“No, with a Venus Flytrap.” Dorothy retorts with a roll of her eyes.

You laugh at Dorothy’s quip, the late night replays of the Golden Girls keeps you distracted as you half study for an anatomy test. It’s been your favorite subject so far, but it’s still proving to be difficult even this far into your schooling. Your book sits open in your lap, sitting on top of your blanket that you’ve brought from home while you sit cozied up on the Munson’s couch.

You glance up at the clock on the wall that reads just a little past 11pm. You groan, closing your book and sliding off the couch to the floor. You grab your bag and open it, pulling out your clean uniform and laying it out on the back of the couch for your opening shift. You go through your night routine and check the front door locks before getting yourself settled on the couch for bed.

Just as you get settled under the covers, you hear the soft tingle of a bell from down the hall. You jolt upright, looking down the hall where Eddie’s TV illuminated the small crack in his door. Did you actually hear his bell? Surely he knows Wayne went to work tonight, right?

The bell rings again, more aggressively this time and you respond by practically sprinting down the hall, almost tripping on your blanket as you go. You’re about to burst through the door, but stop yourself in time to remember to knock, hand on the knob to keep the door from opening.

“E-Eddie?” You call into the slight opening.

“...yeah,” you hear, less muffled than what you normally hear from him.

“Can I come in?”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

“Yes, please.”

Carefully, you push the bedroom door open. It’s dark, barely visible thanks only to the TV in the corner. As you step in your eyes adjust, landing on the form in the bed that is Eddie. He’s still mostly covered by his piles of blankets, but you can see a pair of eyes with the glare of the light hitting them looking straight at you, the rest of his face covered with his comforter.

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, immediately cringing at your actions. “Um, how can I help you?”

Eddie blinks at you, unmoving. The covers over him suddenly rise, pulled down just enough for his arm to snake out, his whole body shifting to reach for something on the floor. Quickly, you move forward and to the side of his bed, not wanting him to over extend himself.

As you get closer, you see him lifting up a plastic bottle — a hospital urinal, off of the floor slowly. For a split second you remember the easy grip silverware that you’ve been washing for him, and you instinctively reach out for the urinal before he can lift it much further off the ground.

“Let me get it for you, Mr.Munson,” you say, taking the very full container in your hands. When you look over to him, you’re able to see more of his face from his covers shifting. Or, at least what wasn’t covered by long curly hair, his pinched brow and frown lines highlighted by the TV light. He lets go of the urinal, grabbing his covers and pulling them up and over to hide himself once more.

With a sigh, you make your way into his bathroom, flipping on the lights so you can better see where you’re dumping the urinal. When you get a proper look at the container in your hands, you have to suppress a gasp when you notice the almost brown color of the urinals contents.

“Fuck,” you whisper quietly to yourself. This is not good. Eddie definitely needs an antibiotic, like, 3 days ago. Especially if he’s complaining of back pain, he could be getting a kidney infection, and he’s in no state to be dealing with that—

“What’s taking so long?”

Eddie’s strained voice snaps you back into reality. You quickly dump his urinal, running a little water into it and dumping that as well before running it back out to him.

“Sorry, here you go,” you place the container back on the ground, before rushing back into the bathroom to wash your hands.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask as you turn off his bathroom light.

“No,” he says from under his covers.

You breathe in, “Okay, um, well I’m going to go lay down. So, just, ring the bell extra loud if you need me again. Okay?”

A grunt is all you get as confirmation from him. A hand pops out from under the covers with a remote in grasp, pushing the power button and leaving you in the dark.

A loud crash wakes you from your sleep. Practically flying down the hall, you push in Eddie’s bedroom door and flip on the light.

“Oh my god!” You shriek out at the display before you. Eddie’s face down on the floor, halfway between his bed and his bathroom. You rush to his side and give him a quick look over, the first thing you notice being the cord from his lamp tucked around his ankle…his only ankle.

Looking over him more you realize that the plaid pajama pants he’s wearing are tied at the halfway point, emphasizing the missing lower half of his right leg. Now, you knew Eddie had difficulty with mobility. You’d seen the wheelchair in his room before, and the easy access details that were built in the house didn’t escape you either. But, you were not made aware that he was an amputee.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally takes a deep breath in, letting it out with audible annoyance. He turns his head hair covering his face the same as before, blowing it away with a puff of air in a comical way that makes you snort when it falls even more into his eyes. You take it upon yourself to move his hair out of the way for him, revealing a very disgruntled and very…handsome face.

“Hi,” he says, shortly, looking up at you with one big, chocolate button eye.

“Hi,” you respond, unable to suppress your smile at his attitude. “Need some help?”

“Guess you could say that,” he huffs, positioning his arms to push himself up.

“What would you like me to do?”

He says nothing, only lifting his hand up in a way that silently asks for yours in return. You take it, bracing yourself as you help him sit up. He grunts as he gets up onto his ass, face scrunching up in pain from all the movement.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” You ask, landing on your knees next to him ready to assess any injuries.

“Not anymore than I already was,” he says with a sarcastic groan, leaning back on both hands as he breathes through the pain.

“Well, I guess that’s good,” you say, the tension leaving your shoulders as you come out of panic mode.

As you give him a moment to collect himself, you take the opportunity to really look at Eddie for the first time. His hair is dark, wild curls sticking out every which way from being hidden under the covers. Now that it’s mostly out of his face, say for some overgrown bangs that are currently half covering his forehead, half sticking up, you can see his face pretty clearly. He really does have handsome features, his plump lips sticking out to you the most.

A scar covers a large part of his right cheek traveling down his neck and almost to his shoulder. Similar scars of various sizes go down his arms and are littered across his torso, all of them looking very new for being a few months old already.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Eddie says with a tight smile and a sarcastic tone.

“I’m sorry,” you say solemnly.

“S’alright. Can’t blame you for looking. I’m kinda like a car accident when you can’t look away.”

“No, no,” you shake your head, raising to your feet. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, his head dropping down where his hair could cover his face. He’s truly a pitiful sight, a broken man on the ground with all of his scars on display. You notice his hair is matted in the back where small rat’s nests have formed and you think about how clean the bathroom looked earlier. How long has it been since he’s left his bed?

“Do you want to take a shower?”

Brown curls fly as Eddie’s head snaps up to look at you, an offended look on his face. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, I’m asking you if you want to take a shower. Also, follow up question, why were you trying to get to the bathroom the begin with? Wait,” you stand up straight, a wave of hot nerves washing over you, “did you ring your bell and I didn’t hear it?”

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. “No,” he says, his vision casting down to his lap, “I, um… I had to piss. But my piss can’s full, and I—” He huffs, hand running through his tangled hair. His voice picks up an octave, “I didn’t want to wake you up. I don’t want your help.”

“I understand,” you say, “I don’t think I would want a stranger's help trying to take a piss either.” As you talk, you cross the room to where his wheelchair is parked, pulling it over to him and kicking the locks in place. “But — and I’m sure this wont help when I say this — I am in nursing school. I’ve seen some things in the last year. Things that are, unfortunately, permanently etched into my corneas for the rest of my life.”

He watches you with wide, curious eyes as you stand in front of him, placing yourself with your legs on either side of his. Crouching down in front of him, you reach your hands out to help him up, waiting for him to take your hands in return.

“What I’m saying is that there isn’t anything to be embarrassed about with me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

He looks at your hands, then up to you. You give him a smile, gesturing at him to take your hands, which he finally accepts after a moment of silence.

There’s a slight buzz that radiates in your shared touch, his rough, calloused hands grip tightly in yours. You ignore the head that creeps to your ear and count to three, bracing yourself as he uses all of his strength to pull himself up. With a quick pivot he plops down in his wheelchair, his breathing heavy after using so much energy.

“You okay?” You ask, waiting for him to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” breath in. “I’m fine,” breath out.

“Maybe we should skip the shower tonight?” You question with a raised brow.

“I never agreed to a shower in the first place,” he retorts.

You nod your head in acceptance. “Well, what if I at least brush your hair while you’re up—”

“No. Nope. No thanks.” His resistance was punctuated with exaggerated hand movements.

“Alright, alright,” you ceded, not wanting to push your luck. “Do you still need to pee or am I helping you back in bed?”

“I can do it myself,” he says, sloppily maneuvering his wheelchair towards the bathroom, facing away from you. Without another word, Eddie pushes the bathroom door closed and leaves you standing in the middle of his bedroom. You blink a few times, until you remember him mentioning that his urinal is full. Grabbing it from the other side of his bed, you take it to the hall bathroom to dump out, keeping a tentative ear in case Eddie calls out for you.

At the same time that you walk back into the bedroom, Eddie opens the bathroom door and wheels himself out. The look on his face is pained, brows furrowed together with a wince.

“Are you okay?” You ask, setting his urinal back where he could reach it.

“I’m fine,” he says shortly, making an attempt to straighten his face.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He gives you a sharp glare. “I said I’m fine.”

You were about to throw your hands up in defense, not wanting to poke the bear. But, something inside you told you to keep pushing.

“Eddie, can I be honest with you?”

He stares at you from the other side of the bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say sarcastically. “I’m pretty sure you have a UTI. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he states with a huff.

“Okay…so can I ask why you’re not going to a doctor for it?”

His eyes clamp shut, and he breathes in sharply with a bit of a shake.

“Listen, I get you’re like a student nurse or something. But, to me, you’re just a glorified babysitter, alright? You don’t know a damn thing about me, so just…” Eddie looks up at you, waving his hand dismissively. “Answer the bell when it rings.”

Do his words sting a little? Maybe a tad. But really you feel bad for him more than anything. Wayne’s told you that Eddie was a troublemaker at times before what happened, but he has a heart of gold and has always meant well. The sadness in the old man’s eyes looks a lot like the pain in the eyes of the younger man before you. And you know pain makes people behave in strange ways.

“Hey, little lady. I think it’s time for you to get up and goin’.” Wayne’s soft, gruff voice stirs you from your slumber, pulling you from the light sleep you had fallen into after making sure Eddie got back into bed okay. Rubbing your eyes, the light from the kitchen illuminates the wall clock reading 4:30 in the morning. You let out a low, petulant groan as you rise from the couch, sliding down to the ground below to grab your things and get ready for the day.

The smell of coffee penetrates your nostrils as you wash your face, followed by a scent of eggs and bacon that makes your stomach cry out. You were definitely going to have to stop somewhere and grab something to eat on the way to work.

Just as you step out of the bathroom, Eddie’s bell rings from his room. Not wanting Wayne to leave his food to get cold, you cross the hall and knock on Eddie’s door. When he gives you the go head, you push the door open and are once again greeted by only a lump under a mattress.

“What can I help you with?” You ask as you enter the room.

“Are you making food?”

“Oh, I’m not. Wayne is though. Do you want me to have him make you a plate?”

“Wayne’s home?”

“Yeah, he just got—”

“Then why are you still here?”

Your mouth snaps shut. If you weren’t so tired, you’d probably just brush it off as him being grumpy. But your lack of restful sleep had you pivoting on your heel and closing the door behind you. You didn’t have the energy to deal with his attitude this early in the morning, so he could wait.

“Smells good in here,” you say cheerfully, pushing Eddie’s comment to the back of your mind.

“Glad you think so. Yours is sitting right there for ya.” Wayne nods his head towards the bar seat where a plate of eggs, bacon and toast sits waiting.

“Oh, Mr.Munson, you didn’t have to—”

“Now, now, can’t send ya into work on an empty stomach now can I?”

You pull out the seat and sit in it slowly. You feel guilty for eating their food, but you would also feel terrible to turn down a meal made for you.

As you start to eat, you watch as Wayne makes another plate. He takes the time to break up the pieces of bacon into small parts and cuts the scrambled eggs up to make them more loose. He grabs the plate and a bowl full of what looks like oatmeal and excuses himself from the kitchen.

It only takes a moment of him being gone for you to notice that he forgot the silverware sitting on the counter. You thought about just leaving it, not really wanting to deal with Eddie any more at this point, but Wayne did make you food after a long shift at work so you might as well do it for him.

You bump the door open softly with your hip, utensils in one hand and some napkins in the other. The bickering between the two men ceases as they hear you come in with a sweet smile on your face.

“Might be hard to eat without these,” you say sweetly, placing the items on Eddie’s tray. Wayne’s eyes dart back and forth between you and where Eddie is sitting up, uncovered. Eddie glares at you, not acknowledging his uncle’s reaction to what he thinks is the first time you’re seeing his nephew.

Wayne’s hand taps against Eddie’s arm subtly. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says with raised brows, looking at Eddie expectantly.

“What?” he says, playing dumb.

“Ed, seriously.”

“Ugh, fine. Thanks.”

“You are so welcome. I hope you have a good weekend, Eddie,” you say as you turn to leave the room. “See you on Monday!”

Water splashes under your tires as you drive up the muddy driveway to the hidden Munson home. It’s been a dreary day, overcast and a consistent downpour setting the mood from the moment you woke up. All the studying you did in the Munson’s living room last week paid off when you passed your test this morning, and the rest of the day consisted of lab work, which was the only reason you managed to keep your eyes open until the end of class.

As you park your car, pulling your hood over your head to protect yourself from the rain, you rush to your back seat to grab your bags and the two pizza boxes you stopped to get on the way over. A comfort food for you, and you doubted that the two men inside would turn down a slice. Hopefully Wayne would take some with him to work so he wouldn’t have to worry about his lunch.

With full hands you opted to knock on the door instead of trying to fumble your keys out and juggle two large, hot boxes of pizza. It took a moment but the door eventually swung open with an overjoyed Wayne on the other side.

“What’s all this now?” He says with a chuckle, stepping aside for you to come in.

“It’s my favorite rainy day food,” you say as you kick your muddy shoes off, leaving them on the porch and stepping inside. “And I figured I’d get enough to share. Payback for breakfast on Friday.”

As you entered the home, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there had been some decorating done over the weekend. Some shelves line the walls in various spots, mostly empty except for a mug and a couple hats, but it made a world of difference to the space by comparison.

“Ya don’t have’ta pay me back for anything like that,” Wayne says as he takes the boxes from you and takes them into the living room. “It’s the least I can do. I wish I could pay ya something for being here.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better I wouldn’t take your money anyway,” you say taking in the made kitchen table, no longer covered in boxes. “I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” You look at Wayne directly and really notice the dark circles under his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept all weekend.

“Thanks…it’s nothing compared to the old place, but over time…” A distant sadness lives in his stare as he scans the room, looking past you before finally focusing once again on the food in front of him. “Well, I’m hoping that we can make it feel like a home, eventually.”

A loud groan from down the hall startles you and Wayne’s head drops with exasperation. “I better go check on him,” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter and taking off towards Eddie’s room.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, following behind him.

“Not really,” Wayne says, “Whatever he has, it’s gotten worse since you left. He’s got a fever that we’ve trying to fight—”

“A fever?!” You stop at the mouth of the hall, “And he still hasn’t seen a doctor?”

“Trust me, if I could get him to go I would. But he’s convinced it’ll pass on it’s own.”

Shit, this isn’t good, you think. Quietly, you peak in the door behind Wayne and you have to catch yourself before you audibly gasp. Eddie’s laid up in his bed, face flushed and his hair pulled up and out of his face with a washcloth on his forehead. The sheets around him look like they’re drenched from sweat and he’s covered in nothing but a thin sheet, likely burning up from the fever.

Backing out of the doorway, you pad down the hall as quickly as you can and grab their wall phone, fingers hitting the keys as fast as you can move them. You had thought about doing this all weekend, but you’d just hoped that maybe Eddie would cave and let Wayne take him to a doctor.

“Hello?” The familiar voice of your family doctor, who you called Ms. Gene, on the other line pulls a sigh of relief from you. She had been a friend of your grandmother’s and always told you to call her if you ever needed anything, even after hours, staying true to her word when your grandpa had his heart attack and she walked you through how to perform CPR at 12 years old.

Over the phone you told her the symptoms that Eddie was having, but replacing his name with yours. “Oh, my word,” Ms. Gene says on the other line, “That sounds like a pretty bad infection, dear. Probably going to need an antibiotic and some Pridium to help with the pain. Are you still staying with your friend, Tonya? I can call it in to a pharmacy over there for you.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually doing some volunteer work in Hawkins. If you could call in to me, like, as soon as possible, that would be perfect.”

“Hawkins? Where that Earthquake happened? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised you’d go somewhere like that to help. Where do you want me to call it in to?”

“Uummmmm,” you stall, running over to the cabinet where Wayne keeps Eddie’s pain medicine, grabbing a bottle and reading the pharmacy’s information to her.

“Alright, I’ll call that over for you,” she says sweetly.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Gene. You are a life saver!”

“Of course, dear. Oh, before you go,” she say, grabbing your attention again. “I noticed here that you haven’t called for your birth control since February. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No, ma’am,” you cringe, “I just, um, I’ve been busy with school and I h-haven’t exactly needed it.”

“Ah, I see,” she says with an obvious skepticism. “Well, if you do start needing it again, just give me a call, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

Just as you hang up the phone, Wayne walks back into the kitchen with a defeated look. The combination of Eddie’s condition and Wayne’s obvious stress has you feeling the tension in the air, making your words come out your mouth before you think about them.

“Wayne, I, um,” you stutter, “I need to run into town, to-to the pharmacy. I was going to stop on the way in and totally forgot.”

“Oh, okay,” Wayne turns to look at the clock on the stove. You’d gotten there early again, which hopefully would mean that you had enough time to get to the pharmacy and come back before Wayne needed to leave.

“Ya know you can use our stuff here, right? Don’t have to bring all your own things from home.”

“O-oh, thank you. But, um, the stuff I need is…personal.” He looks at you with a quirked brow and a slight tilt of the head. “Girl stuff,” you state, hoping that would be good enough of an excuse. And it was, the tips of his ears going red when he got the idea.

Thanks to Wayne’s very detailed directions you were able to get around the construction and to the Hawkin’s pharmacy and back within an hour. The rain had let up to a sprinkle when you pulled in again, Wayne walking out of the house as you pulled the keys from the ignition.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not making you late. Did you grab some pizza?”

Wayne lifts a plastic bag with the food and a couple soda cans, “Got some right here. And it’s alright, I’ll be just fine. Did you, um, get what you needed?” You mimic his move, lifting your plastic bag as well, which elicited a hardy chuckle from the older man. “Good, good,” he says with a nod, “In the hall bathroom, I went ahead and cleared you a shelf in the closet in there. So, feel free to keep your stuff there. You don’t have to,” he says assuredly, “but I figured I’d give ya the option, ya’know?”

Your cheeks squish your eyes with how hard you smile, overwhelmed with the consideration of your needs. Something you’re not used to.

“Thank you very much, Wayne. That was very sweet of you to do.”

