#no one should be allowed to send me anything after five on friday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

abiiors · 1 year

Text

Bet

Day 5 of (write) anything that you want to! week and omg it's over so quickly. Truly I had so much fun 😭💞 Series Masterlist

Warnings - Minors dni! This is toxic, to say the least, but it is also hot so, uh, yeah, sub matty kinda??? (at least I’ve tried lmao), overstim. (Not the biggest fan of this fic, unfortunately.), oral, fwb dynamic

Friday: slutty matty

The pub is crowded tonight. Which is to be expected for a Friday night.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him chatting up a pretty blonde at the bar. She giggles at something he says, twirls her hair around her finger. He leans closer as if on cue and lets his eyes roam freely from her mouth to her very ample cleavage.

He’s interested. Or so she thinks.

She throws her head back, laughs loudly at his joke. And he takes the opportunity to steal a glance at you. But reading his body language has almost become second nature now so you focus your attention back on the man in front of you.

Nate (Nick?) the financial analyst (banker?) is busy gloating about his recent luxury Cancun holiday and how he could take you places if you interest him enough. (Starting with his dingy apartment tonight, you’re sure of it.)

You hmm and nod at all the appropriate times, smile coyly at him when he suggests anything remotely sexual.

‘So, should we leave?’ he asks in a deep, fake husky voice, ‘my place?’

In response, you place a hand on his knees and slowly drag it upward. ‘Wait for me?’ you purr, ‘I’ll be back in five.’ And you’re out before he has a chance to respond.

The music thrums louder, bodies press together closely as they sway and stagger. An arm snakes around your waist, sending a thrill of excitement right down to your stomach and you feel yourself being pulled flush against Matty’s firm chest.

‘A hand on his knee?’ he tuts and tries to nip at your ear.

‘Well…’ you grind lightly on him, ‘I saw you eyeing her like that and thought I could do one better.’

Your blood turns hot and rushes straight down when you feel his fingers trailing up your thigh. Being this close to him is already a dizzying sensation but all your thoughts zero in on that one calloused finger drawing circles on the apex of your thigh.

‘Time’s up,’ he breathes. ‘Ready to leave?’

You nod, barely concealing the excitement that blooms within you at his words. Nick (Nate?) will realise soon enough that you won’t be back tonight. So will the several others whose numbers sit safely in your phone. You’re sure there is an equally long trail of women who will wonder why he’s never gone back to them. The question is, whose is longer?

The cab ride back to his place is tense and silent, the air thick with anticipation. His fingers get tangled in the hem of your dress, yours get caught trying to undo his buttons but none of you dares speak. None of you is allowed to reveal your numbers yet. So the car fills with sounds of soft gasps and shuddered breaths and racing heartbeats.

Matty’s place is silent and dimly lit. He goes to turn on the light but you’re quick to stop him; tonight’s activities are best kept in the dark after all.

His hand comes to rest on your waist, another on the back of your neck as he tilts your face up.

‘I’m going to leave you such a mess tonight,’ he murmurs cockily, fingers digging into your waist but you’re not one to submit so easily.

‘Counting our chickens, are we?’ you smirk and step out of his grip. He almost stumbles forward, almost lets out a surprised grunt but stops himself just in time.

‘How much?’ he asks once he has his phone out. You take a minute to take him in, faintly illuminated by the glow of his screen, looking at you with dark hungry eyes.

‘You first,’ you challenge.

His smirk widens but he doesn’t challenge back, instead, he holds out his phone for you to see. One after the other after the other, there are eight phone numbers in total and your grin deepens, turns feral.

All you need to do is breathe one word.

‘Nine’

-----

The silk bedsheets on his bed are unruffled, pristine. It’s your playground for tonight and you can’t wait to see the state of them once you’re done with him. The shadows in the bedroom deepen and flicker as you make your way to the familiar drawer. “The drawer of sins” he calls it but to you, it’s the drawer of all your depraved fantasies come true.

‘On the bed,’ you command, voice low and sultry.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he smiles coyly. But you know you’ll fuck the coyness out of him soon enough.

The drawer opens almost soundlessly. It’s lined with red velvet, the same shade of your nails tonight, the same shade of the blindfold that sits within. Among an assortment of things.

‘Are you going to be a good boy for me tonight?’ you ask and he nods eagerly.

You step closer, close enough that you’re standing between his legs and place the satin blindfold over his eyes.

‘Your words, love,’ you taunt, tying a knot with deft fingers, ‘I asked you a question.’

Matty hmms distractedly, too dazed to be thinking properly but he knows the rules of this game. ‘I will be good for you tonight,’ he whispers hoarsely.

So you place a palm flush against his chest and push him onto the bed.

His head bounces slightly on the mattress and his lips part with a gasp but none of that can be compared to the sound he makes once you climb on top and straddle him.

You grab his chin with your fingers, nails digging softly into his hard jaw, ‘tell me your safe word.’

‘Red,’ he swallows and that’s all the encouragement you need.

You tighten your fingers around his jaw, bring your mouth so it’s almost touching his, ‘and tell me what you want,’ you command softly. Your lips ghost over his and he shivers at the featherlight touch.

‘I want to please you.’

The thought brings the butterflies swarming to your stomach; him writhing under you, begging for you to touch him.

You start slow, just unbuttoning his shirt, palming him through his jean. That elicits a proper groan out of him and he thrusts his hips upward almost reflexively. Matty’s chest shines in the moonlight—pale and unmarked for now. It’s practically begging to be covered in scratches and hickeys but all of that would come later. For now, you slowly trail a nail down his sternum and watch the goosebumps scatter over his body.

‘Let’s try something new tonight, shall we?’ you ask, already looking at the small collection of toys on the nightstand. It’s such a small device really, black and like a bullet in shape but that’s what you’ve chosen for tonight.

A faint buzzing fills the room as soon as you push the button and his eyebrows raise slightly. He’s not allowed to speak, he’s not allowed to answer back but clearly, he can’t help himself. His mouth opens, about to speak but you’re faster.

Whatever words are about to leave his mouth turn into a soft moan as soon as the vibrator hovers over one of his nipples—just close enough to send shocks through him but not close enough to properly touch him. His back arches, his body trying to make contact with it wherever you take it. And you feel the blood rushing down south. It’s almost tempting to use the vibrator on yourself but no, not so quick.

‘Do you want more?’ you move the buzzing device down, down, down, trailing over his navel; circling it once, then again. His gasps grow erratic as soon as it moves lower; as soon as you trace it over his happy trail and rest it just above his jeans.

‘I want more,’ he gasps out, ‘please!’

His bulge is painfully big by now, he’s ready to do anything just to feel any kind of fiction. If it were any other day, you would simply get him out of his jeans and sink down but today is not like the other days. Today is the day he learns the consequences of losing a bet.

‘Go on then,’ you smile sweetly, ‘take them off.’

He doesn’t need to be twice. His shaky fingers fumble with his belt, then his zipper while you watch. The vibrator buzzes in your hands still and you wonder if you could just…

‘Fuck…’ he breathes as soon as he hears it. Because you can’t help the moan that escapes you as soon as the silicon tip touches your aching, wet pussy.

‘Shit,’ he groans, ‘are you touching yourself.’

You moan obnoxiously as the wand rests right against your clit. It’s nothing compared to his fingers, his touches. The faster he gets out of his clothes, the better it will be for him, he knows. But his hands shake and he keeps stopping to hear you, to feel the moans reverberate through his bones. It’s like he simply can’t help himself.

‘Faster, Matthew,’ you chide, follow it up with another obscene moan. ‘Unless we want to tease each other all night?’

The jeans are off and thrown somewhere to the side quickly after that, the boxers follow suit. But that’s all he’s allowed to do for now, that’s all he was told. You wonder if you should be cruel and make him wait but wanting to see his reaction is a much stronger urge. So you begrudgingly move the bullet away from you and right at the base. The bullet gleams with your wetness, leaves a trail wherever it touches and Matty whines loudly at the first fucking contact.

He mumbles and curses turn incoherent as soon as the buzzing wand moves toward the base of his shaft. His hips bucks, sweat making his chest glisten as beads of precum make his tip glisten.

‘Such a pretty mess,’ you tut, enjoying the feeling of those words. Usually, it’s him using them against you, whispering them against your inner thigh as he watches you fall apart.

So you bring your mouth down and give his tip a small lick. Matty’s grunts turn wild, his hips jerking, trying to chase more of the feeling.

‘Please, baby,’ he begs, ‘please, I want your mouth on me.’

You hum softly in contemplation, dragging the device up and down absentmindedly while he whines. ‘Oh god, oh god, fuck—’ he screams, louder this time and you almost, almost wonder if you should put him out of his misery.

‘My mouth around you?’ you mock, ‘but you haven’t done anything to earn it.’

‘I will earn it,’ he whines, ‘please just, I want you.’ He’s minutes away from snapping, you know he is. But this is just getting better.

You take the vibrator away from him, straddle him once again until you can feel his stiff cock pressed against your ass. Just as he can feel your went cunt on his stomach. ‘Tell me your colour.’

‘Green,’ he doesn’t hesitate, ‘Please, I’m gonna die, please let me fuck you.’

The look in his eyes when you pull the blindfold down is going to be a permanent part of your fantasies, you’re sure of it. His eyes have gone almost pitch black and unfocused. His curls plastered to his forehead and his lips swollen from how hard he bit his teeth into them.

‘Need you on my face,’ he begs, ‘I told you I will earn it.’

He doesn’t need to ask twice before you’re lowering yourself on his face. His hands come to grip your things, yours clutch the headboard as his tongue circles your already sensitive clit.

‘Fuck,’ you ground out simultaneously—him from the taste of you and you from the jolt that goes through you.’

Your eyes roll back in pleasure as his tongue makes quick work of lapping at you. His fingers dig into your creamy thighs, and you hips grind involuntarily. He’s the one that’s supposed to be writhing yet here he is, almost desperate and feverish, making you scream out his name.

‘Good boy,’ you encourage, ‘so good to me.’ In response he lets his teeth graze your clit.

‘I’ll let you cum if you make me cum first,’ you offer but that feeling is not far away. The room spins and spins as pleasure builds at the base of your spine. Occasionally Matty hums and sends vibrations all throughout your body. With every filthy word he utters, with every broad stroke he licks, you feel your sanity slipping away slowly.

‘Keep going,’ you moan loudly just as his grip tightens, ‘god, I'm so close.’

‘I wanna taste you,’ he pleads, ‘please.’ And plunges his tongue inside one last time. That’s all it needs for the restraint to snap. You’re surprised that the wood doesn’t splinter under your fingers with how hard you grip it. The room tilts on its axis or maybe it’s just you, throwing your head back and screaming something incoherent. Thighs trembling and out of breath, you finally manage to bring yourself down enough to look at him. His mouth is wet with your slick, his face hungry for more. The blindfold rests somewhere around his neck having slipped off halfway through and his hands move up and down your hips.

‘Fine,’ you murmur, still trying to sound as put together as possible even after shattering on his tongue over and over again. ‘I think you’ve earned it—’

‘Yes, yes,’ he breathes, ‘I am going crazy, please.’ And you can tell he is. He looks like he’s five minutes away from taking matters into his own hands. Quite literally.

So you smirk down at him and pick up the small black bullet.

‘So where were we?’ you ask innocently just as buzzing fills the room once again.

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petersspidey · 3 years

Text

Laundry Day

Summary: Y/N needs help carrying her laundry down to the laundry room and Bucky steps in to save the day. But he also has a load of his own ;)

Warnings: a lot of smut

Word Count: 3154 (its so long wtf)

MASTERLIST

Sometimes you hated Tony.

Like when he was overly cocky, and almost ruining your missions but somehow coming out the hero. Or when he tells the team something you didn't want all of them to know.

But you have never hated him more than when he put the laundry in the basement of the Avengers compound. You argued with him when he was first building it. He put your room on the top floor in the furthest possible wing from the laundry and unlike almost all of the Avengers you did not have super strength. So carrying your laundry across the entire building and down eight flights was not exactly easy.

So every two weeks you would spend 15 minutes just getting your dirty laundry from your room down to the laundry room, cursing Tony's name every time.

So there you were, the second Sunday of every month leaving your room, with an overflowing basket of laundry in your hand. As soon as you opened your door it felt like you ran into a brick wall. You toppled backward landing on your ass, and you had completely dropped your basket. Your clothes had spilled everywhere.

You sighed, and looked up.

"Sorry, Y/N." Bucky said

He bent down, starting to help you pick up your clothes.

"It's ok," you sighed, joining him in placing everything back into the basket.

"What were you doing standing outside my room anyway?" you asked

"I wasn't standing outside your room … I just happened to be walking past right as you opened your door."

You laughed, "ok Buck. Whatever you say."

He huffed in frustration. You always knew how to get under his skin, but he also knew how to get under yours.

Bucky helped you pick up the last few items of your laundry, when he held up something in front of your face.

You black lace thong. Your eyes widened, and you quickly snatched it from his hands.

You quickly threw the last things into your basket, and stood up.

"Well, thanks for the help. I gotta go."

You tried to get out of there as quickly as possible. Your cheeks burning red over the fact that Bucky just had your dirty underwear in his hand. But, your basket once again held you back. You lifted it, but had to walk slowly, barely able to see over the top of the mountain of clothes.

"Do you need some help?" Bucky asked, watching you walk away

"Nope. I'm good," you yelled back.

Bucky eyed you for a second, before turning to walk away. You continued down the hall, slowly making your way to the elevator. After barely making it anywhere. You placed the basket down for a moment, resting your arms. You stretched your back, and before you could bend down again to scoop up your basket Bucky was standing beside you, reaching down to grab it.

"I said I didn't need help," you said

"Yeah, and as much fun as it was watching you struggle to carry this and need to take a break five seconds in, I figured I'd just lend you a hand," he said

"Well it's not my fault I'm not a supersoldier like you," you muttered

Bucky chuckled and started walking down the hall toward the elevator.

"You carry this by yourself every week? How do you go through so many clothes?" he asked

"Well, every other week. But, yes."

"And! This is not an abnormal amount of clothes for two weeks, thank you very much." you continued

"You know, if you did laundry every week you might not have such an issue getting down to the laundry room." Bucky said, smirking at you.

You rolled your eyes, "Whatever, Barnes."

"You're just upset because you know I'm right."

As you approached the elevator, you pressed the button and Bucky put your laundry down.

"Thanks, I think I've got it from here," you said.

The elevator doors opened, and once again, before you could grab your basket Bucky managed to get a hold of it first.

"Really, Bucky. It's ok I'll be fine from here."

"Are you forgetting about the long hallway downstairs?" He said, stepping onto the elevator with your clothes.

You huffed, and followed him on.

"I'm a big girl. I can do it myself."

The doors closed and you began to descend.

"Oh don't get your little lacy panties in a twist, I wasn't doing anything else I don't mind giving you a hand." Bucky said, smirking at you, knowing exactly how you'd react.

Your face became red again.

"Don't talk about my underwear."

"If you don't want me talking about your underwear maybe you should move the hot pink g-string that you have sitting at the top of your basket."

You lightly gasp, and reach over, pulling the pair off the top and shoving them down the side of your basket.

Bucky chuckled again. Knowing he was embarrassing you.

The elevator stopped, and you both stepped off into the basement, heading down the long hall to the laundry room.

"You must've done something to make Tony mad if he put your room so far from the laundry."

"I'm fully convinced he just likes to cause me problems. He probably has FRIDAY watching me on the cameras. I do not doubt one bit that he laughs at me hauling this downstairs twice a month."

Bucky laughed at your statement.

You smiled back at him. You don't see him smile much. It was a good change.

You turn the corner with Bucky. You could see the laundry room door at the end of the hall now. The two of you walk silently until you reach the door. You open it, and Bucky walks in in front of you and places your basket full of clothes down in front of one of the washers.

"Thanks for helping me. Would've taken me twice as long to get down here if I was by myself."

"It's no problem. It's always fun to show off my strength to a pretty lady."

"Oh so I'm a pretty lady?" you teased

Bucky blushed.

You smirked, and opened the washing machine lid. You began loading your clothes in. Bucky stood near you, leaning on the dryer right beside.

"You don't have to wait down here with me," you told him

"I figured I'd just wait and walk back upstairs with you."

"It's really ok, Buck. I usually just hang out down here until my loads are done. It's only a 30 minute cycle."

"Well maybe I'll just hang out down here with you…" Bucky said, as if he was waiting for your permission.

"Sure, I guess. If you really want to."

You filled up one machine, and threw the detergent in, shutting the lid. You moved over to another machine and began putting in a second load.

You heard Bucky chuckling, and turned around to look at him.

"What?" you questioned

"You have so many clothes that you have to use two washing machines." He said, shaking his head.

You rolled your eyes, "Whatever Barnes. It's because unlike you, I don't wear the same Henley's and jeans every day."

"No, you wear different coloured thongs every day." he teased

You finished placing all the laundry in the machine, and left your basket on the floor.

You walked back toward where Bucky was standing and jumped up onto one of the empty machines, sitting on the lid.

"You really just sit down here on top of a dryer waiting by yourself? You know there's a table and chairs right there." Bucky said

"Usually, yeah. Sometimes I bring a book down, but it's nice and quiet down here…" you started

"Well, usually I'll sit on top of one of the washing machines that I'm using, and not the empty dryer," you added, knowing exactly what you were insinuating.

Bucky's eyes shot up to you. "What?" he asked, thinking he hadn't heard you right.

"You heard me." you confirmed

"Well, alright. So why aren't you sitting on one of those today?"

"Well, usually only something I do while I'm down here alone."

"Don't be shy, doll."

Something about the way Bucky said doll, made you squirm. You hesitated for a second before you got off the dryer, and walked toward the machine that you had just turned on, climbing on top of it. You sat, letting your legs hang over the edge, eyes on Bucky.

The vibrations from the machine were shooting through you, pulsating right to your center. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. You could hear Bucky walking closer, he lightly spread your legs and stood in between them. You opened your eyes. Bucky's face was inches from yours. He leaned in closer, taking either side of your face in his hands. You expected his metal hand to be cold against your face, but it was almost as warm as his other.

He looked you in the eyes, before bringing your face towards his, pressing a sloppy kiss against your mouth (ok but think Endings, Beginnings kiss - his character with Shailene Woodly). You leaned into the kiss, opening your mouth more, allowing him to slide his tongue inside. You wrapped your legs around his back, pulling him as close to you as you possibly could. The vibrations from the machine, still sending pulses right to your core.

You could already feel yourself getting more wet by the second. Bucky's mouth on yours mixed with the feeling of the machine below you. You needed more. You ran your hands down Bucky's body, reaching underneath his shirt to feel his skin. Bucky ran his hands over you, one of his fingers grazing against you hard nipple poking through your shirt. You moaned into his kiss.

Bucky slid his hands under your shirt and began lifting it. You raised your arms over your head, allowing him to take your shirt off. You broke your kiss as he lifted your shirt over your head. He stared at your bare chest as he threw your shirt to the side. You pulled him close, shoving your lips back against his.

His hands roamed your bare back, holding you tight against him. He began kissing down your neck, toward your chest. You leaned back on your hands, allowing him easier access to your hard nipples.

You moaned, and allowed your head to fall back as he swirled his tongue around your breast. His hands fumbled with the buttons on your jeans, undoing the zipper. He pulled away, and urged you to lift up your bottom so he could rip your jeans from your legs.

He tossed them aside, and looked at you sitting in only your underwear. He smirked, seeing how wet they were.

"Granny panties?" he questioned

"Shut up, all my good pairs are in the laundry." you said, taking your panties off yourself, leaving you completely exposed. He stood, looking at you, enjoying the sight. You looked down and saw his cock fighting against the zipper of his jeans.

Bucky groaned before touching you.

"Lie down," he ordered, placing one hand on your chest, getting you to lie your back completely flat on the machine.

You twitched as your bare back hit the cold metal of the washer, before settling in.

You looked down at Bucky, just as he was bending over placing a long lick against your slit. You moaned loudly, not expecting him to do that. He looked up at you as he placed another lick, taking in your wetness.

He saw the look of ecstasy on your face and took it as a sign to keep going. He dove into your pussy, face first. You gasped, and arched your back, only pressing your wetness deeper into Bucky's face. Bucky teased you, leaving small, gentle strokes along your clit.

You wrapped your legs tight around his head, "stop teasing me," you begged

You could feel him smirk, "anything for you, doll."

Bucky began pressing his tongue harder against your clit. Moving it up, down, and in circles. You moaned loudly, your grip tightening on his hair.

The vibrations from the machine and his tongue on you were too much. You began thrusting up against his face. You wanted nothing more than him inside of you.

"Buck, please." you moaned

Bucky brought one of his hands up toward your breast. He kneaded it in his hand as his tongue dove around your pussy. He flicked your hard nipple between his fingers. You cried out in pleasure. You could feel your orgasm building.

"Don't stop, i'm so close," you whined out

Bucky didn't stop. He continued sucking on your clit until you could feel your walls come crashing down. You pulled on his har, and tighten your legs around his head as he continued through your orgasm.

When you finally calmed down, you slowly let your grip on him go. You were panting, lying back on the still vibrating washing machine, staring at the ceiling, taking in that feeling of ecstasy.

Bucky stood up and stared at you. He loved the sight of you. You were panting, cheeks red, a total mess. All for him.

Bucky looked around, thinking of how and where he was going to fuck you. He eyed the table.

"Get up, doll." he told you

You sat up, breathless, "Why,"

"Machine's too tall, beautiful. Can't fuck you up there."

Just hearing Bucky say that made your pussy twitch. He placed either hand on your hips and helped you down. You stood, leaning against the washing machine as Bucky began undressing in front of you.

He tossed his shirt to the side, and began taking his pants down. He stood in front of you in only his underwear.

"Take them off," you begged

Bucky gave you a smug look before pulling them down as well.

You moaned, just at the sight of him. You hadn't realized that the supersoldier serum would affect that part of him as well.

You moved toward him, taking his huge cock in your hand. You ran your finger over his tip, precum already leaking out

"Fuck," he muttered

"That's the idea," you said.

Bucky gripped your hips tight, shoving you toward the table in the corner of the room. He lifted you up and sat you down on the edge.

"Lean back, so I can shove my dick in you." he ordered

You obeyed. Lying flat on the table, bringing your heels up so they were resting on the table as well. You kept your eyes on Bucky, he traced his finger up and down between your folds. You twitched at the smallest touch.

"Please," you whined

Bucky grinned at you, before taking his cock in his hand, and lightly brushing it up against you.

