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hard-core-super-star · 8 months

Note

Hello! How are you doing?

Is it okay if I request Hailee Steinfeld x female reader with cold heated(reader) x sunshine(Hailee). Like, where the reader has the soft spot for the actress?

with friends like you, who needs friends? [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: you had always said relationships weren't for you but a certain brunette seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

warnings: party + alcohol = drunk hailee; R doesn't drink, they just get to watch the chaos unfold; one (1) makeout session; hailee's puppy-dog eyes [yes, they need a warning]

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: this is basically just black cat gf x golden retriever gf so do with that information what you will. hailee's a little bit kate bishop coded in this one but shhh.

* * * * * * *

Was there anything worse than being forced to come to a party you didn’t want to be at? Turns out the answer is yes. Somehow, your friends had all decided to team up against you to turn tonight into an absolute mess.

Okay, maybe you were being dramatic but with good reason.

Your friends had found out about the significant Hailee-shaped soft spot in your usually impenetrable heart and they had chosen tonight to force the evidence out of you. The worst part of the whole ordeal is the fact that the party was technically your idea.

You had jokingly told Hailee she ought to hold more parties considering how gorgeous her house is and she wasted no time in planning one. There was quite literally no reason for the shindig you had been forced to come to but no one seemed to mind. No one except you.

Although you slowly stopped being such a grump about it the more you saw a certain brunette smile.

Unfortunately, your shift from annoyance to heart-eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends who keep sending you knowing looks every time you slip away from them to talk to an increasingly unsober Hailee. You had never been the type to feel protective over the people in your life but clearly, she’s the exception to most of your rules.

Including your rule against relationships.

“y/n!” Hailee’s voice greets you the second you step into her kitchen. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you!”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from teasing her for the noticeable slur to her words. “I’ve been in the same spot all night, Haiz.”

She makes a face at the nickname. Her disdain for you calling her had been made obvious a few weeks ago but you still didn't understand it. She seems to love it when people call her Haiz, why are you the exception?

“You've been moping on my couch since the party started,” she half-complains, half-informs.

“I'm not the party type,” you reply with a shrug. “And I'm not moping.”

“Then why do you have that look on your face?”

You raise an eyebrow in response which prompts the brunette to attempt to recreate your ‘moping’ look. You’re not sure if she’s trying to make you smile or if she’s making fun of you but you quickly realize you don’t really mind either way. Especially considering how cute she looks with that exaggerated pout on her face.

“I look nothing like that,” you say, the smallest of smiles grazing your face.

She shrugs. “True but I made you smile.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re the one with the crush.”

Your face heats up a noticeable amount, at least, that’s what the smirk Hailee wears tells you. You’re not one to be outmatched though so you do your best to recover. “I think you’ve got that backward, darling.”

Your hands grip her waist and you gently guide her backward until she’s trapped between you and a counter. You stare at her, waiting for the clever comeback that never comes. You worry you’ve crossed some invisible boundary when she practically lunges forward to press her lips to yours.

The action catches you off guard but you quickly recover, stepping closer and pulling her flush against you. It’s not the first time you’ve both gotten lost in each other but it leaves you breathless and trembling all the same. You never thought a kiss could make you question so many things about who you are and what you want yet here you are.

You had always swore off love and relationships and all the stuff that makes most people’s stomach flutter in ridiculous ways. You didn’t want any of that. At least, not until Hailee kissed you for the first time which turned into a second time which turned into many, many, more times. Times that left you wondering why the hell you’re so hellbent on not asking her out.

Right now is another one of those times.

You hold back a groan as Hailee bites down on your lower lip, a silent signal to get out of your head and back into the real world. You’re happy to oblige with her wish.

You part from her wine-stained lips long enough to help hoist her onto the counter you were so happily pinning her against. Her arms go around you in an instant, pulling you between her legs and holding you there as you lean in for another kiss.

You’re well aware of all the reasons why you shouldn’t be making out in her kitchen but they fade to nothing the longer she holds you close.

You’re forced to pull away when your lungs start burning from the lack of air. The tiniest, and most adorable, of pouts crosses Hailee’s face and you find yourself peppering kisses across her face to make her laugh. Your strategy works a little too well and soon the only sound you can hear is her.

You almost forget where you are until the sound of playful whistles and hollers fills your ears. You roll your eyes at the intrusion and reluctantly step away from the brunette, turning around to find Eiza, Billie, and Ella as the culprits. You can’t say you’re surprised.

“Oh no, don’t let us ruin the moment,” Ella says with a laugh. “You looked quite cozy, love.”

“This is why I never visit you when I’m in New York,” you reply, falling back into your usual, more aloof, personality.

“Guys, guys, she’s blushing!” Billie joins in. “I’ve never seen our resident heartbreaker blush before.”

You decide not to reply, knowing whatever you say will just be fuel for the fire of their teasing remarks. While you understand their jokes are coming from a good place, they get annoying quickly so you shoot Hailee a brief look before stepping out of the kitchen and finding your way back to your ‘moping’ spot.

Your peace doesn’t last long, however, and soon you’re joined on the couch by the four people you left behind. You can’t really complain considering the way Hailee curls up against your side.

You wrap a protective arm around her, ready to spring to action the moment she feels sick due to all the drinks in her system. She swears she’s ‘just tipsy’ but she very clearly chugged a few drinks in the moments before she joined you on the couch. It’s especially noticeable in the way she literally clings to you…not that you mind.

You sort of follow the conversation that flows easily between the friend group but you quickly realize Hailee’s been staring at you for the past few minutes. You turn your head slightly to face before you speak. “You okay, Haiz?”

There’s that look again. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“Why?” You find yourself asking, the rest of the party falling to the background.

“Because everyone calls me that.” The slur in her words becomes a bit more obvious this time. “And you’re…special. I want to be special to you.”

A part of you is aware that she’s just drunk and she probably doesn’t even know what she’s saying right now but the vulnerable glint in her eyes melts you all the same. “Hey, you are special to me. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

“But you don’t want me,” she argues.

“Who told you that?”

“You. You don’t date anyone. Not even me.”

Her words tug at your heart, mainly because she’s not wrong. You had told her that during your first night out together and pretended you didn’t notice the way her smile fell when you made it clear you weren’t looking for anything serious. A lot has changed since then, though, and suddenly the thought of being in a relationship doesn’t seem so bad.

“What if I told you I changed my mind?”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, y/n.”

“I’m not lying.”

A few moments pass while her eyes scan your face almost as if she’s searching for signs of trickery in your features. The most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen lights up her face once she realizes you’re serious.

In an instant, she leans in toward you and you force yourself to pull back. Her eyes open when she realizes you moved away, her adorable pout making a comeback. There’s a silent question in her features you do your best to answer.

“Babe, trust me, I would love to kiss you but there’s no way you’re going to remember most of this tomorrow.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“I know, you’re ‘just tipsy’ but still.” You reach up and run a hand through her hair. “My mind is made up.”

“You do know we’ve kissed before, right?”

“Are you going to spend the rest of the night complaining?” You ask, your tone more playful than annoyed. “I can just go home if you want.”

You don’t make any move to stand up but Hailee reacts as if you had pushed her off of you. She wraps her arms around your waist and practically buries her face in your neck. All you can do is chuckle and pull her closer to silently reassure her you’re not leaving.

You might be forced to endure more of your friends teasing you about how soft you are with the brunette but you don't care. You don't need anything else as long as you've got Hailee. And you know the same can be said for her.

#hailee steinfield x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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gingerjolover · 5 months

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Untitled Angst Fic - Part 1

Naomi Mcpherson (MUNA) x reader (soft!gf coded)

pls give me a title

read the preface here!

Synposis: Naomi is too busy working on the album to listen to thjeir gf and she's had enough :(

G's notes: come get y'alls juice!!! (also im sure naomi is a great partner this is RPF don't come for meeeee)

Wc: ????

Warnings: RPF, angst, fighting, mean!naomi, negligent!naomi, producer!naomi, leaving?, no fundamental physical descriptors, reader is soft!gf coded so she/her pronouns/afab?

It's been 6 hours since you left the house. LA traffic doing wonders for you, listening to angry music, twirling the engagement ring on your left hand anxiously followed by a quick vent sesh with the mom-to-be (and bless her since she's got so much more to worry about besides your relationship). Despite the time away, parking in the driveway puts a frown on your face, not sure what you'll face when you get inside.