His ears turn red again, but he smiles back. “I’m — we’re not really used to having women around, but I want you to be comfortable here. You bein’ here has been more helpful than you think.”

The praise goes right to your heart, and you beam so hard you’re surprised the clouds didn’t part and let in a ray of sunshine over you. Instead, the rain starts to pick up again and the two of you part ways quickly to escape the downpour.

As soon as you get settled inside, you bust out the prescription bags and look over the medication directions. The antibiotic that Ms.Gene prescribed is for 10 days, and you realize that you didn’t even think about what you would do when you weren’t there. You don’t think Wayne would be mad about getting Eddie an antibiotic since he’s still being so stubborn, but you also don’t want to assume. Maybe you’ll wait to tell him on Friday when Eddie starts to feel better.

You prep the medicine and head down the hall where you can hear Eddie moaning lowly from his room. Knocking first, you push the door open and find Eddie to be in the same condition as he was when you saw him earlier. You felt awful for him, almost missing the bad attitude compared to the pained sounds he’s giving you now.

“Eddie,” you coo softly, grabbing his water jug from his bedside table. His eyes flutter open, half lidded and following your movements as you stand next to him. “Eddie, I’m going to sit you up a bit, okay?”

“Why?” He huffs out, wincing as the head of his bed raises him up to an almost sitting position.

“I have some medicine for you,” you say, showing him the pills in the little plastic cup.

He shakes his head, “No, no, Wayne already gave me my night meds.”

“These are different from those,” you offer the small cup to him to look at. “I just went and picked them up for you. The yellow and black one is an antibiotic and the little brown one will help with urinary pain.” He keeps shaking his head, refusing the medication. You look up at the ceiling, breathing in and out to calm yourself before you get frustrated. “Eddie, why don’t you want to take them? You have to feel terrible. Do you not want to get better?”

His eyes stay trained on his lap, the gears in his brain turning. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly snaps shut as he shakes his head more. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says, his voice going up an octave as his eyes go glossy.

“No, you’re right. You don’t,” you say softly. “But, I do want to help you, despite what you want to think. If there’s something I can do to help you believe that, I would love to hear it.”

His head luls to the side, eyes moving back and forth before rolling to look at you. “Let me see the bottles,” he says.

“The bottles?”

“Yes, the pill bottles.”

“Oh, okay!” You set the cup on the bedside table and run into the kitchen. Grabbing the pill bottles you all but sprint back to his room, presenting the two orange bottles to him. He doesn’t take them, rather he leans in and looks over them closely.

“Is that your name?” He nods to where your information is listed on the top of the label.

“Yeah, it is. I had to do it that way. Can’t request something for you so I figured this was the next best option.”

“And Wayne said it was okay?”

“Well, about that…” You set the bottles down, “I kinda forgot to tell him. But with the grief you’ve been giving him, I’m sure he won’t be too upset.”

“Whatever,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “He knows why I don’t want to go…”

You grab the cup of pills and present them to him again. “I’m sure he does. But, you really need to start these before you end up in the hospital. Or worse, the infection spreads and you get blood poisoning and die.” Eddie huffs out a small laugh, but you choose not to ponder on it and instead grab his water jug. “So, are you gonna take them or am I gonna have to call the squad to come get you by the end of the week?”

He sighs and presents a scarred hand to you, the tissue thick and uneven where it looked like some of it may have been graphed. You turn the cup over and let the pills fall into his palm, watching as he brings them to his mouth and takes a sip from the straw of his water. You didn’t ask him to, but he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue as if to show you he’s taken them, a reflex you wonder if he got from his long stay at the hospital.

As you watch him, you can’t help but look him over again. Admiring his profile, the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. You notice that his scars on his chest cover his left pec, his whole left nipple missing in the mess of healed flesh. The bumpy flesh on his sides smooth out in the middle, to his belly button, where a trail of hair disappears into the thin sheet—

“Can you put the bed back down now, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You snap back to the present, heat on your cheeks and shame in your gut when you realize you were gawking at your patient. Your patient who is sick and needs your help to take care of him. Pin needle tingles flush into a layer of sweat over your body from the guilt.

“Is there anything else you need?” You ask as the bed reaches its flattest position. Hurriedly, you grab everything you left on his bedside table and move it back to where it was next to the bed.

“Um, yeah,” Eddie’s voice strains as he stretches his right hand to reach his bedside table, fingers moving slowly in an attempt to pick up the wash rag you saw on his forehead earlier.

“Want me to run it under some cold water?” Walking around the bed, you pick the damp rag up. Your fingers brush against his, making you retract them back to your body which sends the wash rag to the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the rag. You make a beeline to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to it’s coldest setting, splashing a little over your cheeks as it runs out.

“I, uh, I don’t need the washcloth anymore,” you hear Eddie’s voice call out, softer than you’ve heard from him so far. It sparks a bit of concern in you, making you lean back to check on him. He’s pulled the blankets back up over him, his whole body turned away from you. When the TV’s volume goes up a few clicks, you just assume that his pain meds are kicking in and making him sleepy.

After turning off the water, you ask Eddie one more time if he needs anything, to which he simply shakes his head, refusing to acknowledge you anymore. You leave his door open a crack as you walk out and rush across the hall into the second bathroom. You let out a quiet shriek, running your hands over your face as you replay the way you looked at him over and over in your mind. What the hell was wrong with you? Are you that touch starved that any bit of skin makes you act like an 1800’s man who’s just seen a woman’s ankle? You need to get it together, sooner rather than later.

Maybe a shower will clear your head.

“Eddie,” you call out from across the hall. No answer.

“Eddieee,” you call again. Nothing.

You step out of the bathroom and take the few steps to the bedroom door.

“Eddie?” The sound of shuffling and a few curses make you jump back.

“Eddie, is everything okay—”

“Yes, I’m fine, what do you want?” He sounds aggravated, and you think that maybe he had actually fallen asleep and you had just woke him up.

“I’m sorry, I was just going to tell you I’m going to take a shower. I’ll let you go back to sleep.” There’s no response other than a creak from the bed, so you leave it at that.

After two days of rain, Wednesday is much clearer. The early september sun beat down on your face through the window as your teacher goes through the day’s notes. But you’re barely able to focus on the words, your mind elsewhere as you think about the lack of sleep you got the last two nights.

As if you had manifested it, your period decided to show up yesterday morning when you weren’t expecting it and you became a victim of period insomnia that night. Even worse, you almost bled through your school uniform on the way from leaving the Munson’s. Thankfully you were able to rush to the bathroom just before class started, but you only felt worse the rest of the day.

You’re not sure if you were wearing your discomfort in your features or if Eddie was just feeling merciful, but he had been fairly pleasant for you when it came to taking care of him. He even promised to let you work on fixing his hair once he was feeling better.

Well, he didn’t say yes, but maybe is good enough for you for now.

With about thirty minutes left in class, your teacher calls your name and snaps you out of your daydream

“You’re needed in the counselor's office,” she says monotonically.

“O-okay,” you stutter, gathering your things quickly and heading to the main offices.

As you walk in, the lady at the desk is on the phone, not paying you any attention and she plays with the gum in her mouth. You stand there for a few minutes waiting for her to get off the phone, but she seems to be having a personal conversation, her beehive hair tilting to the side as she puts the phone between her ear and shoulder.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when a door behind her opens. With some papers in his hand, the guy from your volunteer sign ups, Sam walks out. His brows perk up when he notices you, bright smile on display as he makes his way to you.

“Hey, I was just about to come get you,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Thought maybe you got lost on the way here.”

“N-no,” you say, “I was, um…waiting.” You glance over at the receptionist, whose eyes are glued to the man in front of you.

“Ah, I see,” he says with a nod. “Well, if you don’t mind stepping back into my office with me here.” He motions for you to follow him back to the door he came out of. You can feel the eyes of the beehive staring daggers into your back even after he closes the door behind you.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures to the chair in front of what you assume is his desk as he sits down behind it. You sit down, straightening your skirt in an attempt to get comfortable as he pulls a folder out from a drawer.

“So,” he starts, “I just wanted to, um, touch base with you on your volunteer work. More specifically, how you’re feeling with your client.”

“You mean Eddie?” You ask.

“Yes, yes, Eddie Munson. I think I told you that day that he wasn’t a very sought after client, and I’m sure by now you’re aware as to why.”

“Because of the accusations.” It’s not a question, rather a statement.

“Yes, exactly.” He leans forward in his seat. “The company that’s running the program was surprised that anyone had agreed to take him. But, I told them that a…” He pauses for a moment, subtly looking you up and down, “...very special person took Mr.Munson in without hesitation. And when I tell you they were relieved — it would be an understatement, truly. But…”

“But?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“But,” he continues, “I’m just…I just want to make sure you’re feeling…safe.”

“Safe? Like when I’m there?”

“Yes. I know he lives with his uncle so you’re not alone, but if you were to be left alone with you, would you feel safe?”

Oh, this guy has no idea.

“Absolutely,” you say without hesitation. “Eddie is wounded at best and grumpy at worst. But I can’t think of a single moment where I’ve ever felt unsafe. I’ve actually felt quite welcome there. They’re very sweet people.”

Sam nods with a satisfied smile as you talk, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Good, that’s great to hear,” he says, making a note on a paper in the folder in front of him. “I’m glad we were able to find a good fit, for the both of you it seems. Now, on the day you signed up, I did forget to have you fill out this paper here—” He slides a paper in front of you with the VisitingAngels logo on the top. “This is just asking for your basic info; name, address, a good phone number. It’s all for the volunteer company to keep on record. It must have been missing from the folder I had that day.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, pulling the chair up to the desk. Sam slides a pen over to you, and you can feel his eyes on you as you fill out the paper. You spare him a quick glance, and he flashes you a smile. He’s more handsome up close you think.

Once you’ve finished you slide the papers back to him, his finger touching yours as he takes them.

“Great, thank you,” he says, tucking the paper into the folder and closing it.

“Of course,” you say, straightening up in your chair. “Was there…anything else you needed me for?”

Sam hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Actually, yes. I, um, I think you volunteer later in the day, is that correct?”

“Yes, I’m usually at the Munson’s house by 5. Why?”

“How long would you say you’re usually there for?”

You feel beads of sweat forming in your hairline. Did someone find out you were staying overnight with Eddie? Would he get in trouble if you were? Would you get in trouble? Would they take him away as your client?”

“Um, I would—I think I leave at 7, on-on average. Yeah…I get there, make sure he eats and get him settled for bed. Sometimes we sit and talk. Y-you know, caregiver stuff.”

“I see, I see,” Sam nods. “So that means…This Friday you don’t have any plans after 7 then?”

Your head reels back. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

He laughs nervously, adjusting himself in his chair. “I, um, well, I’m asking if you’re free on Friday night, because I wanted to see if I could maybe take you to dinner?”

Your eyes dart around the office in disbelief. What is happening right now? You don’t get asked out. Tonya gets asked out by guys at the bar. The girls in your class get asked out by guys in other majors. The girl who bullied you in high school gets asked out by your crush. But not you…

“W-what?”

“Sorry if this seems sudden, but I’ve honestly been thinking about you since that day we met and…I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, closing in on himself a bit. “I just thought I would ask. But I understand if you can’t.”

Damn it.

“Well, I can’t on Friday,” you start, and the strings of your heart pull when the man in front of you deflates. “But…I could do Saturday?”

“Really? Okay, I can make that work.” Sam grabs a post-it note and writes his name and number down before handing it to you. “Here's my number, just in case. I guess I’ll pick you up—” He opens the folder again and points at where you wrote Tonya’s address on the paper, “...at your place around 7?”

You nod. “Sounds like a date.”

thank you for reading.

tagging @boomhauer bc i know you want to share your art lol

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson st #canon divergent #eddie lives #eddie munson lives #eddie munson slow burn

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knottyk · 2 years

Text

Caught in the Act

Pairings: Eddie x Henderson!Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Eddie cancels the campaign and Dustin, along with Mike and Lucas, wants to know what is so important to tear the strict Dungeon Master away from his beloved club.

Warnings: implied sexual themes, profanity, um idk let me know if i missed anything lol

edit: crying over how sweet everyone is! And my first post to reach 1k notes accckkkkk!!

The campaign that was originally set for tonight had been pushed for whatever reason and the gang had nowhere else to go. They had already let their parents know that they’ll be out late so why waste the chance for some late night exploring?

“What if we go to The Hideout. It’s a popular hang out spot now, right?” Lucas kicked a pebble from under his sneakers.

“I bet Eddie’s there. Think of it.” Dustin nodded as he tried to convince the other two. “He never moves the meetings for anything or anyone. Gives us shit for not attending and suddenly he’s not free tonight? I call bull.”

“We’ll catch him in the act. Then he won’t have anything on us next time.” Lucas agreed as his palm met Dustin’s and they chuckled in excitement.

“And what if he’s not there?” They both turned to Mike who had his hands stuffed in his pockets, shrugging.

“Then he’s not there! We’ll just come back to your place and, I don’t know, do something. Besides, I’ll need a ride home from Y/N. She’s doing some project with Nancy.”

With a half-assed back up plan, the trio set off towards the infamous pub in their Hellfire shirts. The place was littered with people both young and old.

They walked into the place with heads held high as people they recognised from school watched them tread like they owned the place. In addition to being a school night, they were also freshmen. What better way to earn the cool points by being seen at a place as intimidating as The Hideout.

“Let’s just see if he’s here and get outta here.” Mike slightly yelled over the loud music playing in the background, lungs already clouded by the nearby smoke by several lit cigarettes.

They quickly scanned the place but it didn’t take long to spot the messy mop of hair that stood out in all of Hawkins.

“Eddie! You lying son of a bitch!” Dustin yelled as they jogged toward the bar, laughing. “We got you!”

At first, Eddie was confused as to why he’s hearing the freshman’s voice at a place he never expected to but his emotion was quickly replaced with an obvious panic as he turned to address the boys without fully turning his body away from the bar.

With a tight lipped smile, he spoke. “Henderson, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed in like, what? Twenty minutes?”

He looked at his wristwatch as he fixed a few strands of hair stuck to his face and mouth, his bangs slightly stuck to his forehead with sweat.

“Aren’t we supposed to be doing the campaign?” They crossed their arms as they examine him with shit eating grins etched on their faces. They caught him.

“Well, things happen and you know… things happened.”

As Eddie somewhat explained, Dustin’s eyes linger on the pair of legs dangling over Eddie’s hips. He couldn’t see anything else as the person ducked behind Eddie’s broad back. He tried peering over but Eddie was quick to block him.

Though Dustin quickly realised that he didn’t need to see who it was to know. It was those pristine white sneakers he loathed seeing resting in the shoe racks by the front door. He’d always wanted to smear the underside of his shoes on your white ones just so it wasn’t so clean.

Though he knew you’d kill him because they were your favorite pair. The one you always wore with the stupidly coordinated outfits to school as his friends snickered at him about you being neat and presentable while he was the other way around.

The type to be recognised from a crowd of people. The type to be lined up with the likes of Nancy Wheeler and Chrissy Cunningham. The good, perfect girls of Hawkins High.

“Y/N?” He blurted out and despite the loud music, you heard him clearly. Mike and Lucas shifted their gaze between Dustin, Eddie and eventually, you.

Over Eddie’s shoulder, you waved. “Dustin! Funny seeing you here.”

Eddie finally parted with the bar and stepped to the side with his hand on his nape while you jump off from the counter, smoothing over your skirt that rode up your leg.

“What the hell, Y/N? Aren’t you supposed to be with Nancy?” Dustin was frantic.

Tonight was all about catching their strict dungeon master knee deep in his hypocritical bullshit but what he found was like stepping on a lego or cow shit. Either way, he was disgusted by the idea of whatever you and eddie were doing when they arrived or even before they arrived.

“Look, I think we’re all somewhere we’re not supposed be tonight.” You put a hand on his shoulder as you looked Mike and Lucas in the eye.

Their eyes darted everywhere else except yours. Maybe it was the fact that they know they’re not supposed to be in an adult-only place or the fact that your bra was peeking from your unbuttoned shirt that was now all scrunched up. Who knows?

“You’re not telling on me are you, Dusty?” You ask your brother who had is mouth agape.

“I mean, The Hideout is not really the place mom would be thrilled to see you in either. You and I would be in great trouble and you can kiss that free trip to Utah goodbye.” You nod slowly as you laid out the facts. “Think about it.”

You promised to be Dustin’s ride to Utah during the spring break in exchange for him covering for your ass from the many times he caught your bedroom empty and windows opened during unholy hours of the night. He didn’t question it then.

Dustin peered behind you and saw Eddie leaning on the bar where you sat earlier. His lips curved in what looked to be an apologetic smile. Upon seeing Dustin’s face, he let out a two finger salute.

Eddie had thought of the many ways he’d let the secret loose on your little brother but this was not one of the ideal scenarios. Somehow, he felt bad for the way it turned out but glad that the cat’s out of the bag.

Dustin sighs and nods.

“Good.” You take off his cap and shuffle his curly hair, earning a groan. “Be home by 10.”

“Eleven.” He bargained, sizing up to you.

Considering tonight’s events, you thought of letting him off easy.

“And lunch is on you for a month.”

“No.”

“Two months.”

“No.”

“A week.”

“Fine.”

With that, they hurried out of the bar, pushing one another to get out as fast as they could. You could hear them talk amongst themselves as they ran out.

“Holy shit, Eddie’s dating your sister.”

“Holy shit, Eddie’s dating my sister.”

“Wait, does that mean she’s the hot girlfriend Eddie was talking about.”

The gushing drowned out and you face Eddie who was sipping at his canned beer.

“We scarred him.” He chuckled. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”

“You talk about me?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, is that bad?”

You nodded as you caged him with your arms at either side of the counter.

“Looks like you got it bad, Munson.”

You catch his lips with yours, slick with a tinge of bitterness from the beer but it drowns in the sweet taste of Eddie’s soft lips. His bottom lip caught in between your teeth as he let out a groan, hands smoothing over the arch of your back.

Like no one was watching, you guide Eddie’s hands further past what is considered appropriate in a public setting.

He jerks his hand away while looking around, checking for any watchful eyes as the scene unfolded. You cup his cheek and put his hand back on the curve of your ass, skirt starting to ride up your leg once more as you spread them slightly to make way for Eddie in between.

“I have to go back on stage in five.” He whispers, hot breath fanning your face.

“Then, I guess we’d have to be quick.”

You don’t know how you’ll face your brother over breakfast tomorrow like nothing happened the night before. But you let the thoughts of tomorrow fly over your head as you were already pulling Eddie to one of the empty bathroom stalls.

masterlist

a/n: haha omg i was washing the dishes when i thought of this. when i tell you i stopped my chores to write this asap. i'd forget in a second if i didn't <3

#eddie imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x henderson!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie fluff #eddie smut #dustin henderson #dustin x sister!reader #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n

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precious-little-scoundrel · 3 months

Text

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Requested: yes…Virgin!Gale + Maureen/Gale bonding

Universe: Friends in the Crucible (pacific au)

Summary: “Get laid, Buck.” Doc Egan prescribed with his peculiar brand of deathly serious compassion, “Hell, I’ll write you a prescription for it, if it soothes your conscience, but I’m serious. Serve your jitters better than any syrette or Amphetamine.”