Bucky lined himself up with your entrance, and slowly slid inside. You cried out in pleasure the deeper he got. You felt so tight with his massive cock. You watched Bucky push the rest of himself in. He shot his head back, mouth open, moaning loudly.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he said breathlessly

You both stayed still, taking in the feeling of Bucky stretching you out. He pulled you closer to him, taking either of your legs and putting them over his shoulders. When he pulled you tight against him, you could feel him get even deeper inside of you.

Bucky slowly began to rock in and out of you. The feeling overwhelming. You couldn't hold in your moans. Never had it felt so good to have someone so close and so deep inside of you.

You shot your hand down to your clit, moving it slowly between your fingers as Bucky began to pick up his pace. You already knew it wasn't going to take much for you to come again, especially with how Bucky was moving in and out of you.

Bucky slowed his pace, sliding out of you, and then pushing back in hard. You circled your clit harder as he continued thrusting in and out.

He pushed in, and you moaned hard, arching your back.

"Right there, don't stop." you said

Bucky kept his pace, thrusting in and out. He knew you were close to coming again.

"Such a good girl," he said to you

Hearing Bucky call you that was enough. You circled your clit twice more before your walls came crashing down. Your other hand gripped the side of the table.

"Oh my god,"

Your pussy twitched around his dick, but he didn't stop moving. He continued fucking you through your orgasm.

You groaned, knowing if he kept going like this another orgasm wouldn't be far behind. Both your arms were spread, gripping different ends of the table. Bucky brought his hand down to your clit. Running his thumb over it, over, and over, and over again.

Bucky rocked his hips into you, thrusting hard and fast. You moaned every time you felt him hit deep inside of you, his thumb still running over your clit. Your walls clenched against his dick once more. That was exactly what he needed. Bucky threw his head back, pulling himself out of you, spurting his come all over your stomach.

Bucky stood in front of you, letting your legs fall from his shoulders. you were still lying back on the table. Both of you stayed silent, trying to catch your breath.

The washing machine began to sing.

"Guess you got three loads done today," Bucky joked, cracking a small grin, looking down at you.

"Oh my god." you said, rolling your eyes at his awful joke.

Bucky held out his hand to you, offering to help you off the table. You grabbed his hand, and stood up. Your faces were only a few inches from each other.

"We should probably clean you up," Bucky said, not taking his eyes off of you.

You sighed, as Bucky turned away to grab you a towel from across the room.

You cleaned yourself off, and you both got dressed again. Bucky stayed with you as you switched your laundry from the washing machines into the dryers, 100% eyeing your ass as you bent over.

"Ever sit on top of the dryer?" Bucky joked.

"Too hot," you answered, laughing slightly.

You walked toward Bucky, he was sitting in one of the chairs at the table. He grabbed your hand pulling you close to him. You sat down on his lap, and he gripped your face with one of his hands, placing a long kiss on your lips.

"Maybe I should start helping you with your laundry every week," he stated

"Every other week," you corrected.

"No, darling. Every week."

#Peterspidey #sebastianstan #the falcon and the winter soldier #Sebastian stan smut #Bucky barnes smut #Bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier smut #the winter soldier fanftiction #the winter soldier imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier smut #Sebastian stan imagine #seb stan smut #Sebastian stan x reader #mcu #smut

5K notes · View notes

buckys-black-dress · 3 years

Text

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes reader insert #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes au

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bestofbucky · 3 years

Text

Eavesdrop

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: none really, enemies to ?

A/N: This is my first time posting something I have written. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much @tuiccim for your help, couldn’t have done it without you.

Being an Avenger is tough. Of course, there are the obvious missions and kicking ass that are exhausting, especially because you don’t have any sort of enhancements or powers. You are just a regular human being, fighting with and against some not so regular human beings. Naturally when you have downtime, you spend it doing things with the least amount of effort. Watching Netflix, listening to music, taking baths, etc, meaning that your social life outside of the compound was, to put it simply, non-existent.

You had just returned from the worst date of your life, well, one of the top five worst dates of your life. Over the past couple of months Steve and Natasha had grown tired of you whining about being single but not making any effort to change it and began sending you on blind dates. Somehow, they managed five different times to find five completely awful people. This time they had set you up with Arthur, a recruit for SHIELD and a good one at that. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him on the elite squad soon, but when it came to your date, he was really blunt and inappropriate, and you had cringed your way through the entire thing.

Once you got back to the compound, you first went to your room to get changed into gym clothes for training with Nat, then headed to her room. On your way you passed one of the common rooms and heard two voices. One familiar but one you didn’t recognise, you decided to check it out and found Steve and another man.

Steve called your name inviting you over to them as they both stood up. ‘This is Bucky. He’s moving in today to begin training.’ Steve explains. You nod and smile at Bucky, remembering Steve told you about him and that he would be living here and eventually joining the team.

You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud at the sight of him. He is a 6 ft something hunk of muscle and beauty and you can’t stop yourself from trying to take him all in with your eyes.

Steve then introduces you to Bucky who looks in your eyes for all of two seconds to say, ‘hi’ before looking down at his feet. He is probably really nervous. Even from that two second glance, you could tell he had one hell of a past. They had you hooked already, you wanted to stare into those eyes and let them tell you the stories of the lifetime they had seen.

‘You were just in Wakanda right? How was it? I have only ever seen it in pictures but I really want to go.’ You let your excitement show, hoping to relax him a bit.

‘Yeah, it was nice. I was frozen for most of it though’ Shit, he curses himself. He didn’t mean to come across so rude but he was really nervous, you are really pretty and it is messing with his head a little. It doesn’t help that he has had to meet a lot of different people today and he is all socialised out. He sees your face fall slightly before you quickly compose yourself, any normal person would have missed it but he has his past of being a trained assassin.

‘Well, Nat is probably waiting for me, she told me she would show me some new moves today.’ You say realising that Bucky had probably been under a lot of stress lately and most likely just wanted to be alone, or with Steve rather than chatting to you, a stranger. At least you hoped this was the reason and it wasn’t that he already disliked you. Saying goodbye to the two of them you head off to Natasha’s room.

Not even bothering to knock, you walk into her room leaving the door open behind you, since you’ll be heading down to the gym soon anyway. Natasha is sitting on the end of the bed braiding her hair. ‘You almost ready?’ You ask.

‘Yeah, just got to finish my hair then put my shoes on.’ She tells you so you take a seat on her bed while you wait.

Meanwhile, Bucky told Steve that he wanted to go get his room sorted. Really it was just an excuse to be alone for a little while. On the way there he walked past a room with the door open and heard two voices talking, recognising them to be you and Natasha. He was just about to carry on walking to his room when he heard Natasha ask, ‘did you meet him yet?’

Bucky assumed she was talking about him and wanted to hear what you had to say. He hoped you would be understanding of his reticence after his taxing morning.

‘Yeah, I met him today.’ You sigh and roll your eyes.

‘That bad?’ Nat asks, raising her eyebrows with a slight smirk on her face.

‘Yes, I tried to be as friendly as I could but he seemed like a jerk.’ You huff.

‘How so?’

‘He was so blunt he just came across really rude. I had high expectations, especially after hearing Steve say so many nice things about him.’

‘Maybe he was just having a bad day?’ She attempts a defence.

‘Bad day or not, he should have the courtesy to smile and be polite even if it is fake.’

Bucky was so hurt to hear this. Yes, he wasn’t the nicest to you but your reaction seemed a bit dramatic. He didn’t want to hear you say any more so he rushed off to his room.

‘So, I guess you aren’t going to go on a second date with him then?’ Nat asks.

‘No, I really appreciate you and Steve trying to set me up but seeing as this is the 5th time and none of them were any good, I think I’ll go back to my old methods.’ You smile at her.

‘What, never putting yourself out there and waiting for the right person to just fall into your lap?’ Nat teases and you both laugh when you nod. She finishes tying her shoelaces and you head off to the gym.

The next day you were leading a meeting of recruits who have the potential to be moved up into the squad that worked with the Avengers. The elite squad. Unfortunately for you, Arthur was in the group of recruits and was probably the next one to be promoted. You finally dismissed everyone and started getting your stuff together to leave as well when Arthur came up to you.

‘What’s the word on who is moving up next, dove?’ You look up in shock, surely, he didn’t just call you dove.

‘Excuse me?’ You look him dead in the eye.

‘I said what’s the word on who is moving up next? I think you might need to get your hearing checked.’ He laughs at his own joke so you fake laugh with him.

‘That’s confidential., we’ll let everyone know when we have made the decision.’ You say and go to walk past him but he grabs your arm.

‘Does someone need a little convincing. If it’s you, then I can think of some ways.’ He whispers seductively in your ear. You pull your arm out of his grasp and frown at him.

‘I’m only joking, dove, come on, you can’t even take a joke?’ He laughs again.

You put on your best fake smile and your customer service voice. ‘There will be no convincing necessary. You are a good agent but you also have good competition. We will inform you all of our decision when it is made.’ You say and quickly turn and walk out the door before he can say anything else. When you get into the lift you ask FRIDAY where Steve is.

‘Common room A, Agent Y/L/N’. You make your way there as quick as possible. Heading around the corner, you slam into a solid object. You hiss at the contact on your fresh bruises, a frown appearing on your face. As soon as you look up to see what or who you bumped into, the frown quickly fades into a smile when you see its Bucky. He is already looking at you.

‘Sorry I should have been watching where I was going.’ He mumbles quickly.

‘No, it’s just as much my fault as yours. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry.’ You apologise to him. As much as you would love to stay and chat with Bucky, you need to get to Steve to explain what just happened with Arthur and hopefully you can get him kicked off the team.

Bucky had left his room to try and find someone to help him figure out a few things with FRIDAY but as soon as he bumped into you that completely left his mind. You were all that filled his mind ever since he met you. He stood in the hallway for a while before realising he should ask you to help. Maybe this would be a good excuse to make up for his poor first impression. He heads in the direction you went but stops short when he hears your voice.

‘I think he bruised me. The dick.’ You say and Steve frowns at you ‘Come on, Steve. I’m allowed to be angry. He has been nothing but a jerk to me,’ you explain and shift to get more comfortable.

‘What did you say to him when he did this?’ Steve asks, holding your arm and examining the newly formed bruises in the shapes of fingers.

‘I put on my best fake smile and pretended like everything was ok,’ You joke and Steve laughs, ‘as much as I hate the guy, I don’t have the confidence to actually show it.’ You sigh and Steve pulls your sleeve back down and leans back into the sofa. ‘Is there any way we can kick him off the team?’ You exaggerate batting your eyelashes at him.

‘He isn’t even on the team yet and you already want to kick him off?’ Steve questions.

‘Yes! I really don’t like him. I know he is your friend but I trust him about as far as I can throw him’ You explain and Steve nods.

Bucky had heard enough. He can’t believe you could be so horrible. You had the sweetest exterior and, from first impressions, you didn’t look like you could hurt a fly. But as he heard you say, you clearly put on a fake act to come across as polite and kind when really you are rude deep down. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. Twice now. But he is so glad he did, because now he knows not to waste his energy on you. He knows what you think of him and he has formed his opinion of you. He hurries back to his room.

‘He’s not my friend Y/N, I only said that to you to make you go on the date with an open mind. I’ve only ever had one conversation with the guy,’ Steve jokes and you playfully push his arm, ‘All jokes aside, his behaviour breaks a lot of conduct rules and is a good enough reason to have him knocked down a few squads.’ Steve replies and you sigh with relief. You hug Steve and thank him for his help, he’s taken slightly off guard but hugs you back before you go your separate ways.

A few weeks later, you walk into the kitchen to find the whole team eating their breakfast. Sam is cooking and when he sees you, he makes a plate and hands it to you.

‘Thank you Sam.’ You hug him and take the plate, turning around at the sound of Bucky’s scoff. You haven’t had a conversation with Bucky since you bumped into each other in the hallway. You had tried to but he either completely ignored you or just rolled his eyes and left the room.

At first it hurt, you wondered if you had done something wrong. The team seemed just as confused by it as you. Bucky didn’t have a problem with anyone else. That wasn’t to say he was extremely friendly with them, he wasn’t there yet and nobody blamed him but he could hold conversation with the others. He even laughed at their jokes. You were starting to get fed up with it so after breakfast you headed to Bucky’s room to talk to him. You knocked on the door and it wasn’t long until he answered it. As soon as he saw you his face fell visibly.

‘Can we talk?’ You asked hoping he would let you into his room. He paused to consider it then stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him. He stood there with his arms crossed and waited for you to talk.

‘Is there something I did wrong?’ You ask him and he keeps a blank face.

‘Why do you care?’ He asks still arms crossed over his body.

‘I care because you are always scoffing or rolling your eyes at me whenever I try to talk to you.’

‘I’m not scoffing or rolling my eyes now.’ He points out.

‘No but you’re not exactly being very friendly.’

‘Would you prefer for me to fake it then? Just put on a smile and pretend to like you?’ He jabs. You take a moment to process what he just said. You didn’t realise he could be so mean.

‘No Bucky I would prefer for you to maybe make an effort to get to know me before making a judgement.’ You scowl at him.

‘I have a perfectly fine judgement of you. I am not going to fall for your fake smiles and fake friendships.’ Bucky snarls and walks back into his room closing his door in your face. You are left to stand there in shock.

On the other side of the door Bucky is leaning there conflicted. The shock on your face looked so genuine. No, he has to remember it is all an act with you.

From that day on you decided you weren’t going to make an effort with him. It wasn’t the most mature decision but you were tired. What used to be eye rolls and scoffs, now turned into snarky comments and you were no longer afraid to throw them right back at him.

Steve had tried a few times to talk to you about it but, when he couldn’t tell you why Bucky hated you, he realised there was nothing he could do to change how either of you felt about the other. What he could do was change up your schedules so the two of you were rarely ever in the same room together.

Unfortunately, instead of the arguments happening quite calmly but consistently over the course of the whole day. They were now much shorter, confined to just mealtimes, and much more heated and intense. None of the team knew which was worse.

You were sparring in the gym with Natasha trying to work off some steam from this morning’s argument with Bucky.

‘Your moves are sloppy, get whatever is making you emotional out of your head.’ She grunts at you but this only forces you further into your head.

You go hard at her, but she blocks every move so you go to defence. She smirks at you, ‘Has a certain super soldier got into your head?’

That causes a surge of anger to hit you and again you go hard at Natasha, but your anger only allows her to catch you off balance and you are pinned to the mat in a matter of seconds.

‘So it is Barnes.’ She pulls you up and you brush yourself off before getting back into a fighting stance.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ You grunt at her and start your attack. Your moves are still predictable and anger clouds your mind. You feel yourself getting more and more worked up with every hit she blocks.

You retreat to take a breather, you hear the door open and you glance over, the man of the hour has just entered and you roll your eyes but continue to spar with Natasha.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him make his way over to you both, watching as you take a lot of hits from her and barely manage to land any of your own.

‘I have seen toddlers fight better than you Y/N.’ You hear him chuckle.

‘I don’t need your opinion.’ You grunt, still trying to keep your focus on Natasha.

‘Fight like that on the field and you’ll be dead in two seconds.’

‘Keep talking and you’ll wish you were dead.’

He laughs ‘Is that a threat?’ You ignore him and continue sparring. ‘Your punches are so weak, how did you become an Avenger again?’ He is still smiling knowing exactly which buttons to push.

You stop and make your way over to him. ‘I became an Avenger because of my talent and my strength, that I worked hard to earn.’ You are right up in his face, almost chest to chest. You are breathing hard, partly from the exercise but mostly because of how riled up you are. You notice he is breathing hard as well, his breath fanning across your face.

Your mind can’t help but drift, is this what he would look like in bed, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. Small beads of sweat gathered at his hairline from his recent run. You suddenly realise how close the two of you are and force the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. You hate how seeing him so riled up is actually a huge turn on. How could you let yourself be attracted to such an asshole?

‘You wouldn’t stand a chance against me.’ His voice drops so low that in a different circumstance you would have happily dropped your panties.

‘You’re right. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you and your metal arm that you were given. Or you and the super soldier serum that you were given.’ You know they are cheap shots but you just couldn’t help how absolutely fuming he makes you. He had managed to get under your skin and the thought of him being successful only made you angrier.

He leans down even more, your noses almost touching ‘I don’t know how everyone else can’t see through your little nice act. You pretend to be so kind on the outside but deep down you’re a bitch.’ Ouch. You deserved that one for what you said to him but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Especially because if you were hooked up to a lie detector and asked to say those things again, it would flash up as a blatant lie. However, looking into his eyes there was not an ounce of regret for what he said.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t have said what he did, but you had hit a nerve and it was the only thing he could think to say back. He saw the hurt flash across your eyes but it was too late to take it back now. The only thing he could do was exit the situation before it got any worse. He turned on his heels and left the room, leaving you standing there in complete shock at your exchange.

Natasha calls your name but you quickly leave for your room before anyone can see you like this.

The team was split all across the base. This wasn’t how you would usually handle missions but as soon as you arrived the mission started to go sideways.

‘Target headed towards the west elevator. Anyone nearby copy?’ You hear Steve’s voice through comms.

‘I'm on it.’ You say back, your comms crackling more than usual.

‘Copy that.’ Bucky said, his comms crackling from the two of you talking at the same time.

The rest of the team had heard both of your voices but neither of you had heard the other. So it was a big shock when you were waiting for the elevator and you heard his voice behind you.

‘You have got to be kidding me.’ He sighs and slowly walks up to you to wait for the elevator as well. ‘Did you not hear me say I got it?’ He snaps at you.

‘No because I was the one that said I’m on it.’ You snap back and thankfully the elevator dings it’s arrival. Normally in creepy Hydra bases you would avoid elevators but seeing as there was no stairwell nearby, this was the only option.

‘Age before beauty.’ You say to him, gesturing to the elevator.

‘Very funny’ he says sarcastically before stepping inside. You follow after him and press the only floor button available.

Silence permeates the small space as you prepare for what’s to happen once the doors open. Instead, the elevator jerks to a stop.

‘No.’ You panic and start pressing the floor button over and over. ‘No no no no no.’ Nothing is working.

‘Let me try.’ Bucky says pushing you out of the way, you so badly want to say something but the only thing you can focus on is the fact you might be trapped. Bucky taps the button and looks around for anything else to press but there is nothing. You can feel yourself start to get light headed as claustrophobia takes hold and the thought of falling to your death in this metal box takes over your thoughts. You shrink down onto the floor and hold your head in your hands.

‘Do you always have to be so dramatic?’ Bucky huffs. You don’t answer him, the only thing you can think about is the pain starting in your chest and your breathing getting heavier.

‘Stop breathing so fast. You are going to make yourself pass out.’ Bucky grunts but when you don’t reply or make any effort to slow your breathing he gets worried. He kneels down in front of you ‘Hey? Doll? Can you hear me?’ You can’t answer him, you just feel the impending doom and the immense pressure on your chest. ‘I’m going to move your hands.’ He announces then you feel him take your hands and pull them away from your face. You look at him, tears in your eyes, a look of pure fear across your face. ‘Breathe with me, doll. Can you do that?’ He asks and you manage to nod. He speeds his breathing up to your pace then gradually slows it, you follow him as best as you can and eventually you get your breathing back to normal, with the occasional hiccup or sharp intake.

Once he sees you are ok, he lets go of your hands and sits on the floor as far away as he can. You both continue to sit in silence.

‘Thank you.’ You eventually manage to whisper, he nods without meeting your eye.

You can’t help but feel disappointed, you just got to see a caring side of Bucky and it felt amazing to be on the receiving end of it, but now you are back to him not giving a shit about you. You go back and forth wondering whether it is the right time to bring up the issues between you two. If not now, when?

‘Why do you hate me so much?’ He looks across at you and sighs before he answers.

‘I don’t hate you.’

‘Yes you do. It seems like you go out of your way to make me miserable.’ You push, making him lean his head back on the wall behind him.

‘I don’t hate you. I just don’t like how you formed opinions about me so early on. You wanted me off the team before I even got cleared to be on the team.’ Bucky explains. You stare at him in confusion.

‘How do you know what opinions I formed of you? I may have wanted you off the team but it was only because you were mean and that was after you were cleared.’ You could feel yourself starting to get angry.

‘Then how come I overheard you talking about the first time we met to Nat, you said I was blunt and rude. Then after I accidentally bumped into you, you told Steve you wanted me off the team.’ Bucky says agitatedly.

‘I never-‘ you think back to any conversations you had with Nat and Steve about Bucky. The only ones that came to mind were asking them if they knew why Bucky didn’t like you. Then it hits you, he had overheard you talking to Steve and Nat about Arthur. You sighed.

‘Let me guess, you overheard me and Nat talking not long after we first met. We were in Nat’s room getting ready to go train?’ You ask and he nods.

‘Then the conversation you overheard with Steve was straight after we bumped into each other. We were in the common room?’ Bucky looks confused but nods again.

‘You are such a prick. You eavesdrop but don’t even listen long enough to hear who we were talking about.’ You can’t help but chuckle at the situation, even though it’s not particularly funny.

‘What?’ Bucky looks more confused than ever.

‘Well, if you had listened properly to the whole conversation you would know I was talking about that asshat agent, Arthur.’ That came out more blunt than you intended.

‘The recruit that got bumped down a few squads even though he is really good?’

‘Yep. That’s the one’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Before you came Steve and Nat had been setting me up on blind dates with people. Arthur was the fifth one, I really didn’t want to go so Steve convinced me by saying they were friends and all this nice stuff about him.’ You pause to take a deep breath. ‘The day we met, I had just come from the date with him and it was awful. That's what me and Nat were talking about. Then when we bumped into each other in the hallway, I had just come from a meeting with the recruits. Arthur had been inappropriate and he hurt my arm, I was rushing to Steve to tell him and ask if he can be kicked off the team.’ You finally manage to say and Bucky just looks at you. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he is finally getting context to the snippets of conversation he overheard.

‘Shit. I am so sorry. I am such an idiot.’ He scolds himself and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

‘I am not going to disagree with you, but we have both said and done some pretty nasty stuff. I am sorry for any hurt I caused you.’ You say sincerely and he looks over to you and smiles.

‘So you didn’t think I was rude when we first met?’ He still holds your eye contact and you take a moment to look at him. You have never seen him look so vulnerable before, he almost looked scared.

‘No, Bucky, I thought you were probably nervous or tired from meeting loads of new people.’ You explain and his shoulders fall.

‘I feel like such a jerk.’ He sighs and you scoot yourself closer to him so he has to look at you.

