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#or maybe well just keep on the little missions and see where that takes us
justkending · 3 days
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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 5)
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Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)
A/N: I think we are staying on track for this to wrap up within two more chapters, but again, we are both in the dark if that's the case😂 Thank you guys for the love! If you are wanting to be tagged, please send me an ask. It's a lot easier for me to keep track of who's been added and who hasn't :)
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Y/N’s POV:
Okay, so maybe I blew up a little more than necessary, but I tried to chill out before he started chasing me, ordering that I didn’t walk away and talk to him. Let a girl try to get a hold of her emotions for a second big guy.
I’ve been anxious all day, waiting to talk to him about some deep seeded trauma, and then he comes and screws up all of it with a simple exception to an invitation. I know he didn’t mean harm by it, but he’s a trained professional. That was not a trained professional response. Plus, stepping out of my normal routine of being a bitch to him to keep him at a distance wasn’t just a switch I could flip.
Again, I could have handled that better, but now my brain is in mission mode, trying to reprogram what this night has set up for us. Considering the invitation was for tonight, it gave me little to no time to prepare.
“What time did she say dinner was?” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was going through our small, hidden arsenal of gadgets Tony had made for us.
“Six,” Bucky replied from his room down the hall.
Great, that was forty-five minutes from now… “Ok, I can do this.” Deciding it was best to keep some bugs on hand in case we could plant them in the house, and we would be planting them, I needed to consider sizes and placements.
“Should we bring over some wine or something?” Bucky’s voice was now in the doorway to my room, but I kept my back to him as I sifted through our tools.
“I made a pie earlier today. We can take that,” I answered absentmindedly.
“Why’d you make a pie?”
“Felt like it,” I shrugged and walked out of the closet with three small wires/ bugs in hand. When I looked up, I saw he had changed into a nicer button-up and was tightening a tie around his collar he hadn't been wearing earlier. “Why are you wearing a tie?” I examined him.
“Same reason you’re wearing a nicer dress. I want to make a good impression,” he shrugged, straightening pieces of his outfit.
“I’m wearing this because we were going to our ‘anniversary dinner,’” I made sure to put the lie in hand quotes. “I had a story that went with it, but this can pass as casual, too,” I motioned to my dress and moved toward him, placing the wires on the bed. “This looks like you’re about to give a sales pitch.”
Without thinking, I pop his collar up and loosen the tie to get rid of it. The whole time I’m focusing on untying it, I ramble about what the plan is for the night.
“I’m going to give you a wire to put wherever you see fit, and I’ll do the other two. I’ll excuse myself to use the bathroom and sneak it where it’s needed. I feel it’s important we look for cameras already in the house in case it’s a setup. We don’t need them having hard proof that we bugged their place. We want to come off as simple yet good assets if we want them to bring us on board for their work,” I struggle with a certain spot on the tie he somehow fixed in an efficient way I’d never seen. “Jesus, were you a sailor in another life? Might as well have knotted it.”
He doesn’t respond, but I get it off in the next two seconds and look at him to see he had been studying me intently as I invaded his space. I see my slip-up, push the tie into his chest, and take a step back.
“Sorry.”
“No problem,” he answers rather calmly, and I look at his eyes, seeing patience there. Always that damn patience. How did he still have it with me even with how I’ve treated him? “Listen-”
“About last night,” I say at the same time, and he seems shocked but gives a single nod to tell me to continue. “I want to say I’m sorry for being all over the place recently. From last night to thirty minutes ago.”
He seems frozen by my apology, and I became anxious enough that I start to word vomit.
“I took some time to think after last night and spent the day stressing, thinking how I was going to talk to you about it because I do want to. I want to get what I can out on the table if you’d be ok with that,” I look up through my lashes, and I see the most subtle turn of his lip as he watches me attentively.
“Are you hinting that there’s a chance I’ll get to see the side of you others are lucky enough to see?” he retorts, grin growing and taking a step closer to me.
His use of the word ‘lucky’ shortcircuits my brain, and all I can do is nod once, slowly, as my answer. He takes another step, and I match it with one back. I feel more vulnrable than I was expecting to.
“You can understand now why having our plans for the night changed made me slightly temperamental.”
“I think slightly may be an understatement.”
“I think you still should choose your words carefully,” I say, tightening my smile. However, it doesn’t shut him down like normal. Instead, he laughs under his breath, and the doorbell rings.
Both of our heads shoot toward the noise, and solemnity takes over the room.
“You don’t think that’s,” Bucky pauses as he turns back to me.
“How often am I wrong?” I take a deep breath in and smooth my dress out as I walk over, pausing beside him. “Hide the wires. I already did a sweep of the house while you were getting ready to make sure we didn’t have anything out of place. I’ll tell them you’re getting ready.”
I don’t need to open the door to know who it is, but when I do, the urge to yell, “I told you so!” in Bucky’s face is strong.
“Bethanne!” I smile kindly and immediately notice the dish in her hand. Reggie is behind her, holding two others, looking like he just got off work and had been dragged over here. “Did Beau tell me wrong? Are we not eating at y’all’s house tonight?”
She scrunches her face in a practiced motion and lifts the ceramic bowl up as she explains.
“I hate to ask this of you, but our oven is still the old rickety one. The new one had some faulty design, and we had to ship it back. Needless to say, it decided to give out on us today of all days,” she raised her shoulders. “I know we sprung the dinner on you suddenly, but would you two be willing to host if we provide the food?”
Not on the money of what I guessed, but pretty fucking close to the money if you ask me.
“Who is it, Doll?” Bucky’s voice carries from the hallway he’s now emerging from. The first three buttons on his dress shirt are undone, and he’s messing with the cuffs on the sleeves. “Hey, Bauers,” he smiles yet still holds shock in his features by the neighbor's appearance. “Did we get the time wrong?” he asks, looking at his watch before coming to my side, where I've now moved and am letting themselves in.
“No, no, no,” Bethanne shakes her head and hands off one of the pots to me as she takes one from Reggie, who looks more bothered to be here than happy. Long day human trafficking, asshole? “We had some appliance issues thanks to some of the renovations we were doing. I was just asking your wife if we can use your house as tonight's setting and possibly use your oven while here.”
Without hesitance, Bucky takes the dish from my hands and the dish Bethanne had swapped for and nods for Reggie to follow him.
“No problem at all. Let me help you ladies with that. Char," A nickname he had never used for my character before, but it seemed to work fluently. "Would you like to get some wine for the two of you while I get this organized in the kitchen?” he asks me, placing a kiss on the side of my head while his hands are full as he walks towards the other room.
I don’t know how he’s learned to play his role so well, but it’s convincing, even to me.
“Uh, yeah,” I almost stutter in my response as I motion for Bethanne to follow me to the wine cooler out in the garage. “Red or white with tonight's dish?”
"Do you have any more husbands like that in the back I can steal? What a gentleman," she coos, shoulder-bumping me.
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Half an hour of baking the food and getting it plated, and our conversation continued with questions mostly strictly about us, which would have been fine if not for the reason behind such invasive intentions.
They started off simple. How’d you guys meet? Who made the first move? What did we love about the town so far? What kind of hobbies and adventures did we take on before moving here? All questions we had prepared for, and if not, could easily improvise.
So far. No slip-ups. If anything, we sold the scheme far better than I’d imagined we would even when they became more personal. And our discussion on being the ‘prude couple’ last night seemed to affect Bucky’s actions a lot more than I was expecting.
An obvious hand on my thigh under the table and an arm thrown over my seat in a slightly possessive manner seemed to catch the eye of Reggie, who mimicked some of the moves as if it were a competition.
In addition, Bucky kept making small compliments about how I looked and how smart I was when they asked about my job. Dropping little comments about things I did (not my character) that he loved and appreciated.
“She’s always doing things like that. I almost never have to worry about making coffee in the morning because she has it all set up just to hit a button and go.”
“You should ask Charlotte about that! She’s the reason our house looks like a home. I’m sure she could give some advice on the kitchen backsplash.”
“She may not know how to boil an egg correctly, but her baking skills are unmatched. I've put on a few pounds now that we have a nice kitchen to spend time in."
I did my best not to act shocked every time he dropped a compliment, but the fact he could have made shit up for my character and used those details as conversation pieces, yet he went the honest way (although more convincing, of course), shocked me.
“Speaking of baking skills,” Reggie nodded his head back to the kitchen counter behind us and smiled at me. “I spied a pie on the counter. Any chance we can have that to finish off this dinner?”
I was still staring at Bucky from his last form of appreciation when I blinked out of my distraction and returned to our neighbor.
“Oh, of course! I was just about to offer,” I smiled, standing up, and Bucky quickly stood next to me, pulling my chair out. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm as I moved around to the counter.
“How sweet. Oh, Charlotte, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is?” Bethanne asked, standing and giving her husband a look for not showing the same chivalry as Bucky.
I watched her, knowing that I would have used the same excuse to do what we planned to at their house. But I was two steps ahead of her.
“Of course! Beau, do me a favor and get some plates out for dessert. I’m going to show Beth-”
“Oh, I’m sure I can find it,” she waved off, coming around the table and moving to the hall promptly.
Yeah… Not without a chauffeur, honey.
“No problem,” I waved off, moving with her casually. “I need to grab some floss from my bathroom before dessert. I’ll show you to it.”
I can see the most subtle glaze of annoyance at my insistence, but she smiles and walks a step ahead of me.
I show her to the bathroom and make it seem I’m going into the master down the hall while she’s in there. And I do, but I keep an eye to make sure she isn’t snooping in any other room besides the one. We’ll have to survey it after they leave, but better that and the dining room than the whole house.
Once we’re back with the boys, no wandering to be done, Bucky helps me plate a slice of chocolate pie for each of us, and I offer to move the conversation to the porch. Any kind of redirection from the comfort of the inside of our home is welcome.
“I love how you’ve decorated your porch. It’s so cozy,” Bethanne notices, pointing out the colorful decorative pillows, hanging swing the size of a daybed, and loads of plants and decor that make the space more intimate. She and Reggie are sat on the two rocking chairs facing the front yard, and Bucky and I are sat close together on the swing, where he’s controlling the tempo we sway in.
“I always wanted a spot outside to escape. We didn’t really have that at our last home, and it was important for me to have this time around,” I replied.
My answer is actually very true. I loved being outside, especially when it was something as simple as sitting in the backyard or swinging on a porch. I had one requirement about this mission, one I’m not even sure Bucky knew about. But I asked Tony to supply a nice budget for the porch.
Call it cheesy, but growing up in such an unnatural and dehumanizing way, you crave a small part of that normalcy you see on the movie screens. For some reason, a porch I could escape on but still be within the comfort of my own home was a dream. And because it was, I thought I’d make this situation a little more bearable by granting that small wish I always had.
“Well, I may have to start budgeting for a new kind of renovation,” she patted Reggie’s back, and he gave her a tight-lip smile. "What do you say, Reg? Do you think we can get a swing like that one?” She smiled over at us just as Bucky pulled me into his side, his arm going around my waist and his hand resting on my hip bone.
“I have a feeling we might as well have built a home from scratch by the time you’re happy with the renovations we’ve taken on,” Reggie answered with a nod before taking a swig from his beer. “Get that recipe for the pie from Charlotte, and I’ll consider buying you a new porch,” he winked my way and turned back to the front of our lawn.
I instantly found Bucky’s hand tightening, and his thumb started rubbing in an up-and-down pattern along my hip. When I turned to him slightly, his gaze stayed on Reggie.
Before finishing cleaning up for the night, we said goodbye to our guests, and just when we thought we hadn’t made any headway in our conversation about work (mind you, we had dropped hints and notices about it all night, but neither of the two seemed to take the bait), Reggie stopped on the last step to our porch and turned to Bucky.
“You mentioned working in transportation, and by the sounds of your new job up here, if you’re interested in a more innovative place, I may have some ins for you,” he shook Bucky’s hand. “I have some coworkers around the states that could use some employees like you on their route.”
“I may take you up on that offer. It all depends on how this week rolls out,” Bucky answered perfectly. The Bauers said their goodbyes, and we watched them walk home before turning to each other.
In a silent celebration, we grinned at the invitation and then sent wordless glances to tread carefully when we got in before scoping the place for bugs…
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Bucky’s POV:
I’m not surprised that the blonde sole cycle instructor of a neighbor was able to get a wire in our bathroom, but neither Y/N nor I were in the mood to remove it right away and give away our knowledge of it, so we each grabbed another drink for the night and debriefed subtly on the porch where the only bugs we had to mind were the crickets chirping their music for the night.
Bethanne was right. Our porch was nicely done, and I hadn’t even noticed Y/N had hung lights out here until she plugged them in.
“I feel like this spot is more put together than the rest of the house.” I noticed the details when we were out here earlier. Now, we both have taken up spots in the rocking chairs our neighbors had vacated.
“I may have focused more of my attention on this spot than the others,” she smiled as she brought a tumbler glass up to her lips. She had drank wine while Bethanne was here, but as soon as they were gone, the whiskey I had made a glass for myself was stolen out of my hand before I could take a sip. Now, we had each of our own.
“Was what you said about the porch a real thing? I mean, we have balconies at the compound,” I looked at her as I sat my drink on the small table between us.
“Balconies and porches aren’t the same. At least in my head, they aren’t,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh and resting her glass in her lap. “Did you mean what you said when you were complimenting me all night?” She lulled her head to the side to look at me.
I had been making compliments. It felt easier to use the ones I had picked up on than the ones I made up. Yet again, I think anyone should get the recognition they deserve when they excel in something. Y/N just tended to excel in more than I think she was aware of. And I was learning she didn’t seem to be used to people taking note of those things.