Warnings: all the sex! 18+.|| both tender and feral || Doc Egan being a unorthodox but loving menace, a theme of ptsd and body tremors/insomnia -poor Gale is going through it after a whole war, drug mentions, erectile disfunction, Maureen is aggressive but everything’s consensual, usage of the word “Jap”. Graphic descriptions of Gale’s virginity loss, male overstimulation and an amusing amount of thought given to Bucky’s existence during the act … im sure that won’t lead to anything when Maureen returns to base and reports to Egan about it, right? Hahaha of course not, that would be craaazy

Word count: 10k

“Buck, come on now, it’s not a prison sentence, it’s just a little time off.”

“I don’t need time off.” Gale reiterated, a panicked sort of fierceness creeping into his tone as his appeal now stretched into something longer than the usual flippant favors Egan was customarily so eager to dole out.

“Those hands suggest ya do.” John gave a not unkind glance of sympathy at the twitching fingers rattling on the armrests of Cleven’s chair.

12 rescue missions in 15 days. Flying upwards of ten hours each. He’d done worse before, but then again, that had been when he was fresh, younger, less banged up from the head hitting the cockpit wall.

“Sending me to go watch flamingos and contemplate sand or some shit isn’t gonna make me steadier.” Gale very much feared his gripes were beginning to sound like begs, “Don’t send me off like this. Don’t.”

“Petrified of flamingos?” John hummed, glancing down at his chart as if contemplating making a note of this new malady, “Maybe if your dad had taken you to a zoo once or twice as a kid you’d not be scared stiff of the prospect.”

Cleven stared back at him with the most hurt eyes John had ever seen. He balled his own fist up to remember the rightness of his point, even if he’d delivered it about as clumsily as a marriage proposal at a funeral. “The hell would you say something like that?” Buck whispered, not even angry, just utterly lost.

“Buck, I’m just sayin’ -inability to slow or be alone, it’s classic symptoms of battle fatigue.”

“I don’t wanna sit on a beach when I could be helping, I’m perfectly capable of still helping! You know it!”

“But you can’t sleep.” John circled back to where this all began, with Gale asking if there was anything to knock a fella out when 82 hours of insomnia wasn’t sufficiently exhausting.

“Give me something, you’re a doctor! Goddamnit, John!” Gale finally broke, voice raising and fists clenched.

“Surgeon, technically.” John gave him a wane smile, “And I can’t dope up an active pilot.”

“Just an active surgeon.” Gale sneered, tit for tat on the insults.

John nodded grimly but murmured, “The day Gale Cleven becomes John Egan is a day this whole operation can pack up and go home.”

“So you're being the better man,” Gale scoffed, “-sending me to watch flamingos.”

“I’m not givin’ you shit.“ he confirmed, “Unless it’s an assignment.”

“Will it keep me outta the flak asylum?”

“If you comply to all the regulations, maybe.” Egan shrugged.

“Go on?”

“Get laid, Buck.” his friend prescribed with his peculiar brand of deathly serious compassion, “Hell, I’ll write you a prescription for it, if it soothes your conscience, but I’m serious. Serve you better than any syrette or Amphetamine.”

“That’s your ultimatum?”

“No, no, my ultimatum is that you go on a little sabbatical with one of my nurses, she’ll keep an eye on you and you can make yourself useful, helping her unload heavy shit at the aid station they’re setting up at Peleliu. My recommendation is that when she comes into your room at the end of the day and drops her knickers, you lay back and think of Wyoming.”

Major Cleven had thought of a million and one ways to bribe or ally the prospective nurse to his side of the deal once he knew which unfortunate female Egan was going to pick for this deplorable detail. Calling his friend a pimp and a bastard had done little good, threatening malpractice and a hardness of heart towards Gale’s own principles -even less. So Gale figured when the time came he’d just gently turn the well meaning comfort gal away and maybe pay her off to lie that they’d done it: for his hand’s sake.

After all, if she was willing to do this, was she even a nurse or was she someone Bucky dressed up in Red Cross arm bands like some sleazy fantasy? Gale didn’t think any of the nurses he’d encountered would be willing to go along with such a sordid “assignment.” Sure, some of them were -carefree. Indulgent. Easy, as the men sometimes called them before getting a stinging cheek that proved them wrong. But they were a proud bunch and they had earned it.

Rolling a toothpick in his cheek, Buck pondered these things while sat on the bench of a Goony Bird waiting for his nurse to hop into the cargo hold with him and off they’d go to Pelilu. The situation was made worse by the suspense of who it might be and the insulting foreignness of being on a plane but not piloting. It made Gale feel an odd sort of feeling close to self pity that he hadn’t felt in ages, not since he was a kid and the nostalgia of it wrung him out of all energy. He made himself sit on that metal bench motionless as the heat index rose on the tarmac and made up a fun little game involving trying to see if he could get his hands to stop tremoring for five seconds straight.

So far he’d lost his own wager each time. He told himself if he could make it to five seconds then the nurse Bucky had sent would be a gray haired matron and this really was just a sabbatical to lift boxes and breathe ocean air and get Gale to laugh at himself.

Then Maureen Kendeigh climbed into the hold and squeezed past their cargo of medicine crates and plopped down right next to him, leg bumping his and breathing like a race horse. “I have jogged here the entire way from administration.” she wheezed, tugging at the collar of her shirt where her glistening throat was bobbing in thirst. “Sorry I’m so late, Major. Am I late?”

It could have been Bucky sat next to him: the choice of phrasing was so familiar, the damnable ability to force forgiveness for tardiness with a single smile so predictable. Gale found dread knotting his stomach at the realization it would be her, even as a warmth spread all over him at her sweet presence that had the odd effect of steadying his hands despite the panicked fuzz of his brain at her proximity.

Oh he didn’t want this. No, no, no. He’d like to think of Maureen very much apart, apart from anything but her heroism, not her wide spread stance on the bench beside him or the idea of her dropping her knickers and making him think of Wyoming. He preferred her very much not attainable in the deeper ways and very much not what he saw himself with when all this was over. Whatever she and Doc Egan had was between them and he’d held it up like a shield to keep himself in check, a boy's code of honor about not encroaching on his friend’s girl. Even if said friend didn’t have the decency to make said girl “his” girl.

But to have Maureen dished up to him on a platter by John when John must have suspected some of Gale’s appreciation for her professional merits -it was somehow worse than any dressed up floozy or the easy new intern. He’d not be able to pay Maureen off without insulting her. Or outing Egan’s intent. Maybe she didn’t know. What if Gale spilled the beans and she was as harmless as himself? What if—

“God, Major, did you sleep at all?” Maureen’s steady fingers were gripping his expressionless face and suddenly turned him towards her, one thumb swiping a tender crescent in his under eyes.

Gale’s eyes seemed to forget blinking was a thing, they grew wide and stayed wide at her inspection and the sandy wind blowing in from the tarmac stung at them as they dried out. “No,” he found his voice and it came out more winded than hers, “you’re not late.” he lied.

Once they get to the island, touchdown and unload, there’s then three hours of driving around the pitted old warzone to the aid station. There’s more foliage the more they go, less mortar pitted earth, but the increasing tropical paradise surroundings put Gale on edge. Maureen drives them to their unexplored destination as confident and recklessly as Bucky would, little surprise there. Gale can’t help glancing at her with unabashed amusement for the way she keeps her pistol propped on top of the steering wheel with one grip, facing out like a top turret for their hood, while keeping the map balanced on her thigh.

He cradles his own BAR with loose arms, ready to use it. Sure they secured the island months ago, but still, not infrequently some Jap comes out of his hiding hole, a cave, or whatever fucking tree he resides in and surrenders. Or, conversely, some of them have charged with guns blazing or sword drawn, deciding to go out and a bang of glory and take with them whichever hapless American happens to be nearby. That Emperor worship shit ain’t happening on on Gale’s watch, and so Maureen gets to drive -she didn’t have to beg like that, he was going to let her- and he shoulders the duty of keeping his eyes peeled for the next bush becoming animate and running at them, pulled pin grenade in hand.

“Some relaxation.” he jokes as their jeep lurches into another crater. If it’s not the bomb pits it’s the massive roots crawling over the smashed earth the Marine Corps call a road.

“It’s a reverse strategy!” she informs, grin wide as a shark’s and Gale could almost draw a little pencil mustache above that top lip and pretend it’s Bucky torturing him thus -hey, that might be a good mode of thought to keep everything strictly professional- “Like when nothing else works, you kick the broken thing.” Gale politely ignores the urge to argue about being broken, that’s not her point… he hopes, “You’re all shook up,” she goes on, voice raised to be heard over the rev of her driving, “and calm hasn’t worked, so why not shake you up worse?!”

He squints at her, fully aware he isn’t being chummy like she is trying to be, knowing he’s being a stick in the mud but he’s dying under the uncertainty, chafing under the pretense. Does she know? Or does she not? Five times today he’s resisted the urge to slap her chest like he would Demarco’s and ask her levelly, man to man, if she knows. “If this doesn’t work then what?” he asks anyway, sober as hell despite the comedic jostling and even Maureen’s joviality dims in the face of his dour mood.

“Then we’ll have to get real unorthodox.” she replies, allowing something close to annoyance at his attitude to seep into her own expression and Gale refuses to pull his eyes off her.

Do you know? He wants to ask.

“Stop scowling at me and watch for Japs.” she snaps at him so suddenly and so heated he genuinely spooks and turns his body back towards their horizon.

It’s worse than he thought. Worse than he imagined on the times he lost the bet with his hands and let his mind go somewhere besides a practical joke from Bucky and a gray haired spinster nurse as his companion. The aid station is on the edge of the new camp, far off enough to be genuinely secluded from both sights and smells of the navy station. It’s a tiki hut, thatched roof and swinging mesh door and lovely little veranda and palm trees and waves lapping up the back steps.

It looks like the sorta place people advertise for honeymoons and Gale stares at it with a 100 yard stare once Maureen grinds the gears to park.

“Jesus.” he knows his mouth is curling in disgust and beside him Maureen huffs in disgust with him.

She jumps out of her side of the jeep, not a shred of amusement left on her face. Gale sits and stares and listens to the roar of surf and the clinking of the cooling engine.

“Not bad.” she grunts under the burden of a crate which Gale should be lifting if he could just make his legs work and his mind obey. “But I bet it’s gonna be a bitch to keep the gnats out though, so much foliage around.”

Her hips sway like a tantalizing pendulum when she jogs up the bungalow stairs, her waist somehow accentuated by the way her arms are lifted to keep the crate hoisted on her strong shoulder and Gale has the perfect seat to watch it. How did he never notice the lines on her before she was doing hard labor? Then he recalls, she’s mostly been in flight suits around him, he’s never seen her paired down to collared shirts and belted pants. How’d he never notice the lines on that gi-

“Don’t make me drive this thing in the surf to wake you up.” her slap on his listless forearm rouses him to realize she’s back out at the jeep, standing beside him looking at him as he sits here catatonic like the mental case he’s showing symptoms of being. “And take your jacket off, you’re gonna get overheated being so formal.”

“Are you in on it?” he snaps suddenly as she grins at him over his first crate. He can’t tell if she’s mocking him or not but he’s damn tired of it.

“In on what?” Her face falls.

He can’t do it. He just can’t do it and he hates himself for being such a coward. “This.” he chooses vagueness and it tastes foreign and awful on his tongue.

“It’s a week out of the cockpit in paradise, Cleven,” Maureen’s own expression holds back no disdain for his pissy attitude, “man the hell up.”

What Maureen, Gale and five other technicians had loaded into the jeep and it’s buggy in the course of two hours, takes the mere two of them close to four to unload. And that’s even with Gale keeping a rapid pace to his work like a sweating maniac, feverishly wanting to stop thinking for once. His jacket and shirt are thrown over the chairs that are actually provided as furniture in the place and Maureen’s tie lays discarded on the accompanying desk. The rooms are bare but there’s two beds in the bedroom with crisp sheets that have only a bit of pollen dusting them and there’s a desk, as mentioned, three chairs in the main room and Maureen insists they can use crates for a table.

The back room is for the actual medical aid, and Maureen insists nothing gets moved into it until she can sanitize the whole place. So they stack the boxes in the main room and in the bedroom and when the sun gets lower they’re relieved to find there’s some dubious provisions for electricity in the place.

“I can get it to work.” Gale decides as Maureen tries flicking the light switch ten times as if to see if the bare bulb will grow a will of its own and turn on for her. It reminds him so much of Bucky’s brand of idiocy that Gale almost forgets himself and reaches out to swat her hand away from the futile flicking.

“Ok, then you do that while I keep unloading.” she insists, “Won’t be able to do anything if it’s pitch dark in here.”

So Gale drags a chair over and begins to fiddle with the wires tacked to the ceiling, risking electrocution so Maureen Kendeigh can see her way around as she tromps past him again and again in the same path with yet another crate.

He’s good with his hands. Excellent, in fact, judging by how one bulb flickers then stays steady, then another and another until the inside of the bungalow is aglow with cozy light: enough light for Maureen to appreciate his sweat soaked singlet and the way it rides up his belly when his arms are up and how it’s bright enough for her to scrub the exam room effectively when laying in a room with an insomniatic Gale Cleven gets to her at 3:00 am.

As it surely will. God! -the man is as impossible as he is beautiful, and while she doubted she’d manage it with him before, the sheer amount of fury she feels towards him right now leaves no doubt. She’ll shake him up. Like a Fuckin’ Martini. And he doesn’t have to like it, probably won’t, but they’ll both feel better after. “In on it” -he’s got the gall to ask but not the balls to spell it out, she can’t abide a quasi gentleman and so far Gale Cleven’s been nothing but the genuine article. Until now, now when he can’t accept certain human things about himself like fatigue or attraction, and he takes it out on her with a sullenness belonging to a much older man.

Maureen’s fine with that, she thinks as ogles the glowing golden skin of his sheened shoulders on one of her passes with a crate, she can take her mad out on him, too. And she’s got a lot of it. More than John Egan was ever able to lick away.

By 15:00, and some change to the second hand, Gale Cleven was still awake. Little surprise there, not to him, but even though it didn’t matter he found himself thoroughly annoyed and taking it out with a lethal glare at the vague gray ceiling, lit by a massive moon over the ocean. Wire and chairs but no curtains -an oversight about the furnishings. It wouldn’t have mattered, he knew that, and still the racket Maureen was making put his teeth on edge. It wasn’t Benny’s snoring or John’s drunken mumbling but it was a consistent *swoosh, swish* of industry that had Gale feeling a mixture of guilt and determination to keep lying here while she scrubbed.

It had not occurred to him she might’ve needed this break, too. Such as it was, effective as it was not proving. He knew she’d seen some combat in the beginning at Manila, maybe even worse than Iwo but long hours doing what she was doing now, where she was doing it, was no joke.

The urge to get up and help her was strong but then, so was the crippling fear of being around her in the dead of night and inviting any more of the bossy familiarity she’d tucked him into bed with. A magnesium capsule! She’d made him take three of the maternity horse pills and told him to calm the hell down as if he didn't have ample reason to be on edge with her laying a foot away on another bed, stripped down to her cotton slip. Of course Gale would cite war horrors if anyone asked why he couldn’t sleep but to be frank, he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t managing it these days and it had started awhile ago. Before Maureen Kendeigh glowed sweaty and luminous in the moonlight while gripping his cheeks and puckering his protesting mouth and plopping pills on his lolling tongue.

Thinking of it made his face flame with embarrassment for such a childish resistance. But god, her nursley familiarity sent a cross signal to his brain each time she helped herself to his flesh and no amount of berating himself while sweating in these rough sheets could dislodge the reaction. Closer to fifteen hundred than was remotely chivalrous, Gale threw off his sweat soaked bedding and tromped into the glow of light outside their bedroom, shuffling blearily into the little exam room. He faltered for a brief ten seconds at the doorway watching her undulating movements with sponge in hand and knees on the floor, white slip clinging like a second skin from the sweat.

He felt the sudden medical urge to lick her like the cattle back home lick at the salt block, a strange way of quenching thirst. Was ninety two hours without sleep considered genuine grounds for insanity? He felt like maybe he should be keeping a diary of these fevered thoughts to report back to John and see if he needed to get turned in. This wasn’t horniness, this was salt cravings. Yeah, yeah that’s what it was.

“You hypocrite.” he felt emboldened to tease and his voice came out rough and lower than even he expected, the disuse of laying there for ages taking a toll.

Maureen looked up like she’d been spooked herself, a slip and stall of her scrubbing, hair hanging about her face so unprofessionally he realized he’d never seen it in such…disarray. “Oh, the baby’s awake.” she grinned back and he felt an indulgence settle in his gut for her he didn’t know existed, “I see my magnesium capsules were a cure all.”

“Oh yeah, knock a horse out.” he agreed derisively.

“Your eyes are droopier.” she found a silver lining and as if reminded of the grit in them, his large fists came up and rubbed them meanly.

Like a little boy, she thought, watching him in the harsh light of the bare bulb, warm wood all around him the same color as all that sweaty skin and those skivvies hanging onto the lithest set of hips she may have ever seen. Looked as if one deep breath of that lean belly and the fabric would be goners, slipping down to the floor dramatically like a woman’s pantyhose in those unfortunate comics where that’s always occurring just when she wants to cross a busy street. Maybe if she could make him belly laugh-

She wished she knew how. She wondered if he knew how.

“Got another Sponge?” he asked and she was reminded why she liked him so much.

“Top crate, there, left, there that one.” She directed him with jerks of her chin until he was at the right one, “I’m using antiseptic.” she warned.

“I know,” he answered, dropping to his knees beside her and making use of her bucket to dunk his sponge, “smell’s been givin’ me a headache.”

Maureen’s mouth twitched at his tired grumpiness, more endearing now he was still putting effort into being near the caustic shit and the way his golden hair flopped on his forehead with his scrubbing movements. If his hips were that fluid, that rhythmic in cleaning a floor, how much more could she teach him to be—“Yeah, I’m sure it’s the anti-septic giving you a headache.” she snarked.

They ate sandwiches he’d gotten from the navy camp’s mess on the back porch, letting the sea water lap at their feet. A little stale but it was a much needed breakfast and Gale brought fresh water back, too, and a report that they were nice fellas and entirely too undressed for her to ever go see. That suited her fine, they’d be a pest if they knew a woman was up here and personally speaking she only needed one man for company, crate lifting, and doing the job well. And she rather had her heart set on it being Gale Cleven. Especially now she got to stare at him under the bright morning sun with a tropical breeze and more skin on display than at a swimsuit contest. He’d put on a singlet, as if to mark that a day had begun even if they hadn’t slept the night, but that was promptly sweat soaked and tiny nipples were pebbling under it from the breeze.