‘I’m not all that innocent in this either. It was a misunderstanding. I am just glad we have cleared it up now.’ You say meaning it and he smiles earnestly back at you. It is something you have never experienced first-hand. You have seen him give those gorgeous, slightly lopsided, smiles to other people but seeing one directed at you causes a rush of heat to your cheeks and you find yourself blushing.

Bucky must have been thinking along the same lines ‘You’re cute when you blush. I have never seen this side of you before.’ He brushes some hair out of your face and behind your ear. ‘You know, part of the reason I was so nervous when I first met you was because I was taken off guard by how beautiful you are.’ His cheeks flush slightly at his confession.

Before you can say anything the elevator jerks again and starts moving, you and Bucky are quick on your feet, preparing yourself for the doors to open.

When they finally do you are met with a group of Hydra agents ready to attack. You and Bucky work in tandem, playing off each other’s strengths. When the Hydra agents realize this, they work to separate you. The majority of them are on Bucky but you are fighting four at once. You are onto the last one when he raises his gun to shoot but you force his arm down. Not quick enough, it fires and clips your calf causing you to cry out from the pain

It is not as bad as actually being shot in the leg but it still hurts like hell and you can’t put pressure on it. The room is pretty silent apart from footsteps you recognise to be Bucky approaching. You move quickly and uppercut the guy in the nose. The crack echoes throughout the room as the guy falls to the floor at your feet.

You turn to Bucky, his mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock. ‘That was hot.’ He announces finally, making you laugh, you go to take a step towards him but realise too late that your injured leg won’t hold your weight. You would have fallen to the floor if Bucky hadn’t rushed to catch you.

‘Thanks.’ You chuckle, your faces are extremely close. Your eyes completely entranced in his. Your whole body warms at the safe feeling of being in his arms. You start to wonder what it would be like to fall asleep in these arms, to wake up the next morning still wrapped up in them. Protected.

You force yourself back to reality by clearing your throat. ‘We should probably get back to the team.’ You say and he nods. He puts his arm around your waist and you put yours over his shoulders to use him as a crutch.

The ride back up in the elevator goes smoothly this time and before you know it you are hobbling up to the quinjet where the rest of the team awaits. Natasha and Steve are both looking back and forth from you to Bucky in confusion.

‘What the hell happened?’ Steve asks not trying to hide how baffled he is that you and Bucky are holding onto each other and not arguing. Natasha simply smirks. Bucky helps you into a seat then sits opposite you with a wink as you smile at him.

‘No, this is too weird. Please argue, bicker, roll your eyes. Anything.’ Sam begs Bucky who doesn’t break his eye contact with you. Bucky simply laughs knowing his behaviour is unsettling Sam and enjoying the newfound comradery with you.

1K notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (ii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, stealing cultural landmarks, frustrated bucky

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: made a header 4 this fic but i couldn’t take it seriously enough <3

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! it’s always fun to hear from y’all.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

It’s roughly a week before he sees you next.

Right on time too, according to the briefings he had received. Once a week you’d come up with your next batshit crazy idea and someone would be sent to make sure you didn’t execute it.

It was more of a babysitting gig than anything. Most people would do one, maybe two assignments before asking to not be sent again.

He was not most people. He volunteers to go again. His afternoon is relatively free and he’s bored.

Also, and more importantly, he needs to get out of the house before Sam finds out what he did.

“You’ll find her near the Statue of Liberty.”

“How do we know?”

“Oh, she tells us.”

“...she tells us where to find her?”

“Most times, yes. She says it’s time efficient.”

Absurd. He thinks you’re absurd.

Bucky finds you in line to board the ferry. You’re dressed to the nines like an obnoxious tourist, even though you were a local, topped with binoculars and a bucket hat.

On an unrelated note, he thinks that maybe the mission today is to kill you for daring to wear sandals with socks like a suburban dad. A shudder runs through his body when he sees it.

He’s wearing all black and a baseball cap. Somehow he’s standing out more than you are.

He boards the ferry behind you, keeping a close eye on all your movements. You take your place near the railing, a seat near the front of the boat.

His phone rings. He answers it, expecting Sam to screech at him for painting Redwing neon pink again. He should have known it was coming after he shoved Bucky off the quinjet before he had time to strap his parachute on properly.

“I thought I told you to bring a cape.”

He quickly looks up at you but you’re not facing him. You have your phone held up to your ear, however.

“How did you get this number?” he asks icily.

“I knew you’d show up again.” Your head tilts to look at the statue in the distance. “Also, thanks for the door money, but I’m not sure I appreciate how you think the least creepy way to give someone money is to drop it off anonymously at their doorstep.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He swiftly gets up, stalking over to where you’re sitting. He was advised not to do anything aggressive. Advised was a flexible word.

“Because I wasn’t going to answer it.” You look up at his figure looming over you. “Oh, hey.”

The phone is still pressed to the side of your face even though he’s right beside you. He cuts the call, shoving it back into his pocket.

“Allow me to introduce my pl-”

“What are you doing here?” He cuts to the chase.

You send him a glare. “I was going to say it before you told me to. And sit down before everyone thinks you’re going to kill me.”

“Why are you going there?” He doesn’t have time for this, he thinks. He has important things to do. Like watching the reruns of Masterchef Junior.

He sits in the seat beside you.

“Look at us.” You grin at him. “Me with the evilest outfit I could think of, you with your... Addams Family cosplay. We’re like, two peas in a po-”

“Start explaining,” he interjects.

You roll your eyes. “I’m going to shrink the Statue of Liberty and use it as a keychain.”

“What?” It’s probably the most benign plan he’s ever heard in his life.

“I’m kidding.” Oh, good. “I’m not using it as a keychain, I’m taking it to class.” Nevermind.

“What?” He finds himself repeating his previous question.

“I’m shrinking all the statues I can find. I want to use it in my classroom to teach the kids.”

“You’re... a teacher?” He blinks.

“You got a problem with that?” You look offended, to say the least.

“No.” It’s not what he would peg your occupation as. He didn’t think you had one at all. “How are you planning on shrinking it?”

You rummage through the ugliest fanny pack he has ever had the misfortune of seeing. You pull out a small ring box, complete with a bow tied neatly on top.

“I was saving this for our third anniversary, but-” you offer him a nervous laugh.

His stony expression doesn’t change, not even a blink.

“Fine, Jesus, you’re no fun,” you huff, dropping the emotional act when he doesn’t look amused.

You flip open the lid. Inside there are a few small disks. It looks familiar, he realises.

“Your friend Ant-Boy didn’t file a patent, so I just took his whole shtick.” He wants to defend Scott’s honour; it’s Ant-Man not boy. He doesn’t. He’s too transfixed on what you have in your hand.

“Pym particles.”

“The diet version.” You pick up one of them carefully. “A ripoff, but effective. Just gotta attach it to the thing I want to shrink and give it a few minutes.”

“You’re going to steal the Statue of Liberty,” he says, frankly a little taken aback that you were serious.

“Would you relax? I’ll put it back.”

“That’s not the point,” he damn near exclaims. “You can’t take away the Statue of Liberty just because you feel like it.”

“I literally can.” You point to the chips in your hand. “That’s the point of this, keep up.”

He feels exasperated. He didn’t sign up for this when he became an Avenger.

“Give me the box.” He makes a grab for it but you yank it away from his reach.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I don’t have time for this.” His reruns would begin in an hour.

“That’s my problem, because...” you trail off.

He rolls his eyes, makes a grab at the box again. His tactic is different this time. He stealthily pins one of your arms down so that you’re basically incapacitated.

“Hey! Stop that.” You fumble against his reach, shoving him with your elbow.

“Just give me the thing and we can all go home for the day,” he huffs, unfazed by your squirming.

“No! Over my dead bod-”

He doesn’t immediately notice what goes wrong in the scuffle.

Until you look at the ground near your feet. A disk lay there, undisturbed.

“Is that-” All of a sudden, either he’s getting taller or the ceiling of the boat is getting lower.

“Oops,” you say, not remorseful in the slightest.

“Are we going to-”

“I’d give it five minutes max.”

Great. He was stuck on a boat that was beginning to shrink. The other passengers were either oblivious or ignorant to seats that were starting to become too small for them, but Bucky’s heightened senses and extreme reflexes made it hard to skip.

He nudges the piece of tech with his foot. Maybe he can kick it off the boat.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you warn solemnly. He wants to disagree but doesn’t know enough about the device to dispute you.

“Fix this,” he hisses, panic slightly rising. His fingers find their way to his phone to send out an emergency text requesting backup and mass evacuation.

“I think it’s a rather lovely day for a swim, don’t you?” You stare dreamily at the waves that were inching closer up the boat.

Or you were inching closer to the water. Technicalities were frivolous.

“There are other people on this boat.”

“River’s big enough for all of us, I reckon.”

“Fix it.”

“Or what?” There’s a wicked gleam in your eye. “We both know I have the upper hand here.”

“Or I call the entirety of the Avengers here and haul your ass to prison.”

“Will they bring snacks?”

You’re insufferable. You know it. But you also are the fastest way to get out of this situation and right now, he didn’t want to be responsible for a shipwreck simulation.

“Fine. Tell me what you want.”

“I like soy chips.”

“Soy chi-” He nearly throws his hands up in frustration. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I want one historical artifact so I can impress the kids. They think I’m the cool teacher and I want to keep that reputation alive.”

“What makes you think I can arrange for that?”

“You’ve been alive since goddamn dinosaurs roamed this earth, I’m sure you have some connections.” You pause to assess his face. “You know, you don’t look a day over 29. Dermatologists must hate yo-”

“I’ll get you an artifact, now fix the fuckin’ boat.”

“You promise?” You grin brightly.

He stares at you. You are unyielding.

The boat’s uncomfortably small and people are beginning to take notice. Worried murmurs fill the air behind him.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You shrug simply.

You kneel over, picking up the chip from the ground. You do nothing else for two minutes, instead turning away from him to look at the Statue of Liberty that was coming closer.

It takes him a while to realise that half his body isn’t hanging off his chair anymore. The ceiling is moving further and further away from the top of his head.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He wants to strangle you.

Why did he listen to you when all of this would have been over the minute he kicked it off the ship.

“You can drop it off at my lair on Monday and pick it up on Friday.” You gather your belongings, leaving him steaming behind you. “Nice talkin’ to ya, Sergeant.”

You step over him, flashing him a quick smile before walking off the boat with the rest of the tourists as if nothing had just taken place. When he looks down, the stupid ring box is on his lap.

He sits there, unmoving, eyes fixed on the container.

The ferry conductor asks if he’s going to get off the boat.

He simply shakes his head.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

1K notes · View notes

1kook · 4 years

Text

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!!

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that.

—

#goldenclosetnet #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jjk fic #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

No Going Back

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Request : good morning. i wanna request number 8. “Maybe you should just leave now.” angst/fighting dialogue. to be correct it is for billy russo right?

A/N: yes it's my Billy boy :') he a lil soft in this though but also an asshole lmaooo not gonna lie, this one had me swept up in the emotion. It hit quite close to home and now I'm sad :')

Warnings: cursing, angst, sadness and heartbreak. Billy fucked up big time lol

Your hands were shaking as you slammed the door to your apartment. Tears stained your cheeks and you kicked your heels off before storming to your bedroom, grabbing a duffel bag and starting to pack his things that he'd left around. Heartbroken didn't even cover it.

You knew this would happen, it's why you fought against it for so long. But you were stupid and ended falling for his bullshit and now you were a mess.

You and Billy had been together officially for 7 months. You'd met a year ago at a bar and hit it off, but when he tried to take you home you'd denied him. That apparently piqued his interest even more. He'd always be at the bar every Friday when you went and it was always easy to just be yourself around him. You didn't take him up on his offer and he would offer every time. He never made it a secret that he wanted you.

But as the months drew on, you both got to know each other more and it became a sort of friendship. You had to admit you felt something when you looked forward to seeing him. He'd asked you once why you were so against it and you'd been pretty blunt with him. You knew of his reputation and you weren't into it. You didn't do one night stands or casual sex. You wanted a relationship, someone to settle down with. You wanted something real. You told him you didn't think he was capable of that and he'd break your heart.

Five months into knowing each other and he'd switched from just wanting to fuck you to wanting to actually date you and you'd still put up a fight. But as your feelings for him grew, he wore you down. The moment you agreed to that date, which he'd been over the moon about, everything changed.

It had been so easy to be with him. He treated you like a queen, was more affectionate than you'd have thought, and you enjoyed each other's company. He was busy with Anvil a lot so you didn't see him every day but he'd call if he couldn't see you or send you sweet texts. He swore to you up and down that he'd never hurt you, never do what you'd thought he would do when you turned him down all those times.

You'd see the looks women gave him when you went out together or were at an event as his date and sometimes you'd feel insecure. But he only had eyes for you it seemed and it reassured you. It lulled you into a false sense of security that he'd actually changed. That he actually cared about you.

But you were wrong. So very fucking wrong and now you were paying for it. You'd been having dinner with a friend you hadn't seen in a while when it happened. Your eyes finding Billy across the restaurant. He was sat with a pretty blonde, very up close and intimate as they whispered god knows what to each other. You'd felt your heart crack but tried to deny it. It was just flirting, nothing more. But then… he'd leaned in and kissed her.

You'd shot out of your seat so fast the chair fell over and ran out of the place like someone had lit a fire up your ass. And you knew he'd seen you because you heard him shouting your name as you jumped into a cab and left.

You hated yourself for being surprised at what he'd done. You'd told him this was exactly how it would go but he'd swore to you. And you allowed yourself to buy into his bullshit because you loved him.

Most of his things packed, you padded over to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine, pouring a large glass. You swigged it in one and felt the warmth bloom in your chest. It did little to ease the hopeless sorrow that consumed you though.

There was a rough knock at your door and you heard Billy call your name loudly. You tensed, heart breaking all over again as the tears seemed to be never ending. You didn't want to talk to him, to even look at him. But this was it. You couldn't stay with him, not now. You'd never be able to trust him again. You knew you had to tell him it was done so you could lick your wounds and heal from the pain.

"Y/N, please… open the door," Billy begged from the other side. You walked over, unlocking it but not opening it as you stormed back off to your bedroom. You knew he'd let himself in. You heard his heavy footsteps entering as you shoved another of his shirts in the bag, one you liked to sleep with.

"Can we talk?" He asked hesitantly.

"No," you bit out, eyes snapping to him. His face fell when he saw you crying and he took a tentative step into the room.

"Please, Y/N, let me explain," he frowned. You laughed but it held no joy. Only a deep rooted pain that was latched onto your soul.

"Explain? Really? What, you gonna say you tripped and your mouth landed on hers?! I saw it with my own eyes, Billy! You don't need to explain anything!" You roared, pure pain lacing your words.

He clenched his jaw as he shook his head, eyes glassy as he stared at you.

"I'm-I'm sorry," he started softly, reaching out to grab your arm but you smacked it away harshly. He looked like a kicked puppy and you hated it. He didn't get to be upset about this.

"How long have you been fucking her then?" You asked snidely as you grabbed the duffel bag, holding it in a death grip.

"I haven't fucked her," he muttered quietly. You snorted deprecatingly and he bit down on his lower lip.

"Yet?" You asked knowingly. His guilty glance to the floor told you everything you needed to know.

"How long, Billy? How long have you been cheating on me?" You asked, your voice wavered but your gaze had nothing but fire in it and he shifted where he stood. He couldn't look at you.

"A month. It was always one night, I never went back to someone," he frowned. Pain clawed its way through your chest and you threw the bag at him hard. He caught it but stumbled a little and he looked at you forlornly.

"Well, I guess that makes it better then, right?" You asked coldly and he flinched.

You stormed past him back to the kitchen area and he followed quickly.

"Please listen to me, Y/N. I need to make this right," he pleaded desperately. You whirled around to face him, face flushed and tear stained and you felt like you wanted to scream.

"Why? Why did you just decide after 6 months together to do this to me? You promised me, Billy! I knew this would happen but you fought for this! For us! Why?! Just so you could break my heart?!" You bellowed, a mix of anger and utter despair in your tone.

His lower lip quivered and he bit down on it, staring at the floor.

"I never wanted to hurt you. I swear, I didn't. I just…" his voice cracked as his teary eyes landed on you.

"Maybe you should just leave now," you uttered. Your whole body was trembling and you felt sick. You couldn't stand to look at him. He stepped closer to you, dropping the bag on the floor but you took a step back. It would be far too easy to fall for his bullshit again and if he touched you, you didn't think you'd be able to get him to leave.

It felt like pure pain ripped through your chest, the weight of the world crashing down around you. You slumped onto a dining chair as a raw sob clawed its way out. Billy was kneeling in front of you in seconds, his own cheeks now damp as he cupped your cheeks. You moved your head from his grip and shook your head.

"I loved you, you know that?" You whispered brokenly though your tears. You'd never outright said it, mostly in fear of his reaction. But it had all gone to shit anyway. His lip trembled again, scrunching his nose up a little as he shook his head. He looked utterly devastated and it made you angry so you continued.

"I loved you with everything I had. I trusted you with my life. I ripped out my own beating heart and willingly gave it to you because you swore to me you wouldn't do this. You just took it and stomped all over it. How could you do this to me?" Your last words were strained as the tears flowed freely.

"Please let me fix this," he begged helplessly. He was crying openly now, not trying to hide it as he gazed at you from the floor.

"You can't fix it. I'll never be able to trust you again. It's not just the sex, Billy! You've been lying to me for a month. All those business meetings or times you were away? And you just… you'd come back to me with a smile and tell me sweet words. Looked me in the fucking eye and not feel guilty," you choked out. He shook his head vigorously, hands clasping yours so tight you couldn't pull them away.

"You've got no idea how guilty I felt. It's been eatin' me up from the inside out," he lamented.

"Why would you…? What was it? You just got bored of me? Decided you didn't want me anymore? You should have just ended this because it would hurt less than this," you wept pitifully. He shook his head, clutching your hands tighter.

"Don't… Don't say that, I do want you. I know I don't deserve you, I know I'm an asshole. And… and maybe I shoulda left it alone when you told me this would happen, but I was selfish and I-I couldn't. You were never like the others. I knew that from the moment we met. But then… then things were gettin' serious and I just… I freaked out and went back to my default 'cause I didn't know how to…'' he cried, screwing his face up as he hung his head.

You sobbed as you stood, his hands falling away and you moved to lean against the table as he stood.

"It would be bad enough if I'd just got with you in the first place and you did this. But I wanted to avoid this. I tried so hard but you kept on at it. And it hurts so much more because you promised me you wouldn't do this and I believed you. I thought you'd changed, that you…" you ran a hand through your hair, tugging on it as the tears wouldn't stop.

He stepped to you, grasping your face in both hands and you couldn't bring yourself to fight it despite the pain it brought you. His endless eyes were all consuming, his cheeks wet from his own tears.

"Please… please, Y/N, don't do this. Let me make it right," he begged tearfully.

"Without trust, we have nothing. Everytime you're on your phone I'd wonder if you were talking to another woman. When you're out I'd be paranoid about who you were with. I can't live like that, Billy. I can't live my life in… in an anxious, jealous haze. That's not a relationship," you whispered.

He made a pained noise and it squeezed your heart so hard you thought it might implode.

"I was never good enough for you. I knew that. But I wanted… I wanted to try and be-be a good man… for you. And I fucked up so bad and I just…" his words trailed off into a hopeless sob and you squeezed your eyes shut. You wished there was a way to fix this but there wasn't. You wouldn't be in one of those relationships without trust. Checking your partner's phone and always checking in. It would break you.

"You need to leave, Billy," your words were a mere breath and his hands on your face tightened for a moment before they fell to his sides. He looked completely broken and you were sure you looked the same. He opened his mouth before promptly closing it, his jaw ticking as he moved away and pushed the heels of his palms to his eyes.

You wrapped your arms around yourself like it would protect you from the pain and glared at the floor. You could still feel his gaze burning into you. You glanced at him as he grabbed the bag and slung it over his shoulder. You had to fight the urge to grab onto him as he walked to your door. You felt like you were dying.

He grabbed the handle but stopped, not looking at you as his body tensed.

"I want you to know… I love you too," his pained words felt like a punch to the gut and you covered your mouth with a hand but it did little to stop the noise that left your lips. He looked over his shoulder at you, still holding the door handle.

"I know that… right now you probably don't believe me, but I do. And I'm sorry. I-I never wanted you to get hurt. You deserve so much better," he muttered despondently. With that, he opened the door and slipped out of your apartment. Of your life.

You fell to the floor as heaving sobs left your chest. It would have been easier if he came here being an asshole. Cold and emotionless like you knew he could be at times. But seeing him, his emotions so raw and on display, it cut you deeper than any knife could. And you believed him. You knew him well enough to believe that he fell in love with you and freaked out. You knew it would happen which is why you'd turned him down at the start. You believed he never wanted to hurt you. And you wished you could forgive him. You saw how much it hurt him too but you couldn't. You couldn't get over the betrayal and you didn't think you ever could.

He'd sabotaged what you both had because of his inability to deal with what he felt and the bitter knowledge that if he'd just accepted it, how different your future would be with him, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Billy had opened up to you a lot in your time together about his past and you knew how much it had messed him up. You knew it left him struggling with emotions and relationships and you felt for him. For the lost boy who'd never felt love and didn't know how to cope with it. But nothing could erase the heartbreak. The hurt that he'd given you. Because even if you'd one day be able to forgive him, you'd never be able to forget.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Attached: Word Is that We Might Work It Out

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 6850🙈

Summary: You said yes to Professor Rogers – Steve – taking you out for ‘coffee’. Ball’s in your court – and you decide to make your move.

A date, maybe first of many, maybe not. A date with the gorgeous professor who happened to read your erotica about him. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: alcohol consumption, professor-student relationship and unspecified age gap, language, lots of fluff

A/N: Timeline-wise, this one-shot fits in after chapter four of Attached!!! At the end, you can find the reason behind me writing this. You can consider it one big flashback, if you will 😅 Gif by capchrisevaans.

Series masterlist | previous in timeline

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You lasted one day. One full day since the encounter in the office, since Professor Rogers admitted he would like to take you out for coffee or something similar. Since you two exchanged numbers.

It took you twenty-four hours – maybe less – to decide that so what if that might be a bad idea. It was not against the university rules and Professor Steve Rogers was a fucking specimen who also seemed to be a genuinely nice human being and if you allowed yourself to play chicken just because something only might go wrong in the future, you’d be an idiot.

Penny, your roomie, wholeheartedly agreed. She actually punched the air in victory as you were nursing a greasy lunch due to the wild-ish celebration of the end of the semester together the night prior and you just said to the void: “You know what, screw it. I’m gonna go for it.”