“Why lie?” I shrugged, starting to rock in a steady pattern.
“Because that’s this whole gig. A lie,” she answered, taking another pull of the hard liquor.
I considered her perspective and shook my head, looking out to the lights on the other side of the street. “I guess it gets tiring at points. Don’t really feel like doing it if the truth can be just as usable.”
She didn’t answer for quite a few seconds, and when I turned back to her, she was staring at me like she was waiting for another shoe to drop.
“How are you so patient? Seriously, is it a drug Tony made you before you had to deal with me on this mission? I don’t get it,” she laughs, but I can hear the genuine confusion in it as she sits forward and turns her body to me.
Honesty. I’m in a mood to be 100% honest.
“Want me to be real with you?” I asked, turning my own body.
“It’d be preferred,” she nods and rests both her arms on the armrest.
“I don’t know anything about your past, but I know most people have a reason for acting the way they do. It took years and a ton of patience before I felt like I was even close to who I used to be. I still struggle to come to terms with the fact I’ll never be who I was before the train incident,” I sigh and rest my head back against the chair as I look at her. “I guess I have understanding more than patience. I understand that you have a history of your own that I don’t know, and I can’t blame you for a lot of the things you do.”
“But you should. I’m an asshole to you,” she says, and the admission is kinda nice to hear, even if it is sad.
“Yeah, and I was hoping you’d be willing to share why that is,” I reply calmly.
She tenses some and sits back in her chair, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed, the chair rocking with her movement and her dress overflowing past her knees.
“I guess now is as good a time as ever…” She looked at me sidelong before finding comfort in the view in front of her instead. “I didn’t really have a chance to develop a personality of my own because of my time in this lifestyle,” she motions around her, “started as soon as I could walk. So I had no identity to fall back on since I had to find it after I escaped.”
I had questions, but I found it best just to listen. Clearly, what she was talking about wasn’t something she brought up lightly, and being an ear to listen was what she needed right now.
“I was left behind by whichever no-good parent gave me up, and Adonis Hummel took me as his own and decided he’d try to recreate the famous assassin, The Winter Solider, from birth practically.”
The name drop came quickly and struck home. I didn’t know her whole story, but I had enough imagination and experience to believe where she was going.
“Wait, Hummel?” I started because the name sounded familiar, but…
“He was a low-level scientist who worked for Hydra when they were still using you under Pierce. He thought he had the brains and resources to create his own version of you. A version that would be more undetectable as a woman and a version he could tweak however he wanted,” she rolled her shoulders. “Lucky for him, I didn’t have to be brainwashed since I knew nothing besides the life of abuse, experimentation, and a shit ton of conditioning... " 
"To clarify, I say that for context, not sympathy,” she straightened, and I could see her shifting back to her unbothered disposition, but the truth was shining through the cracks. She may not have wanted sympathy, but something about the vulnerability seemed to lighten the load on her shoulders.
“As for why I may have built a wall around you, an unhealthy and senile wall, I felt as though…” She gulped as if the next part was harder for her to say than the abuse of her past. “I felt as though you had been my competition my whole life, and a part of me, a young and in-need-of-therapy part of me, thought it was best to keep you as far away as possible and hold onto that anger instead of work through it. It felt easier than facing the fear that I didn’t actually equate to you in any way. So that’s another reason why I felt everything with you was to prove a point.” She lets out a short breath after using all the air in her lungs in one swift swoop.
I-
It’s a lot to take in…
She doesn’t move her head back towards me after her confession, and I can’t seem to break my stare from her.
“This is where you say something like, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m actually an asshole either way, so we can go on hating each other for completely understandable reasons!’ or I don’t know? Anything but silence would be preferred, though…”
Her hand is gripping the arm rest unconsciously like an anchor keeping her on earth.
On instinct, I reach across and pull her hand into mine, keeping my stare heavy, enticing her to look at me.
She closes her eyes at first and takes another short breath before turning.
“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unworthy of being on the team.” I feel like I personally am the reason for her suffering, even if I had no correlation with her before I joined the team. "You are more than an asset to the team and are your own kind of weapon. It's incomparable."
“Ugh,” she sniffles and rubs an eye with the heel of her free hand as if to disguise a possible tear as allergies. “This would be so much easier if you were a piece of shit misogynistic asshole, but you're part of the few good ones out there. Steve, Sam, and Clint included, not Tony,” she noted.
I smiled, thinking about how I’d make a team like that even if she had me believe otherwise for so long.
“What I’m trying to get at, B, is you’re not the one I should be blaming for my past. You’re just as much a victim as I am, but I took the easy way out of making it more manageable for me, and I only made it harder for us both in the end. And for that,” she turned and stared into my eyes fully, the hand she held squeezing my own. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve an ounce of the kind of cruelness I tried to bury you in. You are the opposite of what they tried to make you, and you’re genuine in proving that to anyone who meets you. I've been envious of the strength you have, and I can say confidently that I deeply regret ever blaming you for that.”
I once again have to process yet another collection of words I’d never thought I hear. From her. Ever. A part of me believed this was a dream, but the part that Y/N had a grip on was practically pinching me into reality.
Without hesitating, I stood up, pulled her arm up with me, and yanked her into my body in a crushing hug.
She froze at first… The motion was quick and surprising, but slowly, she unhooked our hands, brought both of hers tightly around my waist, and laid into me. I rested my head on top of hers and pulled her shoulders in with my arms, wrapping both of my own tightly around her.
I wasn’t going to let go until she did, and by the looks of it… She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.
Marvel Tags:
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My Lovelies Forever:
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Bucky Barnes Tags:
@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes
Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:
@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim @lovelybaka @heletsmelovehim @bubblegumbeautyqueen @mostlymarvelgirl @that-d-bitch @rabbitrabbit12321
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kirnet · 5 months
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i still have to tighten everything up but i think i have a fun new setting for a dnd campaign :D it’ll be set in a big magical floating city that is situated in an overlap of a lot of different planes, and where portals to these planes naturally open up. Adventurers are hired to go into these portals and retrieve rare materials or artifacts for magical components and work either as freelance parties or work under companies. And of course there’s gonna be a lot of infighting of different company factions and black markets and sky pirates bc of course i want sky pirates. Also has the benefit of keeping one set location to focus on while still allowing me to send players to cool new locations!
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sttoru · 4 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. height difference + jjk men — seeing you struggling to initiate a kiss, ft. gojo, nanami, toji, choso
note. super self indulgent once again woopsies
tags. jjk men x female reader (separately). fluff, suggestive themes. size difference obviously: reader is shorter than the characters. little hint of an age gap in toji’s part (you; early 20’s, he early 30’s). reader gets referred to as ‘small, short, adorable’. nicknames used ‘baby, sweetheart, princess, little girl, angel’. includes drabbles for each character.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
“what’s the matter, baby?” satoru easily notices whenever you’re internally debating something. you’d fidget with your clothes, look around and nibble on your bottom lip.
even if you say that it’s nothing, your lover knows that you mean the exact opposite. he walks hand-in-hand with you out of the boutique where he had bought you a pretty dress. his thumb rubs your skin gently, hoping to comfort you with whatever you’re struggling to say.
“it’s uhm,” you finally speak up. satoru halts his steps and tilts his head with a curious pout on his lips. he doesn’t wish to pressure you into anything, so he keeps quiet.
his blue eyes follow your movements from behind his sunglasses. you step closer to him, your small hands travelling up to gently hold onto his jacket. you gulp before balancing your entire body on your toes—creasing your shoes a bit by doing so.
at this point, satoru knows what you’re trying to do. your actions are absolutely adorable and make the sorcerer giggle. he wants nothing more than to squish your cheeks together for being so cute. especially because you’re failing to reach his lips.
“oh, do y’need help maybe?” satoru asks with a smug grin. you frown and try to stand on the tips of your toes, though that didn’t seem enough. your lover needs to lower his head a tad more for you to kiss him.
satoru tilts his head backwards instead. he loves to see you pout and struggle to carry out such an affectionate act. he can’t help it—you’re so fun to tease, “c’mon, you can do it, baby!”
when you give up due to his constant teasing, the white-haired man gasps dramatically. you smack his bicep and turn around with a huff, “forget it.”
before you can take another step away from him—satoru’s hand reaches out to hold your wrist. he pulls you back against his chest, warm palm holding your cheek and tilting your head up so his glossy lips could meet yours.
“sorry,” satoru mutters against your mouth. his tongue sneakily swipes against yours which causes you to squirm. he gives your bottom lip a playful nibble in response, “couldn’t resist teasing you a little.”
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𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
“welcome home, dear!” you greet kento at the front door as per usual. he sighs in relief and smiles tiredly, appreciating your appearance before him. he seems utterly exhausted from his most recent mission.
“it’s good to see you, sweetheart,” kento shuts the door behind him. he takes off his shoes and places them where they belong before doing the same with his coat. he looks down at you as you help him tidy his belongings, “you’re looking beautiful tonight.”
to say you’re flustered is an understatement. kento always knows just how to get you shy and embarrassed from the casual way he compliments you. you’re in your pyjamas and apron—barefaced with nothing extra going on and yet your lover is completely engrossed by your looks.
“thank you,” you murmur back with a bright smile. kento smiles as well after seeing your happy expression. that’s what he does it for.
you hold kento’s hand and feel its warmth engulf your skin. his palms are a little rough; probably from the hard work he put into those recent missions he did. you look up at the blonde man in front of you and want nothing more than to kiss him—show your gratitude for everything he does for you.
thus, you lean in and stand on your toes, balancing on one foot whilst the other floats a few centimetres above the wooden floor. it’s hard to find a balance, though your attentive partner is quick to lend a hand.
“careful,” kento whispers, his voice so husky that you feel a shiver run down your spine. his big hands settle on your waist and he doesn’t waste a single second after that.
he leans in as well, head lowered to yours and your noses lightly brushing against each other. kento’s lips find your soft ones—interlocking them in a passion filled kiss. you can feel his entire body relax even more. as if he’s waited all day to be back home. to be back to you.
to kiss and hold you close.
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𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
“over here, princess,” toji calls you over with a subtle wave. he’s leaning against a brick wall, hands in the pockets of his black jacket. you walk over to him with an excited smile—happy to spend some quality time together with him today.
“hey, i missed you,” you comment and wrap your arms around his waist. you nuzzle your face against his chest to which toji reacts by giving you an awkward head pat.
the older man lifts your head up and away from his body by holding onto your chin. his eyes run over your face, letting out a short content hum. he’s missed you a lot too. not that he’d tell you that directly.
“how’s uni for ya?” toji asks. the pad of his thumb rubs your cheek and you lean into his touch. it brings a little smirk to his face—seeing how easily you become putty in his hands is rather amusing.
“been okay for most part,” you shrug and fail to maintain eye contact with your boyfriend. he probably doesn’t do it on purpose, but his half-lidded eyes makes your lower abdomen feel funny.
you’re still so nervous around him, though you’ve got the guts to at least kiss him first. you missed the feeling of his lips against you after all. the constant, soothing rubs of his thumb against your cheek only intensifies your desire.
you lift yourself up on the tips of your shoes. your cold hands cup toji’s face and he immediately gets what you’re trying to do. he snickers at the sight of you struggling to reach him and acts like he doesn’t know what you want.
. . until you whine about how you really want to kiss him. that man is sold the moment he hears your whiny voice.
“fuck. c’mere, little girl,” toji’s veiny hands go around your waist and move down to cup your ass, his lips crashing down onto yours with a desperation he’s never kissed you with before.
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𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
“do i need to add salt? she’s talking too fast,” choso ask whilst scratching his head. he’s watching a youtube video on his phone; specifically a cooking one. he’s attempting to copy a recipe in his kitchen and you’re helping him since he doesn’t know too much about phones. and cooking apparently.
you giggle and grab the phone from the counter. the lady’s words are incomprehensible due to the video being on two times the usual speed. you return the settings to normal with a light hearted chuckle, “yeah, because you’ve sped up the video, silly.”
“oh,” choso smiles sheepishly. he checks the stove and makes sure the food isn’t burning before turning towards you, “thank you. you’re a lifesaver, heh.”
you can’t help but admire the view of choso in front of you. he’s in an apron which is too small on him since it’s yours—his chiseled chest accentuated by the fabric. his black hair is up in a small ponytail and his cheeks are red. probably from embarrassment.
“you’re adorable,” you comment lovingly. choso’s cheeks turn even redder by your compliment and he sputters some words about how he ‘needs to focus on his cooking’.
you interrupt his stammers by getting closer. your lover stops and his lips are parted—giving you the perfect chance to capture them into a kiss. well, you try to at least
choso notices your silent struggles and blinks. it takes him a second to fully grasp the situation before he decides on helping you. he smiles warmly, his beefy arms effortlessly lifting you up to his height, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.
one hand is on your thigh, the other holding the back of your head to deepen your shared kiss. choso pulls away and attaches his lips to your neck, settling you the counter, “want more, angel. you drive me crazy.”
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10K notes · View notes
audisive · 2 months
Text
♪ WEST COAST. (💌) – next part
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: soap accidentally finds out about simon's girl.
tags: fluff, romance, simon is a big baby !! let us all accept this fact, soap and his assumptions, uh bad jokes, very rushed fic, crack ?, reader can indeed fix simon
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Soap isn't sure when his assumptions started, nor is he sure how it got to Gaz and Price himself. 