“Did they ask if a nurse came with you?” she pressed him between bites.

“Yeah.” he swallowed his bite thickly and licked at the mayo collecting at the corner of his mouth with typical precision, “And I lied.”

“Well, well,” she cooed, making him roll his eyes, “how’d that feel?”

“I have lied before.” he balked.

The look he gave her was both thunderous and remincent and she repented that line of questioning, used to distinguishing in her patients whether a wound was from wartime or stemmed from childhood. “Well who’d you say came with?” she asked.

“A technician.” he mumbled, blushing for some reason.

“Mm, someone nice and hairy and stinky-“

“Stop.” he begged.

“-not anyone they’d wanna meet.”

“I did it for you!”

“-if that makes you sleep at night, Cleven.” she humored him and like lightning, the back of his hand had flicked out and thumped her on the sternum, hard.

“Shit!” Maureen clutched the place, more in surprise than pain although he’d walloped her good and well.

“Shit!” He parroted in mortification, holding his hand like it was an offensive weapon.

“What was that for?” she laughed, “Do I remind you that much of Benny? Are you missing him that bad? Is that who you pretended was with you up here? Huh? Huh? Benny Demarco, now that’s a beauty to hide under a bushel-“

She was crowding him in on the steps and he was teetering towards falling off, too alarmed at his own outburst to trust his instincts now to shove her off without causing harm -and she knew it. She pressed her advantage and crawled over him with her teasing comments about Demarco until his long body had bowed so far away from her’s it was levitating and then toppled predictably into the surf.

“Fuck it’s cold!” he wheezed out as the embrace of the old pacific drenched him and rolled him about at her feet for a few delightful moments before he got his footing and rose, shaking his hair out of his eyes and grabbing for the steps.

“Sea bathing was in doctor Egan’s regimen.” she informed remorselessly before extending a merciful hand to help him up. He was slippery and shiny as an eel coming up and the grip of his hand was as strong as she expected. And still she found it intoxicating, the duality of him as he stood there pouting and bitchy over being cooled off. “Stay right there baby, I’ll get you a towel.” she patted his chest, right where he’d smacked hers, and went inside.

“I’m not your baby.” She heard him holler to her through the door-less porch. “I’m not your baby.” he reiterated vehemently but lower again when she came out with the towel.

“Yes you are.” she argued, “For this week you’re my baby, whether that’s a literal infant or not is your choice -and don’t start arguing, you’ve got to stop it, no one’s making you do a damn thing.” she insisted, hand raised and his mouth closed satisfyingly as a result, “You’ll be my baby. I know you already had a baby, no? Our baby? Shared her with ten other men, that’s generous of you-“

“-Ensign!-“

“-so I’m not gonna be your baby. You’ll be mine and you can find me something to be for the week.” she watched closely as recognition of her logic began to dawn and settle on him, “I could be anyone. I could be Benny Demarco, for instance. If that’s who you wanna lay next to.”

Gale didn’t speak for a long while, eyes off to the side watching the surf lap at the steps and she was still standing there, holding his unused towel. “Who do you want me to be?” he asked finally and his grave perception just about winded her in its raw honesty.

“You.” she replied honestly, “Whichever version of you made it here with me.”

“An infant -a baby.” he scoffed and she was suspicious those eyes were watery. And too delayed for it to be from the salt.

“My baby.” she replied, “Never had one before.”

“With respect ma’am, that’s Bullshit.” he argued in a fierce hiss, “I know you have, with John and -and-“

“I’ve been somebody’s,” she clarified, “but I think I’ve grown out of that. You’ll be my baby, huh? It’s not marriage, Cleven, it’s a week in paradise and hopefully some shut eye, too. So do you want me to be Benny?”

Those watery eyes let one single tear go trickling down his pink cheek alongside the rivulets of ocean water dripping from his hair and Maureen had never felt a single thing heat her up quite like it. “No,” his chuckle was thick and he sniffed, “not Benny. Maybe uh, God, I dunno, I’ve never had anyone.”

“Then we can make it up entirely.” she was pleased by the idea of not being a stand-in, although god knows she and John could sympathize more about the need for that than anyone. “We’ll be castaways.” she suggested, sitting back down on the porch now the confrontation was dwindling and in full confirmation of her suspicions, he sat again beside her without fuss.

“Marooned.” he disagreed, chin resting on his hands and a boyish tug pulling up the corner of his lips. “Something insane you did landed us here.”

“Mm, took liberties with the captain's daughter, perhaps?” she teased, daring to run a finger along those golden shoulders and collect a few salt drops. He shuddered under her but stayed put.

“I’m not playing fair maiden for you.” he retorted but his eyes were fond.

“Mm, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Maureen was still impossible and Gale felt his gut burn in a bizzare sort of drive to prove her wrong. He’d hardly ever felt this even with all the jokes from the boys, not even with all the temptations from the girls, it just hadn’t seemed something that needed proving. Every flea and salmon could do it, he never doubted when he got married he could manage it credibly enough.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones.” his voice sounded like he’d come to a decision and Maureen squinted at his profile until it clicked.

“I’ve never been married before.” she observed breezily.

“And I never planned on being married for just a week.” he replied.

“Isn’t there a film about this?” she asked, “Cary Grant gets stuck on an island and he marries his castaway but then they get rescued and there’s a first wife?”

“Yeah, I think so, actually.” he thumbed at his bottom lip in contemplation and Maureen found it endlessly distracting, along with the bird song and the ocean crash and the sunshine.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones.” she agreed then, settling back on her elbows to stare up at the sun and let it add a few freckles, “And when it’s over and you’re rescued, I’ll be the better woman and let Our Baby have you.”

“You’ll always be the best of women, Maureen.” he sounded like the admittance took every fiber of his resolve to say, but she’d heard it before in his voice weeks ago when she was patching him up.

If a tear slipped out the corner of her shut eyes and down a sun warmed cheek, she wasn’t going to make a deal of it, not until she felt his finger catch it tenderly before it dropped from her jaw and rolled it back up.

She felt her lip wobble traitorously and perhaps there were more tears planning to follow and betray her but the shivering shock of his full lips, pressed to her bare shoulder, stemmed the flood. Maureen held her breath and kept her eyelids sealed, an orange glow of sunshine behind them as all her senses attuned to the drag of his caresses up to the juncture of her shoulder, the press of his body next to her on the porch boards, the suspenseful absence of his hands. They were soft as marshmallows, those lips, and a stray tip of his tongue caught her clavicle as he worked his way up a path that almost seemed premeditated, as if he’d thought of doing this a million times but held back. Now he allowed himself and the assured intimacy of his mouth made her body heat soar almost beyond her endurance as he crept up her throat and onto her cheek.

A kitten lick to that tear track down her cheek and Maureen was whimpering from something else entirely, breaking ranks and turning her head to gaze at him, nearly stunned by how close he was, how alive, how beautiful, how blue. There were his hands now, one propped beneath her shoulder, the other cupping her cheek. Her lips were tingling with anticipation by the time he’d lowered his face far enough and brushed her mouth with his.

Maybe he’d done his fair share of kissing the girls back home goodbye, or maybe it was a talent given along with this impossible lips, or perhaps she’d wanted it so long that the final having of it sent Maureen spiraling with something oddly like obsession.

Kissing was enough for the longest time, the shore sounds and the squawking of ocean birds and the feel of Gale Cleven laying more and more atop her as his tongue met hers and danced. She scratched the back of that tanned neck like she dreamed of doing a dozen times, little scritches to his hairline that had him sagging against her kisses to the point of crushing.

She allowed herself the liberty of running her hands along his lean sides, taking in the graceful taper of his waist, the dip of his back, the sopping wet waistband of his briefs. She wondered if this is how men feel with a young girl, when there’s so much loveliness one wants to maul it and mark it and watch it respond. Anything to make him moan again into her mouth, wrenched and helpless and appreciative of her all at once, anything for him to hump his hips against her thigh in a manner so mindless he didn’t seem himself at all.

When he pulled away, dazed and winded from his own exertions, he seemed to have left behind all his inhibitions, stark need written on his face and only some doubt of what he was allowed yet remaining. “Are we gonna?-“ he trailed off, raspy voiced and trembling with suspense.

“Going to what?” she couldn’t abide it any longer, his demureness, “Say your mind, Cleven.”

“Do it.” he let out with a wince.

“Well I don’t know, Mr. Jones, you tell me. Are we gonna?”

Gale huffed and threw his head back, trying to regain some sense of mind, lip savagely pulled between his teeth. “Yeah. We are.” he decided.

“Then finish your sandwich.” she patted his waist and pushed him off.

“I can’t!” he begged with a groan from where he’d spilled out on the porch like a boneless dummy. “Not now.”

“You’re gonna need it, the water too, trust me on this.”

“Are we gonna -make love? Or go for a forced march?” he protested but lifted the canteen to his lips anyways when she gave him a look and proceeded to drink it dry.

“How would you know the difference?” she teased and he had the good humor to roll his eyes. If all went according to Egan’s plan, they oughta hibernate for twelve hours of sleep afterwards and she wanted him hydrated and ready for that. Maureen had a plan of her own, which certainly might lead to such a sleep, but it also involved not getting off that boy for love of God or money until he was as useless as a wet rag and the impertinent gnawing between her own legs was replaced by a good ache.

Cleven was staring at his sandwich remorsefully, “I can’t get this down, Maureen.” he declared with sudden finality and then, without preamble he threw it into the sea. “C’mon, Mrs Jones.” he held out his hand for her as he stood up, something close to an excited grin taking over his face.

He was so confident now, having come to a decision, and Maureen found herself naturally bending to his direction, placing her hand in his large palm and allowing him to haul her to her feet as gently as a dance partner. “We’ve got a bed.” she reminded blissfully into another kiss, anchored to his face by the persistent hands snarled lovingly into her salt tousled curls: this hair Maureen, this hair drove me mad.

“And we’re gonna use it.” he agreed, walking her backwards up the porch until he feet were skidding over the threshold, his tongue still sucking her own.

She stopped him there with a hand to the willowy plane of his belly, a regulated, principled woman to the last, and snapped the still soaked waistband of his drawers. “Off, you’ll make the sheets wet and sandy.”

Their sweat would accomplish dampening them enough in this muggy heat, they didn’t need sand and ocean water to boot. Maureen ducked beneath his arm and went back out to grab the discarded towel.

“I don’t want a trail of drips on our clean floor.”

Gale smiled softly at the usage of “our” -it felt right somehow, to share things with her. They’d been at it for some time, it came naturally like it had with Bucky and the few other boys who he knew would be something special and unlike anything else after this. It was a little bittersweet to know he was living the best days of his life, right here and now, enviable, irretrievable moments of raw connection slipping away with each drip, drip, drip onto the threshold. It was a heartache in the making and it was a spur for the moment. Back home they’d never understand, and any old observer would see nothing unique, but Gale could allow himself the rightness of sharing just one more thing. Why not cement it fully, irrevocably, as the closest brush he’d ever come to with another soul- he’d asked himself the same with Bucky, knew it was already an established fact.

Maureen’s lips were warm where they pressed to his back, the space between his shoulders, towel held to his waist. “You’re not shy of me, are ya, baby?” she whispered in his ear, thumbing at the still worn briefs.

He could feel himself this past hour hardening and softening, so many times in the space of so many minutes he was dizzy with it, the way his brain would have the upper hand and then, suddenly no, it all rushed south. Which now left shyness as the only real excuse for the way he burned and shrank and burned and shrank in turn at each of her touches.

“You gonna give me the towel?” he asked instead.

“Once it’s safe to do so.” she replied primly, in her familiar nursing voice, and he hated the shudder that tore through him. She stepped under his arm again, around him and into the house, and stood in the shade of the it with the towel spread invitingly, tauntingly. A whole yard and a half between then and she’d decreed no drips past the threshold. Gale’s cheeks burned as did his eyes, smarting with brimming tears from an odd frustration he’d only ever felt over a botched mission, an anger at not being able to bomb his target and make it worthwhile, a petty frustration he always felt before the cold rage of lost men fully registered.

Futile tears: Gale yanked the skivvies down and stepped out of them efficiently.

Maureen wasn’t smiling at him from the shade anymore, not even a smirk, she looked hungry. She looked like Bucky, taking in “a view.” Gale didn’t know ladies ticked that way -or maybe they didn’t, maybe only Maureen did. The blush in his cheeks ran down his chest and spilled onto his belly and his fists clenched without thought.

“When the man of the house,” Maureen was reciting some inane pamphlet she no doubt did not heed or else they’d never be here, “respects the whims of the lady in small matters, he will find the lady more submissive to issues of larger stake such a-“

Gale made a dash at her, to shut her up, and she fled from him to the bedroom, feet smacking on the hardwood and cotton slip fluttering up her thighs -his towel with her.

“I want you bare.” he told her when he had her, struggling in his arms before the bed, a lush friction where he pressed tightly behind her.

“Then sit,” she sounded genuinely breathy, trapped to him and he had never heard her like that before, it made him want to hold fast, “and I’ll make your dreams come true.”

It was just a slip, no garters and no braisere or girdle, yet still Gale sat himself on the bed and Maureen bit her cheek to keep from laughing at the modest way he deposited the towel on his lap, covering what she’d been eyeing and thanking her luck for. A cock as pretty as his face -now if she could just make it stand up fully.

“You ready?” she deferred to him as she stood there before the bed, being looked on with all the reverence and trepidation of a goddess by this seated acolyte.

“Please,” he nodded furiously, “please show me.”

It felt a little wrong to expose oneself in front of such an angelic being, curtainless windows throwing in the sun on him all golden and untouched, white scratchy sheets and white draped towel making it a bower of innocence for a brief moment. It also felt right, to throw off everything but what they’d been born with. Off went rank, obligations and expectations, as easily as dragging the slip over her head.

She tossed the article of clothing behind her for good measure -and dramatic effect- then noted with satisfaction the bleary eyed comprehension of her charms from Gale Cleven where he sat with his mouth hung so slack he was liable to drool.

“Incredible.” he muttered, husky and a little slurred, his hand raising without his own volition to beckon her closer, a plea, command.

Maureen swayed on her feet, nearer and nearer until she was standing above him, between his parted legs and she shuddered as he laid that broad palm on her hip and dragged it up her side in an admiring swath, thumbing at her belly and catching her ribs in his hold.

“Those flight suits of yours, they don’t…they don’t let show the half of it.” Gale declared, mesmerized, face hovering closer and closer until his lips were pressing against her flesh, right under her sternum, his forehead pressed to the underside of one pendulous breast, nuzzling as he became aware of that, bunting like a calf at her breast with his face, gone silly with access.

“Whadda ya think?” she giggled, the silliness of Gale Cleven gone stupid over making yams jiggle being the exact sort of thing that made life worth living, and being a woman exquisitely satisfying.

“They’re so goddamn soft.” he moaned around a bit of the underside, still hadn’t worked his way to a nipple. He seemed too preoccupied with their give and bounce to make a more calculated use of them. Maybe if men hadn’t been told what to do with them, they’d do what Gale Cleven was doing and rub their face against them and let them rest on their foreheads. There was a charm to this ignorance as he licked the salty sweat from their undersides with a surprisingly brave tongue.

The clumsy misuse was oddly effective for Maureen, what Gale lacked in skill he made up for in unstudied appreciation and nothing got her quite so ready as being appreciated to the point of foolishness. Her first conquest had been a boy at school who hadn’t minded tripping in his track shoes, day after day, to try to catch up to her on her bicycle, just to give her a flower or trinket. He was laughed at for his devotion until he broke the school track record next year, and Maureen was sure to remind him of her role in his success. They’d soon found a mutually beneficial reward system and Maureen had adopted that attitude as a maxim for the future, her dates and conquests may have been many but each of them in their own way had been appreciative -or else she was jumping out the window, damn the twelve foot drop out the dormitory.

No one, however, had looked quite so gifted by her mere existence as Gale Cleven did while he clutched at her hips and smushed her flesh between his hands like it were some fine dough and he was an artisan.

Discreetly, and it was easy to be so with his face buried in her bosoms, Maureen glanced between them at the tool she had such hopes for and found it, unsurprisingly, twitching and dribbling against his thigh, half hard but flapping about like a fish on dry land, the discarded towel no match for its movement. He’d need a hand, literally and metaphorically, and as she raked her nails through his blond curls and directed his slick mouth to a nipple, she felt him sag even further into her hold. Maureen weighed her next step carefully, trying to tamp down her own wants. She’d need to be sure but slow, careful not to spook him, or antagonize or embarrass.

She wondered if he even realized the same banged-up-head condition that sent him out here was most likely responsible for the jitters that kept him flopping. She wasn’t so conceited as to assume he’d not bedded a woman yet out of mere dysfunction, Cleven was a man of principle and strict notions regarding how the world should be, and he wasn’t one to build those notions on passing medical conditions.

“You like ‘em?” Maureen teased him, shocked at how hoarse her own voice had gone in the interim.

“Gonna make a home in here.” he mumbled in the affirmative, slack grin molded to the valley between them, blue eyes wide as the skies outside peering up at her.

“Got a job for you, baby.” she murmured, thumbing at the scar on his cheek.

“What’s that Mrs. Jones?” his voice alone made her mad with need, as did the saucy turn of his mouth so wonderfully foreign she didn’t know how she’d control herself until he was ready.

“Need you to lick a little landing strip, right here.” she ran her finger along the somewhat tacky skin between her breasts, sweat and his sloppy kisses having partway done the job already.

“What for?” Gale asked, hushed and curious.

“You’ll see soon enough.” she recalled how effective her nursing voice had been on him, and pulled it out now it seemed beneficial.

She had been right, with only a hesitant spark of aggravated defiance, Gale dipped his head and stuck out that pink tongue, lapping a swath up between her breasts as directed, flaming eyes locked on hers as she shivered from the breeze on spit slicked flesh.

“Again.” she told him, and his hands came up to hold her breasts apart as he did it again, and again and once more under his own direction until it was shiny and messy and his nose was gleaming, too.

“What’s it for?” He demanded once more, pink cheeked and swallowing hard as his mouth had dried out from his efforts.

“I told you, silly,” she replied casually, “it’s a landing strip.” and with as little fuss as possible she got to her knees before he’d registered the absence of her standing above him. “Gale, let go of the damned towel.”

She held in a laugh of delight at the tortured color he had grown to, veins running like so much ivy up and down him and a vibrant pink tip that matched his lips. Maureen wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look him in the face again without thinking of this drizzling little pink mushroom.