You didn’t even have to say what you were talking about – Professor Rogers had been the topic ever since the faithful Monday.

So you texted him that if the offer still stood, you’d like to meet up on Friday evening. Was he free?

Hey, Y/N :) Thank you for reaching out. Friday sounds great. Do you have anything specific in mind?

“Dude. He’s such a cutie. Who even texts like that?” Penny chuckled, a wide grin on her face as you couldn’t but read the text out loud.

“I texted him like that.”

“Touché. Because you want to impress mister ‘hot as fuck intellectual’ there.”

You just rolled your eyes, neither confirming nor denying. Mostly because Penny was right. But he was the first to use an emoji and… yeah, cutie indeed.

Well, I never say no to dinner and I’m down for almost anything-

“I bet you are,” Penny hummed to your ear and you swung after her blindly and thought of a better phrasing.

Well, I never say no to a dinner and I’m not picky. You choose. Seven-ish sounds good?

“Spoilsport.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder!” you chuckled and bit your lip as the answer came almost immediately.

Seven is alright. I’ll think of something to treat a girl right ;)

Your stomach made a small somersault, your face instantly radiating heat at the possible innuendo. The phone vibrated again before you could fully process the image your mind painted of him actually saying it in his gentle timbre.

Just so we’re clear, what is the nature of the dinner? It can be whatever you feel comfortable with.

Your heart leaped into your throat, hammering wildly.

That was the question, wasn’t it? Since you texted him, you made one thing clear with yourself. If you were doing this, it was going to be a date. You wouldn’t be doing things by halves.

Penny next to you made a noise that sounded as something between an aww and her gagging on nothing. “He’s disgustingly considerate for a man his age planning on going out with a girl your age.”

“He’s not that much older,” you protested instantly, frowning. He wasn’t. She knew that; you had both done your research. “And I think it’s amazing.”

You caught Penny’s smile from the corner of your eye as you typed.

“Well, it is kinda sweet. And I know he’s not, I’m messing with you. It’s just-- DON’T SEND HIM THAT!”

“Why?” you questioned, looking at her quizzically and totally clicking on send on purpose at the same time.

I’d be comfortable with a date if you are.

“It’s so lame. Of course he’s comfortable with a date, he suggested it. Duh.”

The reply came way too fast and Penny chuckled behind you as your jaw went slack.

“You know what? Don’t mind me. Good job. Keep it up,” Penny patted your shoulder as you stared at the screen where Professor Steven Grant Rogers just texted you a damn heart.

It’s a date <3

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

It was a date indeed.

Steve texted you an address on Friday morning (along with an adorable good morning :) ), apologizing that he couldn’t pick you up, making sure you’d be alright getting there on your own. You found it absolutely sweet, considerate and smart. You suspected that his ‘inability’ to pick you up had something to do with the fact that you lived at the dorms and if he showed up there, it would be trending in the university chit-chat room within five minutes.

You spent a better part of the Friday afternoon researching the place and the weather forecast so you could dress accordingly and getting ready.

You were not ready for a date with Steve Rogers however; your nerves were a mess and nothing could ever prepare you for when he showed up perfectly on time in front of the restaurant---- wearing a suit no less.

How were you supposed to function when he was wearing such elegant clothing, a suit he filled up so fucking well?! And he looked just as breath-taking as always, stupidly perfect beard and slightly tousled hair you just wanted to run your fingers through and his smile was so gorgeous and--- Jesus Fucking Christ, the suit- how could you even put words together when looking at him-

“Wow, I feel so underdressed now.”

Clearly, you could speak just fine, only you lost your brain-to-mouth filter. Also, your mouth might have started watering and your heart was pounding like crazy. You would not survive tonight.

But, you also had a point. The restaurant was supposed to be a nice place, but relatively plain. And he showed up in amazingly fitting dress pants, white shirt, a tie and a suit jacket. So yes, you did feel underdressed.

“Oh no, no! You’re not,” he rushed to reassure you, eyeing your semi-leisure white dress with burgundy flowers with an attentive gaze that had you shifting your weight nervously. “I’m overdressed if anything. Sticking out like a sore thumb, I’m sorry.”

You could always just strip the suit jacket, was your first thought, but luckily for you, this time you managed to contain the words before they got out to the open.

“You’re fine,” you said instead, not knowing how else to react; needless to say you were grateful for the smile he gave you despite the double meaning.

Yes, he was fine indeed. Always. It was unfair, really.

“Thanks. You too. In fact, you look beautiful.”

Your heart stopped in your chest, your mind suddenly racing a mile per minute.

It was ridiculous. It was just a word. But for one, it was spoken so kindly and genuinely you couldn’t but think he meant it, for two, it was Professor Steve Rogers who told you that and--- beautiful.

You couldn’t remember a guy ever calling you beautiful.

Cute? Sure. Pretty? Maybe. Hot? Might have happened once or twice . But beautiful?

You might actually swoon.

And you were so lost in your head that you couldn’t but silently stare at the lethally handsome man in front of you and then it again registered in your brain that this was your fucking crush speaking to you and he was on a date with you and he had read your erotica, one that was about him no less-

Your face was set aflame in an instant and you… you couldn’t let out a word.

“It everything okay? Did I… did I say something wrong?” Steve asked hesitantly, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows and it reminded you of all the times you had seen him wearing such thoughtful expression in the two classes he taught instead of Professor Barnes and-

You were screwed.

Tonight was going to be a disaster.

“No, uhm, no, sorry--- maybe we should go inside or-“ you muttered, lightly gesturing towards the door and could you get any more awkward?

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.”

He let you walk in first like a real gentleman, the lightest skim of his fingers on your lower back, which caused your heartbeat to skyrocket; and only when the hostess seated you, you realized you never accepted his kind compliment.

It was too late for that now, you assumed, so you sipped at the still water which waited at each table, and repeated like a mantra to yourself that you needed to get your shit together otherwise you’d ruin your shot before the night even started.

But clearly, you succeeded at that already.

Whatever awkward aura you had around yourself, it seemed to extend now to him too – he shifted slightly in his seat (he had pulled out your chair for you before, because of course he had), his shoulders stiff. Despite that, he smiled at you over the menu.

“So… all exams worked out? Enjoying the freedom?” he asked casually.

“Oh, yes. Yeah.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” you uttered with a forced smile, your stomach twisted unpleasantly.

For some reason, you felt like you were having a lame attempt at small talk with a professor, which you were, but it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

Not tonight. Not on a date.

What were you even doing here? What were you playing at? Professor Steve Rogers was entirely out of your league, gorgeous, funny, kind and smart and here you were, barely making conversation.

It was pathetic really. It was embarrassing for both of you.

“You up to anything fun?” he queried, the question less enthusiastic than the one before. He was already growing tired of making your uncooperative brain work at least a bit, it was obvious.

Your gulped as the memory of last night popped in your head – staying in, quiet evening, in a mood for some dirty writing--- oh bless, another reminder of why this dinner was and should be really weird.

Steve read your smutty story. The one about him.

“Nothing special,” you squealed silently, earning a plain nod. “Eh, we went out with Penny, my roommate and best friend in one person. But mostly I just stayed in and--- caught up on sleeping.”

“I know what that’s like,” Steve hummed, clearly as grateful as you were when the waiter appeared by your table to take your orders.

Silence stretched as the man left, your hand beginning to fiddle with the neatly folded napkin on the table, lump growing in your throat due to your nerves.

“What about you? Anything… fun?” you asked reluctantly, noticing a brief smile passing Steve’s lips. Pretty, sinfully pretty lips. Perfect. Untouchable for mere mortals like you.

“Oh, not much. Few exam sittings, faculty meetings – we had one now, hence the suit-“

“You came here right from school?” you blurted out, startled – and clearly surprising him with your rudeness. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yes, I did. We have a meeting every last Friday of the month.”

“Oh my god, you must be so tired,” you sympathized with him quietly, the uneasy feeling in your stomach only growing. He came here straight from work and for this? “Why didn’t you say something? We could have postponed or something.”

Steve swiftly shook his head, his warm hand landing on yours, gently stopping your restless fingers. This time, it was butterflies in your stomach erupting with life, the sweet comforting gesture warming your heart. He wanted to be here. He came here for you. He was interested in you.

And the feeling was mutual. So why was it being so weird then?

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you reached out. I’m glad that you said yes in the first place,” he admitted, features softening despite the tension in his shoulders never leaving. His brows furrowed as he slowly withdrew his hand – it must have been an automatic reaction then. “I’m not that tired and… and maybe I was little worried that if I asked for a different date, then…”

He trailed off and your lips parted in surprise, your heart swelling in your chest at what he was implying.

Did he think you’d back out? Did he think that all the potential obstacles intimidated you too much? That you’d think it wasn’t worth it? That it wouldn’t work out anyway?

Seeing as you were now, you couldn’t blame him. Despite him being the world’s most charming man, here you were, being… not at all yourself, stressing for no reason.

It seemed to you that had had chemistry, back there in his office. This date made sense. When you imagined how this could unfold, well, it went a bit differently too. There was considerably less embarrassment going around.

This was why you preferred writing to speaking. That’s why you liked daydreaming. Because reality was often less than ideal, no script, awkward silences, misunderstandings…

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your food arrived.

You both thanked the waiter politely and you hoped that at least now you’d have a good excuse for the lack of normal conversation.

“What are you sorry for?”

You sighed and nibbled on your lower lip, not missing the way his gaze instinctively flickered there, pupils dilating just a fraction – but enough for you to notice. Your heart skipped a pleased beat – but the undeniable physical attraction couldn’t be enough.

“For this,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. His features twisted in disappointment and something that looked a lot like regret flashed in his eyes. “I want to be here, Steve. I really do. I don’t know what’s wrong with me-“

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” he was quick to oppose and you couldn’t help it as a wry chuckle escaped you.

“Well, there’s certainly nothing wrong with you. And still, there’s this…”

“…tension?”

You wished.

“Sort of? But not the fun kind, for sure.”

He grimaced, but a spark of amusement lit up his blue irises. “Awkward air around us?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed victoriously as he voiced exactly what you were thinking. Then you quickly lowered your voice, looking around. Luckily, no one stared at you. You realized you leaned closer to him over the table, your heart racing at that, but you didn’t withdraw; it was a lovely opportunity to get even a better look at his perfect face. “But I don’t know why!” You knew why. “I like you, Steve-“

“I like you too. And I know I already said that, but you look stunning.”

Your cheeks burned again, but this time, you managed to stutter out a thank you at least. Stunning, Jesus, was he for real?

“T-thank you. You look incredibly handsome too. Then again you always do—why did I say that.”

One corner of his lips quirked up.

“Why thank you, I’m glad you did. The feeling’s mutual, believe me.”

“Then why does this feel like one of the most awkward dates I’ve ever been to?!” you whisper-yelled, causing him to chuckle, the tips of his ears turning red.

His hand once again landed on yours, this time deliberately, the gesture warming you in more than one way.

“Well… I’m nervous. You might be too.” You hummed in agreement. Was that all it was? “But the way you said it, at least it seems to me that it could have been worse, right? More awkward?”

You felt the corners of your lips rise at the remark, shrugging. He had a point there. And he squeezed your hand a bit and good Lord, it should not be making your heart race so much, but he was touching you and he was being really sweet and his fingers were nice and warm and long-

“Tell me.”

You blinked in surprise, realizing you had been staring at your joined hands. You raised your gaze, finding him watching you with a subtle smile.

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me about the most awkward date you have ever been to,” he clarified, his thumb caressing your wrist.

You only hesitated for a beat before you nodded in agreement, god knew why. Perhaps you did need a reminder that this could have gone much more disastrously and it was mostly your traitorous brain telling you that you were messing everything up.

Plus, Steve deserved whatever he wanted – so far, he was the only reason this date wasn’t as disastrous as it could be.

“Okay. You ever been to a speed dating event, Steve? Because I have.”

“Oh, this is ought to be good,” he noted with another squeeze to your hand, before he released you. Shame. He sipped at his wine and dug into his pasta. “I’m all ears.”

This is ought to be good, Steve said. Well, maybe. You certainly hadn’t thought so at the time.

Explaining to Steve that as you had been under duress from no other than Penny, you both went to the event which promised you meeting ten dashing men in only an hour. You’d get five minutes with each, as anonymous as you’d wished to be, receiving a folder with nothing but a table with the first names of the men and a yes and no option and a line for your own notes about them.

You weren’t sure what to think of it – but after three epically failed Tinder attempts, you agreed to try. If nothing else, you’d gain a new experience.

And an experience had it been. You even lasted a month with one of the guys, but you didn’t tell Steve that. It wasn’t important.

André was.

André Whatever-was-his-last-name – because that was how it worked, no last names – definitely believed he was important. With the guys moving around the tables from one woman to another, spending five minutes with each, you could already hear André closing to your station from two tables over.

He was hard to tune out, courtesy of the colour of his voice, extremely unpleasant to your ears, and him never letting the woman he faced talk. Always interrupting. Always turning the conversation around so it would be about him.

Asshole.

You liked to think you weren’t quick to judge people, but André was making you cringe before you were even introduced. And then you actually were.

A minute into his monologue to you, you felt like you were being tortured.

And then the waitress managed to stumble and spill a glass of white wine – partly over your table, but mostly on the floor. At least she caught the glass and you had but a tiny spot on your dress.

“She was apologizing so profusely and I wasn’t thinking, okay. I went for the napkins few tables over to help and— I didn’t realize I put the open folder down for everyone to see,” you explained, feeling like face-palming when you remembered the night.

Steve watched you in anticipation, a small smirk and a knowing look on his face as he guessed you had already circled ‘no’ for André at the time.

Oh, you wished it were that simple. You felt your cheeks burn hot as you continued.

“André read it, of course. Obviously, he already got a hard ‘no’ from me, but… I might have written a tiny note for myself as to why,” you admitted and Steve’s eyebrow rose minutely, his curiosity piqued even more.

You took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t exactly kind to him. It was something along the lines of self-important asshole who probably compensated for something.” Steve huffed in amusement. But oh, if he only knew... you sighed and continued. “And If Draco Malfoy and Gilderoy Lockhart had a love child, this would be him.”

No sound came from your companion this time and your teeth anxiously sank into our lower lip, your pulse wavering. What was Steve thinking? Did he think you had been rude? Mean even? Nerdy? All of the above?

He stared at you for full three seconds, clearly rendered speechless by your harsh judgement.

And then he burst out laughing.

Suffocating weight fell from your shoulders and you silently joined him as you explained yourself.

“I was in my Harry Potter phase! And in my defence, I think it was actually pretty accurate...”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, sweetheart,” Steve chuckled lightly before laughing some more, irises twinkling with amusement and something… softer.

You shuddered upon hearing the endearment spill unwittingly from his lips, upon seeing the emotion on his face. And maybe you were a little proud of yourself for making him laugh and lose the tension in his shoulders completely.

“It was one of the longest and most awkward three minutes of my life, the silence that followed,” you huffed, massaging your forehead. “He did not appreciate the comparison.”

“I bet,” Steve cackled, taking another bite of his meal, smile playing in the corner of his lips as he swallowed and continued. “But you’ve got to give it to him, he knew his Harry Potter characters.”

“Ha! My thoughts exactly. But that’s a little bit of weak base for dating, I think, especially since I kinda already hated him.”

“Oh, you did? I didn’t catch that,” Steve joked lightly, causing you to smile despite the horrid memory.

And funnily enough, telling him and remembering it… it did make you feel better and more at ease with him.

“Ha ha ha, laugh it up, Professor. Your turn.”

“I’m sorry?” he said, clearly puzzled. It didn’t escape your notice as his voice faltered, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the addressing.

Oh, so that’ s still a thing. You couldn’t but smirk a bit at that.

“An awkward date. You have to share now, it’s only fair,” you shrugged, only for a terrible realization to dawn on you. “Please tell me there is at least one awkward date story, Steve. Tell me this isn’t really your worst date ever.”

He shook his head with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, there’s plenty. I’m just trying to think about one that won’t scare you away from me. I’d hate that.”

One corner of his lips raised, he looked you up and down, lingering on your lips for a bit before meeting your gaze, something you could only hope was fondness and wanton in his eyes. Your breath hitched, heat pooling in your abdomen at the thorough onceover despite the gentle tone of his voice.

Fuck how could he make you feel hot and soft at the same time.

Unable to stand the intensity of his stare, you lowered your gaze and gulped, your stomach making an excited slip. He did want you. You had been being silly, letting your nerves get the better of you.

Clearing your throat, you willed yourself to look up, finding him still watching closely – and perhaps, there was a hint of a red to his cheeks, the tip of his ears burning as if despite the blatant flirting, he was unsure of himself too, because he didn’t want to mess up with you either.

You found it absolutely endearing and your heart swelled. The way you got to see there was more to him than his professor side and his dashing looks… you felt incredibly lucky. The more you got to interact with him, the more it wasn’t just your sinful thoughts belonging to him – he was quickly working on stealing your heart as well.

Plucking up your courage, you were the one to reach out this time, carefully sweeping your thumb over the back of his hand, smiling.

“I’m not scared off all that easily, Steve.”

He mirrored your genuine smile, a glint of something you couldn’t read lighting up his eyes.

“That’s good to know,” he said lowly and sighed, narrowing his eyes as if he was assessing you again. “Alright, here goes…”

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You actually managed to get one more awkward date story from Steve, because frankly, his experiences were hilarious. And surprise surprise, he was a great narrator. Plus, while he talked, you could ogle him shamelessly without fear of looking strange.

But you guessed that since you were on a date, you could ogle him anyway. He didn’t seem to mind; in fact, whenever he got the opportunity, he reciprocated it. It finally did feel like a date, the air growing thicker as you gradually shifted closer and closer, the light touches prolonging, feet meeting under the table without parting as soon as they made contact.

Your belly kept warming up with each smile and laugh, with every second of the intense eye contact, with every flicker of his gaze to your lips and vice versa. Sharing a dessert was a terrible idea, because you wanted kiss the crumbs sticking on his lips away. You teased each other, you complimented each other – with Steve absolutely winning the undeclared contest – and you realized that despite sharing your most embarrassing dates with each other at the beginning, this was the absolute best you had ever been to.

And you didn’t want it to end.

The light sweater you had brought with you did nothing to shield you from the surprisingly lukewarm wind. As you wandered the streets, Steve finally heard out one of your first thoughts you had had when meeting him today – he shrugged off his suit jacket.

Which… yum. The seams of his shirt were crying for help and you could only think fo one way of helping them – taking his shirt off too. But alas, Steve didn’t continue the striptease, probably because you were on the street. Instead, he did the most wholesome thing and held out the jacket for you to slip into.

You only hesitated a moment, teeth sinking into your lower lip. How could you say no to that?

“That’s awfully cliché and really sweet at the same time,” you muttered, causing him to shrug, one corner of his lips raised in a smirk as he helped you put it on, forefinger most definitely deliberately caressing the side of your throat before withdrawing.

A shudder ran down your spine, electrifying feeling going straight to your core. The whiff of whatever cologne he was wearing enveloped you, clouding your senses. Goddammit he smelled so good.

“Maybe I just want to see you in my clothes,” he hummed, the suggestive remark knocking the breath straight out of your lungs.

Stepping to your side from behind your back, you caught a glimpse of his expression – a little bit smug, a little bit panicked as it probably registered with him just how much suggestive it was, perhaps crossing a line.

It was absolutely not crossing the line, because the thought of wearing his clothes, preferably grabbing it because you couldn’t find yours after you threw it all around the room as you frantically stripped each other was making your head spin in the best way.

“Maybe I’d really enjoy wearing your clothes after you rip off mine.”

Steve’s jaw went slack, a choked noise leaving him and you couldn’t but laugh at his dumbstruck expression. Surprise, professor, you little shit. I can keep up.

“That was… mean,” he said, clearing his throat. Your eyebrows rose, pot calling the kettle back style. “But I see how I deserved that.”

“Damn right… but that doesn’t mean it’s a lie,” you shrugged, chuckling at the exasperated look he shot you.

‘Man, she’s gonna fuck you up on a whole new level and I’ll be here for it in the front row with a bowl of popcorn,’ Barnes’ words to Steve which you weren’t meant to hear echoed in your head, making you grin.

The teasing was intense, yet you felt comfortable in it. You blamed Steve and his nature – he already felt like a guy to go lengths to make you feel at ease enough; the way he had kept insisting on you choosing whether this was a date or not only proved it. He made it easy to be yourself, making you feel like you could.

And he made it perfectly clear that he was enjoying seeing you like that, that he appreciated you as you were.

But the closer you got to the campus, the more the reality was settling in, your laughter fading, butterflies and heat replaced by anxiety. He was still a professor. If you went for it, it wouldn’t always be uncomplicated like this. The awkwardness crept in as your steps grew slower, the inevitable arriving.

He couldn’t walk you home, to walk you to the dorm, even if the desire to do so radiated from every fibre of his being. He couldn’t do that for the same reason he hadn’t picked you up.

You came to a stop, feeling like there was this invisible border to a safe, students-free part of the city, the line you couldn’t cross side by side.

“So, uhm… this is it, huh?” Steve hummed, grim. You appreciated the lame attempt at a smile though and reciprocated, turning to face him.

“Looks like it.”

Heavy silence settled over you pair. Your eyes trailed all over him, lingering on his face, noting as he did the same. He was beautiful; you didn’t care you should say that about a man. He was. The light in his eyes dimmed compared to that just a few moments ago, but it was still there, expression soft, almost as soft as his beard looked, causing your fingers to twitch in need to run them over it and pull him in for a kiss.

Your lips tingled as the idea. You had never kissed a man with a beard and you wanted to know how it felt. The fact it was Steve only sealed the deal and made the need grow exponentially.

You wanted to kiss him so bad. But here you stood, unable to move, unable to speak. You sighed.

“Would you-“ “I want to-“

“Sorry,” you and him said at the same time again, laughing it off quietly, your fingers running through your hair.

Your stomach clenched when you noticed his eyes following the movement almost wistfully.

“You go first,” he prompted you gently.

You didn’t argue – if you learned one thing tonight, it was that Steve was a gentleman and that was so rare these days that you wouldn’t want to discourage him from being that way. Even if you really wanted to know what he was about to say, as soon as possible.

“I… I just want to say thank you. For the… for the date. I had a good time, so I hope you had too, at least a little,” you offered lamely, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks.

Like a schoolgirl blushing in front of her professor. Jesus, why were you being like this again.