Maybe it was when he started to notice that Ghost left base whenever he could. (How come ye never leave base? It's a hassle havin' to go back and forth for nothin', Johnny.) Maybe it was the smudged color of red and pink on his balaclava, the lingering perfume on his hoodie, or his new wallet taking the place of one that was once worn out.
"Wha's yer favorite perfume, LT?" "My enemies' sweat and tears."
(It's well-known that despite the fact that Ghost does consider the 141 to be his family, he keeps his personal life very private and away from them. They respect that, in turn, but let's face it, Soap is nosy.)
Really, it was an accident. Soap swears it was!
He just happened to be passing by his lieutenant in the bar where the team had all gone to celebrate a wreck of a mission that they've managed to successfully finish. Truly, it was an accident when his eyes caught a glimpse of Ghost's new wallet, and he really, very much so did not mean to watch a little too long – long enough for it to open and reveal a hefty amount of cash and a small square of colors, barely noticeable. 
Soap's feet move before he could quietly search for more.
"Got a new wallet, aye?" He slides beside the taller man smoothly, just as the Brit had grunted out another order of Bourbon. Ghost hums in acknowledgement.
"Y'got a crush on me or somethin', Johnny?"
Soap chuckles even if the other does not. "A just happened tae see it. Fancy little thing."
It doesn't take long before Ghost disappears into the night, but the Scot swears his pace was a bit faster than usual when he left the awfully-smelling bar, and Gaz would be lying if he said he didn't see the little picture of a pretty bird tucked away in his scarily huge lieutenant's wallet.
It's not that Soap often makes bold assumptions about people and their personal lives, not when they're out of reach from him, but can you really blame him for thinking that the words 'Ghost' and 'girlfriend' do not sound right in the same sentence? Would it be considered an assumption this time if he'd seen the photo himself? Surely, his superior isn't some perverted freak who keeps an image of a breathtaking woman he randomly found in his private items. Uh, he hopes not, at least.
"Bullshit!" is what a drunken Soap yells when the Brit nonchalantly discloses to the team, without hesitation, that he is simply not interested in dating. He spills everything he's gathered in the past few months, from the smallest hints to the biggest; the unfamiliar strand of hair on Ghost's hoodie to the wallet from months ago.
"A'm no crazy!" Soap convinces no one as he's ushered back to the barracks for making such an insane assumption about the lieutenant in his unreliable state. Ghost's lips curl up into a smirk against the cold glass of Bourbon in his hand, sat back and relaxed with his legs spread wide.
Call him a big baby (he is) for making a fool out of his sergeant instead of just telling the truth and bragging about his angel to the others, but can you blame him? He just wants to keep you tucked away in his pocket, away from everyone else. What are you talking about, lovie? 'Course 'm not ashamed of you. You're just too pretty for them, is all. Gotta keep m' girl safe, yeah?
Besides, they don't have to know the way Simon melts into the nook of your neck when he gets home from deployment or know that he uses your lavender-scented shampoo. And no, it doesn't matter that Johnny knows. It's his word against the lieutenant's. He spares his LT and turns a blind eye this once.
When the time is right, Simon is sure to properly introduce his heart to his unspoken family. For the time being, he just wants to keep you his pretty little secret.
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    divider by @cafekitsune !
6K notes · View notes
girlygirl14534 · 4 months
Text
Body Heat - Bucky x Reader
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Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader
Warnings: Smut, Cock Warming, Snowed In, Only One Bed
Length: 3.7k
Summary: A blizzard knocks out the power in the safehouse where you and Bucky are sharing a bed. Can Bucky keep you warm through the cold night?
Author’s Note: It has been so cold where I live lately and there’s nobody better than Bucky to warm me up. I’m entering this work into @targaryenvampireslayer Blind Date Writing Challenge. I don’t participate in a lot of fandom events, so this was really fun! I used the Only One Bed trope and the Dialogue Prompts “Take your clothes off. Right now,” and “Are you holding back? Don’t.” Happy reading and stay warm! Divider via @firefly-graphics
Read this work on AO3
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“You didn’t even want to get egg rolls,” Bucky whined as you grabbed one off of his plate.
You grinned as you bit into it. He smiled back at you, but his shoulders shifted ever so slightly, tipping you off to his next move. His chopsticks swooped onto your plate in retaliation, but you were ready for him, blocking his attempt on your orange chicken.
He glared at you and you relented. He popped the chicken into his mouth with a satisfied smirk. You rolled your eyes at him and took a sip of your beer. It was a local brew. A little hoppy but not too bitter, with a surprisingly crisp taste. You loved trying beers at every new little town you ended up at. Nothing beat a cold beer after a long mission, even if it was 20 degrees and dropping outside.
It was warm and cozy inside the little cabin. This safe house was cuter than most. It had a little wood stove and lace tablecloth—definitely grandmother-approved. The place was small, but you’d stayed at smaller ones. Although most had at least a few twin size cots. The bed here looked comfortable, but there was only one.
“It’s picking up out there,” Bucky nodded at the window. Outside you could see the snow swirling in the wind.
“The Winter Soldier scared of a little snow?” you teased.
“Oh, shut up. You wouldn’t last ten seconds out there. Remember Helsinki?”
“That is so unfair! I fell into a frozen pond!”
“I told you not to walk on that patch of ice!”
“You were being a know-it-all.”
“That’s because I actually know it all.”
You threw your half-eaten egg roll at him.
“You didn’t even eat it?!”
You shrugged and he glared at you as he finished it. After dinner, you got ready for bed. It had been a long day. When Bucky came out of the shower, you were already under the paisley-printed covers.
He grinned at you. “That’s my favorite bonnet,” he said, nodding at the silky cap on your head.
“You have favorite bonnets of mine?”
He shrugged. “I’ve seen you in enough of them. I love the one with rhinestones on the headband. You look like a queen. The Kirby one is really cute, too.”
“Nice try, Bucky.” You threw a pillow at him. “You’re still sleeping on the floor.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
You knew he was going to jump on the bed a second before he did it, but you didn’t stop him. He looked so satisfied with himself.
“Time for bed,” you said as you started stacking pillows on the bed between you.
“Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off of me?” he teased.
“Don’t think I forgot how you hogged the couch in Bangladesh.”
“I maintain that you rolled off of the couch by yourself.”
“Well then consider it protection from me rolling you off the bed.”
He laughed as you finished the wall of pillows, marking your territory. You were just grateful that the bed was big enough to have your own space and that there were enough blankets that you wouldn’t have to share. You loved Bucky, but in your friendship you were more likely to trade insults than share the covers. Was there something more behind the words you traded? Maybe. Sometimes it felt obvious that he felt the same and other times you were certain that he just saw you as a friend.
If you were just friends, you were friends that lived and worked in very close quarters. You’d had a lot of hands-on moments working the mission with him today. If you had a little more privacy, you’d probably be touching yourself right now thinking about the weight of him on top of you as he tackled you to the ground to protect you, his hair tickling your face as he whispered a new tactical plan into your ear. Instead you were stuck here, close but not close enough. You sighed in frustration.
“Need a bedtime story?” Bucky asked.
“Once upon a time, a former assassin wouldn’t shut up while his teammate tried to sleep.”
“Teammate? That’s all I am to you?” he asked. The hurt and offense in his voice almost sounded real.
“What do you want to be described as?” you asked.
“Just get some sleep, princess.”
You chuckled and rolled over, soon falling asleep. You dreamt of him, of course. Of his hands on you. One warm, one cold. And then it was just his left hand. It was so cold. You let him keep touching you, of course. You didn’t care if you got frostbite. You just wanted him to keep touching you.
You were pissed when you woke up before you could climax. But you quickly realized it wasn’t just cold in your dream. Your teeth were chattering in real life.
“Fuck. It’s freezing,” you said.
“Power’s out,” Bucky said. “Must be the storm.”
“Can we make a fire?”
“I checked. The stove is electric.”
“Are you sure? That thing looks older than you.”
Bucky laughed. “I think I saw a few candles in the cupboard.” He got up and rummaged around in the kitchen. He lit them and placed them around the room.
“Bring one here. Maybe I can warm my hands.”
He laughed as he flopped back onto his side of the bed. “I know it’s cold in here. With the blizzard, there’s no way we’ll make it down the mountain. In the morning, we can—”
“I’m not gonna make it to morning! Feel my fingers!”
Bucky outstretched his right hand toward you, smiling in amusement at what he assumed was exaggeration. When you touched him, his expression changed to one of concern. Maybe things were worse than you thought. Maybe it really was frostbite. Bucky started taking down the pillow barrier.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“You’re right,” he said as he threw pillows over his shoulder and onto the floor.
“Oooh, say that again.”
He laughed. “It’s too cold in here. You need body heat.”
You rolled your eyes but he kept moving pillows. “You’re serious?”
He nodded as he got rid of the last pillow. He awkwardly opened his arms. You scooted closer to him. This wasn’t how you wanted his arms around you, but you were too cold to deny him. He wrapped his big, strong arms around you. You relaxed into his embrace, and not just because of the warmth. He held you tight to him and you would’ve stayed just like forever, but you were still shivering. It felt like the chill had settled into your bones. The extra warmth from Bucky was only making it more obvious just how cold it was in the tiny cabin.
“We need skin to skin,” Bucky said.
You laughed but he didn’t.
“Take your clothes off. Right now,” he said.
Maybe the frigid air was impacting your decision-making, because instead of denying him, you complied. Tried to, anyway. Your fingers were so numb from the cold that you fumbled with the hem of your shirt. He gently nudged your fingers aside and helped you out of your shirt. You’d imagined the first time he took your clothes off a little differently, but you couldn’t care about that now. Once your shirt was off, he took his off too.
He hugged you again then. Your bare skin felt electrified where it touched his. He held your hands to his chest to warm them. With his hardened pecs beneath your fingers, it took all of your willpower not to squeeze.
“Is that better?” he asked.
You nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You stayed like that for a few minutes, afraid to move. Afraid that at some point he’d decide that you were warm enough. You weren’t warm enough. In any sense. You needed him closer for survival, but it became increasingly difficult to tell if you needed him because you were cold or because you were horny.
“You’re not warm enough,” he said finally. You didn’t argue.
When he pulled away, the sudden loss of warmth made your body tense up. He immediately placed his arms around you again.
“I won’t let go of you anymore, okay?”
You hated how pathetic your voice sounded when you responded, “Okay.”
His arm reached between your bodies to pull his pants down. You told yourself that you weren’t going to look, but your eyes had a mind of their own. You watched his fingers grip his waistband and tug down his boxers and his pants. Suddenly he was naked. Even in the dim lighting, you could see how big he was. His eyes went straight to yours to check in, but he found no objection. You looked away to be polite, but felt too awkward to look into his eyes. You turned around so that your back was to his chest. You were grateful that he couldn’t see your face when he started to pull your pants down. If he was hesitant about this plan, his movements didn’t show it. He was smooth and deliberate, quickly ridding you of your pajamas and underwear. When you were both undressed, he pulled you close. When you felt his cock against your ass, you shivered, and it wasn’t because of the freezing temperatures.
“That’s it,” he said. “Turn over.”
He didn’t wait for you to move, effortlessly pulling you onto your back and laying on top of you. Bucky was naked. You were naked. And he was on top of you. You were short of breath just thinking about it.
“Don’t tell me I’m taking your breath away,” he teased.
“You’re heavy,” you retorted. “I think you may need to start laying off the eggrolls.”
As you laughed together, you became hyper aware of how close your bodies were, of just how much physical contact you had. The laughing stopped abruptly.
“Why didn’t you take off my bra?” you whispered. “Afraid that once you see these you’ll be ruined for all other boobs?”
“Yes,” he nodded as he reached under you, large hands rubbing your back and unhooking the clasp. He slowly slid your straps down your arms. He looked into your eyes as he pulled your bra from between your bodies and threw it onto the floor.
Here you were, caged in his warmth, looking deep into his eyes like in one of your fantasies. And yet your instinct was to make a stupid joke, find some way to make this feel less serious. But you couldn’t think straight with his dick resting on your stomach and his warm breath on your face.
“Better?” he asked.
“Eh. Still a little chilly,” you joked breathlessly.
“I can get you warmer,” he said seriously.
You laughed. “I don’t think we could physically be any closer than we are right now.”
He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Well, technically we could be a little closer.”
“Barnes, if I go outside in the morning and find out that you cut the powerlines…”
“I can’t have you dying of hypothermia on my watch. I don’t have to move or anything. Just to keep you warm.”
You wanted to roll your eyes and hit him on the arm, but his sincerity caught you off guard.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I’m not a fan of the cold either. I’ve spent too much of my life frozen already. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought…”
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded. “And don’t worry, when I tell Nat this story, I won’t even mention the shrinkage.”
He laughed with you and then shook his head at you.
“What am I gonna do with you?” he asked.
“Stick your dick in me, apparently.”
He swallowed nervously. “Are you…? Are you ready?” he asked.
You nodded, hoping he wouldn’t question how wet you were already. You certainly weren’t going to bring up the fact that you had felt his length slowly hardening against you for the last few minutes.
“I, uh, just gotta…” He reached down to pump himself a few times, looking anywhere but you. You wanted to change that.
“You can look at me, Bucky.”
His eyes found yours. You’d never seen this expression on his face before. He was never this easy to read. Even though he’d beaten the Winter Soldier programming, he usually always kept a part of himself closed off. Those defenses were gone now. In their place was yearning. A desire so deep it was overwhelming. The way he looked at you was the same way you felt about him.
You arched your back, drawing attention to your chest. “You can also look here, if it helps.”