As soon as you walk in, it's almost like you never left. Naomi sits on their laptop, albeit in a different place than when you left this morning, the doors to their office wide open. There's soft music playing from the speakers, their torso covered in a shirt and despite their comment about not needing to be dressed in their house to work, some dickies pants cover their legs.

"C'mere...hi, I missed you, hm?" you say sweetly to your dog and cat, both animals clearly starved for attention and affection.

Naomi perks up a little, watching you squat down to greet your fur-children, a small smile on their face gets wiped off when they remembered how pissy you were when you left, and how long were you gone anyway.

"Missed you too," Naomi mumbles sarcastically, as if greeting your pets meant negating them. Their fingers move quickly over the keys, eyes never leaving the screen as they begin to talk.

"...Sooo, are we gonna talk about it? Or are we just going to pretend that whatever happened this morning didn't happen?" Naomi asks, eyes fixated on the work in front of them.

There's something so deeply offensive the way that Naomi delivers the question, not even being able to see their eyes feels like they asked it because they should, not because they wanted to. All you can do is roll your eyes, sighing softly as you put your bag down on the dining room table, ignoring Naomi's question as you walk into the kitchen.

Naomi's eyes quickly flit to the edge of their laptop, seeing you walk away. They mimic you, rolling their eyes, sighing deeply as they look back to their screen. "Guess we're pretending it never happened, got it," they mumble sarcastically to themselves. "I can be petty too, I'm just gonna mind my own business then, it's immature to give me the silent treatment so I'll just let you do your thing," they mumble venomously, their words send a chill up your spine, tears welling in the corners of your eyes.

You sniffle softly, wondering if the flames moving up the walls are even present in Naomi's mind. The energy in the house has been off for weeks, your anxiety and Naomi's attitude taking turns twisting the muscles in your chest until the house feels like its on fire and you're inhaling straight smoke.

You wipe your eyes, slipping on walking shoes before grabbing the leash. Your sweet chunk of a dog sits politely in front of you, wagging his nubby tail as he sees the leash in your hands. "Let's get you outside, yeah? Hm? Wanna go on a walk with mama?" you whisper softly, rubbing his ears when he sits so good for you while you attach the leash.

Naomi hears the click of the leash to the collar and stops typing, looking up at you. "Where are you going?" they ask, emphasizing their annoyance, ignoring the redness in your eyes.

"On a walk? Since you couldn't be bothered to get off the computer," you mutter back in a snarky tone, grabbing the poop bags and your water bottle.

"He went out twice today, I'm not- whatever," Naomi scoffs, turning back to their laptop.

"Might as well take the cat too," Naomi mutters, like it was a stroke of genius.

It takes everything in you not to shut the laptop on their hands and yell "fuck off". But you bite your tongue, wiping your eyes again and open the door, getting the dog outside and slamming the door.

"Well that was dramatic," Naomi mumbles, their eyes flicking over to the front door after it slams, feeling a little bad that you slammed the door. They allow themselves to feel annoyed again when they remember that you implied that they didn't take care of your dog all day.

The time moves quickly, within half an hour, worry starts to creep up Naomi's neck. It's going to get dark soon and you don't live in a busy or unsafe neighborhood but you're taking longer than you normally would alone.

"Where are you?" Naomi texts, checking your location, finding it unable to load.

15 minutes later you walk into the house, having to sit on the curb half a mile away just to cry, wondering if this is a prolonged ending to your relationship.

Naomi can tell you've been crying, that same worry crawling back up their neck as they look at your glassy eyes, cheeks flushed.

"Sit Bruno...good boy," you say softly, taking the leash off of his collar, hanging it up in the hallway before moving to the kitchen to fill his water bowl.

Bruno's paws tap across the tile floor, Naomi smiling softly as they type on the computer. "Hey," they call out, position unchanged. "Did you get lost?" they ask, feigning ignorance.

"No, we went on a walk, I said that when we left," you huff, toeing off your shoes.

"Okay yeah but you took twice as long as you normally do," Naomi says, finally looking up at you with a slight frown, waiting for an explanation.

"Okay? Sue me Naomi, I don't know what you want me to say, we went on a longer walk," you explain exasperated, throwing your arms up.

"You know what, fine, don't tell me," they say, looking back towards the laptop, typing away again.

There's a beat of silence, your eyes widen at their quick dismissal.

"Is what you're doing really more important than me?" you ask suddenly, eyes staring wide at Naomi, flooding with hurt.

Naomi looks up, slightly annoyed at the question. "No?" they say, voice sounding resigned. They sigh loudly, "Fine, you can have my attention," they say looking up. "Now, where have you been?" they ask, eyes stern.

"God, you're... forget it Naomi," you say, tone going from livid to defeated in 5 words. You shake your head, walking up the stairs, heading to the shower.

Naomi just shakes their head, rolling their eyes at the dramatics of it all. But as they sit there, the clock ticking, Bruno's collar jingling as he scratches, the scratching the cat is doing on the cat tree, and the faint water running - Naomi sighs again, a shame creeping up their neck at their own stubbornness.

When Naomi saves their work and finally makes it upstairs, they linger near the ensuite door, heart cracking at the sounds of your sobs hidden between a stream of hot water.

"Baby," the say quietly, knocking on the door lightly.

The crying stops immediately, almost like you were trying to get your voice back to normal.

"What?" you ask, and it comes out harsh. Honestly, could've come down harsher if your voice wasn't thick with emotion.

"I'm- I'm sorry, I've been a total... dick today," Naomi says, tone slightly defeated and aware. "Can I come in?" they ask. And the question hangs, like a rancid herb, drying between the two of you. And Naomi is met with sternness.

"No."

"Can I at least talk to you?" Naomi asks, temple resting against the door. They feel ashamed for how they've acted, replaying the interactions with you over and over in their mind.

"You can't wait til I'm done?" you ask, because the absolute audacity of Naomi to interrupt a shower cry.

"I want to talk about it now, when it's still fresh," they speak through the door. "I'm not gonna wait in the hallway for you to finish showering," they say with annoyance and disdain. The rational part of Naomi that realizes you can't have a productive talk while you're in the shower and that cornering you like this was a mistake can't come to the phone right now because they don't even exist.

"Well considering I'm always waiting on you to have conversations, I think you can wait until i rinse the conditioner out of my hair," you spit out in a snarky tone.

"What? I'm not always making you wait on me," Naomi says, incredulously at such an implication.

"Oh my god, can you let me shower?" you practically exclaim, exasperated beyond belief.

"Fine, jeez," Naomi mutters, rolling their eyes and moving to the edge of the bed, taking out their phone. It's only a few minutes later that Katie, Jo, and some of the MUNA team get on a joint call, Naomi pacing back and forth in the bedroom while listening and giving updates on the production.

When you open the bathroom door wrapped in a towel, its disappointing but not at all surprising to hear Naomi on the phone, passionately giving updates about the production they've been working on. At this point you're done, what else can you do? People could say you're being difficult but what's so difficult about asking to be left alone in the shower and then expecting your partner to be ready to speak when you get out?

You move quickly towards the walk in closet, Naomi frowning when they see the lack of fire in your eyes, nervous about what it means that you're no longer angry. Their voice falters, trying to finish their thought concisely as they watch your shoulders sag, walking towards the dresser.

"So I should have it done- um..." Naomi's words trail off, watching you slide sweatpants up your legs, picking out one of your own oversized shirts and not theirs. "Look, can I... call you guys back? Or I'll send an email, it'll be easier.... yeah thanks, talk soon," Naomi speaks, hanging up the phone while their eyes bore into your back.

Naomi leans against the doorway of the closet, staring at your wet hair dripping on the carpet as they push their phone into a pocket.

"Are you going to talk to me?" Naomi asks, they ask, watching you towel dry your hair.

"Do you have the time to talk?" you respond, tone almost sassy, flickered with annoyance.

Naomi frowns, rolling their eyes softly. "I just got off my phone call so we could talk," they say like it was a huge sacrifice. "...are you implying I'm always busy?" they ask offended.

"Oh yeah, how noble of you," you scoff. "I'm not implying it, I'm saying it out loud. We barely talk since your eyes are glued to your computer or phone, locked away in your office all day and night."