Steve didn’t seem to find you as awkward as you felt however, your name slipping from his lips, kind and soft.

“I had a very good time. You’re amazing.” Your lips parted at the blatant and genuine compliment. His eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, that came out so strong, I didn’t mean to put you in spot like that-“

Stronger than ‘maybe I just want to see you in my clothes?’ you asked yourself. No, you didn’t think so. It was just that the playfulness had left at least two blocks back.

This felt more serious. More intimate.

“Ditto,” you whispered, gracing him with a shy smile he instantly mirrored. “But hey, I already knew that, so…”

He chuckled, shaking his head lightly, his smile only growing. When he looked at you again, his eyes were the beautiful warm blue that made you weak in the knees.

“Would you like to do something like that again?” he queried lowly.

Yes. YES. YES PLEASE. Minus the awkwardness at the beginning and the one a moment ago, preferably.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” you agreed simply, taking note of how his face lit up even more.

How could a man be so indescribably hot and yet adorable enough to tug at your heartstrings?

“Good. I’m glad.”

He tugged at your hand unexpectedly, pulling you to your left, his other hand steadying you by gently grasping your forearm.

Before you could question his actions, a pair of men swaying in a drunken haze passed you, having no care in the world for whom they might crash into.

“Thanks,” blurted out lowly, sparing a second to shoot their backs a dirty glare.

But Steve’s hands were still on you, distracting, as you stood face to face, chest to chest, a little too close, a little too far. Your heart sped up in your ribcage, breathing picking up in anticipation. So close…

But all Steve did was to squeeze your forearm reassuringly, lifting your joined hands to his face.

Just like the day you agreed to get coffee with him, he kissed your knuckles, only this time it was much firmer. His smile was sweet and utterly irresistible as he kept looking at your face and you felt all the worries about the future melt away once again.

He was so precious and this felt so right and--- you didn’t want him to kiss your hand.

Well, you wanted it, but you wanted more too.

You had been aching to kiss that mouth since you had first set eyes on him, on that inhumanly gorgeous and hot creature. You were on a date, you both had a great time and clearly he was giving you the opportunity to decide how far you wanted to take this, because as much as every little touch of his made to crazy, the displays of affection were positively chaste.

And you wanted to take it very very far.

Your rational brain wouldn’t let you just hop into sac with him today, but fuck, you could do with a kiss. You wanted to feel that perfectly trimmed beard of his and you wanted to taste him.

Did he?

You stepped even closer as he let go of your hand, distracting you minutely; due to the sudden proximity, it landed on his chest and Jesus fucking Christ he was firm.

Your fingers clutched at the white fabric of his shirt as you observed his face, your gaze inevitably flickering to his lips. Glancing up once more to find him still watching you intently, pupils dilated, your breath caught in your throat, heat stirring in your belly.

Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped the fabric tighter and shortly pressed your lips to his.

It was a funny feeling – lips hot, soft and slightly chapped, a stark contrast to the beard, less rough than you expected, leaving a tingly sensation behind. It was different; exciting and addicting. Before he could react and before you could think twice, you kissed him again, this time lingering for a few seconds, your eyelids falling shut.

Your heart fluttered when you felt his lips reluctantly respond just as you withdrew, his grip on your arm tightening. You ran your tongue over your lips to savour the feeling, mouth instinctively curling up in a smile, gaze meeting his.

Little wrinkles appeared around his eyes as he smiled as well.

“You okay?”

You nodded, almost too eagerly, lowering back to your whole feet. Involuntarily, your gaze flickered to his mouth again, wanting more.

“Uhm… beard,” you piped up unhelpfully, pressing your lips together as soon as the admission left them.

Steve’s smile widened as he once again grasped your hand, leading it to cup his face – not before he dropped a kiss to your palm.

You almost let out a very embarrassing whine at the curious sensation, your mind, still enveloped in Steve’s warmth and cologne, wondering how the beard would feel elsewhere.

Your fingers unwittingly caressed the hair, thumb brushing his lips, unable to resist.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, lips parting, hot breath fanning over your skin as watched you.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out and that was it – you pressed against the soft swollen flesh at the pet name, causing a low grumble echo in Steve’s chest.

And then his hand slid to your waist, the other sinking into your hair, and he pulled up into a kiss that had nothing to do with how patient he had been before. He was still a gentleman, but it was a close call – he angled your head to his liking, his lips dancing with yours in a sensual dance with just a tease of tongue licking at the seam of your lips, causing you to sigh in bliss, granting him access.

He hummed appreciatively, the sound shaking your bones as he held you flat against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours – as if every nerve ending in your body wasn’t on fire already. He breathed you in, consumed you entirely – there were no other words for it.

There weren’t many words you could think of to begin with, too busy feeling his broad shoulders under your palm, fingers roaming to find the soft hair at his nape, revelling at the taste of him, just a smidge of tongue and you wanted more, your insides twisting in need--- and oh, your back was pressed against a wall now.

You let out a small startled sound which Steve instantly swallowed – but it was a good wake up call for you both. The motions of his lips slowed, softened, a gentle caress more than anything, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Breathless, you chased after his mouth when he retreated, earning one small peck and then another. He rested his forehead against yours, nose briefly skimming yours, causing you to smile and meet his gaze.

“Sorry,” he muttered and you genuinely wanted to slap his arm or something for apologizing for that. Because you knew what you’d be thinking about for the next few hours, days even, hell, probably weeks. “For springing out like that. I just… wanted to do that for a long time.”

The admission had your heart skip a beat and you couldn’t but lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth – and nope, you weren’t over how it felt, his beard against your lips. You wouldn’t be over it for a long time, you suspected.

“Me too.”

“So… we’re doing this again, right?“

You smirked up at him as he reluctantly released you. “You springing out like that or-“

“Don’t test me, babygirl,” he nearly growled, causing your eyes going wide as saucers, feeling as if you were sucker punched to your gut – and liked it.

Babygirl. Jesus, he was going to be the death of you.

“You can spring out like that again too,” you chimed, your voice sounding a bit strangled, because holy shit he just called you that. His gaze flickered all over your face, a shade darker than before. Your underwear was thoroughly ruined with that single look… and the earlier make-out session. “But if we’re talking second dates, I’d definitely do that too.”

He huffed and shook his head, a chuckle escaping him.

“You’re a minx…. I think I like it.”

You grinned at him and then sighed regretfully, reaching to slip off the jacket, which made him frown.

“You could give it back later.”

“Don’t tempt me… don’t want to rob you of it--- and there would be questions,” you explained, knowing that even walking around the campus like what would raise rumours of god knew what.

Like, maybe someone would think some gentleman like Professor Steve Rogers himself lent it to you or something, gee, where would that come from...

Steve nodded in understanding, accepting the jacket and shrugging it on.

“Plus, I’m thoroughly warmed up,” you added cheekily, causing him to chuckle incredulously again. With a sigh, he leaned in, cradling your jaw in one large hand and pressed a sweet lingering kiss to your forehead.

You could melt on spot.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Let me know when you get home safe?” he asked of you gently, tugging at your heartstrings some more, because of course he did.

“I will. You too?”

His smile was soft and sweet as he promised to do so, clearly touched by your care. Well, that made two of you.

“Goodnight, Steve. Thank you for tonight.”

“Thank you.”

You breathed in deeply, dropping a last kiss to his cheek and quickly spun on your heels to walk away – because if you wavered a second longer, you might have not left at all.

Sure, you looked back at him several times, finding him standing where you had left him, his eyes following your receding figure. But you kept walking.

And once you couldn’t see him anymore, you broke into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in your palms to muffle your delighted squeal.

You were just coming back to the dorms from the date with Steve Rogers.

And despite the hiccups, it was the best damn thing in the world, leaving you giddy and already craving another date and more. Your cheeks hurt from smiling by the time you made it to the dorms, your heart pounding excitedly the whole time.

As promised, you let Steve know you made there safe, earning another text with a heart. It only made you squeal again, fingers frantic as you replied – and with a kiss for goodnight so he knew you truly enjoyed your night, ending included.

What he didn’t know was that maybe, just maybe, the next evening you wrote a tiny story in which you elaborated at what could happen if he ever pushed you against a wall and kissed your breathless ever again.

And hopefully, he would.

Soon.

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Attached masterlist

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...how it happened? I was asked about the first date, very kindly and in a no pressure manner.

S: Hey, just out of curiosity, you don’t really have to answer… how do you imagine their first date went?

me: Hm, let me think, I guess, mm, it would be like this--- oh shit. Oh no. It’s gonna be a fic again, isn’t it? Maybe I could finally write a headcanon or a drabble--- sigh.

As if I could ever.

Thank you for reading :-*

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #professor steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america au #modern au #professor au #college au #steve rogers #captain america #student reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #word is that we might work it out #attached #attached: word is that we might work it out #anika ann

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emitheduck · 3 years

Text

Night-Time (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: I guess every Friday I’m gonna feel like posting a Bucky fic??? but man oh man, my poor baby boy

Also if anyone would enjoy to be on a taglist send me a message! ----

“You’re home late. What have you been up to?” (Y/n) asked the man as he walked into the apartment, promptly shutting the door behind him and double checking that he locked the door, a habit that he has picked up over the years. She was just happy he was only doing it twice instead of the old rule of checking five times.

“Sorry. I got caught up with some stuff.” He mumbled, tossing his keys on the kitchen table. “I should have texted you, but I’m still trying to figure out how to send full sentences on this dumb thing.” He chuckled under his breath, his phone also landing on the table when he tossed it down.

(Y/n) shrugged. “I’m not mad or anything. You just know that I worry about you.” She told him, her hands deep in the sink where she was furiously scrubbing a pan, trying to get the remnants of the dinner she had messed up. Cooking had been a chore recently, as Bucky was seemingly better at it than her. “Did anything happen when you went out?”

He shook his head, moving over to stand in back of her, his hands moving to rest on her waist while his head rested on her shoulder. “No, not tonight. Just therapy, then I ended up spending some time with Yori.” He told her as he pressed a soft kiss to her neck. “What about you?”

“I burnt rice in the pan while trying to make fried rice, and I’ve been scrubbing it for hours.” She sighed, leaning back into him. “I worry every time you’re not here, and I think it took out my stress on the pan, and we might need to go get a new one.” She said, looking down at the non-stick pan that was clearly scratched to hell. “Do you want to just head to bed?”

“Yeah. That sounds good.” He smiled, holding her hand as they walked to the bedroom. He peeled off the leather jacket that seemed to be glued to his skin, leaving the black undershirt on. “Are you sure you want me to sleep in the bed with you?” Bucky questioned, a usual thing he asked every night before he climbed into bed next to her.

It was a summer night when it happened. The first time, and only time. He had a nightmare and somehow, the Winter Soldier was activated in his sleep. (Y/n) was sleeping peacefully in bed next to him, while he was sitting upright with his back to her, staring forward at the wall.

“Bucky? Is everything okay?” (Y/n) asked as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes while she checked the time. “It’s almost two in the morning what’s the ma--” She never had time to finish the sentence as the metal hand collided with her throat; strangling every last breath out of her.

“Bucky! Please!” She yelled as tried her best to remove his hand from her throat. “Please! Let go!” She begged as he clawed at his hand, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked into his piercing blue eyes.

He only choked her for about a minute, but it had seemed like a lifetime until he had finally snapped out of it; realizing what he had done. He saw her neck, red where the grip of his hand had tried to kill her, along with the tears. “What the hell have I done?” He asked, practically leaping off the bed and slamming his back into the wall. He had hit the wall so hard, there was now a perfectly shaped arm-hole in the drywall.

(Y/n) sat up, having composed herself. “I’m okay.” She told him, her voice hoarse as she went to reach for him, causing him to try and back himself away further. “You could never hurt me.”

“I’m a monster.” He spat, going to the other side of the room where he kept his dresser, ripping out the drawers to take his clothes out; he was preparing to pack a bag and leave.

“No you’re not!” She yelled, quickly getting up and running to his side. “That was an accident and I’m not mad at you.” She cried, leaning up to rest her hand on his cheek, moving his head so he would look at her. “I love you so much, and you need to know that.”

“I almost killed you.” He mumbled, crumbling in her arms. He cried harder than she had ever seen, allowing her to try and soothe him while she rubbed his back and whispered sweet words to him.

He didn’t sleep in the bed for a month after that.

“Of course I want you to sleep next to me.” (Y/n) smiled as he finished getting changed into his pyjamas before he slid in bed next to her. She tried not to remember the night that he snapped, but knew that if it happened again that he would never hurt her.

Bucky then got comfortable next to her, moving his pillow to his favorite position so they could start his nighttime routine. Said routine consisted of her relaxing him until he fell asleep, until he woke himself up again after a few minutes of being asleep, then she did it one more time until he actually worked.

“Are you comfortable?” (Y/n) asked as she gently worked her fingers through his hair. He knew that if anyone knew his favorite way to fall asleep was safely in your arms would bring so much teasing; but you always cared the most and never judged. Of course if it was you who had trouble sleeping he would do this for you, but nowadays he needed it most.

“Yeah, thank you.” He mumbled as her hands gently rubbed over his face, allowing all the tension (and frowning) to vanish. “Why do you love me?”

She paused for a second before she continued to trace his face. “I love you because I love you. I love you because you’re sweet, funny, charming..” She comforted him. “I love you because I know that you’ll protect me. You make me feel better about myself all the time.” She said as she pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “You’re my soulmate.”

“You really believe in that stuff?” He whispered, his eyes starting to close as her ‘magic’ was working. He swore, she could put him to sleep in minutes flat.

“I always have believed in that kind of stuff. There are different kinds of soulmates.” She told him, smiling as he started to nod off. “Some soulmates are friends, like you and Steve. There are some that were made from the start like Wanda and Vision. Then there’s people like us who had to wait a long time to actually find each other.”

There was no denying they had met by pure fate. A man who was alive for 106 years to find love with someone who had lived a normal life, seemed out of the ordinary. But they also didn’t have some amazing love story; they started as acquaintances. Bucky used to give her a nod, then it turned to a ‘hello’, which slowly turned into full sentences. It was the little things that really made up for everything as a whole.

“You sleeping yet baby?” She mumbled as she peeked down at where he was in her arms. He was out like a light. “Hopefully tonight you don’t wake up.” She smiled, giving him a gentle kiss before relaxed and went to sleep next to him.

MASTERLIST

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #reader #reader insert #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky imagine #falcon and winter solider

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anystalker707 · 3 years

Text

Pleasantly Surprising

Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word count: ~ 4 000 Genre: Fluff / Enemies to lovers Summary: (Y/n) meets a nice group of guys in a concert. Warning: Blood, but no violence or wounds description.

Requested on Wattpad

a/n: This one if for you blood kink bastards </3

(Y/p) = Your pronouns

Feeling the cold night air filling my lungs with a faint smell of grass is much better than the smoky and sweaty, heavy air present among the public that gets worse near the mosh pit. I lean back against the brick wall, feeling the cold surface through the thick jeans of my jacket, digging into my shoulder blades as I try to control my breathing, quietly watching the band leaving the stage to give place to another.

My throat feels dry, aching the slightest after I swallow around the sharp and cold breaths, so I look around for a stand to buy at least a soda, ankling over to the nearest one. The line isn't actually that long – thank hell –, but that doesn't prevent a random bastard from trying to cut in line.

"Hey, what in the fuck you think you're doing?" I raise an eyebrow, pulling them back by their collar and they just look at me with this sulky face, bottom lip sticking out and lip ring glowing lightly under the reduced lighting. "No cutting in!"

"Says who?" they retort bitterly. "What you gonna do about it?"

"Aw, bold, aren't we?" I raise an eyebrow, glancing down and... the motherfucker is wearing school clothes, lacking the tie and shirt untucked. Private school. "What are you? Not like the other kids? The line isn't even that long, stupid."

"Fuck off," they sigh, shrugging out of my grip and harshly fixing their clothes.

"Frank– Fuck, Frank, the hell, can't we leave you alone for a single second?" A random voice suddenly interrupts our interaction before a tall person approaches, a motherly and worried air lacing their gaze. They look from me to Frank before exhaling, raising an eyebrow, at which Frank shrugs. "I'm sorry for whatever Frank did, he–"

"Fuck, no, Ray!" Frank cuts them off, "you're not playing the good guy here! I was just trying to–"

"Trying to cut in the line, yeah, very nice of you, isn't it?" I roll my eyes, twisting my mouth. At least he isn't lying, but is he stupid or something? Why would he try to convince us what he was trying to do was alright?

It looks like Frank is going to argue for a second, but ends up just groaning through gritted teeth and looking away with a sigh and tense shoulders.

Ray doesn't look any amused, only observing Frank like who looks at a puzzle after having tried to solve it for weeks without success. They shake their head, turning to me instead. "I'm Ray, he/him, nice to meet you. Sorry for Frank, what he did is... unfortunately usual."

I observe him looking at him from head to toes. School uniform just like Frank's, tucked shirt, loose tie. "Hi. I'm (y/n), (y/p). And don't worry, I would've done the same," I breathe, looking away from the two to hand the person behind the counter the money after pointing to the drink I want.

"What?" Frank gasps. "You would've done the same and still acted all like that towards me?"

I roll my eyes, sighing. "Me doing it doesn't mean I like being affected by it." I grab the change, shoving it in my pocket then step aside for Frank and Ray, cracking the can open.

"Y'know–" Frank crosses his arms over his chest, throwing his nose in the air, "–my momma says that you should treat the others as you want to be–"

"Aw, honey, so you'd like me cutting in the line right in front of you? Shamelessly?" I raise an eyebrow at him, unable to hold back a grin when his face gets bright red, hands balling into fists. Not gonna lie, it's kinda cute how he twists his mouth. Frank is about to curse when Ray is shoving a couple of cans into his hands – a sigh leaves his lips instead. "Two for each?" I question and sip on my drink.

Frank smirks, looking at me with humor. "Yeah, wanna watch me drink them at once?"

Ray rolls his eyes at Frank, shoving him out of the way after noticing there were people behind them. "We're actually with two other friends. Are you alone here? Do you wanna come along?" He smiles, ignoring Frank's complaints, so I opt for doing the same.

"I guess that'd be nice," I hum, shrugging. Otherwise, I'd be going home right now and Ray actually seems nice... I mean, Frank does too, but I'm not feeding his ego.

The other two stand against a brick wall when we find them, both quietly chatting to each other until seeing us approaching. The first one doesn't exactly react, more interested in the can Ray hands him, but the second, greasy punk, hums questioningly, straightening their posture as taking a good look at me almost like I did to Frank earlier. "And who are you?"

"(Y/n), (y/p)," I mutter, looking at them from over the rim of the can, taking a sip of my drink.

"Found lying in the trash when I approached," Frank adds, but doesn't seem so confident after I playfully shove him aside.

"Gerard, he/they," Gerard replies, eyes never averting away from mine. What is he, kind of a gang leader? Got a hell of an ego, though a bit differently from Frank – I'm noticing a pattern here, huh. "Mikey, he/him," he continues, nodding to the other guy.

I throw my empty can in a trashcan before leaning in towards Gerard. He tries to escape the touch, but he's against a wall, there's nowhere to go. How cute. "Belleville High," I say, finally able to make out what the small black letters embroidered on the chest area says, and step away, allowing Gerard to breathe. "Isn't it that private school? Catholic one? Wow, who'd know I'd find BH students here!"

"Stereotyping, are we?" Frank raises an eyebrow. It's impossible holding back a smile at him.

"No, never," I chuckle. "It's just a... rare occurrence. You came here right after school?"

"Not really." Ray shakes his head. "Just didn't have the opportunity to change. Good thing it's Friday, tho," he chuckles humorlessly and I nod in a silent agreement.

"And where do you study?" Frank takes a better look at my face. "If you study, that is."

I scoff, but don't reply just yet. Mikey is the most tidied up out of the four whereas Gerard has his tie loose around his neck, shirt untucked, blazer all wrinkled. "Of course I study, dumbass!" I glare. "But I'm in the public school near the park. But I've seen you before." I nod towards Gerard. "Just don't know where."

Gerard's eyes narrow. "Are you sure?"

"It's not always that I see a greasy vampire looking around, so yeah."

A silence hovers between us for a moment, both of us staring at each other until he feigns unamusement, looking away – I smile with a stupid pride swelling in my chest.

The night ends with us exchanging numbers after a solid hour of joking around and throwing sarcastic insults at each other. Teasing Gerard was particularly fun because he often ran away from the whole joking or at least tried to and even Mikey laughed when it failed, though sometimes succeeding when Frank finally managed to get the spotlight on himself. Ray is sweet, despite being the perfect example for 'looks like a cinnamon roll, but can actually kill you.'

Gerard got my attention, to be honest.

Saturday and Sunday go by quite slowly and thankfully texting the guys every five minutes doesn't make it as depressing as usual. Texting Gerard isn't the same as texting Frank – who replies a text to each word I send him –, however. Gerard often replies with a word or a vague comment and guess what? I'm only more interested.

No Gerard manages to slip between my thoughts during school, but it ends up happening as soon as I step past the gates. Belleville high, isn't it? Shitty elite, but they don't really seem to be like that... let's see if that wasn't just great acting. That's not even a mile away from here. I look down the street, the direction opposite to where I would usually go. It won't hurt to say hi, right? Not to mention I've got nothing to do for the rest of the day.

Belleville High's classes finish about ten minutes later compared to my school's, so I don't bother walking too fast, but not slow enough to let my palms get clammy or overthink anything. Amazing how I can feel like this about people I only met once. Okay, whatever, take a deep breath because I guess I know these curls.

"Look at who we have here!" I throw an arm around Frank's neck, interrupting whatever they were doing and attracting wide eyes towards me. Turns out I found them earlier than expected, hanging out in the park.

"Damn, are you everywhere?" Frank raises an eyebrow at me and presses his lips together, though never stepping away. Blood?

"Who knows?" I joke. "Also..." I trail off, only now taking a good look at them. "Man, what in the hell fucking happened to you guys? Seriously–" I yank a paper off Frank's back, sighing at the 'kick me' written across it and hand it to him, shaking my head. What fucking idiot did this? How the hell did they even get into a fight? It doesn't seem like they were fighting each other.

Frank groans poorly, wadding the paper into a ball and tossing it at the nearby trash can. He's got a few scratches above his eyebrows and blood trailing down the corner of his lips. Mikey and Gerard are probably in the best state out of the four – Gerard got blood trailing down his nose and same for Mikey, though on opposite sides and Mikey's cheek is smeared with blood. I can't say the same about Ray... I don't know how he's not even wincing with all that blood trailing down his face.