He looked at your breasts for the first time. His mouth fell open in awe. You hoped you really were ruining him for other women. You hoped he would never look at anyone else like this for as long as he lived. His eyes went from your chest back to your face as he shifted between your legs. You bit your lip when you felt the head of his cock prod your entrance. It would take everything in your power not to moan. This was probably a very bad idea. But still you let your legs fall open wider to give him easier access.
When he first pushed in, you drew a shaky breath. He stopped moving, eyes anxiously searching yours. He was terrified you’d ask him to stop. Quite the contrary.
“That all you got?” you asked.
He smirked at you before resuming his progress. Despite your earlier joke, you felt your walls stretch around him as he pushed further into you. You felt every single inch, but it was torture not being able to wrap your legs around his hips or claw at his back like you wanted to.
When he was fully seated, he stilled. You took a few deep breaths. It was dizzying, being this close to him, this full of him. It was his turn to tell you, “You can look at me, ya know.”
You looked at him in the flickering candlelight. His hair obscured your view of his face. You reached up and tucked it behind his ear. He nuzzled his face against your hand. Your heart skipped a beat. You could feel his warm cock throbbing inside of you. He was looking at you so romantically that you forgot where you were for a moment. Your body did, too. Your pussy clenched around him. You didn’t get a chance to wonder if he’d felt it. You heard him groan. Right before you felt him thrust.
His eyes darted to you, panicked. You’d seen him panic once before, as he pulled you out of the ice in Finland. That day he’d warmed you up by the fire with plenty of hot drinks and some light teasing. You preferred the current method of warming you up. Which is why you let him hear you. You moaned for him. If you’d been less desperate for him to fuck you, you would’ve been embarassed by how needy you sounded. It was nothing compared to the strangled cry Bucky let out with his second thrust. You expected him to keep moving, but he stopped again. He leaned in, eyes urgent.
“The first time I saw you,” he panted, “I knew you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever—”
Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t have him saying things he didn’t mean. “You don’t have to flatter me, Buck—”
“It’s not flattery if it’s true. And you are so beautiful.”
You placed your hands behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss. You weren’t sure what it was going to be like, your first kiss with Bucky. Especially since that first kiss was occurring after he was already inside of you. When your lips touched, you both sighed with relief. His lips were soft. You weren’t expecting that. His tongue probed your lips gently, and you gladly gave it access. He kissed you slowly, like he was savoring every second. He cupped your breast with his right hand, softly stroking it. His touches were almost reverent. It would’ve been romantic if you weren’t so needy. There’d be time for slow and steady. You hoped so, anyway. Right now you needed fire. You needed his touch to chase away the cold.
“Are you holding back on me, Barnes? Don’t.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. He bent his head and attached his lips to your neck. He pulled the delicate flesh between his teeth as the hand on your breast eagerly squeezed. His metal hand tightened its grip on your hip. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d have a bruise in the shape of his handprint tomorrow. Proof that this had actually happened. Proof it wasn’t just the best dream of your life.
Maybe you wanted to mark him, too. Maybe that’s why you tangled your fingers in his hair while you raked the nails of the other hand down his back. He grunted as he drove into you with renewed force, the headboard rattling against the wall.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so wet. So tight. So perfect. Even better than I—” he stopped himself.
“Better than you imagined?” you suggested.
He nodded.
“You imagine me?” you asked, breathless.
“Every day,” he confessed.
You moved your hips in time with his next stroke, taking him deeper than ever. You both cursed. With each thrust, you knew things would never be the same. With each thrust, you got more and more desperate for him to ruin you. You writhed desperately under him and he only gripped you tighter, forcing you to stay still and accept your pleasure like a good girl. He angled his hips so that he was massaging your g-spot with every thrust. The head of his cock dragged against your center of pleasure over and over again in a relentless pursuit for your climax. You wanted to beg him to fuck you harder and faster but you didn’t want this to end yet. Not until he was as ruined as you were.
You took your hands away from him and brought them to your chest. You gripped your breasts tightly and moaned. He was mesmerized. You pinched your nipples and rolled your hips, putting on a show for him. You needed to know that he would never forget this. That he would never forget you. You tugged on your nipples and cried his name.
“That’s my job,” he said. You smirked at him.
You put your fingers in his open mouth and brought them to your clit and started rubbing slow circles. You watched his eyes darken. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth again, closing his eyes in pleasure as he licked your fingers clean. Instead of putting your hand back where he found it, he brought his metal fingers to your clit instead, taking over your ministrations there. The cold, hard metal rhythmically massaged the sensitive bundle of nerves until his name was the only word in your vocabulary.
You wouldn’t last much longer. You’d see to it that neither would he. You attached your lips to his neck and sucked a bruise into the skin. His fingers on your clit went from slow circles to frantic figure 8s. Your back arched in pleasure as you felt your walls tighten around Bucky’s cock. His hips stuttered as he flooded you with warmth. Your legs shook when you felt him fill you. You whimpered his name. He whispered yours. Before you could even catch your breath, it happened.
You both knew the second the power turned back on. The hum of the fridge, the rattle of the old radiator, the red “Off” light on the coffee pot. It was like a bomb going off in the bubble you’d built. You looked at each other, startled, as if you were just realizing the extent of what you had done. For a split second, you considered pulling away from him and getting dressed, pretending none of this had ever happened. But you didn’t want that, not while his cum was still warm inside you and aftershocks of your orgasm were still rocking your core. You two spoke at the same time.
“It’ll probably take a while before you’re warm eno—”
“The power could go off again at any mo—”
“Sorry—”
“What were you saying—”
You both chuckled self-consciously.
“You love being inside me, don’t you, Barnes?” you teased with no taunting in your voice. You felt his dick twitch. You rolled your hips. “Is that a yes?”
He bit his lip and looked at you with more than lust. It was devotion.
“Yes,” he said finally.
“Good. Because you’re the only one that can keep me warm.”
“What about me?” he asked.
You looked at him, perplexed.
“I get cold, too.”
“What can I warm up for you, Bucky?”
“My ears are kinda cold,” he said.
Oh. Not exactly what you were thinking about warming up, but ok. You reached out to stroke the side of his face. He smiled and blushed, but nuzzled into your hand.
“Your thighs should be pretty warm now…”
Oh. Your thighs could keep his ears warm. You would happily straddle his face in the name of reciprocity. It was the least you could do, right?
The next morning, you woke up wrapped in Bucky’s arms. The heat hadn’t gone out again during the night, but you still felt like you needed Bucky’s warmth.
“I didn’t tamper with the generator,” Bucky said. “But I should have. I should’ve warmed you up like that when you fell into the lake.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Would you have let me?”
You nodded.
“You would have?!”
“I bought the Kirby bonnet for you,” you confessed.
“What?”
“I know how much you like playing Mario Kart with Sam. I thought you’d like it. I thought maybe it’d make you like me.”
He scoffed. “Are you kidding? By that point, I was already in lo—I mean, I, uh. I really do love Mario Kart, you’re right.”
“Nice save.”
“Let me take you out on a proper date.”
“One condition.”
“Anything.”
“Has to be somewhere warm.”
You shared a laugh.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he smirked.
Want to read more of my writing? Check out my ongoing Stucky x Reader series.
2K notes · View notes
literaryavenger · 2 months
Text
Thoughtful
Summary: You find something of Bucky's.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader
Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Just a whole lot of fluff.
Word Count: 1.1K
A/N: This is a dream I had and I couldn't get it out of my head so I decided to write it down. Hope somebody enjoys it!
Masterlist
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“Good morning.” you say casually to Bucky sitting at the island as you enter the kitchen.
He merely nods back to acknowledge your presence while sipping his coffee. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t like you, he’s just not a morning person. But the whole team is used to his morning grumpiness.
Also, you and the brunette supersoldier aren’t particularly close, so you don’t really expect bells and whistles when he sees you.
You pour some coffee for yourself and then sit on the kitchen island in front of Bucky. A light jingle coming from under your shirt gets Bucky’s attention and he raises an eyebrow at you.
“What was that?” He asks you, his curiosity getting the better of him.
You frown at his question before following his eyeline and seeing him looking at your chest. But he’s not staring at your boobs through your admittedly thin tank top, he’s looking under them where he can see something resting between the fabric and your skin.
You’re honestly confused at what that is for a moment before you remember and your eyes widen a little as your cheeks start reddening in embarrassment.
Bucky’s confused at your reaction as he watches you take the chain around your neck to bring out the set of dog tags around your neck and Bucky frowns even more.
“I didn’t know you were in the military…” He comments while looking at the tags and then at you, unclear as to why you’d be embarrassed about it.
“I wasn’t…” You say quietly while glancing down at the tags. “They’re kinda… yours.”
Bucky’s even more dumbfounded by your answer. But, after letting your words sink in and deciding he indeed heard you correctly, he couldn’t help the grin that started to grow on his face, much to your surprise.
You thought maybe he’d be mad, although it’s not like you stole them, you simply found them. But still, you were worried what he might think about you wearing them.
“Oh good, I thought I lost them!” He says relieved. “I looked for them everywhere.”
“Well, can I have them back now?” He asks you after a moment of silence and you realize you haven’t even taken them off yet this whole time.
So you quickly do, leaning over the kitchen island and setting them down carefully on his outstretched hand. You watch him put them on, your eyes lingering on the metal on his chest a minute longer than necessary before going back up to his. 
“And why exactly are you wearing my dog tags?” He asks, and right now you wish he’d get mad at you instead. Anything is better than the amusement that’s all over his face at watching you squirm in your seat.
“I found them at the gym… But it’s not like I was planning to keep them.” You quickly justify yourself, your tone entirely too defensive even to your own ears as you blush more. “But you had just left for your mission with Steve and I thought I would just keep them safe until you came back, so I put them on… But I had every intention to give them back, I swear!”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, doll...” He says, his grin turning into a full grown smirk as he points out the obvious. “But I’ve been back for a week, and you were still wearing them.”
“Yeah, I-I guess I got so used to them that I forgot to give them back…” You say quietly, your face turning impossibly red as Bucky seems to be having the time of his life right now.
You groan internally when you see his smirk still going strong at your embarrassment and you decide to cut your losses and not give him more fuel to add to the fire before 9am.
You get up and put your empty cup in the sink. As you turn around you’re startled to find the Sergeant much closer to you than he was before, the kitchen island no longer between you. He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything or even pull away before he’s talking.
“On the other hand…” He takes his dog tags off and reaches out to put them around your neck, making sure to keep his eyes on the metal and not glance at your boobs no matter how much he wants to. “Maybe you could hold onto them for me.”
He looks at the tags on your chest then up to your face before he pulls away completely with a quiet “Beautiful.” and takes a step back, leaving you a flustered mess.
After a minute you remember how to breathe and you glance down at the tags. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. We wouldn’t want me to lose them again now, would we?” He says with a smile, reaching out to lift your chin gently and making you look at him. “But you’ll keep them safe for me, right doll?”
You nod almost without thinking about it, his eyes putting you in a trance. You’re sure you’d agree to anything right about now, all you can really hear is your own heart pounding anyway.
“Plus, now I can do this…” He lets go of your chin and wraps his hand around the chain of the dog tags. 
He uses his hold on them to pull you closer and your heart skips a beat as he leaves you a soft kiss on your lips. You barely realize what’s happening before he’s pulling away again and you merely look at him with your mouth agape in shock.
Before you can say anything, though, you hear snickers from the door of the kitchen and you both turn towards it just to see the whole team there. All of them have smirks, grins and smiles, everyone delighted at the situation as your face starts getting redder than Tony’s Iron-man suit.
You look back at Bucky and the cheeky bastard is also smirking, clearly much more amused than you at being caught like this.
“Okay, well,” You say while clearing your throat awkwardly and stepping away from Bucky to escape from this situation altogether. “I’m gonna go research the tallest building in New York so I can throw myself off of it.”
Your deadpan reaction leaves everyone laughing as they get away from the door so you can pass.
“Oh, come on, sweetheart, it wasn’t that bad!” Tony yells after you between laughs, obviously sarcastic and you roll your eyes.
“Bite me, Stark!” you yell back, not even tempted to look back as you try to hide a smile of your own while hearing the team’s amusement in the kitchen.
You’re still a little in shock that Bucky kissed you but, once the embarrassment at the team having witnessed it washes away, you can’t wait to follow up on this with Sergeant Grumpy.
Part 2
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They have a crush on you (HC's) - Team 141 + König
Requested by Anon
Simon "Ghost" Riley
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*Honestly I could write an essay on this complicated man, he's such an interesting character - but I've summed up some HC's below*
This guy is so hard to read, but at the same time he's not.
At first glance, he's a hardened man who keeps his cards close to his chest and never lets his guard down around anyone. And that's true.
Given everything he's been through in life, that amount of trauma is bound to have a long-term effect on every aspect of his life - not to mention the fact that he's probably learned to repress all of that shit for most of his life.
So I reckon that even if he did have romantic feelings towards you, it would take him a long, long time for him to even process what he's feeling - he's not stupid by any manner of means, more so he doesn't know what to do with this newfound information.
He would probably try and be mean to you - not that he was ever truly sweet on you in the first place, he couldn't let people know he had a soft spot; a weakness.
If you were part of 141, he would probably try to completely ignore you - unless he physically had to speak to you, like if you were on a mission together ((ngl I think Price probably would put the pieces together and would try to push you both together by sending you off on the same mission - fulfilling his Dad Captainly duties)).
You'd probably have known Ghost for a while before he starts to open up to you - it's superficial stuff, like maybe when his birthday is or his favourite food, little details that didn't really give any crucial information away, but you knew better than to pry as it would probably just make him shut himself away more.