“You oughta count your blessings, Gale Cleven, it was a close call, my coming along at all.” she informed him soberly while his mind visibly vacated his body at the repeated sighting of his sputtering cock emerging from between the pillowy press of her breasts, “It was pretty touch and go there for a bit, I was quite sure in fact, that Bucky was gonna help himself to this assignment.”

“Maureen!” Gale thundered, except his usual imposing ire was much diluted by his quivering belly and hoarse voice.

“What?” she brushed off his scandalized displeasure with a grin, feeling cocky herself as he hadn’t flagged on her in minutes and was beginning to gush in earnest, “Bucky loves the beach.”

“Sure, Maureen.”

“In the end he decided I had what it takes.” she went on conversationally, ignoring the inhuman sounds that came out of him when she casually spit on his tip, the better to work her lips around him, “These.” she clarified, pressing her breasts to his thighs as she wrapped her mouth around him and sucked.

“Fuck, hell, Maureen! Sorry, sorry, oh fuck!” -not even Gale Cleven had expected his hips to fly up that hard and fast, knocking on the back of her throat.

She laid her hands on his squirmy hips and did her best impression of a Listerine gargle round his tip, which sent a shudder through him so strong she thought he might’ve climaxed already.

“Maureen, Maureen come on, get up here, please.” now he yanked at her hair, desperate for once and that was a pleasure to hear.

“What baby?” she pulled off him.

“Gotta kiss you.” he told her firmly, and hauled her bodily up by her armpits, rolling her under him in the bed.

Kisses -sure, Gale, kisses.

He was moaning atop her, wiry and flexing his hips against her, wriggling to get between her thighs and she let him, hungry and expectant when he slotted easily in place. He pressed his lips to hers ardently, then reared back in shock at the taste of his own precum in her mouth and on her lips.

“Salty.” he whispered as if to himself before licking his lips and going back for more. “What do I need’to do?” he whispered urgently against her mouth as she rocked against him and he rocked back until they’d frustrated each other thoroughly with mere caresses.

“Put it in, my baby.” she whispered back.

“First though, don’t I need to-to do- something? Something first?” he could barely think straight but he’d heard enough talk about this, about gentlemen and the necessity of some form of chivalrous preparation. The way discipline and intuition set apart an average pilot from an excellent one. Bucky had talked a lot about getting girls ready, making them squirm, revving them up, for all his apparent disinterest during the topic, Gale had been listening.

“You’ve done it already, Mr. Jones.” she giggled, reaching between them to drag him more firmly through the wanton swamp he’d made of her. “I’m ready, I’m so ready.”

“Oh fuck, s’wet.” he mumbled the obvious before willingly letting her guide him in, his body following her tug like his cock were a leash.

“Jesus,— Gale!” Maureen choked as he bottomed out in a sudden plunge, shocked at the stretch despite the gauging of his size. “You’re so deep, oh baby you’re a big one aren't ya.”

“You ok?” he whimpered, shuddering on top of her again and again at the incomparable feeling of being inside another’s body.

“Oh yeah, yeah I’m fine,” she gasped, “Hurts so good, you can move, baby.”

“You’re so warm.” he sounded close to worshipful he was so drunk off her, and Maureen spared a moment to smirk at the fate of man: come tearing their way out of a woman to begin their lives only to spend the rest of it trying to and needing to get back in.

He did try to move, she’d give him that. And while Maureen was more than half expecting it, still, it was mildly comical to see the confusion flash across his blissful face right as the buildup was snatched from him and he was suddenly shaking into the real event before he knew it, betrayed and euphoric all at once. The muscles in his belly and back and neck seized and his hips lunged in a series of uncoordinated pumps and she could read the panic in his eyes right before they rolled back -a begrudging admittance that this was nothing at all like the steady predictability of his hand.

“That’s it baby, that’s my baby, feel nice, huh?”

Gale didn’t answer her, too occupied whimpering with a taut throat and jaw clenched so tight he could snap a hinge like that. He was shaking worse than before when the spasms subsided and the tiniest pressure to his sweat slicked neck had him buckling to lay pressed against her, half senseless from the force of his release.

Maureen had always loved this part of sex, the pliable, bewildered, smushed man atop her like she’d sucked his soul out, when he’d rendered it up to her so willingly, so desperately, forcefully even, chasing his own eventual weakness. Long limbs aligning on top of hers, the hot pants of winded breath against her breasts, the hands listlessly holding on wherever that had last tried to grip and control her. The view from above with Gale Cleven was something additional, beautiful and glistening with bronzed swaths of sun exposed skin and the pale whites of his thighs and ass making a perfect little outline of absent shorts, his golden hair tousled beyond salvaging and that luscious mouth, drooling like a babe’s.

“So this is what Bucky’s been talkin’ about.” he mumbled into her breast, cheek smashed and enunciation shot to hell.

Maureen laughed in disbelief, “Thinking of him even now? Really, he’s going to be impossible if we tell him.”

“Just sayin’, now I know.” he defended, lazily rubbing his partly softened cock inside her with a shimmy of his hips that was quickly followed by an overly sensitive mewl.

“You don’t know anything, Angel boy.” she insisted and Gale raised his head at that, sour that she’d still contradict him after thirty seconds of vigorous pumping. “Let me see your hands.”

He had some trouble recalling where he put them but eventually he found them under her hips and withdrew them from their warm shelter to present them, warily. “Well, damn.” he muttered to himself, somewhat shocked by just how badly the shakes had worsened. “Looks like that treatment backfired.”

“More of a dose dependent case, I’d say.” Maureen corrected and circled each wrist with her hands and brought them up to her lips to kiss.

Gale’s face smoothed at her softness and a shy smile lit up his bleary eyes while she felt a twitch of his spent cock deep inside her, swishing about the mess he’d made like a dog’s tail after getting pats. “You have the most beautiful hands.” she informed him earnestly and balls deep inside her she watched as one single innocuous compliment sent him scarlet with a blush. “And they’ll be yours again soon.” she promised.

His gentle expression and bright red cheeks crumpled rather suddenly and before either of them seemed to expect it, fat teardrops had escaped the blue of his eyes and rolled down the crimson flesh of his face.

“Goddamnit.” he cursed hoarsely, in an absolute rage at himself, regaining his hands from her grip insistently to bring them up to his own face, hiding from her behind harsh fists that rubbed at his wet eyes like he could grind the grief and weariness out between his knuckles.

Unbalanced as he was without hands to support him, and legs gone jellied from his fast fading pleasure, Maureen chose to capitalize on it as a nurse would a brief state of insensibility to move a patient to a cleaner cot. Remorselessly she pressed at his shoulder and lifted their still joined hips until he tipped over, rolling onto his back beneath her. “We’ll have none of that.” she told him with loving adamance from her new perch, prying his hands away and pressing them to the sheets beside his head. “The hiding, I mean.” she clarified and he looked all of hardly past twenty laying there with wobbly lips and wet eyes unobscured, “I’m a very great proponent of crying,” she went on conversationally which confused him more but kept him too preoccupied to stifle his tears, “De-sanguination is still a highly esteemed practice, you know, it means to drain the body. One type of draining often triggers the other.”

“You gonna start bleeding me?” he asked wryly.

“Oh, maybe, you’d look so pretty all streaked up.” she teased and ran a sharp thumbnail over his pinned wrist.

Well, that got him hard again. Fascinating.

“You know what’s got your hands like this-“ she whispered softly, “-probably the same reason you flop, too.”

“Huh.”

“Pretty common.” she assured.

“Quit tellin’ me I’m common.” He growled, tickling her sides and she grabbed his hands, pinning them again playfully.

“Nothing common about you, sweet baby.” she swore, leaning down to kiss him and enjoying the way he met her strongly, surely, “Gale, can I move?” she asked, half strangled by the taut string of need coiled in her belly, tugged to madness by the bulk of him still resting limply inside.

“Move?” he was perplexed.

“I’m going to die if I don’t get some friction.” she whispered, somehow shy to admit that in the face of his innocent bewilderment, “God -please tell me someone has informed you women finish, too?”

“Bucky says they clamp up so tight you can’t help but blow.” Gale recited dutifully, “Which is what just happened, right?”

Maureen grinned wide and wicked before dragging her hips up till he was barely in, then plopping down into the cradle of his hips, making him let out a “oomph.”

“Maureen?” he questioned, half knowing already he had been mistaken but hell, to go again? “Maureen- I’ll die if we go again.”

“What a way to go.” she muttered, her pace atop him increasing as did the tortured gasps tumbling from his lips. His spunk was making terribly wet, lewdly sloppy sounds of suction each time she slammed down on his cock and the visual of her exerting herself on top of him was something so blatant and jiggly he could hardly endure the visual feast of it.

“Shit, shit I can’t-“ he growled while his trembling hands latched onto her hips in a grip that was anything but dissuading. “Maureen.” he begged her for…he knew not what.

“Come on Mr. Jones,” she clasped her hands around his face and aligned their noses, rubbing like a kiss with each movement of her lower body, “you’re not one to leave your missus needy, I know you’re not. Not when you’ve got such pretty hands-“

-a shudder from him.

“and a clever tongue-“

-a whine from him that sounded close to a wounded dog’s it was so lasting.

“-or a tool this capable.”

“Maureen.” he groaned.

“Baby, my baby.” she begged, “You’ve got what I need, come on, take me apart.”

Like he trusted himself for the first time since they began this endeavor, she felt his body bow up beneath her, his arm flexing strongly across her hips, his legs braced beneath her and a heavy hand clutching her neck, then he was driving up into her with a wild abandon she only ever hoped was simmering beneath that cool exterior. When she finished he hadn’t stopped, and Maureen found herself crying out like a feral thing into the hollow of his clavicle as the brutal pummeling went on, satisfaction drug out of her over and over in harsh ruts.

“That more like it?” he panted the harsher he grew, a hand around her jaw pushing her face away from his so he might see the damage he was doing.

“Yes, yes oh baby, yes!” she swore through clenched teeth, it had been too long and each blissful peak only aggravated her further, made her hungrier, that and the fact he was so proportioned as to be a constant delight just shy of pain, “Hell Gale, do ya hear us?” she gloated, propping herself back on his thighs to watch the shiny pink of him flash in and out of her wet sheath.

Mesmerized, Gale didn’t reply, but he dragged a hand up her belly and felt for the way it tensed at each intrusion, the span of his fingers an incredible thing across her skin. “Can’t believe you can take it, easy as that.” he marveled, his thumb straying and pulling apart her petals the better to watch.

“Thumb it right there.” she directed gently, reaching down to move his calloused finger over her bud, right above where he split her apart, “That’s it, ya feel that too, huh?”

“Fuck you’re tight.” his voice cracked and his eyes shot wide again.

“Are you -?”

“Maybe.” there was a wobble of blissed uncertainty in his voice until she stopped her movements and he let out a sob before he could catch it. “Maureen, please.”

“Please what, baby?” she was chuckling at him, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead, “I let you-“ he pleaded, still thinking things worked that way, “-now I need, please Maureen...”

“Oh you can.” she assured and his face lightened but his eyes stayed wary, “But just know, I won’t be stopping.”

“What?”

“You remember how that feels, don’t ya baby?” she reminded, gently pushing him to lie back and beginning their movements anew, “So good you can’t stand it, so messy and easy for me, so tender and much for you?”

“Jesus.” he wheezed, his lean belly caving in with his heavy pants, but she felt him throbbing inside her and his pupils were large as saucers, “You’re as mean as Bucky.” he whined, voice gone high in panicked pleasure.

“Thank you, but really I’m not.” she laughed, gently thumbing away an errant tear that rolled down his cheek. “Not quite.”

“Maureen, please, please you’re too pretty!” he begged nonsensically even as his hips began to snap into hers, invigorated and forceful.

“Hold it Gale, try to hold it.” Maureen gasped, staring down at the prettiest face she’d ever seen as his brow began to furrow, “Or don’t, all the same to me.”

“I’m gonna flip you.” he swore and a few seconds of inaction passed, marked by the slam of her hips down onto his, and she thought he didn’t mean it until she gave him a daring look and suddenly she was careening backwards, head jolting against the sheets and body laid out firmly beneath him.

“Goddamn.” she swore at the way he hadn’t dislodged an inch during the whole maneuver, suddenly pressed just as deeply as before, his hips working like a piston and his hands tight and strong on her neck. “Goddamn baby. Oh goddamn that’s good.”

“S’good?” he begged her to repeat, some dizzying natural force propelling him harder and faster and needier.

“You’re so good.” she was adamant as she hung about his neck and locked her ankles in the small of his back. “You’re so good I’m - I’m -gonna-“

“What was that about holdin’ it?” he hissed, smile cocky and smug.

“Bull ain’t out of the gate yet Cleven,” she cautioned but her hips had begun to lift of their own accord, a tremble taking hold of her, “But I’m close, I’m, i'm real cl- oh God!”

“Come on sweet Maureen, wanna make ya -wanna do it for ya. Give ya what you need, Mrs Jones.” Gale’s hoarse and sweet nothings poured hot and breathy in her ear and Maureen found herself locked and gripping him before she knew it, moaning into his neck as he moved in and out, in and out as she’d only ever dreamed of.

When she cracked her dazzled eyes open again he was panting above her, the clink of his dog tags gently bumping her chin with each sway deeper, lashes batting in a golden flutter as he too began to lose himself, slower, more drawn out and yet every bit as desperate as the first time.

“Look at me baby, look at me when ya do.” she pleaded, gently gripping his chin as his mouth fell open in a series of little noises of effort that went straight to her belly grown hot and molten with the feeling of him spurting inside.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh,” Gale was working atop her in pained delight, lips so smeared and face so sweaty he looked like he might melt at any minute, “thank you, oh fuck, thank you, sweet Maureen.” he chanted low and dreamy, again and again until he drove in once more and stayed.

Those clear blue eyes fagged in an exhausted ecstasy, his head dropping impossibly further with each ragged pant until his face was barely hovering over her breasts, neck bent and forhead slowly pressing into the swell of them. His forearms gave out and those hands of his stayed trapped beneath her shoulder blades.

“Sleep Angel baby,” Maureen coaxed, hand cradling the back of his dear head to her breasts, feeling a low lazy peace settle over her at the feel of his dead weight plugging her up and the lovely wringing out she’d just endured, “let’s just sleep, dear boy.”

Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

MOTA taglist, I only have one so please ignore if this is not the universe you signed up for. 🤓 :

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#masters of the air #mota #mota fanfic #mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #the pacific #friends in the crucible #mota smut #gale cleven x oc #gale cleven #gale cleven x john egan #hints of at least #Gale x Maureen #Gale Cleven fanfic #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler imagine

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 7 months

Note

o.k I am a fan of bruce wayne/batman, so i would like you to write where bruce wayne has a short-size bossy assistant, reader who knew about his batman vigilante secret and he has a secret crush on him. She teased him, one day wearing a short skirt in a hot summer, made him want to bang her against the office table

The Proposal

So estastic to finally have a night off work, I enthusiastically hum while the evening news plays low in the background as I put the finishing touches on my look. Running my fingers through my long, soft, dark tresses, I twist left and right to asses my sultry outfit through the body length mirror on the wall of my bedroom. I do one spin, then another, smirking at the way my mini skirt barely covers my plump chocolate rear.

I cannot believe Bruce is actually gonna let me outta his sight for more than 2 seconds. It's a God damn miracle and I plan on shakin my ass with my girls all night while sippin the fruitiest dranks I can buy. That is till I hear my phone vibrate and beep from my vanity beside me, notifying me of an incoming text. Hmm.. Need I guess who the fuck that is? I roll my eyes as I grab my phone and see a text from Bruce Wayne tellin, not askin, me to come do his bidding.

Bruce: Hey, honey. Come by the office round 10 tonight and drop of the proposal we've been working on.

Seriously? It was my first night off in 2 weeks and here's comes the infamous Batman, swoopin in to destroy my plans. So, his sexy ass refuses to fuck me and release the tension from years of workin under him but not letting me actually be under him- yet commands I wait on him hand and foot.

My eyes almost tear up from the immediate disappointment and frustration I feel. Not being dicked down in over a year was making my need for a good fuck damn near animalistic. The concept of a fun evening with the possibility of gettin some dick, since Bruce's fine ass ignored each and every one of my filthy advances, is now completely ruined; makes me have to take a deep breath before I pick up my glitter encased cellphone.

Me: Whyyyy? This is the only night I have off for like another couple of weeks and I have plans. Can't you reschedule?

His response back is lighting fast and I can't help but give a small giggle as I imagine his sexy stern ass all frowned up, nostrils flaring at the prospect of me not givin in to his demands instantly. Bruce isn't the kinda man that likes to be told no. Plus, the proposal we'd recently been working on was imperative to the deal he was currently trying to close. Still, I wouldn't be me if I didn't turn into a full blown brat with him for impeding my plans.

Bruce: Late night meeting, no cannot reschedule. Also, thought you said you were staying home tonight..

Me: Omfg Bruce. My girls begged me to go out tonight so I changed my mind! Didn't know I had to goddamn call and let you know.

Jesus did this man have to always interrogate me on every aspect of my life? He knows everything about me- though it was fair to say I knew him almost as well as Alfred. And it was kinda exciting to secretly know about his extracurricular activities, even if that had less to do with any honesty on his part and more to do with my snoopy ass overhearing a heated conversation between him and his long time friend about hanging up the the towel.

Bruce: Well now you know, sweetheart. What time will you be here?

Condescending bastard! He really never has a doubt that he can bend me to his every whim and normally he fucking can but it's time to get a rile outta him.

Me: Well if I gotta cancel my plans to get some fuckin dick tonight then I think I'll take my sweet fuckin time!

His response isn't as quick this time but it's short enough to know I ticked him off. Serves him right, his 'I can't have you but nobody else can' attitude was tiring.

Bruce: You have 15 minutes.

I roll my eyes at his attempt to scare me as I pull up the Uber app and tap in his office's address. Before I can confirm I hear a firm knock on my apartments front door and Alfred's voice speaking loudly from the other side.

"Ms. y/l/n, Mr. Wayne has sent me to come get you. I've recently been updated that he's in no mood to be kept waiting."

Uh oh, perhaps I should've thought this through. I'm not sure how mad he is or what he'll say when he sees me and now I'm directly and knowingly heading into to the lions cage.

"Coming!" I yell back, grabbing the file from drawer and heading for the door.

30 mins later

I exit the elevator and quickly rush to the where Bruce waits for me, catching a glimpse of my reflection through the glass walls of the other conference rooms. I wish I had time to change the skimpy outfit adorning my frame, doing nothing to contain my juicy ass cheeks as I lightly jog to the room where the meetings being held.