There's that same shame, realizing that they haven't been as present lately, trying to downplay it in their mind. "Babe, I- you know I can't do everything at once... we have a deadline... there's work I have to get done..." they trail off, realizing the poor excuse for prioritization over your feelings but trying to justify it for fear of being in the wrong.

"Then go get you work done Naomi," you mumble, pushing past them to go into the bedroom.

Your dismissal drives Naomi crazy, shaking their head at your ability to walk away when a conversation is clearly needed.

"Since you don't want to talk it out, fine, be that way," Naomi mutters angrily, walking out of the bedroom and downstairs to their office. Grabbing their laptop and beckoning the dog inside, they slam the french doors to their office shut.

The slam of the doors is followed by your head dropping, hands on the nightstand as you try and breathe through your diaphragm, willing any air to get to your lungs, the tightness in your chest unbearable.

It's like functioning on autopilot. A quick text to Kelli, the pull of your duffle from the closet, a moment of contemplation over your ring dish if the rock on you finger is worth dragging out, and the shoving of clothes and toiletries into the bag, the final zip like a punch in the mouth.

The silence is deafening, staring at the bag at your feet. Texts from Kelli pull you out of the haze, slipping on socks before quietly padding down the stairs.

It almost feels normal. Hair still wet from the shower, opening the pantry to fill the animal's bowls, refreshing their water. Except you don't start cooking, Naomi doesn't pinch your ass and wrap their arms around your shoulders, cold fingers don't rub the warm skin of your hips, chapped lips don't cover the skin behind your ear in kisses.

Instead you grab the bag, slipping on shoes, taking your keys off the hook and look to the french doors of Naomi's office. Their shoulders are tense, hunched over in their chair. To the bottom left, your cat and dog sit, almost like statues. You wonder if they know what's happening... if they can sense the end before you can.

Slamming the door feels final, but you know its a signal. Its the begging for attention you're too prideful to do yourself. Your ring weighs you down as you walk to the car, eyes unfocused.

G's notes: there will be a part 2 and 3 pls do not fear

#naomi mcpherson x reader #muna x reader #muna angst #naomi mcpherson angst #sooooo #how yall doin

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kdkj122920 · 1 year

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True love happens once

i do hope you guys have a great valentine's day because i sure didn't lol my crush got a gf anywyas

Warnings: nothing because you all know how I do this stuff 😻 also not proof read and uh edited

---

König's life has been spent mostly in solitude if he wasn't on duty. He'd wake up at 4 am, made himself breakfast and washes himself with a simple routine. He'd never actually talked to his neighbors, never greeted nor even go outside when he knows they were lurking outside. He find it endearing and comfortable, and he was sure he didn't want to change it for anything. Until you, came however.

The normal days spent in solitude was changed with the comforting presence of you beside him everytime he wakes up, the normal lonely brushing teeth and face washing became a fun playing time for the both of you, ending up in a mess of face wash foam all over your forehead and noses he'd always let out a chortle, the one where his peers had bullied him for but you've always found it an endearing thing of his.

On Valentines day, hed spent hours carving wood like what is dad and grandpa had taught him, time creating forms of animals he'd know you like. Cats, dogs, birds you name it. He'd pick the best and fresh flowers in the garden for you to enjoy, setting up a nice dinner for the both of you.

Even if König was never the one to enjoy lavish dates outside of his comfort zone, he will always try his best to make it the best for the both of you to enjoy

#könig x reader #könig mw2 #König codmw2

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ynscrazylife · 3 years

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Hi again! I don't really know if you want to write this request (most people don't like brutasha) but could you write (only if you want to) after AoU (Bruce didn't disappear) he decides to introduce Natasha (his gf) to his teen daughter (reader)? Idk, some platonic! Nat x reader and they trying to bond.

Honestly I don’t really ship Brutasha but I’m cool with this!

Step-Mom

Summary: After Avengers: Age of Ultron, Bruce Banner (Hulk) and Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) are dating. Bruce decides to introduce Natasha to his daughter, Y/N, and the woman and the teenager start to bond. By the end, Y/B is begging Bruce to make Natasha her step-mom.

Y/N Banner was the teenage daughter of Bruce Banner and his ex-girlfriend (before he became Hulk). Her parents had shared custody of her - Y/N living with her father for a week every other week. While Y/N did know her father was the Hulk and was an Avenger, she hadn’t known her father was in a relationship. Safe to say, when she found out, she was excited, and even more excited as in this very moment, her father was bringing over his girlfriend to introduce the two.

She was sitting in her room now, thinking about who the woman would be. A doctor like her dad? Maybe she was a SHIELD Agents - or maybe she was a completely ordinary woman. Well, Y/N’s wonderings were cut off when she heard the noise of the key turning and the door opening.

Immediately, Y/N leapt up and ran to meet her father and -

Black Widow??

Holy crap. Y/N stared in awe. Her father was dating Natasha Romanoff, another Avenger, and Y/N’s favorite superhero (don’t tell her dad).

“Hi Y/N,” Bruce greeted with a chuckle, seeing his daughter’s flabbergasted face. Natasha joined in with his laugh.

“How the - you’re dating Black Widow?” Y/N asked her dad, looking back-and-forth between the redhead and the brunette.

Bruce glanced at Natasha. “Yes, I am . . . You say that with such an overwhelming amount of shock,” he joked, feigning hurt.

Y/N blinked and composed herself, walking towards the two adults until she tripped over mid-air.

“She’s adorable,” Natasha whispered to Bruce before speaking louder to Y/N. “I’m Natasha, but you can just call me Nat.”

Y/N nodded. “O-okay. I’m Y/N,” she said, and then promptly stuck her hand out.

Natasha chuckled before shaking her hand.

“Why don’t you two get to know each other while I make lunch?” Bruce suggested, looking first at his girlfriend and then at his daughter.

“Sounds great!” Natasha said, before her attention focused on Y/N. “Can you show me your room?”

Y/N nodded and marched off, her heart racing. She led the spy into her room, which was covered with Avengers posters, most notably her dad, and other bands and pop-stars.

“I love your room,” Natasha observed, making Y/N smile as she closed her bedroom door.

“Don’t tell my dad, but you’re my favorite Avenger,” Y/N whispered, making the other woman laugh.

“I’m flattered,” Natasha said, before placing herself on the teenager’s bed. “Tell me about yourself.”

Y/N thought a bit before sitting next to Natasha. “Well, if my dad asks, I’m not dating. He’s always on me about that stuff. Ummmm, I love cats and dogs! Can’t choose between them. Oh, and I want to help people, like my dad, but I’m not that good with science. I’ve actually been wanting to maybe become involved with SHIELD . . . Until it sorta fell,” she said, not really sure how to explain herself.

“Sometimes I get . . . Worried about my dad. He’s hard on himself, and I worry that he’s going to get hurt or something. I know I have my mom, but she’s not too fond of him being an Avenger either, and she can be a little cold,” Y/N admitted.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t be unloading this stuff. It’s just that . . . You’re the first adult I can really talk to about this stuff. My friends help but they usually want autographs from the Avengers, and I had one friend only friends with me because of that.” Y/N stopped, realizing she was rambling on.

“Oh, no, honey, it’s fine!” Natasha quickly assured, and placed an arm around Y/N. “I know telling you not to worry about dad doesn’t really help, yeah? But honestly, he rarely gets injured injured, you know? He usually patches up the rest of us.”

Y/N nodded with a slight smile, feeling a little better.

“And that friend who was only friends with you for the autograph? They suck. You deserve so much better than that,” Natasha added, hugging her.

“Thanks,” Y/N said a little quietly.

“Well, I have a best friend named Clint, and I used to be a SHIELD agent. I’ve had a rough past, but your dad has really helped me turn it around and recognize self-love,” Natasha said.

The two continued to laugh and talk for the next fifteen minutes. Y/N told her what was going on in her life (insert whatever’s going on in your life here), and Natasha was able to comfort her, give her advice, and talk to her. In turn, Y/N inquired about Natasha’s life and about her dad, as it was sometimes hard to talk to him or know things about him with him being an Avenger.

It was then that Y/N got the idea to play a board game. They continued to play that until Y/N won, and suddenly she excused herself from the room.

“Dad,” she said, running into the kitchen. Her dad turned around from the kitchen counter. “You need to marry Natasha! Like, seriously. She’s AWESOME and she would be a great step-mom! Please, please, please.”

Bruce laughed, and then looked over his shoulder, spotting Natasha. Y/N turned around. She was grinning.