He'd probably be protective of you - like if the team were out at a pub after a mission gone well, and there was a creepy guy bothering you, he would loom over you to scare the guy shitless with piercing, cold eyes.
We all know that as soon as Soap figures out that Ghost has a crush, he's going to absolutely want to take the piss out of him for it...he just needs to pick his words carefully, since he chooses life :))
It's hard to tell when or if he would actually confess his feelings to you - I can see it happening in one of two ways:
1 - You almost died on a mission, and he deeply regretted not telling you before when he thought you weren't going to make it back to base in time; he visited you every day while you were in hospital, and ended up bluntly just coming right out with how he felt because he needed you to know.
2 - Soap tells you before he can. With this scenario, I don't see Ghost blowing up in a fit of rage - it would be the silent death stare with the promise of an arse-kicking in the training room, maybe even making the Sergeant clean the bathrooms with a toothbrush for a few months for good measure. Ghost probably wouldn't even deny it, and would wait for you to come to him... and whatever happens next is a mystery ;))
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
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*Ahh my fellow Scot - just to preface, Scottish slang and dialects vary across the country and I'm not 100% sure where Soap is originally from, so I'm just going to improvise and use local slang from where I'm from ~*
My guy wears his heart on his sleeve - he's naturally very flirty with you from the get-go, so it wasn't hard to figure out that he fancied you.
"Hello, Darlin', if yer wantin' a tour of the base, don't be feert* to gie me a shout ;D" [feert = afraid] [gie me a shout = ask me; gie = give].
With his flirty nature, it was difficult to discern if he was actually being serious about liking you, or if he was just flirty with everyone.
He'd probably realise that he was going about things completely wrong, and would make normal, friendly conversation to get to know you - he just wants to prove that he's a good guy and not a raging hornball :(
The longer time goes on, he starts to tell you more about his life outside of the SAS - he comes from a big family, he's the youngest sibling, his favourite colour, etc.
I can absolutely see his chest puff up a bit with pride when you compliment his skills - he disposes bombs and risks his life all the time, its his job and he doesn't expect praise other than a curt "good work" from his superiors; but from you, the tips of his ears are turning red, and a smile is practically splitting his face ~
Definitely doesn't use the excuse of training to get some time alone with you - not in a creepy way, he just likes spending one-on-one time with you.
If he really trusts you, he asks you to help trim his hair - he did do his mohawk mostly by himself but trying to do the back of his head on his own was an actual nightmare.
Likes watching the look of concentration on your face as you make sure that his hair is even - winks at you when you catch him staring~
(Y/N): There we go - a job well-done, if I do say so myself.
Johnny: *just admiring your smiling face, smitten*
Would probably ask you out then and there, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
Certified Best Boy™.
Captain John Price
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This guy doesn't fuck around - he's older, mature, and knows what he feels, and straight up tells you.
He'd call you into his office for a "chat" - queue you absolutely shitting yourself, being called for a chat with your superior in any circumstance automatically has you going through everything you've ever done prior to this moment to see what he could be mad about...
If you were a Private or any rank beneath him, he probably might hesitate to tell you a bit; HR really wouldn't like it but then again they wouldn't need to know... ;))
If you were a medic, nurse, doctor or civilian, he wouldn't hesitate to tell you.
The Team wouldn't know he even had a crush on you - even if you were on base, as a soldier or medic, they wouldn't have a clue.
The only time they grew suspicious was after they had all been to the pub and after a few too many drinks, one of the new recruits started talking about you and how he thought you were fit; Price's eye twitched slightly, eyeing the recruit with a poker face but with a slightly flash of anger in his eyes, cigar between his teeth.
"Bit inappropriate to speak of a comrade like that, Private, don't you think?" The Private sheepishly let out an apology.
Gaz and Soap gave each other a knowing side-eye; Soap looked to Ghost, who stared back blankly - he'd figured out that the Captain liked you ages ago, he was just waiting on everyone else catching up.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
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I see him as another guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, so to speak.
I think he's the silent type though - while Johnny will flirt with you openly, regardless of where he is or who he's around, I think Kyle would be more discrete about it.
At first, it would be the little things like making you your favourite tea when he's making his own cup - sometimes he'll just make you your own, delivering it to you with a little smile.
He even offers to spar with you during training - he wouldn't go easy on you but he would be missing the usual fire that he has when training with other members of the team, he doesn't want to hurt you :((
As he gets more comfortable with you, and you with him, he absolutely loves to wind you up.
I think he'd be a genuinely funny guy, so be prepared to laugh until your sides hurt.
He'd probably express his feelings for you in a cheesy but still down-right cute way; probably shows up at your door with flowers and asks you out on a date.
((Proud Dad™ Price is just around the corner))
König
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Another certified Best Boy™.
Honestly, he probably didn't speak to you at all for the longest time - not because he was intentionally trying to be rude but because if he feels like he has nothing good to say, then he just won't speak at all.
His social anxiety probably fluctuates day-to-day; one day he feels alright, can make small talk with others on base and do whatever he needs to do. But then the next day, he won't leave his room unless he has to, and when he does he's just this hulking mass of poorly concealed anxiety.
I think his anxiety would probably accidentally be projected outwards and would make him appear more intimidating, especially when all people can see are his eyes underneath his hood. Poor baby :(
He definitely knew that he had a crush on you - he's anxious in social settings, crowds, and he knows what that feels like - but with you? He gets full-on butterflies and he's scared to speak in case he says something embarrassing.
You'd most likely have to make conversation first, keeping it casual as to not scare him off - ironic, since the man is over 6ft and is built like a brick shithouse.
It would take time but he'd slowly open up bit by bit.
The first time you saw him out in the field - completely different ballgame entirely.
Who is this guy and what has he done with Konig??
He probably confesses his feelings on the way back from a mission, still high on adrenaline and confidence.
Oh he absolutely full-on panics when the adrenaline wears off and the penny finally drops...but he meant what he said. He really likes you, Maus.
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Hii sweetie, how are you? Are requests open rn? I'm soooo sorry if they arent and i'm botherig you, but can i make a sugestion please? How would batboys (including bruce if possible) would "react" to missing you while on a mission? And maybe in the end the reenconter? Just an idea❤️
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I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to write this and I hope that it’s everything you want and more.
Dick; sits and sulks as he stares at his phone.
I’m joking…or am I?
He’d be mentally counting away the hours before he came back home to you once more. He tries to act professional and keep a level head seeing as how leaders aren’t meant to have room for errors, he’s learnt that the hard way many times. But he can’t help but yearn to be in your arms and fall into the deepest sleep ever knowing that you were close by and above all safe.
He would use this as motivation to get through the long, long night of patrol in hopes of making time take pity on him and go just that little bit faster, just for his selfish convenience. He just so desperately wants to see you and Hayley cuddled up together on your shared bed, or watching a movie together if you were still awake this late at night. You held a piece of his heart without even knowing it.
So when he feels the patrol come to an end, he’s gleefully beating the piss out of the goons he’s come across with a smile across his face. It’s borderline terrifying image that will forever remain burnt into the deepest parts of his teammates memory for a good long while.
The minute Dick came home and you so happened to be waiting for him, he was already scooping you into his arms and holding you close to his chest as he buried his head into your neck.
‘I missed you.’ He murmurs.
‘I’m pretty sure that’s my line you’ve just stolen.’ You joked as you ran your hand through his dark hair, relived in seeing him home safe and unharmed.
‘Well it’s my line now because I really did miss you,’ Dick said, tightening his hold on you, ‘you we’re all I thought about tonight and how much I wanted to come home and be where I want to be most, in your arms.’ He adds tired and you couldn’t help but coo softly at him.
‘Aww Dickie bird.’ You began. ‘You sound about ready for some much needed sleep.’
Dick lets out a deep sigh as he practically slumps against you. ‘That sounds like a good idea. Is Hayley in bed?’
‘Yes.’ You answered, rubbing his back soothingly.
‘Her bed or ours?’ Dick asks.
‘Do you even need to ask?’ You reply with a chuckle and from that alone did Dick get his answer.
Jason; he’s a little impatient with having to wait to come back home to you, so much so that it tends to end with him brutalising his adversaries more then usual.
Whoops.
He doesn’t apologise at all.
He was so use to coming home to a empty apartment after patrol that long nights like these never use to bother Jason, as it often meant he had something else to do other then stare up at his ceiling, waiting for sleep to catch up to him. Now that he had you however, all Jason wants to do was come home as soon as possible just to catch a glimpse of your sleeping figure on his -now your- bed.
He’s grown addicted to being at your side no matter what that being apart from you for prolonged periods of time made Jason feel hollow, as though he was missing a vital part of himself somewhere and that vital part was you.
So when he gets home he’s already dropped his helmet off somewhere and kneeling before you as you held his face in your hands and groaning as he presses his face further into your hands.
‘I’ve missed you so much tonight chipmunk.’ He admits.
‘I’ve missed you too jay bird.’ You replied, pressing a kiss to his nose, squealing when he stole a quick peck from your lips as you smacked his bicep shortly after. ‘Someone’s feeling particularly loving tonight.’ You add.
Jason groans as he looks up at you with his pretty, pretty eyes that never fail to take your breath away. The mere image alone of this six foot something man kneeling before you was enough to make you feel like the most powerful being in existence. ‘Is it blasphemy for a man to show his partner how much he’s missed them now?’ He asks and you couldn’t help but laugh as you pressed another kiss to his nose, pulling away enough to see him smile dopily at your kiss.
‘No, but it would be great to be warmed ahead of time before you try to steal another kiss.’ You said and Jason smirks. ‘So you’re telling me there is going to be a next time?’ He says teasingly.
‘Don’t let it go to your head hotshot.’ You reply, grabbing one of his hands and pulling him towards the bedroom.
‘I think I already have sweetheart.’ Jason says with a smile, happy to be home.
Bruce: keeps tabs on you during patrol whilst also remaining vigilant and dedicated to the task at hand.
Bruce was a master at multitasking.
He would always make sure you were safe and decried whenever he got a couple minutes to breathe on his own. He even has a special alert made for you in the instance where you were in danger walking home.
He even finds himself looking at shops you’ve told him about going to, but never doing so due to scheduling conflicts and making a mental note to take you there as a treat to spoil you rotten.
Bruce had more experience in neglecting his own wants and needs for the betterment of Gotham and everyone living in it. So while he may miss you dearly, he knew that his dedication to bettering Gotham’s crime rate one villain, underground drug syndicate, crime lord at a time outweighed that greatly.
So the moment he comes home to you he smiles softly as he allows you to remove the cowl from his head, gently place it down elsewhere, before moving on to wiping the black makeup clean from his eyes.
Bruce knows he could easily done it himself but much rather prefers it if you were the one to do it instead, as it often allows him to have a moment alone with you. No interruptions nor distractions could make him break his gaze away from yours.
‘You’re doing Gotham a whole lot of good Bruce.’ You tell him as you finished wiping off the last of his eye makeup that he puts on under the cowl. ‘ Not many people would be willing to try to keep a dying city alive. Im so proud of you for doing the unthinkable.’ You add as you press a kiss to his cheek.
‘Someone’s got to shoulder the responsibility of this town and I’m more than willing to shoulder that responsibility everyone else who can’t.’ Bruce replies as he takes your hands in his own, kissing the backs of them as his thumbs caressed each of your knuckles. ‘But coming home to you reminds me I’m not alone in this endeavour and I don’t know how to thank you enough for standing by me.’
You smile. ‘You don’t need to thank me at all, just take care of yourself alright? We don’t want the Dark Knight running on fumes now when he’s just getting started.’
Damian: naturally goes by his father’s example and remains focused on the task at hand.
He was trained for long nights like these but you’ve become somewhat of a problem during them.
Damian had often found himself sat on a rooftop somewhere, looking down at two people enjoying the other’s company, and immeditly starts to imagine that it was him and you instead.
He hates how easily his mind drifted towards you during patrol with his father or his other siblings but he just can’t help it but crave for your presence. It makes him feel weak and vulnerable but ironically he doesn’t hate it as much as he probably should’ve. He’s even found himself wanting to count stars with you at one point during patrol until he got him act together to take down a few goons.
He doesn’t admit this to anyone as he’s already felt embarrassed enough that he didn’t needed to be embarrassed even further by the miscreants he’s made to called his family. For he knew they’d never let him live it down for being so caught up on you, they’d called him everything their small minds can come up with for the sake of teasing their younger brother.
So when he comes back to you, he doesn’t say anything other than hugging you uncharacteristically tight against his chest.
‘Someone’s missed me.’ You joked but when Damian didn’t say anything but tighten his grip on you and huff did you change your tune. ‘Oh you did. If it’s any consolation I missed you too.’ You add as you both stayed there in each others arms.
‘Just…hold me will you…please.’ He said softly as he sunk further into your embraced and he closed his eyes, secretly happy to be back home with you.
‘I’m fine with that.’ You replied as you concede to his wishes, just happy to see him home in one piece.
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Wanna Buy You A Drink
(Bob Floyd x Reader)
Summary: It's been five months since Bob's seen his wife, and aside from Natasha he had yet to mention her to his team. He calls it privacy, she jokes it's internalised possessiveness. But tonight, with Penny's help at the Hard Deck, more than one person is in for a surprise. After all, who doesn't love a good innuendo?