I don't bother knocking, quickly entering the room silently. Walking up behind Bruce sitting like a king at the end of the table as he talks on his cellphone, leaning back lazily in his chair with spread legs. His hips flex in his crisp midnight blue suit as he readjusts himself in his seat. The hefty bulge between his legs draws my eyes for a hot second as he spins slowly in his chair to look at me.

It's as if in an instant he's hungry, eyes sharply roving over every inch of me as he licks his lips sensually. He openly stares at the way my mini skirt barely covers my bottom, how my sheer top does nothing to hide my puckered nipples. The loud expletive he groans out as he eyefucks me goes straight to my empty core, has my abandoned, untouched little hole fluttering as I start to get wet.

"Nah I'm good, stomache ache. Let them know who you're here for when you arrive and someone will let you up. We can go over the proposal and see if you agree to the terms."

Bruce hangs up and sets his phone on the long light brown table that stretches across the room as he looks at me slowly from head to toe; wide dark brown eyes that linger at my plump tits and curvy hips. His mouth open and closes a few times, his shoulders now tense as hell as he sits stiff in his seat and stares at my outfit.

"You really are a fuckin brat, you know that? Did I not fuckin tell you to be here in 15?" He snarls at me, quickly standing to grab the file from between my fingers and toss it next to his phone.

The aggressive action has me swiftly backing up, not being able to take more than few steps before my back hits the wall. Absolutely shocked at the way he stalks towards me, arm quickly stretching out to grip my throat. One of his thick eyebrows remain raised as he waits for me to respond.

"I'm sor- sorry, sir. Traffic-" I stutter out, voice low.

"Yeah the fuck right, dont gimme that bullshit. We both know you think you can say and do whatever the fuck you want with me and I'm not into that, sweetheart. Unless you count me enjoyin punishing your pretty ass for it." He tells me, leaning so close that the tips of our noses almost touch.

My heart pounds as his hand squeezes a bit firmer at my neck, the other smoothing down the side of my tits and torso to my hips and thick brown thighs. The bulky protrusion between his legs presses against my center, makin me weakly grasp at his suit jacket as I lewdly hump at him.

"You look so damn gorgeous rubbing against me like this. Almost distracts me from the fact that you left your house dressed like a fuckin whore."

The mean words and sharp smack to the inside of my thigh makes me yelp his name pathetically; has me spreading my legs as I try to fuck him through his clothing, already so damn close to beggin him to touch me. The sting of the slap is so welcoming, has my eyes and pussy simultaneously getting wet.

"Look at you, tiny little fuckin skirt.. Bet you woulda showed off all my fuckin curves tonight huh? Would done more than that. What didcha say earlier? You had plans to get some dick tonight?" He asks me, pressing me closer between him and the wall.

Bruce smells so fuckin good, the clean smell of a fresh shower and his Burberry cologne mixing deliciously. That plus the shock of his abrasive approach quickly culminates into wanton need. I can't care that I'm already rendered speechless, that I can only gasp for air like a fish outta water at his filthy words.

"You sure fuckin do. But now you wanna be quiet, cant even answer cause your slidin that little pussy allover my lap. Now you wanna act like your my good girl. Actin like your nothing more than my own little slut. Cant take you constantly goading me into fucking you whenever you see me. I can't goddamn take it anymore!"

He lets go of my throat to drop to his knees and lift my mini skirt up. Doesn't waste a second pulling my silky baby blue thong to the side and slurping at the opening of my pussy. I wail as he messily licks inside of me, his tongue jabbing repeatedly to get inside. Nails of both hands scratching at the wall behind me, I come unglued at the intense pleasure he suddenly forces on me.

"Plee- ahhh! P-pleeeeeea-se! Haah, uhnuhnuhnuhn Bru- ah!!" I stutter out my pleasure as I look down and meet his eyes.

The way he takes me in as he devours has me trembling even more against his mouth. As much as I need this, I'm too fucking sensitive. From the way Bruce stares as he eats me it's obvious he knows; is fucking using it to his advantage as his grips each of my ass cheeks and pulls me onto his mouth and fucks me with his tongue as deep as he can. His filthy moans about how good I taste but how bad I am are muffled against my cunt.

His right hand slides down my smooth brown skin, rubbing and groping my thick thighs. He sensually massages down my leg to my calf before slowly making his way back up to my clenched cheeks. A hard smack resonates through me and I shove upwards off his mouth from the impact. His answering growl as he pulls me backs down is clear: don't fucking pull away again.

"Toomuch! Ohohoh pleeeeeeease Bruce!"

He sends me into a blissful spiral, the intense sensation spiking in my core. I'm begging for the torture to end, for him to make me cum. But he only wiggles his tongue inside me widly as he moves his hands to my pussy lips and spreads them wider so he can get deeper.

My eyes must be at the back of my skull from the force of how they roll eye back. I wordlessly plead for reprieve, which he seems to only delight in. He chuckles heartily into the pink of me as he leers at my tits jiggling underneath my shirt.

I'm sure my souls about to rip out my body when I feel his thumb lightly swipe at my throbbing clit once. The tumultuous orgasm tumbling to the surface frightens me, has me seriously doubting my endurance to take it. So it's no fault of mine that I tug at my bosses short brown locks, ripping his swollen lips from my frantically pulsating pussy. He stares at me through narrowed eyes, his straight nose inna prominent snarl as I apologize profusely.

"Imsorryi'msorryi'msorry!" I rush out with heavy breaths and a heaving chest.

"No the fuck you're not, goddamn brat." He spits out as he stands and lifts me up against his strong chest with hands to the back of my thighs.

Walking me to the conference table, Bruce's sits me down atop it. He says nothing, towering above me as he looks down at while unbuckling his belt. His stare is lecherous while unbottoms his pants, so god damn domineering as he pulls out his twitching monster cock and presses it through the wetness between my legs.

It's not gonna fit, no way it'll fit. His dick is to thick, somehow his tip flaring out to become even wider. It's fuckin scary and thats without describing the girthy shaft. Still, I moan at the breathtaking feeling of him tappin the head at my opening. Even though my sweaty body is tense, my insides quiver rapidly hoping to catch his tip.

"I have a proposal for you too, y/n.." He leans in close to whisper against my lips, blocking me from the view of his fat cock at my entrance. "Your gonna take this dick like a good girl and I might not fuck your pretty little mouth and bust down your throat till your unconscious. You agree to the terms?"

I nod slowly, helplessly, my gaze briefly straying to his swollen mouth. Knowing how he ate me moments before and the way he damn near pins me to the table now that he's not letting me go till he's done.

"Look at you being a good girl for once." He compliments, smacking my sensitive clit with his rigid dick over and over.

My eyes roll back as I shout Bruce's name repeatedly, feeling my orgasm race back to the surface with double the intensity. My frame shakes like a leaf underneath him as my back arches and I dig my nails into the wood table beneath me. My mean ass boss only slaps his dick at my pulsing little gem quicker, drinking in my frantic reaction.

He greedily soaks in my pitiful body in the throes of the best orgasm I've ever received. The smile on his face is sinister, so damn dangerous as he replaces his dick with his thumb, sliding the head of his dick to my opening and shoving between my drenched, unprepared fluttering walls.

Time almost seems to stand still, as my lids fly open and I choke, trying and failing to pull in a gasping breaths against his pretty pink lips as he bullies his cock into my pussy while I'm still cumming. He groans like a wounded animal and I'm fucking alarmed that he actually gets in on the first push, though no explanation is needed for the unbearable pressure weighing in my gut.

My legs kick out behind him uncontrollably while I grip onto his suit jacket for dear life and stare at him with big teary eyes. Try as I might to inch off Bruce's cock by scooting backwards, I don't get very far before he's gripping me and pullin me back onto his leaking dick by my neck again.

"Keep. Fuckin. Still!"

Each word accentuated by him sliding in and out of my little hole. His other hand holds himself above me as he fucks into me roughly. My head thrashes side to side as I apologize nonstop. Hair from my two buns loosens and falls, sticking to the perspiration on my face.

"Oooooooh fuck, I can't believe I waited so loooong! Ah, ah, ah, pussyfeelssogood! Uhn, fuck y/n! Not gonna last, too damn tight.. so weeet! Haaaaah!"

His cock digs deep, finally in a bit more than half way as he pumps into me ferociously. It's so fuckin amazing, nothings ever felt so good, so intense. I light years beyond coherence as drool unknowingly seeps from the corner of my mouth as I share my pleasure into the air. All my strength is split between processing the sensations between my legs and breathing.

"Fuuuuuck, sweety.. Gonna make me nut so damn hard. You want that? Fill that pretty little pussy till I can't anymore?

Bruce's grip around my throat tightens and it's a bit hard to breath but my normal reaction of instant panic is delayed by the dizzy feeling filling my head. I'm unaware of the suffocating clenches my pussy gives the big dick invading my insides as he huffs and puffs his pleasure at my ear.

"Ooooh shit, your so perfecttome! Haaaa! Mmmm sweetheart, made for me huh? Uhn, thaaaas a good fuckin girl!"

His back hunches him over my body as he stabs in to the hilt, grinding his pelvis into mine as holds my seizing body to the table. The sudden unlimited pressure against my button sends me off; I take in as much air as I can unaware that my hips lightly hump back at him. Black and white spots dot in and out of my vision as the pressure in my tummy explodes through my battered cunt.

I squirt all over Bruce's suit, sliding my hands through his freshly cut hair down his neck to claw at his thick, muscular shoulders. His name is all I know as I desperately cry it out more times than I can count. No man has fucked to the point of tears and I'd tell him that if I could formulate sentences at the moment.

But I know he's in the same boat as his fingers loosen around my neck and he bites his lip hard, eyebrows drawn together from the way my pussy milks the cum from his cock.

"Oh heeell.. Fuuuuuuuuck, take it honey! Aaaaahhh, that's it, allforyouy/n! Take this nut like a gooooood giiiirrrrl!" He groans, eyes locked where we connect as he continuously pumps into me at his leisure.

It feels foreign but oh so fuckin welcoming as large splashes of cum gush my already soakin wet pussy. My needy insides clasp at Bruce's cock as if demanding he shoot more. He definitely fulfills his promise of stuffing my puffy cunt till she leaks.

"Mmmmm.. oh my fuckin God princess. You okay?" He asks between tiny grunts of pleasure, his hips still slowly pumping his cock into me.

I'm not sure how he expects me to answer; my lungs feel tight and my head is so fuzzy. I fight to steady my breathing, fingers remaining inna death grip around his shoulders. I finally feel the heavy trails of make up streaking down my chest and my wavy hair sticking to my sweaty temples. I know I looked fucked out to the max.

I can't even muster energy to cover myself as my head falls limply to the right and I see a group of men staring lewdly at us through the glass walls, each with a tented bulge in their business attire.

Bruce's phone beeps at that moment and he leans over slightly to read the text aloud.

"We agree to your terms of the proposal." He says with a dazzling smile.

Yeah, I fucking bet..

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x black!reader #smut #black reader #all readers #dirty talk #creamp!e #rough smut #sub reader #submisive and breedable

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keeksandgigz · 5 months

Note

thinking of eddie begging you to let him try his new magic trick out on you. he’s been practicing it for weeks and he finally has perfected it. only he accidentally grabs his set of real handcuffs instead of the trick ones…

i took the sub eddie route because i love my whiny pathetic boy

based off of this post- this is for @strangerstilinski specifically cause <333

THIS IS 18+ MINORS DNI

“baby c’mon lemme show you! i’ve been practicing on it i can get myself outta these handcuffs in under 30 seconds” your boy whines as he follows you around his trailer, trick handcuffs in hand, clinking his other every step.

you groan, it’s been days he’s been pressuring you to look at his tricks. with an eye roll you mutter out a “fine” as you sit yourself down at the table.

he likes doing his tricks on the floor, and so he’s kneeled on the carpeted ground, hands behind his back as the clicks the handcuffs around his wrists.

you can’t help but notice the sight in front of you. he’s pretty as his tongue sticks out, working the handcuffs to try to get out of his confinements. biceps bulging through the short sleeves of his shirt, cheeks turning hot as panic stains his eyes.

“fuck- shit” he huffs, at the realization that his trick has gone wrong.

“what’s wrong, Houdini?” you tease, blood running hot at his reddened face.

“baby- i uhhh- do you remember where i put the keys to the handcuffs? the other ones” he huffs “i- shit- i got them confused, please lemme out” he whines, wiggling on his knees.

“stop struggling, ed. it’s gonna hurt your wrists” voice laced in sugar as you reach for him, gather his hair to the back of his head and pull.

A loud whine escapes the boy’s throat, low and rumbled in the depth of his chest as he feels himself stir in the tightness of his pants.

“y’know what? i think i like you like this, ed. so, so pretty” you croon, hooking the curve of your ankle on his shoulder, behind his neck. brown eyes, as a doe looking up at you, shadowed by the bangs on his beaded forehead.

you let your foot guide him, closer and closer to your parted legs. his mouth gaped in silent stupor, his breath quietly hitching in his own throat with the desire to smell you, feel you, taste you.

the bite of the metal cuffs isn’t bothering him anymore, as he looks at the wet patch on your panties from under your skirt. lips parted and swollen and awaiting, as he inhales, then exhales, a stirring deep in his tummy.

it pushes and pulls, the desire to let himself be used, his bewildered face coming closer and closer, smelling you so strongly it’s making him confused.

a strangled plea falls out of his mouth, throwing all caution out of the window as he finally presses his nose to your clothed mound and inhales. all he ever needed is right in front of him.

“why don’t you do a magic trick on me, baby?”

and he looks at you like you just hung the moon for him. big brown eyes, sparkling in the dim fluorescents of his trailer, your smell intoxicating him as he hums and nods.

"please baby let me- let me taste you, i'll make you feel so good" he exhales, glassy eyes as he tries to teeth and lip his way past your panties to no avail. without his hands to aid him, his tongue of gold is nothing but a useless muscle.

he does whatever he can to feel you, though, sucking purple bruises across the flushed skin of your thighs, quivering with the anticipation that you don't let yourself fall victim to just yet, slightly bucking your hips into the air, looking for friction in the thin fabric of your cotton panties rather than the plush softness of his lips.

you play the waiting game for as long as you can, until you dare the boy to take your panties off with his teeth. clumsily he does, maybe tearing the cotton from the lacy lining as he spits them out on the carpet floor and dives himself on you like a man starved.

eyes rolled to the back of his head as he revels in the taste of you, so cruelly denied to him as soft moans and whimpers escape him, rumbling against you with such overwhelming power that you can't help but grind yourself on him, coating eddie's chin, cheeks and nose with slick.

wondering where the hell he got so lucky to get a woman so angelic and yet so devil like that will fuck him after a failed attempt at a magic trick. what he doesn't know is that his magic tricks only turn you on further.

#keeksgetsasks!#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #moots🫶🏻#mariah🪐

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persephone11110 · 8 months

Text

Red Wave

Jake Seresin x Reader

Warnings: periods, blood—period accidents, past abusive relationship—asshole ex byf, relationship fluff, soft jake seresin,cuddling, hurt/comfort,curse words

Summary: Your period would come the night you spend the night at your boyfriend Jake’s house.

AN: random fic, the result of me enduring period pain. this fic was created a month ago— my coming back fic Enjoy❤️

—

It wasn’t uncommon for you to ignore the pain that settled at the bottom of your stomach. Unfortunately you’ve gotten accustomed to the pain—the way it rattles through your stomach, reminding you it still there. Had you banged in sick today you wouldn’t been at work today much less Jake’s apartment.

Not because you don’t want the share the same space as him but because what if he’s digusted by you?

What if Jake decides he doesn’t want you sleeping in the same bed as him and makes you pick between the cold floor or your car?— Patrick made you do that every single month.

—

Not many people think a big muscular man with asshole tendencies like Jake would enjoy spooning in bed. Only person who got the courtesy to enjoy was you— the only other person who had the right to see Jake Seresin and not the brash Hangman.

You.

His face is pushed against your back, his warm hands roaming around your cold stomach. Jake can’t and will never get used to this. The emotional feeling of having someone love him even when he still thinks he’s unworthy of love, the physical feeling of her touch.

At first his eyes are too busy roaming your sleeping body. The way your feet curl up because your too stubborn to admit the fact that you indeed are cold blooded. “Ice Queen”.

Jake’s pulling the blanket up when something wets touches his hand. He can’t just roll over and ignore it, he lets go of you and reaches for his phone.

The bright light shines onto the silk sheet it revealing a dark red stain.

Oh.

This isn’t rocket science, Jake Seresin has been with plenty of women—and he’s spent the last two years with you.

“Doll wake up”. Jake whispers, gently rubbing his fingers onto your back-attempting to wake you up. Jake smiles when he sees your eyebrows perk up— in dissatisfaction.“C’mon Y/n, all I need is a couple of minutes”. He fingers gently graze ovee your face— moving pieces of hair outta of your eyes.

Jake watches as your eyes finally open.You caught the time of the clock 0200— Why Is Jake up so early?, Is there an emergency?

“Jake?”, your voice is filled with worry-“Whats wrong?”.

“Nothing serious honey”Jake’s quick to reassure you.

If its nothing serious then why did he—

Thats when you feel it— and you easily identify the wetness that currently in between your legs.

Shit.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Jake” you sniffed—you jumped out of bed—grabbing the already bloody sheet and wrapping it around you. Out of the corner of your blurry eyes, you notice how badly you bled all over the sheets.

“I-I’m sorry Patrick I-I didn’t mean to at all, you have to believe me”, your lips quivered with fear. you remember what happened last time, and the time before that.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Y/n!” Patrick angered stance reminded you of an angry animated character. Fumes running out of his ears and nose—face beat red.

All you can remember is him gripping your wrist. Next thing you knew your were on the ground holding your left cheek.

“You never fucking learn Y/n“Patricks right… you never really did learn.

You can’t count how many times you’ve stood against the shower wall staring at your own blood swirling into the drain.

“Y/n?” your vision is still to blurry to see who’s infront of you. Someones hands are gently tugging at you,“C’mere darling”.

His slips in behind you ignoring the high pressured water. He could care less about his damp clothes, Jake only cared about you.

“I’m so sorry—I’m so sorry” you kept muttering over and over again as you buried your face into Jake’s chest. “Please dont”.

Jake hates how small your voice sounds—he hates how much fear is rolling off of you.

“its okay…its okay” Jake kept whispering into your ear. “Sweetheart I’m not going to hurt you, you know that right?”, he slowly adds—Jakes unsure of how to begin.

How many times did Patrick say that to you?—how many times did he really mean it?

Jakes not Patrick.

“Yeah”, you whispered into his chest. A brief silence is followed before you break it again.“I’ll clean it up you know”.

“Doll”, hes paused his kissing,“If blood scared me I would’ve never joined any sport teams, much less became an aviator”. He presses a kiss into your shoulder—, his voice is so firm and confident.

“Thank you Jake” tears drip down your face.

