“What
is it?” Clint asks. “Did they seriously put Cap on house-arrest?”“Basically,”
Tony says, turning the problem over in his head. “It injects him
with adrenaline if he falls asleep. They’re studying how sleep
deprivation affects his healing abilities.”Bruce
makes a distressed noise, but Hulk must be cooperating because Clint
doesn’t try to talk him down. “We know how it affects his
healing,” Bruce says indignantly. “It impairs it!”“Put on the suit!” Steve snapped, shoving the case toward Tony.
“You have a— weird obsession— with demanding I p— put clothes on— Rogers,” Tony said between coughs, but he was pushing up to kneel and fumbling with the clasp on the case. He got it open and the thing unfolded, reaching for him as he leaned into it.
He made it upright and the mask lowered over his face, but he only looked like he was going to be good for a second. Then he dropped back down like a puppet with cut strings. “Shit!”
YASSSSSS DRIVER STEEB
A choked sound got Tony’s attention. He approached cautiously not wanting to set
Barton off if the archer had found some sort of equilibrium.Knowing that the drugs opened up the victim to visual
and auditory hallucinations, Tony didn’t even bother calling out to Clint to
announce his presence. Chances were too
high that his voice would get lost among the clamor Barton was trying to defend
himself against.They’re quiet for a few minutes, sipping at wine and watching the fire in amiable silence. But it’s not long before Bucky opens his mouth again. “So I’ve gotta ask – “
Before he can say anything else he’s cut off by twin groans from Steve and Darcy. When he looks over he can see that Steve’s eyes are squeezed shut, that little wrinkle between his eyebrows standing out against his skin. “It’s been a very long couple of weeks,” Steve says, sighing.
“These stockings are real silk, aren’t they?”
She had a mouthful of wine, and his hand was on her thigh, his fingertips just under the hem of her dress. She met his eyes, caught off guard by his speaking, and there it was, that look she’d seen him give other women: The not-quite-smile, the laser focus of intensely blue eyes. Yes, it was quite stunning, directed at oneself. She swallowed, smiled, started to answer; Eliot’s smile widened, and his fingers crept just a little further.
“Real soft. But I bet your skin is softer.”
He prefers this to
meeting at a bar or restaurant, not because he’s afraid of being mobbed, but because
he’s a California kid who “loves this town but hates this fucking weather.”At first glance, he’s
the kind of guy you’d think picked up a guitar because it was the only way he
could ever meet girls, but spend a few minutes in his presence and you see that
he floats around in a cloud of dark charisma.
Not the kind born from being charming or well-spoken–to be frank, he is
neither of those things—but there is a draw, nonetheless, one that has
attracted scores of girls to his band’s music.“Can I help?” Finn asked.
Kes looked him over. “You know anything about mending fences?”
Finn looked like he was going to lie. He was about the worst liar that Poe had ever met and should really just give up trying altogether. Poe decided to spare him the trouble. “He can hold things in place,” he said. “We could use another pair of hands, right?”
“Please, Watson,” he said, not harshly, per se, but not at all gently. “Give me a few minutes alone here, would you? I expect there is a toolshed or similar structure in the small garden behind the building. Go down and have a look. Make note of anything that seems out of the ordinary.”
“I… yes, of course, Holmes,” Watson said, of a mind to argue at first, but letting it go at the knowledge that this was an old friend of Holmes’ and he could very well simply want a few moments to bid that old friend a final, private adieu. “Will you come down in a while or shall I return?”
“I’ll come down; await me there,” Holmes told him with a single nod before turning toward the body once more. As Watson reached the doorway, he was certain he heard Holmes say, in a small, sad voice, “Oh, Vic, you idiot.”
some original fic. this story has been kicking ass since before xmas and i finally figured out the narrator and the tense and all that.
He thought, before, if they’d ever had sex, that it would be fast. Explosive and all-consuming, burning hot and bright to be snuffed out just as quickly in a sweaty mess, but, to his surprise, Belle’s forwardness disappeared once it came time to take her shirt off and an uncharacteristic shyness took over.
It wasn’t feigned — Gold thought he knew Belle well enough by now to know when she was faking or not, at least when it came to her sexuality. Belle was bold and brash and knew what she wanted and, now, to see her curl up into herself was disconcerting.
He, gently ran his hands up and down her arms. She was shivering, but, then, so was he. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked, barely above a whisper. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
(this is more than 3, I don’t care)
“D’you take requests?” she called up to the lanky form slouching against the balcony railing.
“Depends,” the Doctor replied without turning. "If it’s ‘Mysterious Girl’ I would rather take an icepick to my eardrums, thanks.“
Clara giggled. "Oh, no danger. I can’t contend with another clockwork squirrel. You’ve already made six, I think they’re learning to communicate with each other.”
“Dangers of sentient doo-dads, I’m afraid.” He huffed, shoving himself off the railing. "What’ll it be, then?“
“There is no problem,” Clara said, and met his eyes. Mistake. Those eyes, bright and level made her breathing come from deep inside hr. He stood very still as the blood rose in her face, and she said, “I’m fine,” but it came out faintly, on a breath, and the moment stretched out into a hot empty eternity before he shook his head.
“Hell.”
He stepped toward her, and something gave inside her and she met him halfway, in the middle of the Tardis console room, clutching at his shoulders as he slid his hand around her waist, bumping noses with him as went up on her toes and he bent down, and finally, finally, tasting him as his mouth found hers.
say you love me 