A/N- Hi y'all! No TWs I think, a good few innuendos and one joke about making babies but nothing actually happens. I've been trying to finish this one for a while and am very happy with how it turned out! P.S incase y'all didn't know the Thunderbirds are the US Air Force's professional flight team that does really amazing tricks and skills and the Blue Angels are the ones for the US Navy! Both groups are so amazing to see in person and I just wanted to make a little Navy Vs. Air Force rivalry joke about them!😊 Enjoy❤️
WC- 3.8k
Main Masterlist
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He didn't know you were coming.... or so soon at least.
The last time you had spoken to your husband was a few days ago while trying to find a flight to San Diego for next month. The two of you had texted of course, and you had even gotten a few awkwardly taken selfies of the man with the sunset behind him. Neither you nor your husband enjoyed having your photo taken, so seeing him take time to step out of his usual comfort zone was always touching. Besides, you would never tell him (nor would he tell you), but there was a growing album in your phone of sneakily taken photos, though blanket holes or around house walls when the other wasn't looking. These little albums you each had "hidden" helped the burden of the distance seem less harsh, especially in the times when Bob's job kept him farther way than usual.
Despite the top secret mission he had been sent on being completed, your husband was still assigned to say in the city for an undetermined amount of time. Evidently the higher ups decided they liked how well the crew had flown and wanted to keep them together. Tired of being alone and wanting to have a little fun in the Sunny City, you decided to make an early appearance. Luckily, you had already managed to find a job in the city that was just a different branch of where you worked before. They were also kind enough to give you a two weeks leave of your own to make the move and see your husband. Your husband knew you would to join at some point, only he thought you wouldn't be getting in until late next month. So he would be very surprised in a few hours when he found you at one of the navy's top aviator hangouts that night.
It was a bar called the Hard Deck. You remembered your husband mentioning it a few times through your communications, as where him and his fellow officers liked to go after a long day. A quick google search rendered a fruitful find, and ten minutes after getting your rental car, you were on your way. It barely 5:30 by the time your reached the bar, Aviators and Civilians alike had just begun to pour through the bar doors. But by 6:00 you were sure the place would be packed. So you quickly searched for a seat, always rubbing your right thumb over your left wrist to calm your nerves. 
In the centre of the building, a beautiful older beautiful woman moved around the main bar serving drinks with ease. 'Penny' you though to yourself, remembering Bob mentioning her a few times when the bar came up. Apparently in addition to running the bar she also had close connections to the the Top Gun program herself, namely with a certain Captain who helped lead the last Mission. You smiled to yourself as you saw the sign by the bar serving a warning to those who would disrespect women or the navy. Maybe this woman could help you with your fun. When it became your turn to order you smiled at Penny...
"Hi! I was actually hoping I could send a drink to someone else if that would be alright?"
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Bob was tired. There was no particular reason why he was tired today, he just was. Training had gone smoothly and Hangman hadn't been too much of an pain either. All and All, today had actually been one of the least stressful days since he first arrived nearly five months ago. But for some reason Bob just felt off today, he chalked it up to having not spoken to you in a few days. Speaking to you always made him feel better, even when it was only for a few minutes. And having not seen you in person for five months made him long for something from you even more.
But these last few days had been busy, and then earlier today he had tried calling, but it hadn't gone through. This didn't worry him too much as he knew you occasionally turned your phone off during days when you really needed to focus on work. Though it was unusual for you to be working so late, seeing as your time zone was a few hours ahead of his and he called at 4:30 his time. Since the call didn't go though he decide that the "secret" photo album he had of you would have to suffice for now. Neither of you liked having your photo taken, but quick images taken half under the counter and while one slept always made the other smile.
He had been so busy looking at photos he almost didn't notice the group's nightly arrival to the Hard Deck until Phoenix nudged him. Giving him that half secret smile showing she knew what he was looking at. While the rest of the group (and even Maverick to a degree) thought Bob was incapable of talking to a woman without stuttering, Tasha knew otherwise. Bob hadn't even tried to hide it when she had asked why he seemed so fond of rubbing his right thumb over his sleeved left wrist night the group met. She had done it in private, of course, and only wondered if it was a nervous habit of her new WSO. And it was a habit....only not Bob's.
It was something you had always done even before you got married, a comforting repetitive habit that both you and your husband shared. But it also held a deeper meaning as it held the symbol your love. 
When the two of you first decided to get married a few years ago you hadn't gotten rings, or at least ones you'd wear on a daily basis. Both your jobs often required plenty of hands on work, and you had both been worried about losing the rings during the day. So instead, a cheaper pair of matching rings was bought and a new tradition was made. Each of you carried the other's ring in your wallet. That way, even when far apart you could have a piece of the other with you. And when the two of you met up face to face again you'd once more exchange rings. 
But even that wasn't all.
 The pair of you had wanted something more so you had decided to get matching tattoos. They were small and identical and despite almost breaking Bob's hand holding it while getting yours (from fear of needles) the small design was now one of your greatest comforts. On the inside of each of y'all's left wrist were two small stick figures holding hands on a paper airplane. At first glance it may have seems silly to any stranger passing by. But to you and Bob it was everything. 
Bob had been the one to draw stick "You" and you had drawn stick "Bob" with his little glasses. You had also drawn the paper airplane as stickmen were the extent of Bob's artistic skills. Besides, the paper plane you believed would be funny at the time. A memorial of how you two had first met in high school, when your paper plane had accidentally collided with his face instead of your friend's desk during class one day. You hadn't even known he wanted to be a pilot until months later, but when you did learn he was quick to comment how one day he'd be more than happy to take you up in a plane, as long as your weren't the one flying it again (he didn't think his face could take it). Years later you still found it funny and Bob would sometimes catch you laughing to yourself tracing the black lines on his wrist while lying in bed. A moment of peace before you two would have been parted again. Bob didn't regret what he did for a job, and neither did you, but that didn't stop you two from wishing to be together more. 
Again Tasha nudged him, breaking Bob out of his reverie before the pair headed into the crowded bar. It was just after 6:15 and already packed. Bob knew he'd rather head home and try calling you again, but he had also promised Fanboy one more pool rematch, since Hangman had busted into their last one. Luckily, even though the bar itself was crowded, the pool tables were open.
A few minutes into the game, Hangman and Coyote went to order a round of drinks and came back talking. Apparently there was some "Gorgeous Doll" (Jake's words) sitting at the bar and the pair of aviators were arguing over who'd get the chance to "woo" her first. 
Bob wasn't paying too much attention to their conversation or very interested in finding out more about this mystery woman. As far was he was concerned not even Dolly Parton could top your beauty and Bob would openly admit that he'd had a minor(ish) crush on the country singer since he was a kid. It had even become a running joke between your families, the battle for Bob's heart between you and Dolly. 
When he'd gotten his wisdom teeth out at 17, his mother told him someone had come to see him. Poor Bob about cried upon realising it was you instead of Mrs. Parton, his "Angel Voiced Beloved". Oh how you wish his brother still had that video tape, but unfortunately it had "mysteriously vanished" after Bob had overheard his sisters mention trying to get it for the wedding video. But more fortunately, the drugs wore off and soo enough he'd come back to his senses, and since that one night you'd been the only one for him. And luckily for him, he'd been the only one for you. 
So even if he was slightly curious to see which of his friends would attempt their flirtations, or which ones would fail, for now he didn't put too much thought into it. The quicker he won the game the quicker he could try calling you again. 
Soon enough Hangman was called back over to the bar to retrieve the group's drinks and they once again settled in to continue the game. Bob was once again winning, and Javy sat aside beginning to wish he hadn't placed such a bet tonight while Tasha and Callie were already making plans in their heads for what to do with their prize money. The only ball Bob had left to hit was the eight ball, and thanks to a lucky slip on Fanboy's part, it was a shot as perfect as it was easy. 
Javy cursed under his breath while Tasha and Callie high-fived, and Rooster cheered raising his glass up almost dumping his drink on Jake's head. Fanboy hung his head in defeat while Bob just grinned. Bob wasn't a bragging man but he still did like to win...a lot. The Squad may have thought of Bob as the quiet and passive WSO, but they had yet to see how competitive he could be when challenged. They had seen plenty of dog fights in the sky, but nothing compared to the vicious chaos between the Floyd family when it came to the annual gingerbread house competition. Under that sweet smile and those large glasses hid an overly excited man-child basking in his victory. Ok... so maybe it had been a good idea to come tonight. Bob couldn't wait to call his wife and tell her about his achievement. After all she was the one who taught him to play.
A few minutes later the group of aviators had settled down again and a new game started. This time Rooster was up against Maverick himself, which always proved to be a good show, full of sneaky cheating and playful jibes. Bob was sitting by Callie and Tasha taking his share of the winnings. It was only 6:30 now and he knew his night owl of a wife wouldn't be asleep for a few more hours so he decided to watch a few more games between his friends before calling a cab home. 
Hangman and Coyote were still debating over whose turn it was to talk to the new woman at the bar. Evidently, they'd noticed her reoccurring glances towards the squad during the first game and were sure she was interested in one of them two. And to drive their beliefs further, the glances had been accompanied by a playful smirk "directed" to the two men who'd placed themselves behind an oblivious Bob as them game went on. 
It was a few minutes later Penny walk up to the Aviators carrying a drink in her hand and smirk on her face. 
"Someone sent over a drink for one you lot," she said, at once turning the entire groups' attention towards her. After all who didn't like a free drink? Usually the drinks in question were for sent for Tasha or Callie, the only two women in the whole squad, but occasionally one of the other aviators would be the recipient. No one would forget the time Ruben got a drink from a 60 something year old women in a sparkly dress. And it appeared this would be one of those times. 
With a smirk on her face she turned, setting the colorful drink down saying,
"Lieutenant Bob Floyd someone wants you to have sex on the beach."
Aside from quite humming of ice machine and the clatter of Maverick's pool stick it seemed as if all the sound has been sucked out of the Hard Deck. As if Penny's words has been some wicked spell freezing, all the group's inhabitants where stood still. A little ways away from the group, a woman sat with a growing grin on her face as she watched everything unfold. Just as Bob opened his mouth, his face now a red as his wife's lipstick, Penny delivered the final 'blow'. 
"It's double strong too, so I'd say someone really wants you to have it."
Bob looked like a fish. A really cute six foot tall fish with military issued glasses but still a fish. His eyes were wide and his mouth kept opening slightly before closing as if the words in his head were fully composed of silent letters. If one were to look into Bob's head and read his mind they'd be able read the flurry of responses and polite refusals streaming through his brain. It wasn't the first time he'd been sent a drink, but that never stopped him from going speechless when it happened. Now Bob was a married man. A very happily married man, but he still had an awful habit of getting flustered anytime showed interest in him. It was something that Y/N took special pleasure in, and there were times they went out with friends when she'd pretend she didn't know him just so she could relentlessly flirt and turn him red. To be fair he'd also done it to her a few times, but she had a habit of taking any flirting he did as a challenge. And then, while their friends fake gagged and smirked behind their backs, the night would be filled with flirty winks and innuendos until someone gave in and "agreed" to take the other to "their place".....wait a mi....
"I hope you don't mind I took the liberty of getting you a refreshment. Thought you might have deserved it after that wonderful win." 
Bob was grinning like an idiot before he even finished turning his head to the approaching voice. He didn't get out of his seat though as his head fell back to the ceiling with a hand over his face as the last of the embarrassment left him. Turning his head back to the women he smiled again as he began to laugh. He turned his body more towards her and noticed the dress she was wearing. Damn he loved that dress. It was the one she wore when they had gotten engaged. Looking at her lips she appeared to have the same lipstick on too.
"I hate you."
Words said without malice, quite the oppose actually, brought another laugh to Y/N's lips as after months apart she finally got to stand in-front of her husband. Eyes never leaving her husband's, she places a hand over her heart and gave a dramatic gasp.
"Well that is the most heartbreaking news I've ever heard darling. You see I was so impressed with your skills earlier, I was ALL set to propose. See I even got you a ring," and with that Y/N pulled her left hand back from her chest and revealed Bob's ring which had been sitting in her wallet for months now. Well, aside from almost every day when she'd fidget with it in her hands while on the phone with him or just because she missed him. And a little farther up from her palm was a small tattoo of two tiny stick people holding hands on a paper plane. In the back ground, Phoenix let out a small sound of joy of her own as she finally understood what was happening. Quickly she leaned over and explained to Callie, who also started to laugh. The rest of the aviators still stood in shock, not sure what was going on. They only knew that for some reason Bob "Blushes at the word boobies" Floyd was getting the attention of one very pretty women, apparently because he could play pool. 
Bob only stared at her hand for a moment longer before he finally stood from his chair and wrapped the woman in front of him in his arms. Spinning her around once before kissing her cheek he pulled back.
"Well, I guess I'll have to rethink my words then ma'am. In fact, I think I got a ring right here that may fit your style," he replied grinning as he pulled Y/N's ring out of his own pocket and wallet with a practiced ease done many times before. "You'll have to forgive me for not kneeling to do it now, I'll get my ass chewed out if I dirty this uniform," he joked looking down to the woman in his arms smiling back.
"It may not be typical or proper, but I certainly wouldn't want anything to happen to that lovely ass of yours....so I guess I'll accept," Y/N joked back, drawing out a few words for added affect, not really caring about the propriety of it just ecstatic to be with her other half again.
"PROPER?! I haven't seen you in five months and the first think you do is send someone to tell me you really want me to have sex on the beach. How's that's proper for ya! Not even a hello first," Bob laughed. As surprised as he was initially, he really did miss this little game of y'all's. It brought out a cheekier side of him his friends usually didn't see.
"Alrighty then," stepping back and picking up the drink in question with a smirk, Y/N raised it to her husband's eyesight, "Hello, Lieutenant Bob Floyd would you like to have sex on the beach?"