“Yeah, Banner,” she agreed with a smirk. “When are you gonna propose?”

Y/N squealed.

“You know, little Banner,” Natasha said, looking down at Y/N. “You make me laugh. Not too many people can do that. You’re great.”

Y/N had the biggest grin throughout the day, where she spent it eating with her dad and Natasha and talking until sunset.

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 5 years

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Grateful

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Story with smut, M/F/M, no stucky. Oral sex. OVER 18 ONLY

A/N: 4K Commission for: @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester

Summary: You are feeling inadequate in your relationship with Steve and Bucky.

The coffee shop was busy as you navigated through the small afternoon crowd to get to the display of muffins, stomach growling for something blueberry or chocolate- maybe both if they did that. You reached the display and bent down, eyes beckoning back and forth between the blueberry and chocolate chips. Deciding it was a self love day, you opted for both and wait your turn patiently in line. It smelled like brewing coffee and baking goods, and when your turn was up, your cell phone started to ring. Quickly, you ordered the two muffins and coffee, before handing over your debit card and scrambling to pick it up.

It was Bucky and you smiled as you said hello. “Did you guys just get back?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, he sounded a bit tired but his voice warm.

“You sound tired, are you headed to the apartment?”

After a quick briefing with the team he said. He mentioned picking up take out on his way home and when you asked if Steve was around, he handed over the cell to his friend. Steve’s voice was warm and steady, he asked how you were and if you missed him. The café had become loud and you tried to whisper that you did, but he said he could not hear you and you laughed.

“Of course, I missed you, I always miss the two of you.”

“Good, we’ll be home soon,” he promised, excusing himself. “The meeting is started, see you soon, honey.”

The two of you hung up just in time for your order to be called – leaving a tip, you gathered the coffee and bag of muffins, claiming a spot at a table near the large bay windows. The weather was becoming warmer, summer was just around the corner and the thought of less layering made you sad; you loved the jackets and scarves, not to mention Bucky and Steve both looked great in wool winter coats. Bucky in a black one, while Steve opted for a dark blue coat.

Relaxing in the seat, you took a sip from the coffee and eased into your daily social media feed, scrolling through photos and alternating between the blueberry and chocolate muffins. Nothing out of the ordinary, except you had been tagged in a photo by Steve, who had posted it this morning. Clicking on the notification, you saw that he had taken an aerial photo of the city, must have been from the quinjet. You were tagged in the corner of the photo and the captioned read: Finally coming home to my girl.

It was sweet and it made you smile, Steve was such a romantic and your relationship with him was public – the thing the public did not know, and only the people close to you did, was that Bucky was also in the mix. It had happened organically over a course of two years, it started off as mutual friendship after you were hired to work with the Avengers on PR stuff and media control. You had to conduct interviews with each of the members to get a feel of their character, Steve was a bit apprehensive at first but the two of you hit it off rather quickly. You had a pretty easy-going sense of humor and Steve could not resist but Bucky on the other hand was a different story.

He was stoic and shy, so you asked him to meet you outside the facility for the interview – you picked a stop near the lake and just talked to him, mostly asking one layer questions until he opened up more and things started to meld after that. The two men sought your company, especially since you practically lived at the facility – damage control was a constant need, but slowly you turned into almost like an assistant to the Avengers. You helped them normalize their lives, they were superheroes, but the media acted like they were celebrities – gossip and tabloids were constantly coming up with stories about them that were untrue. It was your job to paint them in a colorful light – not that that was hard.

Enjoying your muffin, you clicked on the comments and smiled at all the positive greetings, welcoming Steve back to the city, but the further you scrolled down, it seemed the more negative. Just like a celebrity, huh? The good and bad things people will say, Steve had tough skin, but you did not. There were mountains of comments on how Steve could do way better which you could only assume was from people who had clicked on your profile – it was private, but your profile photo still showed. It was a typical posing photo taken outside a bar Steve, Bucky and you frequent. Bucky had taken it and told you to pose with your hand so your hip, you did, and he liked it so much he had a wallet size print of it on the dashboard of his car – the man adored you.

Yet, people were cruel and you were dating two gorgeous men (although they only knew about one of them), and people were quick to point out all your flaws; you were not skinny enough, tall enough and did not live up to the male gaze standard society pushed. It hurt, even though you wish it had not.

Sighing, you closed the app and tried to focus on the two muffins waiting to be consumed – except now, you were not feeling so hungry. Gazing around the café, you could not stop from comparing yourself to all the women walking around. Feeling insecure, and hating it, you quickly packed up and left – hailing a cab back to the apartment.

When you got home, the apartment was quiet; it was a two bedroom layout that was nestled in the middle of Brooklyn – a place you found to help Steve and Bucky feel at home, and also a place for the three of you to escape from the facility. Most nights the three of you shared a bed but occasionally Bucky would become sleepless and have nightmares, so he requested his own room for those times. But ever since friendship turned into something more, those nightmares were few and far.

“Parker,” you cooed out, closing the door behind as you walked into the apartment – it was quiet until you heard the pitter pattering of small paws on the wood. It was Parker, the orange cat Bucky and you adopted. Steve was more of a dog person, but it did not take much convincing once Parker was home.

“Hey, buddy.”

You kneeled and started to pet him, ignoring the buzzing on your cell – the whole cab ride home you were getting tagged in photos that paparazzi had taken of Steve and you over the last year. Again, superheroes were treated like celebrities and were followed around, even when they were trying to be normal – therefore you understood why Bucky stayed out of the public. Steve, well, everyone knew who he was in and out of the suit – so he learned to tolerate the photo stalking, although he was known to give a stern look here and there.

“Come, Parker, let’s get you some food.”

The cat followed you to the kitchen and meowed as you took out his food, following you to his food dish. As you fed him, your cell buzzed again, so you gave in and walked over to the kitchen counter. It was a text from Bucky, saying the meeting was running later than he anticipated and the two would be home soon with food. You wanted to reply but you had an itch to go back on Instagram, so you did.

Boy, you wish you hadn’t.

Twenty minutes later, you were on the couch in the living scrolling through countless photos of Steve and you, and a few of Bucky. There were posts dedicated to the notion that Steve Rogers aka Captain America would ever date someone like you – someone who was short and curvy (not that false curvy that was just ass and boobs). You were not a Victoria's Secret model, let’s just put it that way and while you were perfectly fine with your body, people could be hurtful with their words. Especially when they could hide behind a screen.

There was a photo in particular that someone had taken of Bucky and you in a coffee shop, the two of you lingering near a window somewhere in Brooklyn – he was smiling at you, the one he often saved for you, real sincere and quiet, if a smile could be quiet. You were holding a coffee and smiling right back at him, and the comments were cruel.

He must be faking that smile; he has to put up with his teammate’s girlfriend.

She’s basic AF

HOW IS THIS CAP’S GF??

You remembered that day, it had been the first time in weeks that Bucky had decided to venture outside the block of your apartment. He asked if you would occupancy him to get some coffee and Steve urged you to go, kissing you goodbye on the forehead as he held Parker in his arms. That day, Buck dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, black glove on his left hand. He quietly pointed out places he knew back when he was a kid, noting how much things had and hadn’t changed. You listened contently and when you were inside the café, he told you he loved you – it was the first time he had said it since the three of you all moved in together and he mentioned how much he wanted to kiss you but what would the world think about him kissing Captain America’s girl?

“I’m your girl too, James.”

He smiled then and you smiled back at him, then he noticed a woman taking a photo from outside the café window.

You sat up on the couch and glared at the screen in your hand – Steve always said not to get carried away with the negativity and even offered to take down his social media. A part of you wanted him to, but you knew it made him feel connected to the world, so you said it was okay. Turning off the cell, you placed it on the coffee table adjacent to the couch and laid down. Your hand ran over your stomach, poking at the pockets of fat under your shirt and sighed thinking about how perfect Bucky and Steve’s bodies were – perfectly sculptured works of art. It made you feel unworthy and you didn’t like that feeling, so you decided to just sleep until two arrived.

…

“She’s not answering my texts, maybe she fell asleep.”

“Natasha just texted me, she’s been fighting with people on your photo again.”

Steve frowned and searched for his cell, Bucky watching as they waited for the elevator door to open. The latter was holding take out from the Chinese place you loved so much while Steve’s eyebrows scrunched as he read over what was happening on his last post.