“Y/n theres no reason for you to be thanking me for the bare minimum”. Water splashes as he moves around to get to your face.“Doll you need them its no different from when I buy you black coffee or how I make you eggs bloody with ketchup”

Tears started to well in your eyes“Awe, Jake thats so sweet”, your hormones are all over the place—“I love being in love with the sweetest man on earth”.

You don’t have to open your eyes to see how red your boyfriend face is–you chuckled lightly at his appearance.

“Whats so funny Doll?” He’s smiling into your head.

“Nothing, i love you”. You insisted cheekily as giggles leave your mouth. “So much”.

#top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader

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alloftheimaginesblog · 1 year

Text

ignore it {e.m}

plot: making out in the back of Eddie's van is one of your favourite ways to pass the time

character: eddie munson x plus size female character

part of my eddie munson ‘pretty eyes’ series

He drove you insane; drove your body absolutely crazy. The way you reacted to him barely even touching you, hell just looking at you, was ridiculous. Eddie knew that he had such an impact on you; he knew that if he looked at you a certain way, touched your neck and grazed your ass ever so slightly, he knew that your panties would be soaked. He loved that he had this power over you; loved how malleable you were in his hands - like putty.

The music blasted as his hands roamed your body, groping at your chest, squeezing the fat on your hips. As much as Eddie had a control over you, the control you had over him was much more intense. Eddie loved your body, the way you smelled, the way you looked, the way you tasted. He worshipped every curve, every dip, every groove and bump of you. Each time you lay here, beneath him in the back of his van, he proved to you just how perfect you were to him.

"Fucking Ozzy," he hissed under his breath as he looked down at you, half naked and flushed on the orange shag rug.

You smirked, "That good, hm?"

"You're a work of art. You should be in a museum." Eddie was your boyfriend and he'd seen you naked a lot but each time he did, he had a new supply of compliments and ways to make you blush. It wasn't just the standard 'you're beautiful', 'you look so good', it was new and fresh each time. It wasn't repetitive and practiced, it was a new compilation each time and you believed every word he said about you, "You and those goddamn pretty eyes of yours," he shook his head as he crawled over you, "got such a hold on me, princess."

It was as he was about to kiss you again that the crackle of the walkie talkie that was in the front seat interrupted the two of you and Dustin's voice crackled through, "Dustin to Eddie, Dustin to Eddie, are you there? We have a D and D emergency. I repeat, D and D emergency. We need you immediately at Mike's house... Over."

You looked to Eddie, eyebrow quirked, "A D and D emergency?" You mused, "Sounds serious."

Eddie rolled his eyes, "Just ignore it. Now where were we?" He leaned down again, lips pursed and open ready to capture yours in a heated kiss when the walkie crackled again.

"Dustin to Eddie, I know that you can hear this so stop being a shithead and stop ignoring me! I'm annoying, Eddie, I won't stop until you answer me! You have been warned... over."

Eddie groaned, "He's the shithead."

"Ignore it," you huffed before pulling Eddie down to kiss you. He was surprised by your sudden action but he didn't let the surprise show and immediately eased into the kiss. He loved the way you kissed him, possessive and fast. He liked knowing that you needed him as much as he needed you. With one hand, he began to push his hand into your unbuttoned jeans, moving past your panties and-

"Dustin to Eddie 'the Shithead' Munson!" The sudden shrill screech of Dustin made you and Eddie jump apart, "I know you said not to bother you cause you and (y/n) are banging but this is serious and we need you!"

Eddie leaned back against the wall of the van as you sat up and laughed, "I guess we won't be ignoring him this time." You grabbed your shirt and pulled it on over your head, "Hurry up Munson, it sounds super serious and we need to hurry."

Eddie rolled his eyes as he laughed, "Fuck sake, man. When Henderson grows up and gets his first girlfriend or boyfriend, I can't wait to cockblock the shit outta him."

#prompt #one shot #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size series #pretty eyes series #pretty eyes #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger one shot #os #st #st imagine

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blenselche · 2 months

Text

thing to throw in ch4

show simon should have kept comic simon's ponytail IM RIGHT

"..." Simon comes to a decision and takes Finn's arms in his hands, directing him to sit as he crouches low in front of him, gaze searching over his upset, ruddy face. "I can at least return the favor you did me, let me help." Finn lets out a startled, loud laugh at that. "Help!?" His face bursts open, looking manic with wide, bloodshot eyes. "I didn't help you! I-" a deep breath speeds out of him, slumping back into himself, slurring "Simon, c'mon, man. Th's a waste of y'r time." "Finn," Simon's voice cracks watching his nostrils flare as this person he witnessed grow up tries so hard to keep it together. "You're never a waste of my time. I'm only here because of your efforts." He sighs, then slaps his knees and stands abruptly. "Up we go. You have a very nasty cut on your shin." Finn's face cants as he casts a look to his leg, grunting. "Thwacked m'self with th'axe earlier, forgot, didn'feel it." He lets himself be corralled into his cabin with heavy, stumbling feet, directed to sit on the edge of his cot as Simon vanishes into his bathroom. "Don' have first aid, s'fer scrubs," he calls. "Ah, is that so?" Simon's sardonic chuckle floats down the hall. The sink runs and Finn collapses onto his back, drowsy eyes staring a hole into the roof as he argues with himself mentally over letting someone see him like this. "This will have to do, then." Finn feels his leg dampen and he leans up on his elbows, a hot stone of guilt drops into his stomach at what the other man is wrapping his wound in. "Not'cher cute lil vest, man," he whines. "I have other waistcoats, Finn, you have a limited number of limbs left to lose." He motions for his friend to turn himself into the mattress properly. "Come on, don't be difficult," he instructs, rolling the bear skin up and sliding it under Finn's leg to elevate it before dragging a wooden folding chair to the bedside, taking a seat and placing his moistened handkerchief beneath blonde bangs. "Now, why are you day drinking and demolishing your home?" "M'not- m'not wreckin' it, jus' needs t'be replaced." "And you're inebriated at two in the afternoon why?" Simon repeats the dodged half of the question with careful patience. Finn stares at him sadly. "Always am," he lets slip with a shameful slide of the eyes downward, Simon's brows jump into his hairline. "I get up an' drink enough so th'shakes leave. Get all my shit outta th'way, beer at lunch. Ignore Preeb's calls'n break into th'homebrew at dinner. Kinda jus'... skipped a few steps t'day." "... why today? Your m- ah," Simon stutters, "the Minervabot I see asked that I check on you on this date, specifically. Is there significance for you?" He quiets for a moment before uttering "there is for me, though you know that already." Finn's face screws up as his whole body jerks from a dry sob he swallows down, feelings tearing his insides to shreds. He weighs if he should admit the truth, if anyone could understand it's Simon but he doesn't want to put that on his shoulders, not when this is the day he lost Betty. "Finn?" He takes a soppy, shuddering breath in and holds it, then whimpers "he died t'day," almost silently through clenched teeth as the muscle of his jaw jumps. Simon grasps his hand gently, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles, politely ignoring the stress-sweat coating his palm. "Who did?" Finn blinks the tears from his eyes and rolls them back, pounding his chest as he tries to calm down. He points at himself and twirls his hand vaguely, throwing a thumb out the window towards a tree, unable to say his name.

#keep yourself au #finn mertens #simon petrikov #srsly tho his comic design is 100x better

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tw1l1te · 3 months

Text

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 3

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, soft and domestic, suggestive themes

You walk out of the bathroom, clad in Sky’ old Skyloft tunic and trousers, dirty clothes in your arms. You walk back into your room and stuff the clothes in your pack, noting to wash them the next time you get the chance.

You hear a soft knock at the door, noticing that Legend was leaning up against it.

“Old Man just wanted me to let you know that we’re leaving at dawn, towards Castle Town. Apparently we have some business to discuss with the resistance.”

Legend takes a moment to take in your form. The tunic Sky gave you was practically falling off of you.

“Oh for the love of- You need a belt… at least till we find you clothes that actually fit you.”

Legend leaves your room and comes back a second later with a leather belt. He walks right up to you and wraps it around your waist, tightening it enough to hold the tunic in place, but not tight to the point you couldn’t breathe. Adjusting the fabric, you hum at how much more comfortable the tunic feels on you.

“Better?” you nod “Good.” you expect him to leave, but he doesn’t. He takes your hands in his and looks at them. His hands are soft yet battered with scars and nicks, and callosed from holding swords for years.

He looks back up at you, searching for something in your eyes, but you can’t tell what.

“Leg? You ok?” you ask, starting to get worried about the lack of words from him.

You don’t expect him to kiss your hand, eye contact not straying from yours. You felt your entire body get hot, this moment feeling so intimate and yet, so natural. It was hard to pinpoint.

“Whatever happens, whatever you decide to do, I’m gonna do my absolute best to protect you. I won’t let anything happen to you Y/n, you hear? I promise you.” he whispered.

You bring up one of your hands to brush through his blonde-pink bangs, and place a soft kiss on his forehead, staying there for a few seconds longer.

“I know, bunny. I know.”

That night was sleepless for you. You were up before anyone else, fastening supplies onto your pack and taking note of what you needed to get on your next supply run.

One by one, the heroes woke up and made their way downstairs, surprised at how early you woke up, as you typically were one of the last ones to be awake.

By about 6 in the morning, you were well on your way out of Ordon Village. You were walking alongside Wars and Four, both of whom were a bit too tired to hold a conversation, but you were more than ok with that. You needed some space to think.

What was up with Sky? Especially in the bathroom? You know things have been tense with the Shadow and constantly adventuring, but it seemed like Sky had something on his mind. You needed to find out some time soon, it kept gnawing at you.

And in terms of the other elephant in the room… you were still so lost. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t just leave the chain, as if the past year and a half was a fun adventure or game. This… this was your life now… but you didn’t belong here. You saw how townsfolk looked at you, even sneering at you for managing to catch the heroes’ eyes. As much as everyone reminded you that you were one of them… you knew you weren’t. You weren’t involved in an ancient prophecy, wielded the triforce, or even came from any of their eras. You were nobody.

“But anyways, this bigass fish just came outta NOWHERE and I started slashing at it and using my hook to swing on top of it-” “Wind, stop overwhelming Y/n, I can tell she already got lost at the part with the redeads.” Twilight chuckled, throwing a smile your way “Plus we arrived at Castle Town.”

Castle Town was BUSY. Everyone was bustling about, trying to hit their sale markers for the day, advertising their goods and services. You saw an ancient wares and magical items shop, but Twilight quickly ushered you deeper into the town. You’d have to check it out later.

Entering a quieter alleyway, you make your way down a set of stairs leading to a bar in a corner, no doubt being where this “resistance” acclimated. You remembered playing the game and having a hard time finding it, but you liked the little quest. Despite being in Twilight’s Hyrule twice since you first met the chain, you’ve never actually went into Telma’s Bar.

“Link? Is that really you?” Telma exclaimed, eyes wide open with disbelief. “Didn’t think I’d see you so soon!! I see you brought some friends along?” She said, looking at the boys and then at you “And a partner?” she asked in a teasing tone.

Twilight waved his hands “Ah, no! We’re not like that. These are all my traveling companions. We just came by to see if Shad and Ashei were around.”

Telma’s eyes flashed in recognition. She knew why we were here.

“They’re in the back, they’ve been here since last night. They’ve been expecting you, actually.” She said, towel drying a glass. You all thank her, walking to the end of the hallway.

Opening the door, you see Ashei and Shad hunched over a map, notebooks and books scattered across the table.

“Ashei!” you exclaim, you haven’t seen her in ages, especially since portal-hopping so often.

She gives you a tight hug, smiling at you “How have you been Y/n? Hope Link hasn’t been too rough with ya.” you giggle at her remark, waving her off.

“Nah he’s all good, just a bit stinky per usual,” you chuckle, throwing a wink back at Twilight.

“Y’all are actin’ as if i'm not ‘ere.” he laughed in disbelief, playing along with your joke.

Ashei rolls her eyes, pulling you along to look over the table.

“Alright, anyways, why you’re all here. So, we’ve been lookin’ at the map for a bit and compared our notes with the research team. They said there was a strong pull coming from the Arbiter’s Grounds, located in the desert. Link, I know you were last there with the Twilight Mirror, did you see any other mirror-like objects?” Ashei asks, deep in concentration.

“No. Last time I was there, the Twilight Mirror was destroyed as soon as-” he takes a breath. “As soon as I finished the job.” He says, a far off look in his eyes.

As soon as Midna left him, he meant.

“Right. Ok. Well, Shad did a little more digging and got permission to access Hyrule’s archives, even the forbidden section. Apparently, something deeper is goin’ on.” Ashei gestured at Shad, urging him to continue.

“Ahem, right. I looked through the historical texts in order to see the background and history of the desert, specifically the Arbiter’s Grounds. I looked for hours on anything unusual or anything I didn’t know before, but there was nothing. However, when I got access to the forbidden archives, there were tons of unpublished and banned texts, almost as if…” he trailed off.

“Nobody wanted the public to know.” Time finished, starting to piece things together.

“Correct. So, after reading a bit, turns out there was, or possibly IS another mirror. However, not to the Twilight Realm or a time travel mirror. This one, apparently, to whole other dimension.”

You breathed out, not sure the last time you took a breath. This was a lot, but you had to hear the rest of it.

“The trip itself can take a few weeks, especially since warp locations have disappeared years ago. You’ll need to head to the Arbiter’s Grounds and find a way deeper underground. The map in the book says there’s a whole other tunnel system underneath what has been uncovered during the Twilight Siege.”

“The mirror itself was built by some cult. No one knows the name of it or if its still active, as the mirror was said to be built thousands of years ago, possibly even before the Twilight Mirror itself. The pages on the cult itself have been long ripped out, so as of right now its impossible to know how the mirror itself was made, their motives, and history of the cult.”

The room stayed silent, everyone taking information in as it was thrown at them. Legend was deep in thought, fiddling with his rings, a nervous habit you’ve noticed.

Time and Wars were looking at each other, almost communicating silently.

Twilight had has hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you or him, it was unclear.

Wind and Hyrule looked worried, unsure of the implications of the cult.

Four’s eyes kept flickering back and forth, as if he was conversing with the colors in his head.

Sky was biting his fingernails, another habit that you noticed from him.

Wild just seemed dazed, looking through you as if he was remembering something.

You just stared at the map, needing a few seconds to process. Holy shit. You might actually be going home.

“You alright, Y/n?” Time asked, placing a hand on your other shoulder. You nodded, not looking away from the map.

Before you could say anything, Twilight stated “Thanks Ashei, Shad. We’re gonna need to discuss a bit before we can go ahead. I assume y’all will still be here for a lil’?” he asked, waiting for confirmation from the two. They both nodded, leaving Twilight to usher you out back towards Telma’s Bar, the others following behind you two.

You all sit down at the bar, Wars ordering a few drinks for all of you, and sliding a pouch of rupees towards Telma as payment.

“Before you start getting guilty about changing our course, don’t. We want to help you, Y/n.” Time stated, not looking away from you.

He knew exactly what you were thinking, it seems.

“But its not your responsibility for you guys to take me home, or lead me there. It’s my responsibility.” you said, voice cracking. “Hell, I wasn’t even supposed to be here, I fell through the portal on accident, and I don’t know how the hell it even landed in my reality to begin with. You guys are supposed to focus on getting to the Shadow, not help me get home because I’m homesick.”

Wars sighed “Y/n, if it were anyone else in the group, we’d help them get home, no matter what. We’re a team. You’re one of us, so we’re going to do this for you. We don’t have to, but we WANT to. We want to help you get home.” He said, giving you a small smile in attempt to console you.

You nodded, “Fair enough, I suppose. I’m not in charge of what y’all wanna do, but don’t do it because you feel like you owe me something.” you said, taking a swig of the alcohol. You needed to loosen up.

No one mentioned it out loud, but they knew what they were all thinking. After all, they are reincarnations of each other in some ways.

They’d do anything for you, you didn’t have to lift a finger and they’d do it. No questions asked.

You didn’t know that though. You just saw them as being too trusting and good for their sakes.

“Fuck my ears feel heavy!” you giggled, your face was all pink and you knew you were tipsy.

“I think I'm shrinking Y/n,” Four panicked, gripping his locks in his hands.

“You’re Minish, Four. You’re naturally shrunken.” Legend mumbled, staring off into the half empty glass.

“Fuck, you’re so right.” Four groaned.

You leaned against Time, looking up through your lashes.

“I think you’re realllll handsome, blondie.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmmm!! It’s not fair. I want them golden locks of yours.”

“Other’s in the group have blonde hair as well?”

“They do??”

You take a look at the others, realizing your mistake “Oh.”

You turn back at him and sigh dreamily “But you’re just so…. Ugh!!! Like a…. Um…. hell I don’t know. I’m not good at metaphors and stuff. You’re just hot. Yeah. Real hot,” you say, swirling your drink for the millionth time that night.

Time just stayed silent, but could feel the blush creeping up his neck. You were drunk, it didn’t mean anything…. But it did. It always did when it came from you, drunk or not.

“Alright, off to bed, you. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” he said, collective groans coming from around the bar.

He made eye contact with Telma and slid over an extra 20 rupees for dealing with everyone’s shenanigans, mouthing a silent “thank you” at her.

Without another word, he slung you over his shoulder and carried you upstairs, where Telma added some renovated rooms in the past few years, proving to be very helpful with the current situation, as he didn’t want to carry you outside for a few blocks to the nearest inn.

He was gentle with you when he laid you in bed, but your arms were still around his shoulders, refusing to loosen up.

“You gotta sleep, sunshine. We gotta leave early again tomorrow.”

“Mmhh… stay with me?” you asked, slightly sleepy from the alcohol in your system.

Time considered for a moment. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“Of course, scootch over.”

Time slipped his boots off and took off the breastplate and shoulder pieces of armor off, setting it against the dresser to put back on in the morning. You didn’t once look away. You couldn’t.

Your feelings have been so complicated with the chain the past few months. The past few weeks especially. You keep having… moments with them. Not tense, no, more… romantic or intimate. That wasn’t even how you wanted to describe it, but you couldn’t come up with anything else. You weren’t sure if you were reading into it too much, or hoping your 12-year old self was living her fantasy of being with her favorite character, but…. part of you hoped it was true. So when Time turned around, you were standing chest-to-chest with him, or rather chest-to-face as you were at least a foot shorter than him. Curse your genetics and lack of tallness.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry Y/n, I didn’t see you-” “Time, what’s been going on with you?”

When you were drunk, you didn’t like to beat around the bush. But even with several drinks in your system, you’ve never felt more sober.

“I don’t follow.”