"Well I just don't know if that's something I can answer in public Mrs Floyd," he replied cheekily, still starting at his wife.
"MRS.FLOYD"
That was the collective statement from the remaining aviators as the couple was finally brought out of their own little world. Turing to face the company Bob stood with his arm around Y/N's waist proudly like a child at Christmas.
"Yeah, Mrs. Floyd. Been that way since I became the luckiest man on earth."
"And since I became the luckiest women. But all ah y'all are welcome to call me Y/N. Or you know... Mrs. Baby on Board. Though I guess we haven't gotten to that part yet, but, it has been five months after all."
Tasha followed, closely by Callie, was the first to approach as Rooster's pool stick fell to the table and Maverick started wacking a sputtering Jake on the back, after the latter choked on his drink with the final sentence. 
"Hi, I'm Natasha and this is Callie, callsigns Phoenix and Halo. I'm your husband's ..."
Before Natasha could even finish she was wrapped in a hug by Y/N.
"Ohh I know you!! Bobbie talks about you all the time! You're Black Widow! It's so nice to meet you!!"
"Black Widow," someone asked from the side, while Bob began to chuckle under his breath.
"Ohh right, sorry. I have a hard time with remembering names, so I like to make up helpful nicknames with Bob to remind me of who is who. Like Natasha is Black Widow because of Natasha Romanoff; and Callie is Catwoman because of Callico Cats; and there's also a Rocket Raccoon for whoever's Bradley; and I have a Peter Pan beca...."
"Yep I think they get it darling. No need to divulge all our secrets." Bob interrupted nervously, not quite wanting his team to know all his secrets yet. He'd also NEVER tell them that when you first learned about his job you'd compared him to the Thunderbirds. I mean the audacity of it all! Everyone knew the Blue Angles were superior! Those were some fighting words Bob assured you at the time. Callie and Tasha burst into grins, liking this more and more, while Y/N looked back a her husband with a fake look of innocence in her eyes. Meanwhile Penny, still with the group, wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes as Maverick gaped and Rooster got into a debate with Mickey if he was hotter than Bradley Cooper. Soon the laughter died down and Maverick stepped forward sticking out his hand.
"Well it sounds like you seem very good at giving callsigns of your own. Maybe we'll have to put you in charge of naming the new recruits Y/N. My callsign's Maverick but I'm guessing you know me as Peter Pan."
"Pleasure to meet you Maverick. I might just have to take you up in that offer. Heard a lot about you too. All of you in fact. I'm sorry for interrupting your game earlier, I've been waiting to do that for a long time. Your friend Penny was a brilliant help too." Y/N smiled and shook his hand. He had a welcoming smile that reminded her of her own father. She also sent a smile towards Penny who returned it with her own and took a step closer to Maverick. 
"No problem at all, it always nice to see couple's meeting again. I must admit the drink was a nice touch. Never seen an idea that creative yet." 
Stepping back towards her husband who put his waist around her once again, "Why thank you captain, I do suppose it's nice someone appreciates a good innuendo." Bob gave a small groan, but smiled as he buried his head into his wife's shoulder whispering how he did appreciate it and would show her how much later. Out of the corner of her eye Y/N caught a few more aviators still staring, though they seemed much less confused, now slowly settling in to of their quiet friend being married. "Though I believe there's a few more introduction left as well," She mentioned as she stepped towards the remaining group and shot a mischievous grin towards her husband, asking him a question without words.
"Oh just do it, they're gonna know eventually I guess," Bob laughed and looked at his wife with an equally mischievous look, finally taking a sip of his drink. After all, she'd probably let the names slip one day. This was going to be great. Hearing her next words, Jake choked on his drink again.
"Alrighty then. Which one of y'all boys is Statefarm?"
3K notes · View notes
just-aake · 10 months
Text
Come with Me
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: You are forced to work with Secretary Ross to track down Natasha after she violated the Sokovia Accords and disappeared.
Warnings: slight angst, light fluff, contains scenes from Black Widow movie/deleted scenes
Words: 4120
Natasha and Yelena sit across from each other at a table, nursing their drinks after they escaped from Budapest. They had just decided to work together to stop Dreykov and his Red Room.
Natasha smiles at Yelena as she nods towards the open garage with the car. “I saw where he put the keys.”
Without hesitation, Yelena replies, “Top drawer, green cabinet.”
The two tilt their bottles towards each other in cheers, the clinking sound echoing in the quiet night as they both take a sip.
Yelena sets her bottle down and begins to lightly spin it around on its edge before tilting her head in question.
“So, when are we going to lose your friend?” 
Natasha startles at her question, choking slightly on her drink. Coughing, she recovers her composure before replying.
“What friend?”
Yelena raises her eyebrows and points at Natasha accusingly.
“Really? She’s been following us since we left the city. And you’ve been sneaking glances at her ever since we sat down.”
Natasha scoffs and takes another sip, not commenting further on the accusation.
Yelena squints at Natasha’s nonresponse and attempts a different approach.
“Or we can let her follow us as we take on Dreykov and the other Widows in the Red Room.” 
Natasha frowns at that statement and taps her finger against her bottle in thought. On one hand, she is a little nervous to talk with you after what she did, but the alternative is you following her into a dangerous mission that you didn’t sign up for. She already knows which choice she prefers.
Taking a deep breath, she stands from the table and heads toward your direction. Yelena gives her a smug wave before relaxing back into her chair.
Your back was facing her, but Natasha knew you were keeping an eye on her. She pulls out the empty seat next to you and sits down, giving you a flirty smile, “Is this seat taken?”
You don’t respond to her question. Instead, you take a drink, making sure not to look in her direction.
At your silence, Natasha places her arm on the table and rests her head against her hand as she looks at you. Undeterred by your lack of response, she decides to try again.
“So, what brings someone as pretty as you around here?” 
You let out a soft laugh in disbelief at her words, shaking your head, before turning to face her, deciding to play along. “Work trip. I’m looking for someone.”
“Oh?” Natasha places her hand gently on yours, leaning closer. “Who are you looking for? Maybe I can help.” 
In response, you lean in too, bringing your face close to hers until you are looking right into her eyes. 
“Yeah?” Your words whisper against her lips.
You were so close. Natasha could almost feel the gentle brush of your lips against hers, tempting her. She’s about to close the distance between the two of you instinctively like she’s done many times before. But just when her lips were about to touch yours, you move away. 
Your smile falls from your face as you pull your hand from under hers and cross your arms. You glare at Natasha accusingly. 
“Well, I’m looking for my girlfriend who decided to become a global fugitive overnight and suddenly disappear without any warning.” You give her a pointed look. “And a note that just says ‘I’m sorry’ is not enough.”
Natasha winces at your words and looks away guiltily. Back at her old table, she sees that Yelena is now eating from a small pile of snacks in front of her as she waits. Yelena catches her looking at her and raises a thumb up in encouragement as she continues eating, blissfully unaware of the escalating tension.
Natasha takes a peek back at you. You were still glaring at her, waiting for her response. She attempts to ease the tension in the air. 
“You know, I also added a little heart at the end—.”
“Natasha,” you interrupted, giving her a deadpanned look.
Taking a deep breath, she tries to explain.
“Okay, I didn’t want to force you to come with me. It was my choice. I knew what I was doing and the consequences. You shouldn’t have to leave your life behind because of me.”
You huffed at her explanation, annoyed.
“Except you didn’t give me a choice. Instead, I had to track you all the way to Norway, only to find an empty safe house and a car wreck in the middle of a bridge.” 
Natasha widens her eyes at you, impressed at how close you were to finding her. Though, it’s not that surprising since you were the best tracker in Shield. In fact, you were the one who found her location back when she was still an assassin of the Red Room before she was recruited to Shield.
“So you’re working with Ross to arrest me?” Natasha asked cautiously.
You scoff at the suggestion, shaking your head in disbelief.
“No, this wasn’t my choice either. We ended up crossing paths in Norway, and then he forced me to join his little search team.” 
You let out a huff as you pouted dejectedly, “Stupid Accords.”
Letting out a breath of relief, Natasha smiles fondly at you, happy to hear that you didn’t choose to hunt her down.
You push her shoulder when you notice her smiling at you with the usual love and fondness in her eyes. That look never fails to make your heart flutter.
“Stop that, I’m still mad at you.” 
Your reaction just causes Natasha to smile more. You roll your eyes at her, deciding to return your focus to your drink.
The familiar banter helps to lessen the tension as a peaceful silence washes over the two of you. You felt slightly better after hearing Natasha’s explanation, though you’re still unsure if you were going to forgive her so soon. You are both agents, so you understood what Natasha meant, the pressure and dangers that come with this kind of life. 
Still, you remember the pain you felt when you found her things missing from your room, and more importantly, it hurt that she didn’t believe that you would follow her if only she had asked.
You decided to change the subject, breaking the silence with a question. 
“So, who is she?” you nod towards the stranger at Natasha’s old table.
The blonde girl notices you looking in her direction and gives you a sarcastic wave.
“That’s Yelena. She’s…my little sister.”
You snap your head back to Natasha in surprise, checking to see if she was serious. Her face showed no signs of teasing, just a tired look. 
You take the chance to examine her closely. Right away, you can see the exhaustion in her body. She must have had a rough time these past couple of weeks on the run.
You decide to ask her cautiously, “Does she need any help?”
Natasha looks away, catching your underlying question.
“It’s complicated.”
You close your eyes and let out a deep breath, disappointed at her response. The familiar hurt that you felt when she disappeared resurfaces in your chest.
“In other words, you don’t want me involved in this either.”
“That’s not wha—“ 
You stand up, interrupting her and turning to leave.
“You two should probably go. Ross and his team will be here by the morning.”
“Wait!” Natasha grabs your arm, stopping you, as she stands up too. You don’t resist, but you don’t turn around either. 
She pulls you back towards her, hugging you tightly from behind. Her voice whispers sadly against your ear.
“I made a mistake by disappearing on you suddenly like that. And I really am sorry, but this is different.”
Natasha pushes gently against your shoulder, silently asking you to turn around.
You do and you see an earnest expression on her face, pleading you to believe her. 
She holds your hands in between your bodies, keeping you close. Seeing that you were listening, Natasha continues, “It’s not that I don’t want you with me. This is just something that I need to finish, both for Yelena and for myself.”
As you examine her face, you notice the same determination and fierce spirit in her eyes that made you fall for her in the first place. Even though you don’t like the thought of her doing whatever this is without you, you can see how much it means to her. 
Letting out a resigned sigh, you give her a small bittersweet smile in understanding.
“So, a personal mission with your other family?”
Natasha let out a small chuckle at your attempt at teasing.
“Something like that,” she pauses in thought, your words giving her an idea. “Actually, you can help me with one thing. Do you think you can find someone? His name is Alexei Shostakov.” 
Natasha grimaces before explaining, “He is sort of like my dad.” 
You raise your eyebrow at the information before nodding.
“I’ll see what I can find.” 
As you attempt to turn away once more, Natasha gently tugs your hands, bringing you closer to her. She leans her forehead against yours. 
“About me leaving before…,” she whispered shakily. “You understand that it just wouldn’t be fair to tell you to risk your life and come with me.”
Sighing sadly, you gently remove your hands from hers and place them against her chest, pushing her away slightly. 
“That’s the problem.” You give her a sad smile. “You never asked if I would.”
When you see the pained expression on her face, you caress her cheek softly in comfort before placing a small kiss on the corner of her lips.
Pulling away, you sigh resolutely, “Right now, you have your mission and I have mine. Let’s just focus on what we need to get done first.” 
A small cough from the side pulls both of your attention. Yelena waves a set of keys in her hand, giving you a short nod in greeting.
“Time’s up. We have to go, Natasha.”
You give her a brief nod back, dropping your hands from Natasha and stepping away completely. You gesture to Yelena’s clothes.
“I like your vest,” you say sincerely.
Yelena beams at your comment. 
You look back at Natasha and give her a small smile, “Bye, Natasha.”
Natasha watches sadly as you leave until you disappear from her sight. 
Next to her, Yelena nods approvingly in your direction, “I like her.”
Sighing tiredly, Natasha grabs the keys from Yelena, prompting her to yell out in surprise as she trails after her. 
“Wha—Hey, I’m the one who got that.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
There was a comfortable silence between the sisters as Natasha focused on driving. That is until Yelena couldn’t contain her curiosity anymore. 
“So, that girl…” Yelena trails off, glancing at Natasha cautiously, trying to gauge her reaction to the new topic. 
Natasha hummed in response, indicating for her to continue. 
“She seems cool."
“She is.”
“How long have you known her?”
“A long time.”
Yelena's mouth twists in annoyance at Natasha’s bland responses, giving her no additional information. 
At the sudden silence, Natasha glances at Yelena and finds her staring pointedly out the car window, lips pursed in a pout and arms crossed. 
“What?” She questioned, confused at the sudden silent treatment.
“Nothing.”
“Yelena…” 
Yelena throws her hands up in annoyance at Natasha’s pestering.
“We haven’t seen each other in years. Now, it just feels like you are trying to shut me out again.”
Natasha was taken aback by the sudden accusation, unaware that she was causing her such distress. Feeling bad, she nudges Yelena in her arms to get her attention.
“Okay then, what do you want to know?” 
Yelena squints at her suspiciously. 
Natasha sighs at her behavior, before reassuring her. “I’m serious.”
At her words, Yelena turns her body to face Natasha excitedly. 
“How did you two meet?”
The question instantly causes Natasha to chuckle at the memory. Yelena raises an eyebrow at her expectantly.