“What the hell is wrong with people, Buck?”

“They’ve always been the same, nothing’s changed much, has it?”

Steve sighed and followed Bucky into the elevator, and when the doors closed, he looked over to his best friend. “I hate bullies.”

Parker met the pair in the small foyer of their apartment, the cat purred and rubbed against each of their leg before Bucky picked him up and followed Steve further into the apartment. They saw you sleeping on the couch, Steve sat on the coffee table and picked up your cell when it began to buzz. Bucky gave him a look as he tapped on the Instagram notification and saw that you were being tagged in awful posts. It made him angry and Bucky didn’t have to look to understand, instead he walked around the couch to you and sat on the edge, effortlessly shifting your body. He reached down to touch your face and he smiled, looking at Steve.

“It’s good to be home.”

Steve grinned. “Especially when we have her to come home to. I got to say Buck, ever since we made the move in with her, things have never felt better.”

“Agreed.”

Bucky looked down at you, Parker still in his arms, and leaned forward to kiss your cheek, his lips on your skin stirred you awake. You jumped up in surprise. He grinned as you brushed back the hair from his face and looked over to Steve.

“You’re back!”

Parker jumped out of Bucky’s arms into yours and he nestled on top of your lap, purring as you petted his back. Steve asked if you were hungry and mentioned the takeout he left in the kitchen, you said no and the two exchanged glances. Steve held up your cell and apologized for tagging you in the photo.

“I should have known better; people tend to show their worst online.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not, you shouldn’t have to worry about this.”

Bucky reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. He reminded you that people didn’t know your life and that at the end of the day, it only mattered what you thought of yourself – and a little of what Steve and he thought, he said jokingly. It made you smile, his sweetness but your brain hyper focused on the result of reading all those comments – no one thought you were good enough for Steve or Bucky. No one. Both men sensed that your smile and assurance that you were fine was false, so they exchanged a knowing glance.

“You brought food, yes? I’m hungry.”

“In due time,” Steve answered, taking Parker from your lap.

You eyed him and asked what he meant, but Bucky gently grabbed you by the chin, forcing your gaze to move to him. Steve’s footsteps were heard going down the hall, and you wondered where he had gone until Bucky kissed you gently on the lips. His lips caught you by surprise, but you melted back into the couch as he pushed you down, his body hovered over yours. You could not help but groan when his tongue played against yours and his hand moved to caress the side of your face – Bucky’s reputation as the Winter Soldier was the opposite of his ways of being a lover. He was gentle and tended to your needs before his own.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered into your ear, giving the edge of your lobe a loving nip. You groaned again, gripping his shoulder with both hands as his lips moved from your ear down to your neck, where he pressed little kisses until you grasped in pleasure. “That’s my girl.”

“She’s both our girl, Buck.” Steve appeared in the room, now dressed in gray sweats and nothing else. Bucky stopped his kissing and got up from the couch, saying something about putting the takeout in the oven to keep warm. You sat up and regained your breath as Steve sat next to you on the couch – his smile was boyish, but his body was one of a man. Your eyes never could help but take him in every time he walked into a room and it always surprised you when you were the one he was walking too.

“People have nothing better to do than break down those they have no reach to.”

“Wise words, Rogers. How did you get so smart?”

He shrugged, using his arm to pull you into his side. His fingers pressed into the side of your arm and he held you tight against his body. Your throat clenched with the feel of his skin and before you could even say something smart and witty, he had you on his lap. He was fast, like that, could have you coming in seconds if he really wanted to. Mostly, he liked to take his time.

You looked down at him, his head dipped back against the couch. His blue eyes were staring up at you, like a shy schoolboy. Touching the side of his face, you asked how you got so lucky. He shook his head and kissed your hand, placing it on his bare chest.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Bring yourself down, it hurts me to hear those things from you.”

“I won’t say them anymore.”

That’s not what he meant, but he knew no matter what he or Bucky said, they needed to show you how much they love you. So, he adjusted you on his lap, your knees nestled into the cushion of the sofa. Both his hands went down to your waist and he called out to Bucky, who walked into the living room. Your heart pounded as he made his way to the couch, settling down next to his friend; his smile made you smile.

“I love you,” you whispered to him, his eyes softening with your words. He wanted you to know how special he felt when you gifted him with those words, with the light you brought into his life.

“I love you,” he mused back.

“We both love you.”

Steve pulled you down to his and kissed you passionately, his hands on your face. He whispered that you were the only one for him and no one could take that away. You felt his truth in his kisses and then you felt him hard under you, which excited you. But then he stopped kissing you, your eyes still closed when you felt Bucky pull you down to him. Your eyes opened to Bucky’s, who pulled you over his body, your back against his chest.

“We’re going to show you how much we love you,” he whispered, his fingers dancing down the front of your stomach to the waistband of the joggers you were waiting. The excitement made your toes warm as he tugged at the strings, loosening them up a bit. Steve watched as Bucky’s hand disappeared under the pants and you moaned quietly when his fingers made their way under your underwear. He touched you slowly at first, hungrily pawning at you until Steve stood up and eagerly pushed away the coffee table away from the couch. He positioned himself on the floor, kneeling in front of the couch. Bucky spread his legs, using his hands to do the same to yours after Steve pulled off your sweats and panties.

The cool air made you shudder until Steve placed both his palm on top of your thighs, as Bucky kissed your neck and his hands roamed under your shirt to your breasts. His touch was a bit rough as he pushed aside the top of your bra to get to your nipples, pinching them slightly. Your hips jerked up but you weren’t sure if it was because of Bucky or the fact that Steve’s head was now buried between your thighs, his mouth on you. It was probably both.

You moaned loudly and wiggled under Steve’s mouth, the feeling of his tongue licking you gave way to wanting him to stop and wanting him to never stop – it was so intense it almost hurt as you cried out. Your head rested against Bucky’s chest as his hold on your breast tightened. There was no control when you were with them, it was almost unfair but that thought always drifted away with every touch of their mouths and hands.

“We love you,” Bucky whispered, his teeth pulled at your earlobe and you whimpered. “You’re the only one we want, right Steve?”

He didn’t verbally answer, but his tongue lapped faster at your clit and that was enough to speak more than volumes. You called out both their names and the two men worked faster, Bucky nibbling on your neck and Steve including his fingers in the quest to finish you off. It was insanely disorienting, but that’s what their love felt to you – two large forces constantly circling you, protecting you and more often than not, guiding you to a level of happiness you could have never imagined. You loved them deeply and profoundly, it felt implicitly wrong at times, for them to feel the same way.

Yet, here they were – after a long mission and weeks of preparation for said mission. They had come home, to relax and have some form of normalcy to find you in need of comfort, and they do so without hesitation or complaint. They do it because they simply love you and had for a while now. They do what needs to be done, so you can feel love because nothing could ever be enough to show you the gratitude both felt. Gratitude towards you for choosing them both, for seeing that they needed you more than you needed them and for making space in your heart for the both of them.

“Come one, sweetheart,” Steve purred and lifted you from under, your ass in his hands as he dug deeper with his tongue, his whole mouth on you. Moaning, you felt the intensity fire up, burning away all the negative comments and remarks, the ugly thoughts and feelings of unworthiness of being the lover of Captain America and the Winter Soldier, because that wasn’t it. You were the lover of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, two guys from Brooklyn, who had kind hearts and even kinder souls. You were more than worthy of that title and no amount of hateful remarks could ever change that – you saw that now.

“I – I’m…”

The rest of the sentence disappeared into the air as the pair moved faster to satisfy you, knowing the way you loved to be touch and with that knowledge, the life time friends brought you to the edge then swiftly and delicately, pushed you off.

Your body shook uncontrollably, the air condition cooled your warm skin. Steve licked you a few times more before kissing the inside of both of your thighs. He sat back and rubbed at his chin; Bucky gave your breast a tender squeeze before releasing them. He kissed you on the cheek, removed his hands from under your shirt and pulled it down.

No words formed from your lips, so you were grateful when Bucky grabbed the throw blanket from the couch’s arm and covered your body half with it. He snuggled you against his chest, arms wrapped around your waist. Steve stood up and leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead, proclaiming he was thirsty. He disappeared into the kitchen and you smiled, body relaxed against Buck’s.

You glanced down at the coffee table and noticed that in his rush to get to you, Steve had broken the leg. “We’re going to need a new coffee table.”