“Oh, I think you do. You’ve been acting off around me. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something?-”

“No, nothing like that-”

“Did I make you uncomfortable? Did I do or say something to make you upset with me?-”

“Y/n, no I-”

“If I did please just be honest with me because I might leave-”

He kisses you, deeply. You can feel your tears spilling from your waterline, fat pearls pouring over. You close your eyes, relishing this moment, praying to Hylia this wasn’t a dream or some mind game. You needed him. You needed them.

You whimper into the kiss, throwing your arms around his neck, him groaning softly in response. His hands are gripping your waist, pulling you closer to him, as if he’s stopping you from running away. Leaving him.

You both hesitantly pull away, a string of saliva connecting you. You flutter your eyes open, looking at Time’s blown out eyes, him slightly panting.

“I like you.” you blurt out, not wanting to waste another moment.

He chuckles at that, “You don’t say.”

You giggle, smacking his shoulder and muttering “asshole”.

With that, you both strip your outer layers and leave on your under tunics and pants, Time turning off the light while you get under the blankets.

You start undoing the small ponytail you made in the morning to keep your hair out of your face, but Time instead starts undoing it, leaving you to put your hands in your lap, waiting for him to finish. He places the ribbon on the nightstand and kisses your shoulder.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

₊˚✩⊹

#yandere linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe au #linkeduniverse #link x reader

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bigtreefest · 2 months

Text

Chapter 1: Fix Your Shoelaces

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: Two simple pleasures in life include sleep and chocolate milk. You just never thought they’d both be ruined in one weekend.

Word count: 3,862

Content/warnings: Swears, curdled milk, riding a horse, alcohol consumption, suspicion, dancing

Author’s Note: This takes place at the same time as chapters 5 and 6 of YCMBWH.

This is the first installment of The Rainmaker storyline in the Outta Nowhere AU. This is also a very different environment from where we will usually see this pairing, but that’s the fun in it.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Outta Nowhere AU | Series Masterlist | Next >

You were awoken from your deep sleep to someone pounding on your door. As you put on your robe and shuffled through the living room, you caught a glance at the clock on the stove. 10:43pm. Who in their right mind would be at your door this late? A better question: why were you on your way to answer it? You didn’t even answer calls from unknown numbers.

You opened the door and immediately squinted at the bright fluorescent light of the hallway as it hit you in the face. Standing there in a full suit was a man with tall, broad shoulders and kind blue eyes under a tuft of blonde hair you assumed had lost its styling from a long day. If you asked your best friend, her evaluation would be ‘totally your type.’ He was a gorgeous, pretty boy….yeah….pretty seemed like a fitting description. Good looks or not, though, he woke you up hardly two hours into your sleep schedule.

“What do you want?”

“Um, good evening. You’re…” he looked down at a sticky note in his hand. “…Decks, right? I’m here to talk to you about a matter concerning Honeybee-I mean-“

You cut him off, grabbing his arm to drag the handsome man into your apartment and out of the hallway so you wouldn’t get another noise complaint from the old lady next door. Although, it was probably already too late for that since he had been banging on your door for who knows how long. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. I know what you’re talking about, come in.”

Steve gently closed the door behind him as you moved to turn on a lamp by the couch. You flopped down in an arm chair while he perched himself on the couch cushion closest to you. Even with your messy hair in the dim light, there was something intriguing about you to him.

You leaned back and squinted at him. “So what’s going on? Are you Bucket? I’ve been told about you.”

Steve straightened in his seat. Bucky was going to love that he was the topic of one of Bee’s conversations outside the farm.

He smiled and shook his head. “No, actually. I’m Steve. I work very closely with Bucky, though. I was sent here to take you over to the farm. There’s been an emergency and we need all the closest people there to help out.”

You looked at him skeptically. “Why didn’t anyone call first? Why were you sent here?”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, you probably wouldn’t have picked up if I called, and time is of the essence. I can explain more on the way there.” He shrugged.

You looked at him with confusion. “Listen, I love my friend and all, and I’m willing to be there for her, but I’ve got work tomorrow. What am I supposed to do about that?”

Steve waved his hand and closed his eyes in reassurance before speaking softly. “It’s already been taken care of. Just, if you could go ahead and pack a bag, grab only essentials because we need to get going.”

You groaned. At least you’d heard of Steve before, your bestie had described him as pretty decent, and you hated that she was right, in more ways than one. You grabbed a bag off the back of your door and tossed it at Steve. “Okay, fine. Pack some snacks, it’s a long way to go at this time of night.”

He simply nodded and walked to your pantry, packing up everything that could easily be eaten on the road, along with a few bottles of water.

You emerged from your room with a duffel on your shoulder to see him waiting for you on the couch, food bag in his lap.

When Steve saw you, he was captivated. You’d changed into an old college sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair in a messy bun, but your face looked like it was ready to take on the world, despite the premature rise from sleep.

He got up and followed you to the door, turning off the lamp on the way over. As you locked your apartment, you whispered over to him. “What did you bring here? Let me see your keys.”

Steve dug into his pocket, pulling out the keychain with a jingle. “Range Rover.”

You grabbed them out of his hands. “Perfect. I’m driving.”

It had been awhile since you’d been all the way out to the farm. You used to come and help out over the summers during college, mostly baling hay and feeding animals. It was fun, but it wasn’t your life. Your degree and passion had drawn you to the city and kept you there for all these years.

You explained that to Steve on the drive over, in between the times you made him feed you the snacks. You noted that you were proud you could still drive this route by heart, too. Steve told you a little bit about how he did business in the city and how he knew Bucky, along with a story about why Bucky was out here in the first place. You had already heard the story from your roommate, so it wasn’t a surprise, but you were confused as to why they hadn’t called some sort of law enforcement to help. Something didn’t quite add up, but if someone you trusted so much trusted these men, that was good enough for now.

As you were nearing the end of the drive, Steve continued in his attempts to make conversation. “So how did you get the nickname ‘Decks?’”

You laughed dryly. “It’s a-“ you cut yourself off. “Hold on, I need to make sure I make this turn. It’s kind of hard to see at this time of night.”

You heard the wheels hit gravel as you pulled into the driveway and in front of the house, the headlights briefly lighting up Curtis leading a couple horses and tying their reins to the posts of the front porch in the darkness of the moonlit night.

Your eyes adjusted as you moved to get out of the car and watched Curtis jog over to the passenger side of the vehicle where Steve had just stood up, sticking out his hand.

“Hey, I’m Curtis, you must be Steve. Buck hasn’t left her side yet, so I’m gonna take you on back.”

Steve shook his hand “Yeah, good to meet you.”

Curtis gave him a slight nod and patted his shoulder, then ran around the other side of the vehicle to greet you by the driver’s side door. He reached his arms around your shoulders to give you a big hug with a tight squeeze. “Good to see you, Decks.”

“Yeah, you too, Curtis. Steve told me what’s going on. We should probably get back there.”

You rubbed his back before Curtis freed you from the hug and nodded in response, then looked back at Steve.

“You know how to ride?”

Steve couldn’t help the scoff that came from his lips. “Not one bit.”

Curtis sighed and looked between the two of you. “Okay, no worries. You’re with Decks, then. I’ll help you up. We’ll talk over all the details on the way there.”

Curtis led you over to the porch and helped you up onto the bigger of the two horses, then helped to prop Steve up behind you before getting onto his own horse and leading you toward the mines.

As your hips swayed back and forth with the horse’s footsteps, you could feel Steve clinging onto you for dear life. “You can ease up your grip a little, ya know. We’re not even going that fast. And you’re like, five feet off the ground. I promise you won’t get hurt.”

You could feel Steve nod in acknowledgment, his head resting against your shoulder, but nothing changed. If anything, his hold tightened. You laughed through the vice of his arms that was squeezing your diaphragm and continued on to the caves in the distance.

“So Steve told me one of the caves collapsed, and I’m not surprised because I know how old these things are, but why were you guys even back there? How did it fall so suddenly?”

You looked over at Curtis and he met your eye. “I want so badly to say it’s Bucket’s fault, but I know it’s really not. Your dear bestie insisted we go for a walk to show him the mines, and when he kicked one of the supports, the whole thing came crashing down. Could’ve happened to anyone at any time, though.”

You nodded. “Well, I’m glad she’s okay at least, but being trapped in there must suck. Either way, we’re happy to help with whatever’s needed.” Steve hummed against your shoulder in agreement.

You stopped the horses at the mouth of the cave and yawned from the early hour, stretching as Curtis helped Steve, then you, down from the horse. A man with brown hair and broad shoulders sauntered over to the three of you, greeting Steve with a hug and you and Curtis with a handshake. He wore a hard look on his face, but you could see the lace of concern through his forehead and eyes. Ah, this was Bucket.

“I’d take you guys in, but it’s sort of unstable right now. I’ve got direct orders from Honeybee, though, as to what we’re all supposed to do.”

He went through the plan, but in your tiredness, you barely caught his words. “I’ll go back over it in the morning, but the general gist is that we need to keep everything running smoothly and draw as little suspicion as possible.”

You looked between the men. None of them had caught on to one important detail. “I’ve still got Steve’s keys, but Buck, you’ve gotta tell your guys to move their cars, then. I’ve never seen that many in the driveway. People will notice. Move them into the hay barn. It should be empty enough this time of year before the next round of bales gets made. Can probably fit most of them.”

You all looked at Curtis and he nodded in agreement. “Yep, just as she said.” Bucky snapped his fingers and a young kid in a suit came running over to him, ready to take the command. What an odd interaction. You shrugged it off, though. Your brain hardly had any power at this point. It was just enough to ride back to the house and move the Range Rover into the pool barn behind the garage before flopping down into one of the guest bedrooms.

You woke up with a jolt to one of the roosters crowing. You forgot how loud those little bastards were, but something about it was comforting. You got dressed and brushed your teeth before making sure your hair was out of your face. You could smell breakfast and followed Curtis down the stairs to see Bucky making plates already.

That was surprising. As far as you knew from your conversation last week, he was struggling to get out of bed, and now he was up early enough to gather eggs and cook for everyone? Weird.

The steps creaked behind you as Steve matched them with his own groan, flopping into a chair. He wore a set of farm clothes you believe he’d borrowed from Curtis and his hair was a floofy mess. It was kind of cute, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the casual wear in juxtaposition to his suit from the night before.

Bucky pulled out a sheet of paper and explained your tasks again. You were so excited to be put on animal feed duty. You loved petting the little goats and sheep, they were so adorable.

As Bucky explained Steve’s tasks to him, you watched an almost unreadable expression grow on his face. He looked almost scared, daunted, intimidated? Maybe it was just dread? Eh, he’d probably be fine.

You finished up your plate and set it in the dishwasher before getting on with your day.

At mid-morning, you rolled up to the farmers market to help run sales with Bucky. You caught the sight of Steve carrying in his last wagon load of produce crates. His biceps bulged as he placed them all in the right places, and you couldn’t help but drool a little. Not only did he look good while being put to work, but he didn’t complain while doing it. Sure, you knew Bucky was technically his boss, but something about his willingness to help out did you in. Made you feel warm.

You watched as Bucky gave him a final set of instructions, and Steve walked back into the field. Man, did his ass look good in those jeans.

Hours passed by running the market with Bucky. You could see that a few repeat customers were happy to see him, some even trying to go in for hugs and offer him free drinks. You could see the charm you’d been told about.

As things began to slow, you found yourself standing next to Bucky, the both of you watching an older customer leave with some produce and a small jar of honey.

“Mrs. Jensen is definitely a talker. I think she needs someone else around.” He leaned towards you to say it lowly.

You laughed in response. He demeanor now was the same as when he was dealing with her, but somehow she was still so happy with their interaction.

Bucky continued. “Maybe I’ll let Jake see his mom later if he’s good.”

That caught your attention. “Wait, Jake is here? Why? Like, the Jake that broke my best friend’s heart? I thought they haven’t talked since before college.”

You could see Bucky trying to avoid eye contact with you. He was hiding something. Why would Jake be here?

“He’s done a lot lately that has made business difficult for both me and Bee. Since we are business partners after all. My people reached out and he came to apologize. Also happens he’s able to run some pretty complex calculations on his computer. He was more than happy to help out down at the mine when he heard she was in danger.”

You looked at him skeptically. “Okay…”

After you and Bucky had finished cleaning up the farmers market, you headed back to the house to relax some. You slipped off your boots and laid down on the couch, pulling a blanket up to your chin.

You were shaken awake and opened your eyes to see a pair of blue ones before you. It was Steve. He smiled.

“Hey, Decks. It’s time for dinner. You want some?” You nodded, stretching to sit up, seeing Curtis and his cousin, your best friend, bringing food to the table. You scrambled to toss the blanket off of you and ran over. You’d never hugged her so tight.

“You’re not dead! I’m so happy to see you.” Was muffled into her hair.

She laughed and rubbed your back. “It’s good to see you, too, Decks. Now let’s get some food. I’m starving.”

You nodded your head, still not letting go, as she waddled you to your chair next to Steve. He looked at the two of you, noticing you felt for each other the same way he felt for Bucky. There was a deep trust and appreciation that could rarely be matched.

As you were eating, you hardly realized Bucky wasn’t at the table until it was brought up in conversation. After a long day, and frankly, a long week, you all went upstairs and straight to bed.

You woke up to the sunshine, somehow sleeping through the roosters, probably from sheer exhaustion, and changed into your college hoodie and sweats. You walked downstairs to search through the fridge and find something decent to eat. As you were making toast, Steve came down and pulled out the pitcher of milk along with chocolate syrup.

“Ooh! Can you make me one, too? It’s been forever since I’ve had chocolate milk.”

He leaned up into the cabinet above you, abs brushing your back to grab another glass. You shivered slightly at the touch. You weren’t around people much, let alone people who looked like that.

“Sure thing, Decks, as long as you promise to make me toast.”

Your eyes narrowed, looking at him for a second. “Deal.”

After eating, you sat on the couch with Steve, sipping your chocolate milk and making small talk. He stayed vague about his everyday business dealings, and you felt like you didn’t have much to add since a lot of your work was confidential, and you didn’t have much time to do things outside of it.

You watched Bucky run down the steps and peek his head in the office before closing the door behind him.

You were about to offer to play a card game to pass the time with Steve since Curtis was due to be done any minute and could join, but there was a knock on the door.

You opened it up to see a ridiculously large vase of hydrangeas and a delivery driver already retreating back up the driveway. Oh great, what sorry guy sent these? She’s gonna hate them.

You picked up the vase to bring it inside, not expecting the sour smell that came off of it. You held it at arm’s length, fast walking to the office before knocking on the door with your foot. You held the vase in one arm to quickly open the door, showing the flowerpot, your face blocked by the large bouquet.

“Ugh! Decks, get that out of here. Where the hell did those come from?”

You ran back towards the front door, where Steve was holding it open, to set them on the porch. “Just got delivered. Don’t worry, I’ve smelled worse. There’s a card here.”

It’s true, you had smelled worse at work before, but it still didn’t mean it was very tolerable after some time. Everyone else stood back, hands covering their airways as you plucked the small piece of paper from the petals and read it out loud.

“Peach, can’t wait to milk our deal together. -Cole”

Everyone exchanged glances, disgusted by the weirdly suggestive statement, as you pulled the hydrangeas out of the vase and tossed them into the yard. You peered into the vase and gave it a sniff. In the bottom was a white goop, which you assumed had once been a liquid before a chemical reaction took place.

“He put the flowers in milk…and,” you sniffed again, “lemon juice?”

You fought a gag while you carried the vase out into the yard and did your best to get all the chunks out of it, eventually opting to spray it out with the garden hose. It still was a nice vase.

In your attempts to clean it, though, you knew some of the spoiled milk had splattered back on you and you’d need to get it off as soon as possible. So much for enjoying chocolate milk with Steve, because you were going to remember that smell for months.

You turned off the hose and grabbed the vase, stomping back into the house and slipping off your shoes.

Now frustrated with the situation, even though the mess was partially your fault, you were done. Most of it was probably due to the fact you couldn’t finish sipping the delicious beverage Steve had made for you. You shoved the vase into Steve’s chest and he cradled it with an oof.

“Finish cleaning that. And dump out my glass. I won’t be able to drink milk again for months.” You grumbled, moving towards the steps.

“Where are you going?” You heard behind you.

“To take a shower.” Your head whipped back around.

You continued to stomp up the stairs before gesturing aggressively with your arms above your head. “WHY DO GUYS ALWAYS SEND YOU WEIRD SHIT LIKE THAT!?”

You could hear Steve as you reached the bathroom. “I think I’m gonna need a shower, too, after this.”

Steve and Curtis chatted while they waited for you. “So like, what’s the deal with the trucks?”

Curtis shrugged as he opened the back door for Steve to get in, seeing you coming from the house. “Good for hauling stuff. You’re not gonna see many people out here without trucks, so it’s a good thing your fancy SUV is hidden away.”

Steve nodded, thankful you were on your way to end his awkward conversation-making skills that were not working very well on Curtis. Well, either that, or Curtis wasn’t very talkative, however, he never saw that same issue when you were around.

After a nice long, hot shower to remove the scent, you were relaxed and ready to go. Steve could smell your perfume, causing him to smile to himself.

Curtis opened the passenger door for you to hop in, and the two of you talked in the front seat on the way over as Steve sat in the back, watching and listening.

After spending hours at the bar, you were standing near the edge of the dance floor, chatting with Bee.

“So what do you think of him?” She tilted her head to gesture toward the blonde, wearing a hat that looked entirely too good on him.

You thought for a second before answering. “He’s a charmer, alright, in a really weird, awkward way. Kinda reserved, but very helpful. I respect it.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” She nudged your shoulder with her own.

“Well hold your horses, there, Honeybee. Some of us need a little more time to see what’s going on under the surface. Not everyone seems to fold so fast like your tall, dark, and handsome Bucket. Steve’s got something to him I just can’t figure out.”

“You will. I’m sure of it. That’s why you’ve got your job and I’ve got mine. You’re meant to be a scientist. An investigator.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

The music began to blare up above your conversation. Well, that’s a familiar tune.

“Oh! You love this one! You remember the dance I showed you in college? I think you’ve got some new guests to teach!”

You looked over to the pool tables to be greeted by Steve’s gaze directed right back at you with a dopey grin. Must be the alcohol, you thought to yourself. Bee had already left your side to go get Bucky.

“Do you want to dance?” You mouthed to him across the bar. He shrugged and mouthed back “I don’t know how.”

You gestured your arm for him to come towards you “I’ll teach you. Come on.”

Steve set down his cue and made his way through the crowd, only able to see your hat through the sea of people. He crouched down to reach your ear so you could hear him in the loud bar. “Don’t make fun of me if it’s bad.”

You laughed and shook your head at him as you set him up to stand in front of you. “No promises,” you yelled back.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Thank you for reading! Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are soooo appreciated.

What do you guys think of Decks? I love imagining her take the vase out to the yard, so fed up with the shenanigans that always happen around Bee.

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