"Well," Mikey breathes, bringing a hand to the back of his head, "you can say that–"

"Why do you even want to know?" Gerard steps forward, hands clenched into fists by his sides. "You got nothing to do with it, okay?"

"Aw," I breathe a chuckle. So he wants things to happen like this? But does he have the nerve to keep it? I may not have known him for long, but the attitude is clearly foreign, unmatching. "And what, baby? You lost, didn't you? And you're a fucking sore loser!"

"I just don't see why you should know." He twists his mouth, looking at me uninterested, but it doesn't take long until he's looking at me with these eyes, irises barely seen, eyebrows scrunched close. "And don't talk to me like that! Maybe it would even be better if you fucked off and left us alone, don't you think?"

Man, he talks a lot. Too much. No wonder why he's in such a state. Maybe he'll shut up if I...

"Holy..." Frank trails off with a quiet chuckle and I'm certain Gerard would have glared at him if he wasn't processing what just happened.

Meanwhile, Mikey and Ray stare at me with wide eyes – as wide as Gerard's, but they're not as petrified as Gerard is, for sure, only with hesitant, unsure grins on their faces. I suppress the urge to laugh at Gerard, instead more focused on rubbing my tongue against the roof of my mouth, trying to get rid of the salty and metallic taste.

A quiet sound comes from Gerard as he finally moves, maybe a groan, not sounding really comfortable. He brings a hand up to his lips. The perfect trail of almost dry blood is now smudged, following the direction I licket it to, having the blood smeared across his chin and bottom lip. "Ugh, ugh, ugh," he groans, frantically cleaning his lips and chin with the back of his wrist, against the sleeve of his blazer. "What the fuck? You're gross!"

I roll my eyes with a sigh. "Man, I wonder why I thought being an asshole could be solved."

"Eh, trust me, he isn't normally like this," Ray says with a shrug, looking at Gerard like if he was a chained angry dog even after receiving a glare.

No one gives Gerard's tantrum much attention as we soon sit down on the grass and change the subject before we can notice. Surprisingly, Gerard sits down next to me. Even more surprisingly, he leans closer at some point and whispers, "well, look at who's the vampire now."

Saying Gerard's words got stuck in my head would be an understatement. Maybe it's a nightmare, maybe it's not, but it does get me randomly blushing or stupidly grinning during random times of the day. Nonetheless, school the following day does help a bit with cleaning my head a little.

After a few hours of staring at blackboards, the setting changes to staring at records hanging on the walls and it's honestly better. Incoherent, loud chatter being changed to music of my choice is a lot better, even if I need to talk to a customer now and then.

"This is the place I told you about. I've only been here once, but it seems good," a voice says from the outside, but I don't look up from my homework.

"Never been here," someone else says. A pause follows then their footsteps sound clearer and I sigh, shoving my things on the space under the counter.

"Hello, good afternoon," I say automatically, holding back a groan at how my eraser insists on falling and grabbing it fast. "How can I help you?" I finally look up just to freeze. And the four have the same reaction, to be honest. "I knew I had seen you before," I say to Gerard.

"What a small world!" Frank approaches, immediately narrowing his eyes and throwing his nose in the air as looking over to me. "So you're not a rebel who only wanders around and goes to free concerts during the night and stalks us?" He raises an eyebrow, looking around the place, inspecting the shelves full of records and CDs.

"So you only got one set of clothes?" I mock, staring at his school uniform.

Frank exhales, shoulders dropping. "We just got here from school." He motions vaguely to his messenger bag and I nod, humming, not like it matters a lot.

While we talk, Ray and Mikey wander around, talking quietly to each other and sometimes taking a record in hand, but Gerard... he stands there awkwardly, observing Frank and I with a lost gaze. What is he doing? Trying to act all cool like last time? Or doesn't know how to react?

"Hello," I greet, which sounds more like a question. Frank turns around to look at him, apparently understanding Gerard as much as I do.

Gerard presses his lips together and steps forward, also leaning against the counter. "You didn't mention you work here."

"Didn't have a reason to." I shrug.

The corner of his lips twitch and he's holding eye contact until sighing. "Okay, whatever. Got anything new on Misfits or Pumpkins? Also, Bauhaus." He glances at me, black strands falling over his eyes for a moment before he's pulling them away. Cute.

"Of course." I grin, moving to the cabinets behind the counter.

Frank eventually darts off as I show Gerard the records and cassettes like he wanted. I glance around to make sure Frank is paying attention to whatever Mikey is telling him and Ray before I turn to Gerard again, grinning lightly. "Y'know," I mutter, leaning forward with my elbows over the counter. "I've got passes for a bar concert tonight. Wanna come?"

"What do you mean by passes?" His eyes never avert from the records – he runs his fingers over them delicately, examining each of them closely.

"Each ticket was about ten dollars and they're sold out, but the store is sponsoring the event and I got free passes." I smirk, watching his eyebrows raise lightly. "I usually can get one person in with me. What do you say?"

He pauses. "Why me?"

"Because you're the one I know the least." And also the one I'm interested in. "Pick you up at seven, what do you say?"

He sighs. "I'll text you my address."

"Wow, you're..." Gerard stares at me with a blank face, standing there and letting all the cold air get in. He rushes into the car, closing the door carefully.

"I'm...?" I raise an eyebrow, sinking my foot down on the gas, pulling away from the sidewalk.

"I don't know." Silence. "Not what I expected."

"Glad to know." I grin. "You're also not what I expected. You're never what I expect, to be honest..." He wasn't all open in the beginning, but also wasn't the asshole he was in the park – in his defence, at least, he had just gotten out of a fight, nerves still on edge. At the store, however, he seemed more like himself. "Also, you're looking good."

Gerard's eyes are surrounded by eyeliner and a red eyeshadow – definitely nothing I would see him in, but also nothing I'm disappointed about –, bringing out his paleness. And for the first time, he isn't wearing that stupid school uniform and fancy shoes are replaced by platform boots. A leather jacket clutches his shoulders, decorated with a few studs and patches, and covering a nice Slipknot shirt. And there are his jeans, fucking tight and I swear I hadn't noticed this guy got such a nice ass and, fucking hell, it's difficult not staring at his thighs flat on the seat, with a chain falling over one of them.

"Thank you," he mutters quietly. Even in the reduced lighting, I can see his cheeks gaining a red tone before he looks away.

The place is crowded, but not overly – which is why the tickets were even sold, at first place – and it's fun seeing Gerard's chin drop when he looks at the sign of the place. To simplify, everyone is either always wanting to play in this bar or come watch someone play and the tickets are not only always sold in small quantities, but also expensive.

"Let's go," I chuckle after having spent a good moment observing Gerard.

We jog across the street, towards the entrance, just straight away skipping the whole line. The guy in charge of letting people in looks at us indifferently, in a silent question, muscles clear under the tight staff shirt. Even if there's no visible difference in his expression, he does relax a bit after I show him my pass and steps aside to let us in.

"Wow," Gerard mutters, almost inaudibly.

"You like it?" I ask as we walk through the people. No answer comes. He stayed back, of course; the boy is kinda shy and hesitant, after all. "C'mon!" I take a hold of his hand to pull him with me until we're in the bar area, which's much calmer. He stands there for a moment, looking around, until I point at one of the stools, sitting down on the one beside it.

Gerard shifts on his seat, hands resting on his lap and clenched into fists. He observes everything with wide eyes and I can't bring myself to avert my attention away from him. He's beautiful.

When the band starts playing, however, the atmosphere starts changing. It's a classic punk band – the kind of people you'd see around in skate lanes, spraying anarchist messages on a building's wall or behind a McDonald's counter – and the music is good, nonetheless, raw and emotional and demanding. Great to dance to.

Gerard is shy, as already stated – what makes me wonder how he even agreed on coming –, taking a good time to actually stand up from the stool and join me.

His hand is warm under mine, maybe not as warm as his cheeks seem to be. I had taken it in mine to pull him up from the stool, only, but he didn't let go and... oh well. Aren't you interesting, Gerard? I grin to myself and take his other hand to pull him to dance with me; that if you consider moving around to the rhythm of the song some kind of dance, but Gerard doesn't complain.

I'm not sure how much time goes by – I only question myself about that once the band is saying good night, breathing audibly as they get off the stage. The live music is replaced by a momentary incoherent chatter when loud music fills the place again, this time coming from the speakers. Gerard and I are out of breath when averting our attention from the stage to each other. My arms feel a bit sore after all of that, almost the opposite to my numb legs.

"Wanna grab a drink?" I nod towards the bar. "We can go to the alley to take a breath, then."

"Sounds good."

The non-alcoholic drinks are as cold as the night air, suddenly making it even more obvious how much we jumped around to the band's sound. We lean against the wall opposite to the side of the bar and I look at Gerard, watching his chest rise and fall fast, only coming to a longer pause when he brings the glass to his lips. He observes something above us, maybe the sky, but I don't care.

"Your nose is bleeding again." I suddenly note, seeing the dark red trail now almost reaching his upper lip. Not a surprise. He hurt his nose not much over a day ago and all the jumping must have opened the wound.

"Fuck." Gerard brings a hand to his nose and sighs when seeing the red stain on his fingers; I chuckle softly, halfheartedly. "What? You wanna lick it again?" he teases, raising an eyebrow at me. He apparently opts for not ruining the sleeve of his leather jacket, regarding it more than his school blazer.

I roll my eyes, smiling helplessly. "Well, if you'd like me to," I decide to tease back, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

"Ah, you wouldn't dare!" He chuckles, blood staining his lips according to how he talks.

"You think so, honey?" I raise an eyebrow. A few stutters come from him, but I just grab his glass and set it aside with mine, on the ground, before stepping towards him. "Tell me, why are you always so... bold around me? It's clear it's not part of you, as Ray even said." I suppress a humorous chuckle at how he frantically backs away against the wall, having nowhere to go. This brings me memories. "Maybe it has a specific reason?"

Gerard's eyes are wide, lips twitching, though no word ever comes through and his expression changes instantly once I get a hold of his hips and pin him to the wall. Feeling the heat coming from his cheeks is almost possible and all that resistance is gone, tendering into compliance and shyness.

"Look at you, Gerard," I mutter, rubbing circles into his hips as leaning in. "How surprising can you be?"

Having Gerard only letting out a quiet whine in response as his hands rest hesitantly over my shoulders make my heart flutter in my chest. I finally lean in, pressing my lips to Gerard's; he returns the kiss right away, lips sliding against mine easily.

And there it is; the rich metallic taste of Gerard's blood. I run my tongue over his bottom lip, snatching a hum from him, which turns into a whining-gasp once my teeth sink into it slightly.

His hands tighten around my shoulders, I grip harder onto his hips in consequence and he's sent relaxing back against the wall. He never had control over the kiss, but he's suddenly just giving up on the power at once with a quiet sound, slowly wrapping his arm around my neck to pull me closer and I gladly deepen the kiss.

"Wow, love," I breathe as soon as we part the kiss, lungs screaming for air. Gerard doesn't reply verbally, with his lips brushing lightly against mine and, by now, the blood is starting to get sticky, on its way to drying, also on my lips.

"I hope we can go out more often," he mutters shyly, not long before burying his face in the crook of my neck.

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vintage-writes · 3 years

Text

Yes I’m Mad, You Broke my Leg (Tomura Shigaraki x Reader)

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are currently undercover at U.A High School as Aizawa’s teaching assistant. One day on a field trip with Class 1A the League of Villains shows up and you now have to pretend that you’re definitely not in love with the leader. Of Course, Maybe you took it a tad too far. >-<

Warnings: None, Fluff. Slight bit of Angst but otherwise it’s just a pouty Shigaraki..

Word Count: 2 057

_________________________________________________

“Shigaraki is dead ahead moving into the back alley. Y/n, I need you to cut them off,” Aizawa’s voice echoes in your ear. “I’ll handle Kurogiri.”

Your feet continuously pound against the stone floor. You pass several run down buildings as you sprint down the deserted streets. The League of Villains recently attacked an old hospital currently experimenting on quirk enhancement. Seeing as the U.A. students were conveniently nearby, the Saturday school trip has turned into yet another effort to finally get a hold of Tomura Shigaraki, head of the League of Villains. Because God forbid, we actually do something normal for a change.

As Aizawa’s newest teaching assistant, that he reluctantly agreed to, you were now careening around corners on foot to catch up to him and cut him off from behind while Aizawa took chase from the front. So far, you just wish you had stayed home.

As you make your way around the final corner you run into the man himself. His cotton blue hair billowing behind him, his cloak flapping around in the wind. His trademark hands are currently in place blocking your view of his handsome face.

“Hello Villain”, you say.

He says nothing in response, simply tilting his head at you.

“I’ve been ordered to stop you here”, despite not being able to see his face you can tell by his body language, he isn’t pleased with the idea. “Why don’t we have some fun.”

“Let’s not”

You quickly slip the knife waiting in your belt into your right hand. Using your quirk you block off all the exits except for the one in the direction of Aizawa. You lunge forward and swipe your knife at him but he jumps backwards in time to avoid the edge. You swipe again, he dodges again, and like this you proceed to dance around another with jabs and slashes. Despite his size and lowered visibility, he is able to move rather smoothly.

Again, you decide to emit your quirk to land a blow on him which he narrowly avoids. However this time, as he dodges away he latches all five fingers onto a column supporting a nearby building. His quirk manifests at an alarming rate and eats away at the majority of the column before swiftly shifting over to eat away at the bricks and chipping paint of the building itself.

“Wait! NO!” You lunge forward intent on stopping him, knife discarded. The area didn't have any time to be evacuated, therefore, many people were still residing in the houses. If the building collapsed, it could definitely take a life or two.

Surprised by your sudden cry, he jumps away from the wall. Between the fingers, you can see his eyes have widened considerably. Before you had any time to say or do anything that could potentially explain the sudden outburst, you hear Aizawa’s voice shouting from behind.

“Y/n, get him now!”

Right. Remain focused.

You turn back to the task at hand only to freeze. Rushing towards you at an alarming rate was Shigaraki, hand outstretched, aimed at your face. On pure and absolute instinct, you drop down into a crouch before swinging your left leg around to connect with the corner of his knee. The blow lands with a sickening crunch and he immediately drops like a sack of potatoes as you roll out of the way. Adrenaline thrumming through your veins as you roll onto your feet again, turning to face Shigaraki. He’s lying on his side, hand fallen beside him and face in full view. Shigaraki’s face twists in pain as he lets out a strangled cry. However, this time, Kurogiri sits beside him and without wasting time, the two disappear.

“Dammit!” Aizawa says as he rocks up beside you. “Nice job though, that will definitely throw a wrench in their plans.”

You look up at Aizawa, confusion written all over your face.

He chuckles softly, “Nice job on breaking his leg, it’ll give the heroes a chance to breathe and track them down.” Aizawa begins to walk away and motions for you to follow so that you can meet up with the students. However you remain frozen in place as realisation begins to set in. Guilt immediately floods over you. You broke Shiggy’s leg. You gave him a clean break to HIS LEG. You wander after Aizawa in a daze. Meeting up with the students feels like a nightmare as each one compliments you on a job well done. It doesn’t feel like a good job. You plaster on a realistic smile as you pretend to revel in the glory. It’s an incredibly strange feeling to be praised for doing something you really didn’t want to do.

You’re never going to hear the end of this.

___________________

Three agonising days pass before you’re allowed off campus. You send in a request with Principle Nezu and he allows you to stay off campus on Friday night for your ‘Mom’s birthday’. Aizawa gives you papers to mark and sends you off with a pat on the head and a request to remain safe.

“I doubt Shigaraki’s allies will be too pleased with you, stay out of the spotlight.”

You gave him your thanks before leaving campus. Now you stand in front of a rundown warehouse, cake in hand, mentally preparing yourself for the shit you’re about to get into. God can only prepare you for the amount of petty, pouty rage, Shiggy’s about to send your way. You move forward and slowly open the door. It swings open on its hinges anyway, screaming into the open space. On the musty couch sits Dabi and Toga watching some god awful American drama.

Dabi looks up and with a teasing smile and proclaims, “Would you look at that. It’s the hero.”

“Shut up, Dabi”

“Oh, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n”, he tuts. “I feel like maybe you should be a little nicer, especially with the mood he’s in right now.”

“Don’t you think I know that”, you hiss back, holding up the cake tin.

“You think Cake is going to fix this?”

You pause before softly mumbling a tired ‘maybe’. Dabi bursts out laughing while you throw a venomous look at him.

“Oooohh, no need to be like that, or are you going to break my leg now too-- ow!” He shouts out, rubbing his head. Toga raises her arm again, TV remote in hand. A warning written all over her face.

“He’s in the back Y/n”, she says. She offers a smile, hand still raised. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

You thank her and send Dabi another mean look as you duck around the corner, striding towards the back room. As you reach the door you release a breath before entering.

Shigaraki sits on the couch, head in his hand as he watches the news. Surprisingly enough he’s staring intently at the sports channel. He’s avoiding you, you realise. You walk in on soft feet to stand in front of the couch. You place the cake on the coffee table. You decide to be straightforward and address the elephant in the room.

“Hey Baby, how’s the leg”, you say gently.

“Hi Darling,” he starts off, “It’s fine.”

Darling, he says. That one’s new.

“Are you mad?” you whisper. He finally meets your eyes. Crimson eyes burning with heat.

“Why would I be mad? It’s not like you broke my leg”, he says, gravelly.

“Baby, I promise you, it wasn’t on purpose. You caught me off guard. I barely even knew what I was doing, it was all on instinct”, You start off desperately. “I swear, it will never happen again. Aizawa just caught me off guard.”

His eyes fixate on you. He’s studying you thoroughly, doubt swirling in his eyes. His calm face remind you of someone in mourning. He leans forward, hands interlace, elbows resting on his knees. He doesn’t look at you again. Instead, he stares into the spot above the TV. Ideas turning behind red eyes. You feel your heart drop. Does he no longer trust you? Is this the end of the relationship? You’ve always known Shiggy’s trust was difficult to earn but you never thought it would be lost, especially not like this.

“Do you not trust me?” he asks at last.

You still. Do you not trust him? That’s ridiculous. Of course you trust him. You’d lay down your life for this man. For the opportunity for him to be happy, to burn the world down that betrayed him. To cripple a society that is unequal and cruel.

However, the scene plays back in your mind, the sight of his hand moving towards your face. His pinky tucked beneath it, only the thumb and forefinger truly posing as some form of a threat. Granted the only reason you had done what you did, had more to do with an object coming towards your face then a lack of trust in him.

You kneel down in front of him and rest on your knees. You remain on the side of his good leg, eye-level with him.

You reach forward and grasp his interlaced hands, unlocking them and entwining your own within his gloved fingers. Slowly you lift each hand up and place a kiss on the knuckles.

“I love you so much, of course I trust you.” You say gently. “This will never happen again.”

He smiles and then proceeds to lift up your hands in order to place kisses on your knuckles. Sincerity pooling in his eyes.

“I love you too. Please be safe.”

You send him a wink, “Always, and one really good thing came from this. The Pro’s trust me a whole lot more now.”

His smile drops suddenly and so does your heart. Maybe that came out wrong.

“I’m still in a lot of pain”, he says, looking away with a pout, “I’m still mad.”

You climb onto the couch next to him and place a kiss on his cheek before whispering, “I brought cake.” You beam up at him and he lets out the softest little chuckle.

“What kind of cake?”

You giggle.

“Chocolate, Delicious Chocolate.”

“Alright, I’ll eat the cake and then see if I’m still mad.”

You let out a laugh before kissing him full on the lips. Slightly chapped as his lips are, they’re still soft to the touch. He places a hand on your cheek and deepens the kiss, groaning. Warmth spreads over your body as you feel at peace. Wrapping his arms around you, you fall into him. The worrying for the past few days suddenly feels silly now as his gentle heat engulfs you.

You pull away breathless. Eyes like plated Mars, stare into your own. His beauty is stealing away all reasoning. Taking away the very air of your lungs.

“Cake?” you ask, a blush spread across your cheeks.

He nods back, “Cake.”

You reach over for the Cake tin and hand it to him before reaching down again for the spoons. As you turn back you see that he’s already opened the tin, a card sits in his hand as he stares down at both, a look of confusion written all over his face.

Oh Yeah, that’s what you forgot to do. He looks at the card, then at you before lifting the cake out of the tin and displaying it for you. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the card has been placed aside. Without looking at it you already know what it says.

A quick note to “Enjoy the precious time spent with family” signed by Principal Nezu.

“Babe”, he says “Why does this cake say ‘Happy Birthday Mrs (L/n)’”

You Throw him a sheepish smile.

“Happy Birthday, Mom”

_______________________________

A/N: There is nothing anyone can say to convince me Nezu wouldn’t do this.

364 notes · View notes

specialagentsergio · 3 years

Text

love, in ink

summary: Spencer wants to do something special to commemorate your relationship. (or, reader and spencer get a couples’ tattoo)

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: tattoos & tattooing, one very light sexual reference bc i'm a hoe

a/n: i recently got my first tattoo and i’ve been absolutely obsessed with tattoos ever since, so here you go. location and design was purposefully left vague so you can imagine anything you want, but i do write reader as already having at least two tattoos.

word count: 2.9k

masterlist

Spencer’s been thinking about it for years.

Two years, eight months, and twenty days to be exact.

Looking back, four months and ten days was pretty early to be thinking of something so permanent. But he couldn’t help it—contrary to how he thinks people perceive him, he’s a romantic. A bit of a hopeless one, really.

In any case, he had been right. Almost three years after your first date, you’re still together and absolutely in love. You live together, your lives are inseparably entwined. Every day has been an affirmation of the conclusion he came to three months into your relationship—you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

So really, four months and ten days wasn’t all that early to think of getting a tattoo with you.

He doesn’t have any, but you do, and he’s always loved them. He likes running his fingers over them, pressing kisses to them, rubbing moisturizer into them, and aiding you in making sure they’re all well covered in sunscreen before you’re going to be outside for a while.

He’d never really considered getting a tattoo until he saw how much you loved yours. It’s one of your favorite forms of self-expression, you’ve told him. You say the body art helps you feel more confident, comfortable, and at home in your body. Confidence in your body—that’s definitely something he could do with. But above everything, because it’s something you love, and Spencer loves you, it’s an experience he wants to share with you.

He brings up the idea over dinner forty-five days before your three-year anniversary. You’re reading while you eat—a common occurrence in your home for the both of you. He spins his fork in his hand a few times, then carefully sets it down and says your name.