Bucky chuckled. “Probably.”

Sliding off him, you laughed too and apologized for letting the social media comments get to you. “I’m the Avengers PR person, I should know better. I guess we’re all just human, mostly, anyway.”

He looked at you and smiled. “Mostly.”

“Who needs water?”

Steve walked into the living room with two glasses of water, he handed each of you one and said that the takeout was still warm, noting that he was hungry. You downed the water and asked him to pass over your discarded sweats. Putting them on, you cleared your throat and looked to both men.

“I just want to say that I’m going to really try to not let those comments bother me, it’s dumb and they don’t know our lives. You guys are right, and that’s probably the first time you’ve ever heard that in your life.”

They both laughed and you smiled, feeling better. “I just…I love you two very much and I don’t want my own negative thoughts get in the way nor do I want outside influences to mess up what we have. Agreed?”

Steve looked over to Bucky, who nodded. “Agreed.”

You clap your hands together and sighed in relief, announcing you were ready to eat. The two friends watched as you walked away from them, their eyes on you until you left the room. Bucky stretched against the couch and got up, patting Steve on the back.

“How the hell did we get this lucky, punk?”

Pure luck, that was the only answer Steve could come up with. At least, that was what he felt every time he walked into a room and saw you, and he was sure Bucky felt the same. Smiling, mostly to himself, Steve shrugged. “It beats me.”

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#steve x reader x bucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #marvel imagine #marvel

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adacarisi · 4 years

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Anon: Currently sitting in a room with my cat who is passing away. Would you mind writing about Barba who's GF has lost her longtime pet and finally breaks down to Barba about it. I have trouble showing emotion specifically grief so it often gets misread as not caring enough. But I'm handling this with difficulty. If you dont want to dont worry. Appreciate it thanks for writing so many requests I enjoy reading them.

I’m so sorry you’re going through this, it’s horrible to go through loss and not know how to process it physically or emotionally. Whatever feelings you have and however you need to express them is valid as long as you’re not self destructing or hurting others. I hope this helps a little, sorry it took so long.

The story of how you met your cat was nearly as random as how you’d met Rafael Barba. You’d been much younger and much more lonely when you’d seen that thin little kitten darting in and out of blades of tall grass as you drove down the highway. Without a thought you’d swerved off the side of the road and jumped out of your car into the pouring rain.

You ran towards where you’d seen the little animal last and managed to catch a glimpse of its shape as it began moving towards the road. You reached the cat just in time, swooping its little frail and soaking wet body into your arms. You wrapped the kitten in the hoodie you had sitting on the passengers seat and turned up the heat that earlier had been at a low hum.

The vets office wasn’t far and luckily nothing was wrong with the little kitten. The vet seemed to think that someone had thrown the young kitten from a car but somehow it was unharmed. As those watery eyes stared up at you it became clear the two of you were bound together now. It seemed only natural what followed, you took her home, went out and bought a liter box, bags of dry food and cans of wet food, even a few toys you thought she’d enjoy. The months went by and became years. Your little kitten grew and the two of you got to know each other so well. When you were sick she’d curl up next to wherever it hurt the most, sometimes next to your head and other times resting her little head on your belly.

You found that you preferred the company of your cat to people when before you’d preferred no company at all. As the years went on there were many changes but she was with you through it all, those large eyes gazing up at you in solidarity whenever you’d lost hope or faith. A few of your darkest moments were only turned by the thought of leaving her behind. Who would care for her if not you? Who would give her what she deserved and needed if not you? Would she ever forgive you for leaving her? Anyone else would say that she could easily get on without you and that someone else would care for her. But you knew better than to give into that. There were times you’d sense ailments in her before she even sensed them in herself. You knew each other so well and were perfectly content and at ease when alone with one another as the years went by.

You’d met Rafael by chance in the same weather conditions that you’d met your cat. You’d met on a rainy day in the city with the sound of squeaking breaks and the scent of exhaust permeating through the windows of the courthouse. You’d been managing to do your work just fine when he rushed up to the attorney window. You were a legal assistant for circuit criminal but rarely did you have the misfortune of having to attend to the attorney window. You’d seen him before and had written him off as another pompous attorney but on that day you’d witnessed someone far more human than you’d previously observed. He was kind and patient, even humorous. And for the first time in years you found yourself smiling and maybe even hopeful.

The two of you dated off and on for a year or so and then things became more serious. Rafael Barba seemed like he could be it, he could be the person you shared your life with. The truest test was when he met your cat. You knew she could detect any trace of evil or bullshit, she’d been right when you’d introduced her to your now ex-best friend.

“I’m not really a cat person, or dog person.” Rafael had begun to make excuses on the way up to your apartment.

“Neither was I.” You smiled, still nervous but hoping for the best.

When you opened the door to your apartment there she sat, poised and concentrated. You pulled Rafael to the couch in your living room and took a seat beside him. He seemed nervous, and he was right to be. Paw by paw she slunk around the edges of the room before leaping onto Rafael’s lap. She stretched her long body towards his face and took rapid sniffs, her whiskers trembling with her effort. Your cat took a few steps forward on his lap and stretched upwards even further before ceremoniously licking Rafael’s nose not once but twice before meowing loudly and hopping off of him to nuzzle your leg.

“She licked me.” Rafael had smiled and reached down to pet your cat who accepted the affection very willingly.

“It seems she likes you just as much as I do.” You had leaned towards him for a kiss when he’d turned towards you with a strange look on his face.

“What?” You’d asked only to be met with a look that told you you should already know what he was about to say.

“I would hope that you’d feel a little more than that for me by now.” Rafael pushed up his sleeves and you tensed.

Had you ruined this already? Emotion wasn’t easy for you, it wasn’t how you chose to express yourself. So much of your reality happened internally, a place that was safe for you to process things without bombardment or harassment. You had done your best to covey your admiration and enjoyment of Rafael through words and actions but as usual it was misread. Allowing him to meet your cat had been a massive step for you. Allowing him into your home was monumental. And yet it appeared that he couldn’t understand that.

The two of you fought that night for longer than you cared to admit. It was a fight unlike what you imagined typical couples would have. It was slow and measured, calculated statements received and returned for hours. Your cat had seemed amused at first, her eyes darting intelligently back and forth between the you and your boyfriend, but eventually she grew bored and fell asleep at Rafael’s feet. The two of you talked and talked until the conversation became more warm and smiles returned to both of your faces.

That night was the first time you finally felt understood. It was also the night that Rafael Barba understood not only that you loved him but how you loved him. There was a learning curve for a few months but things proceeded smoothly and happily for the years that followed. The two of you eventually moved in to a mutual apartment and forged a new life together. It was a quiet and peaceful life, one that Rafael Barba had never expected for himself but quite enjoyed. After all, he would have lived any life for you.

The night you told Rafael something was wrong with your cat he was heartbroken. Once again you’d sensed something was wrong with her before she even knew it herself. Your little kitten had gotten old and her body was failing her. The two of you took her to the vet the next day and after the labs were processed your intuition was confirmed. Your most loyal friend was dying, feline cancer, and there was little that could be done. Despite the minute options for treatment you tried them all. Diet, medication, everything. And nothing worked. Though you didn’t appear distressed to anyone else Rafael could see how frantic you were, how desperate you were not to lose your dear friend. He could see it in your eyes and sense it in your diction.

Two weeks later the time came. You held her close as she passed, laying on the ground with her soft body pulled into your chest. You watched as her wide eyes fell semi shut and her body tensed then slacked. You felt many things in that moment, abandonment, anger, pain and grief. You felt them all weighing you down like slabs of concrete. Rafael had gone to work that day but you had stayed home. You had known she wouldn’t be there when you got home. So you held her until she grew stiff and cold, smoothing her coat over and over before finally getting up to call the vet.

When the vet’s assistant arrived at your apartment she created a paw imprint as a keepsake for you out of some quick hardening clay. The tech explained that many people found the keepsake comforting especially when they couldn’t bury their pet. You watched as the vet tech carefully placed your companion in a plastic bag, hardly hearing the words that left her mouth as she apologized and offered her condolences. You smiled and nodded and before you knew it you were alone. For the first time in so many years you were totally alone. You waited for the familiar brush of your kitten against your leg but it never came.

Hours later you heard Rafael’s key in the door and the pregnant pause as he waited for your cat to make her way to the front door to greet him. Though she’d been getting slower day by day she still had been able to make her way to the foyer every day when Rafael got home. But not today. You heard the front door shut with a loud slam and your boyfriend came rushing down the hall dropping his brief case and a bag of to go Chinese food in one harsh motion.

“Where is she?” Rafael asked, every word coated in anger.

“She died this morning, the vet’s nurse took her around eleven.” You got up and picked up the bag of food he had carelessly dropped.

“You didn’t call me?” He asked bitterly following you into the kitchen where you began to unpack the meal he’d brought home.

“Why would I, she wasn’t yours.” You spoke plainly, only turning around when you felt his eyes bore into your back.

“I loved her as much as you did. I know this is hard for you but it’s hard for me too.” Tears had filled Rafael’s eyes and as he finished speaking they fell.

“Why?” You couldn’t understand why he would feel the way he said he did. She’d been yours long before you’d met him.

“Because I love you, I can see how hurt you are and how helpless you’ve felt the last few weeks. It’s not your fault and I know you’re grieving in your own way but I would have liked to be there for you and for her.” Rafael reached for your hand but you pulled it away.

“It’s not my responsibility to be upset in a way that you understand. She’s...she was my friend. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” You started angrily but finished so softly your voice was barely audible.

You took a container of egg drop soup and a crab rangoon back to the living room and sat down to eat. After a beat Rafael joined you and the two of you ate in silence. You didn’t speak when you took the trash to the kitchen to throw out, and you didn’t speak when you climbed into bed. You laid there feeling angry and sad, but mostly sad as you mulled over your exchange with Rafael.

Rafael stayed up for a while, holding the little imprint of your cats paw in his hands. He just wanted you to feel better, to open up and let some of the pain out but he knew he had to be patient. After all, he was frighteningly similar to you when it came to things like this. Rafael had stifled his emotions so many times throughout his life and career that they rarely showed, but god they burned away inside his chest and turned his stomach. It was then that Rafael Barba began to cry, not only for you and the pain you were enduring but for his sweet little girl, your cat, who he had come to love so much. Rafael had never really bought into the whole idea of having a pet but your cat had taken to him so quickly and he’d fallen in love. She became his little girl despite her already being quite old when they’d met. Rafael sobbed as silently as he could where he sat on the couch, tracing over the imprint her paw had made in the white clay.

You assumed Rafael was in his office so when you got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen it surprised you to find him on the couch, his shoulders heaving up and down with the weight of his sobs. When you moved closer you saw what was in his hands, the paw imprint. Seeing the man you loved mourning the loss of your treasured companion you too began to cry as you fell to your knees in front of him. The two of you stayed there for a while, both grieving together yet separately. Eventually Rafael pulled you up into his lap and his arms, letting you cry into his neck as the release of anger, grief and helplessness flooded from you. When you found you could speak again you did, telling your boyfriend just how you felt, how hard it was for you and why. The most amazing thing was that he understood, not just you emotions but your expression of them. Rafael spoke next, revealing the depth of his grief as well. Though you’d been together for years it shocked you just how similarly you dealt with things like grief and pain.

That night you realized there was nothing wrong with the way you expressed your emotions and there was nothing wrong with you. All it took was finding the right person who could accept you and be there for you while you processed them. You discovered that it was more than okay to feel things your own way, after all, your feelings belonged to you, but you also found that when a bond between souls exists, animals and humans alike, you no longer had to experience them alone. And after all those years of loneliness and pain, you finally found peace in that.

#rafael barba #law and order svu #Raul Esparza #cat #svu #mini fic #sorry ive been gone so long #adacarisi #this wasnt my best #but i hope it was alright #sorry it took forever

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elliearchive · 5 years

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SWEET LITTLE LIES ➝ RYOVAN.

TAGGING ➝ Donovan Smythe, Rylan St. James.

LOCATION ➝ Donovan and basically Rylan’s house.

TIME FRAME ➝ 4/17, afternoon.

WARNINGS ➝ None.

NOTES ➝ Donovan and Rylan play bf and gf for his parents.

DONOVAN SMYTHE

Being in a fake relationship hadn’t changed Donovan’s life all that much yet. But that was probably because he and Rylan hadn’t really taken the plunge yet. They had made the plan and she had already told his parents, but they hadn’t really been faced with the actual act of behaving like a couple. And Don was not excited for that part. It was definitely going to be weird. Not something he was afraid they wouldn’t be able to pull off. He just wasn’t all that excited to have to hold onto his best friend like he had feelings for her. That just wasn’t them. He made his way inside of his front door, rolling his eyes at the sight of Rylan on his couch. “I gave you that key for emergencies,” he teased. He had already been expecting to see her when he walked through the door. He knew her schedule and she knew his. So, he knew what nights she would be on his couch, cuddling with one of his pets and she knew what time he would be home. He felt his phone ringing in his pocket and pulled it out, sighing at the image of his parents on his screen. “Shit. My parents are calling,” he groaned out, making his way over to the couch. He plopped down next to her and sighed, his eyes glancing from the phone and then back to her. “Are you ready for this?” He asked, scooting closer to her. “You have to sit close to me. We have to pretend like we’re into each other.” He finally swiped to the right and answered the FaceTime call from his parents, waving at them. “Hey guys,” he mumbled out, smiling weakly. “Is that Rylan?” The excitement in his mom’s voice actually made him chuckle softly. “Of course. She was waiting for me when I got home. Isn’t that sweet?”

RYLAN ST. JAMES

They joked about it plenty, about how Rylan should really just move in here by now, but there was really no need. She would make herself at home in Donovan’s house whether he was in it or not, and today was no exception. Evidently, she practically lived here already. She knew he didn’t actually mind, and shrugged a shoulder as she looked up at him entering the room, Tiger sprawled across her lap. “It was an emergency. I could hear Tiger purring all the way from my house.” She joked, fingertips brushing through the cat’s orange fur. He definitely thought he was more dog than cat, but Rylan loved that. She loved that she could cuddle with him like this without him clawing at her like most cats would. She was lost in her own little world with him when the sound of Donovan’s phone cut into her thoughts, and she laughed softly when he announced who was calling. “The horror,” she teased, sitting a little further upright on the couch. Tiger hopped down from her lap, evidently bothered by her new position, and Rylan scooted closer to Donovan. “I’m ready. You need to act naturally, though. You’re going to give our game away,” she warned, reaching over to pick up his arm and drape it across her shoulders. She was apparently better at this than he was. She grinned as she saw his parents flash up on the screen. “Hey, Mr. and Mrs. S.” She greeted, sending them a small wave. Her hand instinctively settled over Don’s, the one draped over her shoulder in view of the camera, and Rylan easily laced their fingers, resting comfortably against him. “Gotta take care of my man, right? I ordered dinner for him and everything,” she winked, glancing up at him, then focused on the screen again. “We miss you guys. It feels like the party was forever ago now.”

DONOVAN SMYTHE

Don really didn’t mind having her at his place. He was used to it by now, just like she was probably used to him being an asshole to her about it. It was just how they were. Plus, it was actually nice having her around. He would never admit it, but it did get lonely living so far away from everyone else that loved him. He did miss living directly in the city and being a train ride away from some of his siblings, but he still wouldn’t trade his solitude for the world. He was kind of grateful that Ry would stop by so much. He would never tell her that. He pouted as Tiger hopped off the couch, a little sad that it was just going to be the two of them on there now. Talking to his overbearing, but very loving parents. They just wanted to see him happy and now they were going to. Even if it was a total lie. He sent her a raised eyebrow when she lifted his arm at put it over her shoulder. “You’re way too good at this,” he joked, shaking his head. It was nice to see his parents so happy. It was nice to know that they were so happy because of him. They were happy for him. His eyes fell to their laced fingers as he shrugged, returning his attention to his happy parents. “Her man,” he echoed, playfully laughing. “Babe. You don’t have to suck up to my parents. They already like you,” he joked, shaking his head. “Ry told me you guys were talking her ear off the other day and she just went ahead and told you the good news,” he beamed. He figured that was the smile a happy boyfriend should have had on his face. He leaned over and pressed his lips against her cheek, pulling away with the same grin on his face. “Ry finally realized what a stud I am.”