You hold up a finger to ask him to wait; he watches your eyes move across the page as you finish the paragraph you’re on. Your attention is on him as soon as you’re finished. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He’s nervous—he knows you love him, but what if you say no anyways? What if you don’t want to get a tattoo with him? They are permanent, after all. “It’s… I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he admits.

Your eyes widen when you pick up on his anxiety. “Oh god, are you breaking up with me?”

He nearly chokes on the water he’d nervously sipped. “Wha—no, no!” he rushes to assure. “I—I love you. I don’t—I don’t ever want that.”

You take in a deep breath, carefully putting your book aside. “Alright. Okay.”

“Why would you think I was breaking up with you?” he asks, concerned about the conclusion you’d jumped to. “Are… are you not happy? Are things not good between us, for you? I thought—well, think, they are. Maybe I’m wrong? I could be. I’ve never been the best at reading social clues. Have I missed something? I’m sorry if I have. I--”

“Spence, Spencer.” You interrupt his nervous rambling and reach across the table, placing your hand on top of his. “Things are great between us for me. I love you, too. You were just so serious when you said you wanted to talk, it caught me off guard. It’s… not an uncommon way for a conversation about breaking up to start.”

“Oh. Sorry. I—I didn’t realize it could come off like that,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay. As long as we’re not breaking up, I’m happy.” You give his hand a squeeze before leaning back in your chair. “So, what is it you want to talk about?”

“Right.” He squares his shoulders and wipes his damp palms on his pants. “Our three year anniversary is in forty-five days, and I was thinking to celebrate, maybe we could… get a tattoo together?”

Immediately you break into the most beautiful smile—he’s happy to have an eidetic memory when it comes to moments like this. “Really?” you ask, body tense with excitement.

“Yeah. Really,” he confirms. “I, um… I guess you’re on board, then?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Spencer this is so exciting! Your first tattoo!”

He doesn’t bother to correct you about calling it his first. He’s got no plans to get more, so this could very well be his only tattoo. But he doesn’t want to dampen the moment, so instead he says, “I don’t really have any ideas for it. I just want to do it with you.”

“Wait here.” You disappear into the bedroom and return with a folded piece of notebook paper. It’s worn and wrinkled, the edges curled in. He unfolds it carefully to find the page covered in your handwriting. Some of the writing looks more rushed than other parts. Some sections are in blue ink, some are in black. It’s clear you’ve been compiling this list for quite a while.

He reads it at his normal, rapid pace, but it takes him a few moments to understand it. “Is this a list of…?”

You nod. “Tattoo ideas.” He looks up at you in… well, in awe, and you shrug. “I don’t want to just get your name on me, as nice as it is.”

“How long have you been working on this?”

“Um.” The answer seems to embarrass you a little. “A… a couple of years.”

“Years?” he repeats. “But you never said anything.”

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured into getting a tattoo,” you say. “Since they are, you know, permanent.”

“Relatively.” He looks back to the paper, running his fingertips over the indents left by the pressure of the pen. “They naturally fade with age, and can age prematurely through sun exposure.”

“Yeah. Listen, it’s okay if you don’t like any of my ideas.”

Spencer shakes his head—he likes a lot of them, but he already knows which one he wants—he knew as soon as he read it. He points. “This one.”

You bend down to see it and smile. “I was hoping you’d pick that one.”

“It’s perfect,” he says, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

---

You handle pretty much everything, contacting one of your favorite artists and pitching the idea. You’ve been tattooed by her before—specifically, she did his favorite of your tattoos. So he’s happy to have her do this one, too, putting down the deposit without hesitation. The artwork she sends back is everything he pictured and more. She’s taken the idea and brought it to life better than he could ever hope to. A few tweaks here and there, then the date is set. You’ll be getting tattooed the Friday before your anniversary.

Yours will be done first, near the end of his work day—when he arrives, you should be just about done. It’s not exactly how he imagined it happening, but you said it would be better this way. If he sits and watches you get the entire thing done, you think he’ll end up psyching himself out about his own tattoo.

“Is it really that bad?” he had asked.

You shrug. “Well, it’s pain, so it’s obviously not super fun, but it’s tolerable. You overreacted when I stubbed my toe last week, so I think it’s probably best if you’re not there watching me the entire time.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain,” he defends sheepishly.

“Exactly. I’ll keep you updated with texts and pictures, though, okay?”

He agrees, because honestly, you’re probably right.

Getting into bed with you the night before he asks, “What does it feel like? Besides it just hurting.”

“It’s different for everyone. It also depends on where you get it.” Spencer bumps your arm with his nose, silently requesting for you to adjust your position in a way that allows him to press as much of his body as he possibly can against yours. You place your hand in his hair once he’s settled, as usual, then continue. “It does kind of… vibrate. That’s something I didn’t expect going into my first tattoo.”

“Vibrate?” he repeats. “That’s… well, I guess it makes sense, considering how tattoo machines work.”

“Mm-hmm. But I wouldn’t worry about that part if I were you. Last time I checked, vibration isn’t a sensation that bothers you.” A very slight tug on his hair. “The opposite, actually.”

The squeak he makes is involuntary. “I, um… okay. I’ll—I’ll keep that in mind.”

He’s treated to a little laugh, but then your tone changes. “Seriously, though, Spencer. It’s okay if it ends up being too much, or just not for you, and you can’t finish the tattoo. Or if you just don’t want to finish it. I won’t be mad.”

He’s taken by surprise at first. It is a worry that he’s been harboring, that all the sensory input will be too much, but he’s never said anything about it, so how did you know?

Then again, it’s you. Of course you know. You always do.

“Okay,” he whispers. “Thank you.”

---

“Hey, how can I help you?”

Spencer looks up from his phone to the woman who’s just come into the front of the shop from the back. As promised, you’d kept him updated on your tattoo process with texts and pictures.

“Um, I—I have an appointment?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he’s really nervous—you were definitely right to have him come in later than you so he doesn’t have enough time to get really worked up.

“Who’s it with?”

“Megan.”

She glances over her shoulder. “Megan is currently with someone. I can go ask her how long the wait will be.”

“No, it’s okay, she’s working on my partner. We’re—we’re getting tattoos together,” he explains.

“Oh, fun! I’ll lead you back, then.”

He follows her to an open doorway. Your body is still and unmoving; Megan is hunched over your skin. You smile when you see him. “Hi, Spencer.”

“Hey. Um, how’s it going?”

You sigh. “Well, to be honest, I think this is going to be my last tattoo.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Megan says without looking up.

The little angry huff you make before replying with “I know” makes him smile, and his nerves settle a little. “Why do I do this to myself?”

Spencer can tell it’s just a rhetorical question, asked in good humor, but he can’t stop himself from answering it regardless.

“There are many different reasons that could drive someone to get a tattoo despite the pain, including the adrenaline and endorphins the body produces in response to pain, stress relief, and the need for creative expression.”

“Stress relief?” you repeat. “I haven’t heard that one before.”

“It is a strange concept at face value. An example, though, would be getting a tattoo to mark the end of a difficult period in your life. Some people get them to symbolize personal difficulties or trauma, or to memorialize people they’ve lost. It can be a form of catharsis that helps them process painful emotions, memories, or other stressful feelings.”

Your head tilts as you take the information in. “That’s interesting.”

“Alright.” Megan leans back. “It’s done. Go take a look.”

Spencer follows you to the full length mirror. “Oh, wow,” you breathe out as soon as you see it. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Spencer.” You touch his arm. “What do you think?”

It takes him a few moments to answer because he’s been overcome with emotion. He’s overwhelmed with just how much you love and care for him to have permanently embedded a reminder of him into your skin. “It’s perfect,” he whispers.

“It is,” you agree.

You return to Megan and she takes a few photos of the tattoo, promising to text them to you, then gets started on the aftercare. “You know the drill,” she says, but still gives you the instructions for what to do as the artwork heals. He only barely registers what she’s saying—his eyes are glued to the tattoo.

“Okay, let me get everything switched out and cleaned up, and then we can start on yours, Spencer.”

“Hmm?” He tears his gaze away to find Megan looking at him. “Oh, right. Okay.” He sits off to the side with you while she disposes of supplies, replaces them with new, sterile ones, and wipes everything down.

She works fast—before he knows it, Megan has shaved and cleaned his skin, and has him in front of the mirror as she places the stencil. It takes a few tries to get it just right. He apologizes when she has to print the stencil again, but she waves him off. “It’s your tattoo and it’s going to be on you forever. I want you to be one-hundred percent happy with the placement.”

His nerves spike back up when he’s settled down and all ready to be tattooed. You sit in a chair on the opposite side of him than Megan, and when you offer your hand, he grabs it immediately.

“Breathe, baby,” you say gently. “Try not to tense up too much.”

He does try, but still jumps a little when Megan’s gloved hand touches him. “Sorry,” he says breathlessly. “I’m a little nervous.”

“Oh, no, you’re fine,” she reassures. “I won’t start until you’re ready.”

“I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay. I’ll start with just one small line.”

It’s a strange sensation, unlike anything he’s felt before, but it’s… not horrible. He’s been scratched by cats in the past, and it feels kind of like that, but hot. There’s the vibrating you had mentioned, too.

“How was that?” Megan asks.

“Not so bad,” he answers honestly.

“That’s great. I’ll keep going then. Settle in. Just let me know if you start feeling funny or if you need a break, alright?” At his nod, she goes to work, and he switches his attention to you. He knows he shouldn’t, that it’ll probably come back to bite him in the ass, but he can’t stop himself from teasing you.

“I don’t know why you were complaining earlier,” he says in his best innocent voice, with his best innocent expression. “It’s not that bad.”

The way your mouth drops open just a little bit is adorable, and so is the noise of disbelief that follows. “Yeah, okay. Tell me that again at the end.”

“I will,” he replies, mentally adding probably not to the sentence.

You roll your eyes and let go of his hand to sort through your things. You give him a lollipop when you find it.

“What’s this for?” Suckers aren’t really his favorite candy.

“Your adrenaline is probably going to drop now that the tattoo has started and I don’t want you to pass out,” you say. “The sugar will help prevent you from getting lightheaded.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

The tattoo goes well overall, he thinks. It’s definitely painful, but like you said, it’s tolerable. He’s certainly felt worse. Near the end, though, he really starts hurting, and a grimace slips across his face.

“She’s almost done,” you reassure. He hasn’t been looking at it, but you have. “Also, what was that you saying earlier?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “It’s not even the needle, you know. It’s the paper towels.”

“A lot of people say that,” Megan says. “Just a few more minutes left.”

He spends those last few minutes questioning every decision he’s made in his life that has led him to this moment, and swearing to himself that he’s never going to do this again. But then it’s over and he’s looking at in the mirror, and it’s suddenly like the past five minutes never happened.

Spencer loves it. He absolutely adores it. Not just the art itself, but how it looks on his body and how it’s making him feel.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask, making him jump a little. He’d been so fixated on the tattoo that he didn’t notice you joining him.

He ponders for a moment to find the right words. “I’m beginning to understand why you like doing this so much.”

You grin. “It’s great, huh?”

“It is, yeah. I kind of want to touch it; is that weird?”

“No, but don’t,” you reply. “It’s an open wound.”

“I know.” He looks back at Megan. “This is perfect. Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she says. “Thank you for trusting me with your first tattoo.”

When he drags himself away from the mirror, she goes over aftercare with him, and he listens more intently this time. A few things are going to be a little inconvenient, he thinks, but it’s more than worth the trade off.

You take his hand as you leave the shop. “I’m so happy that I got to do that with you.”

He squeezes your hand back. “Me too.”

You reach the car, but before he can move towards the passenger side, you pull him in close. “I love you.”

His free hand comes up to cradle your cheek. “I love you, too.”

You kiss him, soft and sweet. “Happy three years,” you say when you pull back.

“Here’s to three more?” he offers, a little nervous, but mostly hopeful.

Your smile leaves no room for doubt. “I like the sound of that.”

---------------

hit up my inbox if you wanna talk tattoos bc i fucking love them. what do you see spencer getting with his partner?

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor , @spencerreid9

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #fluff #my fic #tattoos rlly are a rabbit hole for some of us like i already have an appointment for my second one lol

142 notes · View notes

footballfanfictions · 3 years

Text

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Five

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Warnings: Smut (18+)

—————————————————————————————

Mason

I had watched Katie and Ben leave hand in hand, absolutely seething. I had this awful sickening feeling in my stomach that I couldn’t quite understand. All i knew for sure was that I didn’t trust Ben. I had known him before he arrived at Chelsea and we had played together for England./ He had always seem like quite a sound lad, but there was just something about him that I didn’t like.

Christina had whined at me all night about dancing with her and when I refused had gone off in a huff to dance with a group of other guys on the dancefloor, grinding against them provocatively, as if that would ever make me mad. I had been going off her for a long time now, only clinging on to the relationship because I was scared of being on my own.

My mind kept going back to Katie kissing Ben on the dancefloor. How he had held onto her, how she had run her hand through his hair. If I was honest with myself I knew why I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it because I wished that it were my hands on her.

I had quietly admired her from afar for the entire previous season since returning from my loan at Derby County. In that entire time she had barely even said a word to me and that only made the longing feeling worse if anything. I’ve always enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

I felt bad for silently celebrating the end of her long term relationship, which I found out about from one of the physios one day when casually asking why Katie looked so sad that day. She had always been quite a serious person fully invested in her job, but that day changed her and she had gone cold.

Now I was seeing her fire returning, and she was burning for Ben.

I thought all of these thoughts while Christina was on top of me, half heartedly grinding against me. She hated going on top, hated having sex with me in general really these days. I usually did all the work, taking all of my frustration out on her. But tonight she was drunk enough to do all the work, while I lay back against the pillows.

The only reason I was able to get hard and stay hard was because I was thinking about Katie.

Christina started to move her hips a little faster against me then and I momentarily snapped out of my day dream, grabbing her hips firmly. Then I put the situation out of my head and concentrated on the fantasy of Katie on top of me.

A few moments later I felt her tighten around me and started to thrust up to meet her hips,cursing quietly under my breath “f-fuck.. Katie…”

It took a second for me to realise what I had said, my eyes snapping open to meet Christina’s but she was already rolling off of me and getting out of the bed to shower like she did after every time we had sex, wanting to wash the memory of me off of her. She was entirely oblivious.

_______________________________________________________________

Katie

I woke up momentarily confused, the curtains still wide open from the day before allowed the sun to come streaming in and blinded me for a second.

My mouth felt uncomfortably dry and my head was slightly pounding.

Rolling over I knocked into the side of Ben’s sleeping body and the memory of the previous night came back to me.

I had slept with Ben, and we had barely even had a date. I scolded myself silently, wondering how I could be stupid enough to let a footballer sleep with me on the first night. I was probably one in a hundred girls that he had slept with early on and then never talked to again.

He stirred and slung his arm across my stomach, pulling me in close against his chest, he nuzzled his head against my neck. I tried really hard not to smile at the fact that he was laying here cuddling me rather than getting up and running away straight away.

“Stop fretting.” he mumbled quietly. His voice all low, sleepy and raspy sounding even more attractive than usual. “I’m not going anywhere…” he continued, now in a whisper, his lips moving to kiss my collarbone while his hand swept my hair out of the way.

I breathed out a deep sigh of relief and relaxed into his arms.

“Didn’t scare you away then?” I joked.

Disregarding the sex, this was the most intimate I had been with anyone since Rory. I tried not to show Ben how insecure I felt about being completely bare before him.

“No way” he smirked.

We were both silent for a minute, Ben was still holding me against him, his fingertips now trailing down my back. I was struggling to figure out what I should say to him now. Should I offer him some breakfast? Ask him to hang out with me today? It had been so long since I had brought someone home with me outside of a relationship that I had no idea what the post sex etiquette was.

“What time is it?” Ben asked, lifting his head to look at the display on my alarm clock sat on the bedside table.

I looked at it too, having to squint to read the display clearly due to the sunshine. “8.30”

He jolted slightly against me and then sat up. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry but there is somewhere that I need to be.” he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek but then offered no further explanation as he silently dressed.

I waited until his back was turned while he was putting his shoes and socks back on before I slipped out of the bed covers myself and threw a pair of shorts and a t shirt on to look half way to presentable to see him out.

Once we were both dressed he grabbed my hand and pulled me against him to give me a brief kiss.

“See you later then.” I said casually.

He smiled at me and squeezed my hand, letting me lead him to the front door.

“I’ll text you.” he said.

_________________________________________________________

Monday morning had rolled around and admittedly I had been disappointed not to hear from Ben, but presumed that he was probably just busy.

As usual I was busy following the weekend. Chelsea had played yesterday lunchtime and I had a folder full of matchday pictures to go through and edit to occupy my time.

By lunchtime I had barely made a dent in my work and decided that I would just eat lunch sat at my desk to try to get through a little bit more of it but Bri had other ideas, coming bounding into my office like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh with a massive grin on her face. She was so happy that it lifted my sour mood almost instantly.

“Katie! So sorry that I didn’t text you back on Friday. I knew you were out with the boys and didn’t want to disturb you, and well… me and Billy went on our date and ended up spending the whole weekend together!” she was still bouncing as she sat down on the spare office chair which nearly rolled away from the desk from the force.

“Woah slow down, all weekend?” I asked her, puzzled as I looked down at the team sheet on the desk in front of me. “Wasn’t he in the squad yesterday?”

“Oh yeah but he got me a ticket and I sat just behind the bench so that we could talk to each other. He didn’t get to play unfortunately but it was still nice to be there to support him.” she said, beaming before continuing “then he took me to the megastore and bought me a shirt with his name on the back for me to wear next time. Isn’t that just the cutest thing?”

“The cutest…” I said quietly, trying my absolute best not to sound bitter or jealous seeing as Ben had run off suddenly on Saturday morning and couldn’t even be bothered to send me a text, compared to Billy who couldn’t get enough of being with Bri. I tried to tell myself that Billy had been into her for years so was of course going to be putting in a lot of effort, where Ben and I had only just met. It would have been nice to have felt a bit more wanted though.

“Sooo… Billy told me that Ben was asking you out. Did you go?” she looked at me intently while asking the question and I knew then that she could tell that there was something wrong.

I told her everything, including what I knew about Ben’s ex and Jorginho and going to the nightclub with the boys, kissing Ben, Mason and his horrible girlfriend being weird, and then about sleeping with Ben and what had happened after.

“Oh…” she mumbled. “I thought that he was really into you. Billy said he’#s always talking about you and looking over at your office window when they’re training.”

I shook my head, trying not to feel pessimistic about the situation. It had only been two days and he could have genuinely been busy.

“I’m sure he will text or call, or even pop in here to see you.” she leant over the desk then and gave me a hug in the best way that she could with a desk in the way.

“Bri, you really like Billy now right? Not just to make you-know-who jealous?” I asked.

She laughed “Why would I want to make Voldermort jealous?”

I rolled my eyes at her and grinned “You know exactly who I meant.”

“He’s already forgotten.” she shrugged.

“Listen, I don’t think I can face going down for lunch could you bring me back a sandwich or something? I don’t really fancy being stared at. He has probably already told all of them how easy I was.”

Reluctantly she agrede to go without me but not without scolding me for thinking the way that I had, telling me that Ben wasn’t like that.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mason

“So, what happened with you and that girl?” Kai was asking Ben the question as we sat in a circle doing some stretches. We were right outside of Katie’s window and I had been trying really hard not to think about her with some success before Kai had brought her up.

Ben stayed quiet for a minute as the group pushed him for an answer. Tammy finally bluntly asking if Ben had slept with her.

I looked for any sign of embarrassment on his face but there was none as he smirked “It was even her idea, she took me back to her place and then she was all over me.”

I grit my teeth together, biting me tongue so as not to say anything I might later regret or that might make playing with him awkward. I didn’t like the way that he was talking about her. He shouldn’t be showing off for the rest of the lads like that, not if he really liked her. He could have just said that he had a good night and wouldn’t kiss and tell.

My only solace was that he wasn’t going into intimate detail. He wouldn’t ruin my fantasies about her that way.

“How did you leave things? You leaving the door open to hit that again?” Tammy was asking.

I looked up at her window then and could see her there, stood at the coffee machine. She looked tired and stressed, more so than she usually did on a Monday morning and my dislike of Ben grew that little bit stronger.

“The door is ajar. Just letting her cool off a bit before I go back to her. Don’t need her getting all clingy on me.”

I was only half listening to Ben, finding that not looking at him made it easier to pretend that I was fine and egging him on like all of the others.

Our coach Frank blew his whistle then and told us all to head inside for lunch and I hung back behind the rest of them as they all walked towards the doors to inside the complex.

I was last in line for food as a consequence of hanging back behind the others and realised that Katie’s friend was just ahead of me with Billy but no Katie.

“I need to take this back to Kate but I don’t want to miss out on time with you.” I heard her cooing to Billy who had the biggest grin on his face. It was nice to see him finally happy but a bit too sweet for me.

Interrupting them I offered to take the sandwich to Katie, saying that the table I was going to sit on was full anyway and I was planning on just grabbing one myself and heading for some physio.

Katie’s friend was slightly hesitant at first but her desire to be with Billy overruled that in the end and she handed the sandwich over to me.

I stood at her office door nervously for a minute before I even knocked.

She opened the door expecting her friend and was surprised to see me there.

“I uh- brought your sandwich…” I mumbled, passing it to her.

“Are you ok Mase? It’s not like you to be so quiet.”

I full on blushed at her calling me Mase and felt like a right idiot for doing so. It was a nickname that people called me affectionately and she had never been affectionate towards me.

“It’s just…” I started to speak but had no idea what excuse I was going to give. I couldn’t exactly tell her that I was jealous of Ben.

“Is it your girlfriend? She was um, nice?” she giggled, and I couldn’t think if I had ever heard her laugh before. It was infectious.

“If I’m honest I haven’t been invested in that relationship for a long time but I can’t bring myself to end it. I’ve always been in relationships. I’m not...I’m not sure I know how to be on my own you know?”

She gestured for me to sit down on one of the chairs and she perched on the end of her desk, taking a bite of her sandwich while she thought about what I said.

“I can understand that. I was in a long term relationship that ended last year and I thought we were going to be together forever so when it ended I had no idea how to be on my own again. I’m still not sure that I have it figured out now if I’m honest.” she shrugged. She was trying to seem casual about it but I saw straight through her. She was still hurting from that break up.

“You’re not on your own anymore though, you have Ben.” I said quietly. Although I didn’t really want to think about them together I wanted to see how she reacted to me asking about it. If her face lit up with happiness at just the mention of his name, I would know that any chance of me changing her mind about him and about me was absolutely dead.