RYLAN ST. JAMES

“Not my first rodeo, kid,” Rylan winked up at him, shuffling closer into his side. That was a lie, obviously. She didn’t make a habit of fake dating her friends. She’d had boyfriends and girlfriends pretty consistently up until now, though; she knew how to date. She knew how to play the part. It was easy to do so with Don, she was already entirely comfortable with him. Truth be told, she felt awful lying to Bart and Diana. They were like family to her — they actually were Donovan’s family — but the smiles on their faces as they watched the two of them made it kind of worth it. She mentally promised herself that she wouldn’t get in too deep here, that they’d end it before anybody, their parents mostly, got hurt. They could easily say they tried it and realized they worked better as friends. Rylan feigned shock as she looked up at her friend. “Sucking up to them? Where have you been? I’m naturally this charming.” She teased, the sound of his parents soft laughter as they watched them go back and forth not going unnoticed. “That’s right,” his father beamed, “It’s really about time, too. We see the way the two of you look at each other. We’re thrilled.” However they thought they looked at each other, they were wrong, but Rylan chose not to let it show, instead just gently squeezing Donovan’s fingers, not really thinking about how his parents couldn’t even see nor benefit from the action. They likely couldn’t see the way her thumb brushed softly over his knuckles either. But that didn’t stop her. “He is kind of a stud,” she agreed, winking toward the screen. “He also hasn’t officially asked me to be his date yet,” she glanced up at him with a smirk, “But I’m pretty sure we’ll be going to the wedding together. Won’t we, babe?” His mother chuckled. “I think that’s your cue to ask her, Don.”

DONOVAN SMYTHE

Did Donovan want to lie to his parents? Not exactly. But he did want to make them happy. And they were so happy. They hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d answered the call. He didn’t really understand it. He didn’t see what they saw in the two of them. They were just friends. There was nothing to root for there, but he was tired of arguing with them about it. And it was obvious this whole charade only furthered their belief that there was something there between the two of them. Don didn’t think they looked at each other in any special way. He was usually rolling his eyes at Rylan. And she was doing the same to him. It was all in his parents’ heads. He was actually surprised by how natural all of this felt. Rylan had touched him enough that sitting there with their fingers laced together didn’t feel strange at all. “I am a stud, but let’s not pretend like Rylan isn’t a total smoke show. You’re beautiful,” he smiled, turning his gaze from the phone to her. This was a lot easier than he thought. Sure, he was lying and he had to act, but he could be nice to his best friend. That was all this was. Being nice to Rylan with a little bit of hand-holding thrown in. He let out a small playful sigh as he turned his body to face his fake-girlfriend. “Will you go to the wedding with me, babe? I’ll even throw in a few dances to sweeten the deal,” he said with a light chuckle. His parents were so ridiculous. They were eating this up, he could tell by the way his mother was laughing at every interaction he and Ry were having.

RYLAN ST. JAMES

“Only took you thirty-one years to realize. But that’s okay, I would wait thirty-one more for you,” she winked, knowing she was totally laying it on very thick here, but his parents seemed to think it was adorable. The most she’d ever gotten out of Donovan when she’d been looking for compliments on her appearance was him telling her things like ‘sure, looks good’, so to hear him calling her beautiful was hilarious. Fortunately, she could pass off her giggling as being flirty with him; his parents didn’t seem to question it. Turning her face to look up at him as she felt his body move toward her own, Rylan locked her gaze with his, her smirk subtle enough that it was only for him, not his parents. “Not quite the whole prom-posal style thing I was going for, but sure, I guess I’ll go with you,” she grinned, leaning forward to press a small kiss to his cheek. She turned back toward the phone as she pulled back. “Do you guys want some privacy, by the way? I totally just interrupted family FaceTime, didn’t I? Let me go see what Tiger’s doing.” Rylan unlinked their fingers, pushing herself up from the couch. “It was really nice to speak to you, Mr. and Mrs. S,” she smiled politely, sending a wave toward the camera, then pushed herself up and to her feet, moving to stand behind the phone. She crossed her arms over her chest, grinning down at him. She was sure his parents would have some more comments to make, and she totally wanted to hear them. Slipping her phone from her back pocket, she opened up she and Donovan’s texts, typing out a quick ‘wrap it up, “babe”, your fake-girlfriend is hungry’, then hit send, assuming it’d pop up on his screen in a moment.

DONOVAN SMYTHE

This was nowhere near as hard as Donovan thought it was going to be. Aside from the feeling of Rylan’s lips on his cheeks, a feeling he didn’t loathe as much as he figured he would, he didn’t think any of it felt weird. it felt like a joke between the two of them. One they had to keep hidden from his parents. As he sat with his body turned toward hers, he could see her lips curving into a smile. And he really wanted to roll his eyes at her, but he knew he couldn’t because his parents were still watching him. He wanted to return her snark with someone he would have usually said, but he couldn’t. He was supposed to be playing the role of her boyfriend. And her boyfriend was supposed to be sweet to her. His eyes followed her as she excused herself, before he finally snapped back into it and stared back down at his parents. “Wow. You can’t take your eyes off her for a second.” A small chuckle escaped from his lips at his dad’s comment as he shook his head. His eyes shot up at the message notification on his phone and he immediately sent an eye roll in her direction. He talked to his parents for a few more minutes. Mostly fielding questions about Rylan that he really didn’t want to answer. Finally, he decided to exit the conversation. “I’m going to go make sure she doesn’t eat all my food,” Don joked before waving to his parents again. “Love you, guys. Have a good night.” He ended the call before he stood up, grabbing the phone and shoving it in his pocket. “Not as bad as I thought it was going to be,” he said with a shrug. “The last cheek kiss was a little excessive though, don’t you think?” He let out a small yawn as he looked over at her. “So, did you actually get me food or what?”

RYLAN ST. JAMES

Rylan didn’t move from where she stood, instead just grinning down at her friend and listening to the way his parents were talking about the two of them. Their excitement was kind of adorable, even if the whole thing was a sham. It almost made it worth it. Once he’d begun to wrap up the call, Rylan called out a quick, “Night, guys!” before he hung up, then waited where she was, knowing he’d have something to say. It really had been pretty easy, and in her opinion, it’d gone incredibly smoothly, too. “Nope. I think we’ll be able to pull this off pretty well,” she shrugged, brows wrinkling at his complaint. “Really? You called me a smoke show and told me I was beautiful, the cheek kiss was fine.” She waved her hand, as if brushing the comment off, then turned toward the kitchen in search of the cat. “No, I didn’t. But I will, I really am starving,” she frowned, grabbing her phone from her back pocket again and opening up the Uber Eats app. Rylan turned to toss the phone over to Donovan. “Pick something for us. I’m gonna go take a shower.” She paused. “You have my shampoo still, right? The coconut one? I’m really not trying to smell like a guy again with your all-in-one crap.” Seriously, she might as well just live here. The fact that she didn’t have her own assigned bedroom yet was honestly kind of unbelievable. Then again, she was always comfortable with sleeping beside Donovan, even if she did find herself having to hit him with a pillow a few times during the night to shut up his snoring. “You wanna pick a movie for us or something while I’m gone?”

DONOVAN SMYTHE

Donovan was happy that they had been able to pull all of it off so far. His parents couldn’t tell that it was all one big lie. And he hoped they never would. The two of the would end this before his parents started being weird and started trying to make wedding plans or anything like that. This would be over. They weren’t going to get his parents hopes up that much. “Calling you a smoke show wasn’t that hard. I just pretended you were Robin,” he teased, rolling his eyes at her. His friend definitely wasn’t ugly but laying it on thick with those compliments was something reserved for conversations where he had to pretend to like her romantically. Now that it was just the two of them he could go back to being their normal dynamic. He accepted the phone from her and started scrolling through, knowing that with his address they probably wouldn’t get food for hours. And he knew she already knew that too because she basically lived there and had ordered food many times. “You know smelling like your fake boyfriend wouldn’t hurt the lie,” he joked, shaking his head. “Your stuff’s in my bathroom. Where it always is,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He really didn’t mind that she spent so much time there. It could get lonely, being so isolated, it was nice that she was around. Even though she was annoying. It didn’t bother him sharing a bed with her or even feel all that weird. They were friends. She was probably one of his closest friends. If not, his best friend. So, things between them were never weird. “You’re going to fall asleep on the couch again, but sure, I’ll pick something out for us,” he said with a shrug. He wouldn’t go Star Wars or something he actually wanted her to watch. He was definitely going to put on something boring.

#zoey holliday.#ryley x donovan.#ryovan x two.#mutyler

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