She looked down at her feet and didn’t say anything.

“He’s not the best at communicating. Don’t give up on him yet.” Thinking back to what she had said to me not long ago about how privileged and big headed I had become, I decided in a split second that maybe I wouldn’t be good for her even if we could somehow date. Would I continue to get too big for my boots and end up pushing her away? By that time I would have burnt a lot of bridges and ruined a lot of professional and personal relationships and it didn’t feel worth the risk.

“You’ve changed your tune.” she said, obviously referring to me telling her that he wasn’t good for her.

I shrugged, standing up to leave. “He’s growing on me I guess.”

“Thanks for chatting Mase. Maybe you’re growing on me.” she smiled.

I had turned to the door, so she couldn’t tell how hard I was smiling at what she had said.

“See you later Katie.” I replied, trying to sound as casual as possible as my stomach did somersaults.

#ben chilwell #mason mount #football fanfiction #football imagines #football smut #football story

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

I’m From Brooklyn, Too ~ 144

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

I’M FROM BROOKLYN, TOO MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,610ish

Summary: The Team comes back from the time heist.

Notes: You must read Out Of Time in order to understand this. The chapter numbers continue from Out Of Time.

Everyone landed in their same spots on the platform, all the the quantum suits deactivating.

“Did we get them all?” Bruce asked.

“You telling me this’ll actually work?” Rhodey questioned.

There was a sudden clatter, Y/N falling to her knees when the Soul Stone and the arc reactor falling to the ground. Everyone stared with wide eyes.

“Y/N, where’s Tony?” Bruce asked.

Clutching her hands to her chest, Y/N bowed her head and continued crying. That gave them all the answer they needed to know. Bruce fell to his knees, hitting the floor in grief. Steve walked over to his sister.

“Y/N,” he called, with a deep sadness, as he reached out for her.

“No!” She pulled away. “Don’t touch me!”

A blast of energy that came from Y/N, causing everyone to stumble back. Everyone eyed each other, realizing that her powers were back. She stood up, shakily, on her own.

“Trust me now, Steve?” Y/N continued, harshly. “Do you trust me now to do what it takes to get the Stone? Cause I did! And that cost me my husbands life! The father of my child’s life!”

“I didn’t—“

“How the hell I am suppose to tell Morgan that her father is dead?! That I watched him willingly fall to his death and there was nothing I could do about it?!”

Y/N was breathing heavily as tears ran down her face. No one knew what to say or do. So they all stared, with heart broken eyes, trying to keep their own tears at bay.

“He’s gone,” Y/N whispered, voice breaking. “He’s gone.”

“No,” Thor stated. “No. We have the Stones, right? As long as we have the Stones, we can bring him back, isn’t that right?” He looked around at the group of people, who had clearing begun grieving. “So stop this shit. We’re the Avengers, get it together.”

“We can’t get him back.”

“What?”

“It’s can’t be undone, Thor.”

Thor dryly laughed. “I’m sorry. No offense, but, even with the power of the Stones, you are a very earthly being. Okay? We’re talking about space magic. And can’t seems very definitive don’t you think?”

Y/N used the Power Stone to blast Thor back into the wall, leaving a dent. She used her power to keep him there.

“Y/N!” A few of them exclaimed.

“As you said, I have the power of the Stones,” Y/N ignored everyone else. “We can’t get Tony back. I know that because I can feel the Stones. His death is permanent.” She dropped Thor, Rocket and Scott rushing to help him up. “Do not question me on this. I will not be questioned about my knowledge anymore. Get the Stones to the lab, I’ll be there to put them in the gauntlet soon.”

Y/N disappeared through a portal into her bedroom. The Team stood there, looking at the spot she had once been.

“She’ll never be the same again,” Natasha said, shaking her head. “Even if we get everyone back, Y/N will never be the same.”

“We have to make Tony’s sacrifice worth it,” Bruce added. “We have to.”

“We will,” Steve stated.

~~~

Steve sighed before he hesitantly knocked on Y/N’s bedroom door. He felt conflicted about going to comfort his sister. Especially since he was probably the last person she wanted to see. If he really listened, Steve could hear her cries, breaking his heart further.

“Y/N? Can I come in?” Steve wondered after the knock.

“Leave me alone, Steve,” Y/N responded.

“I just want to help.”

“Help?” She laughed, dryly, opening the door. Her eyes were red and the arc reactor was on her chest. “You can’t help me. Not anymore. Are the others ready in the lab?”

“Uh, yeah, Rocket and Bruce have everything set up.”

“Good.” She walked passed Steve.

“Y/N, wait. We need to talk about this.”

“No. We don’t. We need to get everyone back.”

“It can wait a few more minutes.”

“Oh? It can?” She turned to face Steve. “Tony didn’t want to do this at first. He was happy, content. We both were.”

“But you love Bucky. And I love—“ Y/N paused, inhaling sharply. “…loved… I loved Tony, too. Even if it wasn’t the same… and now, I get to go home and tell my daughter that her father will never tuck her in again. Never play outside with her or have a movie night…”

“I’m so sorry. If you want, I could come with you.”

“I don’t.” Steve was slightly taken back, but not completely surprised. “I don’t need your help. What I need you to do is stop bugging me about this so that we can bring everyone back. Got it?”

Steve sighed. “I got it.”

~~~

The Team watched intently, all geared up, as Y/N handled each Stone. They were amazed that she was able to handle each one without any repercussions. She carefully took each one and placed it into the gauntlet Tony had previously made. Picking it up, Y/N took it out of the glass room she was in and brought it out to where the others were.

“Alright. The glove’s ready,” Rocket said. “Question is, who’s gonna snap their freaking fingers?”

“Is that even a question?” Y/N retorted. “Me. I’m the one who can control them. And I know that they would do anything to protect me.”

“How do you know that for sure?” Steve questioned.

“Because I know that my job isn’t done yet.”

“We can’t take that risk,” Rhodey cut in. “Especially after…. After Tony. Morgan needs her mother.”

“And she’ll still have one. You all have to trust me.”

“We do,” Natasha said. “We just want to be sure that you won’t get seriously hurt. It’s not a risk we want to take.”

“It should be me,” Bruce said. “The Stones almost killed Thanos when he used them. None of you could survive. Even you Y/N.”

“How do we know you will?” Steve asked.

“We don’t. But the radiation’s mostly gamma. It’s like… I was made for this.” Bruce looked at Y/N. “Let me do this. You’ve sacrificed enough.”

“Let him,” the Stones whispered to her. “Your time will come.”

“Fine,” Y/N gave in, handing Bruce the gauntlet.

Bruce took a deep breath, studying the Stones. “Let’s do it.”

“You remember—everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago and just brining them back to now, today. Don’t change anything from the last five years.”

“Got it.”

Everyone circled around Bruce, suited up. Y/N tapped the arc reactor resting on her chest, Tony’s suit forming around her. She formed a SHIELD to protect her and Clint.

“FRIDAY, activate Barn Door Protocol,” Y/N ordered.

“Yes, Ma’am,” FRIDAY responded. The whole Avengers facility went on lockdown.

“Everybody comes home,” Bruce whispered.

Bruce put on the gauntlet, which fit to his hand thanks to the nanobots. The power surged, overwhelming him. He fell to his knees, grunting in pain.

“Take it off!” Thor panicked. “Take it off!”

“No, wait!” Steve said, holding a hand out. “Bruce, are you okay?”

“Talk to me, Banner,” Rhodey urged.

“I’m okay,” Bruce replied. “I’m okay.”

Thor gave a double thumbs up, trying to encourage his friend. Bruce screamed, fighting through the intense pain coursing through his body. He lifting up his hand and managed to snap his fingers. He faints and the gauntlet slides off his arm. Clint quickly kicked it away.

“Bruce!” Steve exclaimed.

“Don’t move him,” Y/N ordered, coming to her friends side. Using the suit, she sprayed his arm with nanobots. Her head was buzzing, but she chose to ignore it to help her friend.

Bruce reached up and gripped Steve’s arm. “Did it work?” He asked.

“Worth a shot,” he responded.

Thor was on his other side, trying to comfort Bruce. “It’s over. It’s okay.”

Letting out a breath, Y/N leaned back. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the buzzing. FRIDAY had released the Barn Door Protocol, allowing Scott to go towards the outside windows and see the plants and birds. Clint’s phone began ringing, he was shaking slightly as he reached to grab it.

“Hon—honey,” Clint answered his wife, struggling to peak from sheer happiness. “Honey.”

“Guys!” Scott shouted. “I think it worked!”

Before anyone could really celebrate, missiles hit the compound. Effectively destroying it and throwing the teammates in every direction. The suit took over protecting Y/N, making sure her helmet was on and everything. But couldn’t stop her from getting knocked out and the pile of debris that formed on top of her.

~~~

Looking around, Y/N noticed she was in the Mirror Dimension. Which was odd. What was she doing here?

“It’s time.”

Y/N spun around to see Dr. Strange hovering not too far away from her.

“It’s time,” he repeated.

“I know,” she responded.

“Are you ready to do what needs to be done?”

“I am.”

“Good.”

“So, is everyone back?”

“Yes. After this, I am going to bring them to you. To the fight.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry about Stark.”

“I’m slightly hurt that you knew that was going to happen.”

“I couldn’t tell anyone.”

Y/N scoffed. “Yeah. You and your Sorcerer Supreme type. You know things, yet don’t tell anyone everything. It’s infuriating.”

“I am sorry… He seemed like a good father to your daughter.”

“He was the best. And now I will fight so that his sacrifice will not be in vain and for my daughter.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can. Good luck, Y/N.”

next chapter >

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Text

Out from Darkness - Chapter Eleven.

Big thanks to my readers for your support, especially the four or so of you who are reading for the story and not just the smut! :D

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Word Count - 2,883

Cast of characters post here

Tag list - In the comments

Warnings - Smut! Bit of fluff too. Fluffy Friday, y’all!

“I can’t believe how stunning these are! Thank you so much, my sister is going to love them! You really saved me as I had no idea what to get her for her birthday. Here, eighty dollars as agreed.”

Taking her cash with a smile, Ava pocketed the notes after handing over the earrings, necklace and bracelet set she’d made. After seeing Ava’s leaf necklace, Brooke had fallen in love with it, knowing her twin sister would adore such since she was a big fan of nature, the autumnal theme of the set extra special too because of their November birthday.

With her newly earned money, which she got a kick out of since it felt nice to earn something on her own, and because she wasn’t supposed to have it, Ava headed straight in the direction of the mall after college, to a certain store in particular.

The beautiful red lace underwear set that had horrified her mother so much was still there, also in her size. Because the cut of the cup was slightly different to usual (a balconette push up, something she’d never been allowed to have) she went to try the bra on, giggling to herself as seeing her boobs look so incredible.

“Damn, girl. You’re going to get eaten alive.” She whispered, removing it quickly and dressing again, grinning widely. It would be one of two surprises for her vampire lover, the second being that Megan had offered to be her alibi so Ava could claim to be staying at hers, meaning in truth, she could spend all night with Chris and then hot foot it over to her bestie’s house the next morning with a little takeout breakfast as a thank you, which she now had the money to buy, since her allowance for that week had all been previously allocated.

Exiting the store, she visited the one next to it to buy some fancy chocolate, the high of being able to do what she pleased with her own money rather than that which was provided to her giving a little buzz. She could get used to this. Sadly, though, no matter how clandestinely she ran her little jewellery side line, her parents would notice when she began accumulating items that they knew would have come under her allowance budget.

While eating her chocolate, she signed, hating how controlling they were. She had to reason that it could be a lot worse, for she knew of some kids within her church who were ruled with an iron fist, not given so much as an inch of freedom. At least she could dress in fashionable clothes, albeit none that revealed much more than her arms, and certainly not her legs or chest.

‘You’re nearly twenty, Ava. How much more of them controlling you are you going to put up with?’

Hiding her purchases in her college bag before heading home, she caught the bus back, hearing the usual whisperings from people who paid attention to politics about the governor's daughter being present on public transport. She wasn’t like a famous personality or anything, but on occasion, she was recognised.

“All that money and he makes his kid take the bus?”

“Imagine if someone tried to snatch her for ransom?”

“Not exactly setting a good image, making his child use public transport when she’s more than old enough to drive.”

“I don’t appreciate being gossiped about. The dynamics of our family are truly no one else’s business but ours. Now, unless you have the surname Martin and are a part of that family, I kindly ask you to keep your opinions to yourself.” What Ava really wanted to do was scream at them that they should shut the fuck up, but she’d get into trouble for doing that.

Again, there it was, the control, the fact she had to act poised and refined in public in order to send the right message, be the wholesome governor’s daughter. Thankfully, that evening, she got to be a whole lot less wholesome.

“Fuck me, you look amazing,” Chris groaned, after she’d wiggled out of her dress in the hallway of his cabin, surprising him with her new underwear literally as soon as they were through the door.

“I thought they’d go nicely with your eyes,” she purred, dropping her bag and jacket as she kicked off her shoes.

“Very nicely with what I’m about to take from your neck as well, if I may?”

“Of course, you may. You have to, really. In order to take me upstairs and rail me into the middle of next week.” It was a necessary that a vampire feed prior to having sex, else nothing would happen where getting an erection was concerned.

“I know, but it’s polite to ask. I shall eat you in another way in return as well.” Moving her hair from her neck, he kissed her softly, fangs plunging in a second later, leaving her tingly all over. It hurt to hell and back at first, but fuck, once that burning pain faded, it was so erotic. Lifting her up, she wrapped her legs around him, being carried upstairs as he laid kisses to her cleavage, running his tongue over each risen dome of her breasts.

Landing on the bed with a giggle, she watched him pull off his t shirt, grabbing her by the back of her knees and hauling her closer, mouth at her navel, tongue circling while his hands stroked her thighs. “I almost don’t wanna take these off. Seriously, they’re bloody gorgeous. Red is definitely your colour. You should paint your toenails to match, not that these little feet aren’t pretty enough.”

Grasping her foot, he sucked her toes, biting them with a playful growl as Ava giggled, his hands pulling down her undies. Red toenails, gosh. To her mother, that would be hussy territory. It was nude, glitter or nothing. “What do you want to look like you have corpse nails for?” her father had playfully cried when he’d seen her checking out matte black manicure looks. The usual French polish remained on her long, stiletto tips. It was still a surprise to her that she’d been allowed those.

All of those thoughts drifted far from her mind at feeling his cool mouth close around all that was hot, her sex sucked upon hungrily by her vampire lover as he knelt at the edge of the bed, hands running up her back to unclip her bra, pinching her nipples as his tongue whirled over her clit in a slow, circular lick. He was really starting to enjoy himself when the feeling of another shot through his blood. No. Not her. Please, not her. A second passed and then there she was, making Ava shriek in surprise.

“Well, look who we have here! Governor Martin’s daughter in the arms, well no, the mouth of my offspring! How do you do, Miss Martin,” Magda drawled, Chris grabbing either end of the duvet and wrapping Ava in it to protect her modesty, turning to his creator with a look of red eyed venom.

“I told you to stop coming here.”

“You may tell me a lot of things, Christopher, but while I’m the creator and you’re the offspring, I’m under no obligation to do any of them. You, on the other hand, you have to do as you’re told. Stop playing with your little toy and come satisfy me for a few hours. Or you can fuck me in front of her, if the mood takes you. I’ll even let you break my back.”

“No.” He had to at least try, even if it did end in a physical fight he couldn’t win.

“But you will, you’ll do as you’re told.”

“No, he won’t. Chris doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to. He’s with me tonight, so that means satisfying you is something he shan’t be doing,” Ava spoke bravely, picking up on his energy, how he felt within at the prospect of such. It was mostly anger, but what she felt going off like a flare within him was panic. He was scared. She couldn’t tell why, whether the fear was for him or her, but it was very present.

Magda couldn’t remember the last time anyone had been so bold in front of her, the old vampire entertained greatly by the chutzpah of her offspring’s young lover. “Oh, little witch. Give him up now and you don’t get hurt. Speak to me like that again, and I’ll disembowel you and make him fuck me upon your remains. Clear? If not, I can...”

This was as far as Magda got, Ava experiencing the pulsing anger charge through her, her right arm feeling like it was about to explode, the action not conscious as she threw it out in her aggressor's direction, Magda flying backwards and hitting the opposite wall, Ava holding her there as she stood, walking over.

“Firstly, you will never, ever threaten me again.” Her first statement was delivered coldly, her voice sounding different to even herself as rage pulsed through her, Chris standing motionless, his eyes flitting between them.

Taking a deep breath, Ava continued. “It’s obvious he doesn’t stand up to you, or likely can’t, I don’t know, I’m not all that clued up about your relationship other than he absolutely hates you. Me, though? I’ll stand up to you. I’m not afraid of you, Magda. Now, leave him alone. Leave us alone, in fact. Because that’s what it is, him and me, us. Not him and you.”

“You’ll pay for this.”

“No, you will if you come near me again. If I can hold you against a wall with just the power of my mind, imagine what I could do to you if I really tried.” Letting her go, Magda hit the floor in a heap, straightening quickly and adjusting her dress as with a scowl, she left, her pride hurting that the young witch had defeated her so effortlessly.

“Not that I’m jealous, what we are has yet to be clearly defined, but do you really enjoy having sex with that odious woman? Fuck she’s a piece of work, she...” That was as far as Ava got, Chris zooming in front of her and planting his mouth upon hers, kissing her in thanks for being the first person ever to stand up for him in the face of his vile creator. She had just done exactly what he couldn’t; executed true and blinding power over her, and told her no, a no Magda couldn’t overpower.

“I don’t want to talk about Magda any more. All I want to say is that you’re fucking brilliant, an amazing witch for being able to do that. Now, no more talk. She’s not going to ruin our night.” Kissing her again, he steered her back in the direction of the bed, resuming their previous places prior to being disturbed.

“I threw a fucking vampire into a wall!” Suddenly cried, sitting up when the magnitude of what she’d done hit her after a slight delay.

He looked up, not stopping for a moment, letting go of his suck on her clit with a little slurp. “Just as long as you don’t throw me into a wall. It was amazing, though, to see someone hand her arse to her. Anyway, we’ll talk more about your growing abilities later. Right now, the only thing I wanna hear come from your mouth are wails.”

She rested back again, a soft sigh leaving her mouth at feeling his tongue darting in a zig zag over her clit, making it swell, a groan pouring from her when he sped up. Her hands floundered before settling either side of his head, fisting tightly at his scalp as her hips began to purl against his mouth,

He was as unrelenting as a monsoon, the rain of pleasure utterly torrential, Ava lost to the heat of it as it roared through her like an untamed fire, her thighs writhing against his face as he ate her rapaciously. She was tender against the unyielding licks, a chorus of sweet swears leaving her mouth as she lost herself to biting crackles that roared through her.

He barely gave her chance to recover before his fingers slipped within her molten walls, massaging her deep at first before applying pressure more shallowly. She knew exactly what he wanted, for her to soak him. How she did once he’d gotten her there, her squirt hitting his chest as his fingers powered against her, his mouth closing over her slit and sucking the rest down, removing his jeans, climbing onto the bed and turning her flat on her front.

He parted her thighs wide, aligning himself against her dripping cunt before sliding in, his groan the pinnacle of beastly, tongue running up her spine. He dragged her slowly, his hands grasping the beautiful orbs of her ass, her little gasps making his insides sizzle. The heat of her had him melting right to his very marrow, kissing her from one shoulder to the other, Ava juddering with delight beneath him, turning her head to receive a kiss of scorching passion.

Her nails clawed the sheets as he filled and emptied her deliciously slowly, wailing as she was speared so deeply, she felt his balls press into her with every thrust, her back curving in response to ruinous way in which he fucked her. It was scalding, the way his cool body slid against hers, moving one of her legs up and somehow, managing to hit her deeper, her clit pressing to the bed below as he bore his weight down into her, the graze of the fabric rubbing her as his cock arrowed her second release into her.

“You’ve ruined humans for me,” she gasped through her shaky breaths, Chris laughing softly.

“Good.” That ruining continued for hours to come, finally giving Ava the chance to recover a little at midnight, resting his head on her stomach as he stroked her sweaty thigh, his witch coming her nails through his hair as she observed him.

“Why this?” she questioned, running her fingertip over his frown line crease.

“You have to go in an hour,” he lamented, turning his head to kiss her sternum.

Sitting up, she moved his head to her thigh, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Nope, I don’t, actually. I told my parents I was staying at Megan’s place, so you have me all night.” The grin that spread across his face made her smile immediately, Chris suddenly getting up and striding towards the door.

“Follow me, I have something to show you before I continue banging the life out of you.” He left the bedroom, Ava picking up his t shirt and pulling it on, not sure why but feeling like she needed to be somewhat dressed. Chris wasn’t precious about nudity whatsoever. He often told her he only bothered dressing if he was actually leaving the house.

“Okay, so what do you have to show me?” she asked, arriving at his side in the lounge.

Turning to look at her, he beamed, tugging his t shirt and kissing her head. “You look adorable in this, it buries you! Okay, what I have to show you are right here. All of these, they’re complete volumes on witchcraft, probably totalling thousands of spells and incantations. By sheer coincidence, my brother and sister live in a house once owned and now haunted by a witch, and these were all hers. Now, they’re all yours, to keep here, along with any other books or witchcraft associated paraphernalia you wish to buy, but want to hide from your parents.”

Ava could hardly believe her eyes as she viewed them all, the old, magical texts, some dating back hundreds of years from the look of them, but in absolute pristine condition. And he’d been thoughtful enough to bring them there, just for her. “I, I can’t thank you enough. This, this is all I’ve ever wanted, historical documentation over my kind, old spells, the resource right there at my fingertips! Thank you, so, so much, Chris.”

“You’re welcome. I sat and read them all already, so I can be clued up if you want to discuss anything within them with me. I mean, I know I’m not a witch, but I’d like to be encouraging as you learn more about the fact that you are.”

Right there, in the gesture and his words, was a kind of commitment Ava wasn’t expecting to come from him, wanting to be in her life for more reasons than to just have sex with her. Still, what they were wasn’t defined, but she knew such an action showed that he was definitely fonder of her than she’d expected him to be.

“What? What’s that puzzled look for?”

“Nothing, it’s just... it’s so lovely, what you did.” Sliding her arms around his waist, she kissed his chest, the stillness within him as comforting as ever. But then, Chris being Chris...

“I guess I’ll let you suck my dick as a thank you.”

Her eye roll had him in hysterics, but right there by the bookcase containing her new library, she crouched down and said thank you.

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