“She was on the mission with Clint to eliminate me in Budapest,” Natasha says. “The first time we met…she shot me.”
“Really?” Yelena's eyes widened in shock. 
Natasha nods.
“I found out later that she was the one who was able to track me down.”
Yelena snorts in laughter.
“Not like it’s hard.”
Natasha narrows her eyes, slightly offended.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Yelena raises her eyebrows in challenge.
“The tracker she placed on the car?” 
Natasha rolls her eyes.
“Threw it away before we even started driving.”
“And what about the one she sneaked into your jacket when she kissed you?”
Natasha pauses at the information before reaching into her jacket pocket. Sure enough, her fingers brush against a small circular device. She lets out a small curse under her breath before throwing the tracker out of the window. 
“That’s it. No more questions.”
“Wha-no fair!”
Eventually, they reach the designated clearing to see an old helicopter positioned at the center of the field.
“I said we needed a jet,” Natasha calls out to the person in the aircraft.
Rick steps out of the helicopter at her greeting.
“Yeah, you know what you didn’t give me. Time. Or money. I’m not made of jets.”
“I thought you were supposed to be the best,” Yelena says, kicking at the base of the helicopter.
Rick gives Yelena an offended look, shocked speechless.
“How dare you challenge my professionalism!”
“Aww, he’s sensitive. I see why you keep him around,” Yelena teases.
“Where’s the rest?” Natasha interrupts before Rick can quip back. 
Huffing, Rick grabs a bag from the plane and opens it with a small flourish.
“Voila,” he says half-heartedly as Yelena goes to dig through the supplies.
Stepping away, he turns towards Natasha, pulling out a folded piece of paper.
“And for you.” Rick holds it out for her to take.
“What is it?” Natasha questions, grabbing the paper. 
“A message from your favorite person.” Rick grabs another bag from the helicopter and places it on the ground near her with a huff. “Well, second favorite, I’m first of course.”
Natasha rolls her eyes as she steps away. She opens the note to see the familiar strokes of your handwriting. 
Seventh Circle Prison Stay safe ❤️
Natasha’s heart warmed at the last line. You are always caring even when you are supposed to be upset with her. It is one of the many things that she loves about you. 
Yelena appears behind her, peeking over her shoulder at the note. She pretends to gag at words.
“That’s so cheesy. I’m gonna throw up.” 
Laughing, Natasha pushes her head away from her shoulder, folding your note and tucking it safely into her chest pocket. Natasha gathers her gear and supplies and hops into the helicopter.
“Come on, let’s go.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
They did it. They finally destroyed the Red Room. An aircraft lands near Natasha and Yelena, showing the recently freed Widows waiting for the two of them.
Natasha places the antidote serum into Yelena’s hand.
“He had widows implanted all over the world. You should be the one to tell them that it’s over.”
In response, Yelena takes off her vest before extending it to Natasha, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.
“Here, since you like it so much.”
Natasha takes the vest with a small laugh and puts it on. When she looks up again, Yelena is giving her a pleading look. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”
Natasha nods reassuringly, “You guys go. I need to take care of some things.”
At the sound of sirens echoing in the distance, indicating the incoming company, Yelena hops on the plane before turning around to give Natasha a pointed look. 
“You don’t have to do it alone. We may not be able to come with you, but I know someone who is willing to.”
Natasha just gives her a small smile as she closes the door of the plane. She watches Yelena and the others fly away just as the sounds of sirens grow closer.
Not long after, a dozen armored trucks pull up around her, and she is quickly surrounded by Ross and his team, all with weapons pointed her way. 
When Natasha raises both her hands in surrender, she hears a familiar voice call out in the distance.
“Really, Ross, is all this necessary? She’s not even holding a weapon!”
Natasha smiles amusedly as she watches you shove your way past Ross and march in front of his team’s line of fire toward her. When you finally reach her, your arms wrap around her, pulling her into a tight hug. Natasha’s body groans at the impact, but she still brings her arms around you, welcoming your embrace.
You hold her tight, tucking your head against her neck. She smelled like smoke and fire, reminding you of what you had just witnessed moments before. You pull yourself back abruptly, though her hands are still resting on your waist, keeping you close. You slap her shoulder in anger. 
“What part of falling out of the sky without a parachute is staying safe!”
Natasha smirks at your words before defending herself.
“In my defense, I did have a parachute when I jumped.”
You huffed in annoyance before resting your head on her shoulder. You whispered against her neck, “Did you finish?” 
Natasha looks at the debris of the Red Room around her before placing a gentle kiss on your head.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Hands up, Romanoff!” Ross’ voice calls out from a distance behind you.
You let out an exhausted groan against her causing Natasha to laugh lightly at you. 
“Looks like you still need to finish yours,” she whispers against your ear before giving you one last hug.
Reluctantly, you pull away from her as she returns to her previous position with her hands raised. Stepping back, you notice the new piece of clothing on her. Patting at one of the pockets on the vest, you smirked at her.
“Nice vest.”
“Step away, Agent Y/n!” Ross calls out again.
Rolling your eyes, you finally back yourself away as soldiers take your place to cuff Natasha’s hands. Within minutes, her hands are restrained in front of her body, and she is escorted away. 
You watch with your arms crossed as Natasha is ushered into the back of an armored van. She leans her body back against the inside of the car, relaxed and unbothered by her current situation.
The soldiers move to close the door, and at the last moment, Natasha turns her head to look at you before giving you a teasing wink right as the door closes.
You let out an amused huff at her, shaking your head.
“What are you so happy about?” Ross stops next to you. 
You give him a professional smile.
“Nothing, just glad the mission’s over.” 
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“The Red Room, under our radar for all these years.” Ross looks at Natasha from the front of the van through the rearview mirror. “And you took them down. All on your own.”
Natasha’s face and body are relaxed and calm as Ross confronts her about the wreckage.
She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “Had some help.”
“Who? Agent Y/n?” Ross questioned her. 
Natasha gives him her usual smirk, “I was just being humble. It was all me.”
“You know, it’s strange. Agent Y/n can locate the others quickly enough, but when it’s you, she can’t seem to find a trace.” Ross points out accusingly. 
Natasha subtly brings her hands to the pocket of the vest that you had touched earlier, stealthily pulling out the small lock pick that you had slipped inside. Keeping her hands low, she responds as she begins to pick the cuffs.
“Maybe you’re overworking her. You should try giving her a vacation.”
Ross scoffs in disbelief, focusing on the road in front.
“Caring about someone who arrested you. At least now we can focus our resources and efforts on finding Captain America. Unless you already know where he is?” 
Ross looks up at the mirror when he hears no response. The bench where Natasha was sitting is empty. Shocked, he turned his head behind to see the back doors of the van open, swinging wildly with the movement of the car, and no Black Widow in sight.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Two weeks later, Natasha is meeting with Rick for her new mode of transportation.
“So what’d you get me this time, an upside-down lawnmower?” Natasha teases as she follows him into a field.
Rick looks back at Natasha smugly as he points into the distance.
Natasha stops in shock at the sight, looking between him and the quinjet in disbelief. 
“Go on, say it. I wanna hear it. It would be really good for me to hear it.” 
Natasha nods at him. “I’m impressed.”
Rick nods in acknowledgment.
“Well, of course. Though I did get some extra help with this one.” 
Natasha tilts her head at him in question. The sound of the quinjet’s ramp opening causes her to look back. She sees your familiar figure stroll down the ramp.
“Good luck, mate.”
She feels a pat on her back, pushing her forward, as Rick walks away.
Natasha meets you at the bottom of the ramp. 
“New look?” You reach up and twirl a strand of her new blond hair in your hand. Tilting your head, you give her a soft smile. “I like it.”
Natasha gives you a teasing smirk, “Here to arrest me already?”
Rolling your eyes at her teasing, you slide your hand down her arm and intertwine her hand with yours, pulling her up the ramp into the quinjet.
“You know, you had Ross going mad with your escape. Luckily for you and me, he’s currently preoccupied with the wreckage of the Red Room to send out another manhunt for you.”
“That’s some good news at least,” Natasha says in relief.
You bring her to the control panel. Dropping her hand, you grab a tablet and punch in some codes before turning it to her.
Natasha examines the screen which shows a bunch of different coordinates and a blinking marker. She zooms in on the map curiously.
“What’s this?” 
“I found Steve’s current safe house location. You should probably pick him up first before you head to the Raft for the others.”
Natasha’s head shoots up to look at you, surprised. 
You smile at her expression knowingly. 
“You have a kind heart, Natasha. You are always going to save and protect your family. Both of your family.” You wrap your arms around her in a tight hug, tucking her head against her neck.
“Just promise me you’ll be safe.”
Natasha presses a kiss on your head in promise. “I will.”
You pull yourself back from her embrace, though she still has her arms around you. She searches your eyes nervously.
“Are you leaving?”
You give her a hopeful smile.
“That depends on you.” 
Natasha opens her mouth, but no words come out. A silence falls between the two of you.
Feeling disappointed, you press a soft kiss on her cheek before moving away from her arms. You begin to head towards the exit. Right before you leave, you turn your head over your shoulder to look at her one last time. “Good luck, Natasha.” 
Natasha watches sadly as you go, but then Yelena’s words run through her head, encouraging her. Determined, she chases after you and catches your arm, turning you back around to her.
“Nat–?”
She interrupts you before she loses her nerves.
“This mission is dangerous. I have no idea what’s going to happen. Even if we do succeed, we will be constantly on the run. You won’t be able to go back to the life you had before.”
She stresses the severity of the situation, trying to make you understand what you would be risking. 
Unfazed by her words, you just raise your eyebrows and smile at her expectantly. 
Shaking her head in disbelief, Natasha can’t stop the small smile that appears on her face at your calm expression.
“Knowing all that,” Natasha pauses as she searches your eyes before releasing a nervous breath, “would you still want to come with me?”
Smiling brightly, you grab her vest, pulling her in close. Your lips brush over hers lightly.
“That took you long enough to ask.” You close the small distance, bringing her in for a deep kiss. Her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer.
Natasha was the one who pulled away first, giving you a smirk, “That wasn’t an answer.” 
Wrapping your arms around her neck, you give her a determined but loving gaze, making sure she sees how serious you are.
“I would follow you anywhere.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
a/n: Thank you for reading and for all the nice comments, reblogs, and likes on my previous post. That was really unexpected, but I'm glad that you all enjoyed it.
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sexydoffyman · 4 months
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Hi, I wanted to ask if you could do a male reader x cod where (Maybe Rudy, Price or Krüeger) find out reader is a virgin after they've been secretly pining for him for months but his been oblivious to their flirting
OBLIVIOUS
navigation
genre: smut
characters: John Price
A/N: Sorry for not posting for such a long time.
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He was obsessed with you even before he found out. Your virginity was just a bonus point. He wanted to be the one. The one who you'd trust enough to take your virginity.
Some people would say you were too young for him. But that was exactly what he liked about you. You were always so energetic. You fuelled his tired life. Army was more of a routine for him than you. It was just another day for him. But you were always so fired up for a new mission.
He found it beautiful.
He wanted to be your guide. He had a lot more experience than you did. He wanted to show you how a real man is supposed to treat you since you were younger than him. He was flirting with you, mostly using physical touch. Still, he was being a gentleman about it.
You always thought of it as him trying to support you or be friendly. Him patting your back a little too low after a successful mission was not just a coincidence. He liked it when you rested your body against his while at the bar.
Not even mentioning you getting drunk was a great source of entertainment to him. You stayed in his office, not letting him get lonely when filling out the paperwork. (A/N: I had to resist making reader betray Price so hard.)
He knew he couldn't get more sexual since you never flirted back. He was very careful not to scare you or make you uncomfortable. He didn't want to lose you.
The others saw it very well. A slight hint from Soap was all it took to make you realize that he was, in fact, flirting with you. And god, you were bold. Making jokes left and right. You got more touchy eventually. Same with you getting drunk was an entertainment for him seeing him do "old people stuff" was your entertainment.
On cold nights, he held you close. He always chuckled at your confidence.
You sat next to him on a couch. He was looking over at some paperwork, and you were there to keep him company. He was distracted by his paperwork. On the other side, you were fully focused on his face, his movements. You eventually zoned out, which he has been waiting for.
He put his palm on your thigh, catching you off guard. You always thought how he'd act if he wanted to seduce you. You were dead wrong. Instead of being slow and patient, he was firm and passionate.
He pulled you closer to him. You were startled by his sudden act. He found it amusing how you were so confident just a second ago. He pulled your legs up on the couch and put them around his waist. You finally calmed down and even found his approach exciting.
He pushed you down onto the couch, using his body weight to pin you down. He slowly pulled your pants down. "I've longed to do this for such a long time." He whispered about all the things he was thinking of doing back then while performing all the unholy acts on you.
You looked so lovely when he pushed his length inside. You felt so tight on him. He grabbed your dick and toyed with it while ruthlessly fucking you into a mess.
It's your first time, after all. You won't be able to just stand up and go.
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bliss-in-the-void · 8 months
Text
My actual canonical interpretation of SatoSugu?
I believe they were the bestest of friends, inseparable soul mates who were mutually in love with each other, but never confessed the depth of their feelings, never discussed their relationship, and never actually made anything out of it.
I believe that Suguru had a massive crush on Satoru throughout their high school years. Satoru was more dense on the other hand and did love Suguru but didn’t know how to place his feelings exactly. Suguru was always by his side and that was enough, he felt secure, so why look into it deeper?
After the trauma from the Star Plasma Vessel mission, Suguru was heartbroken that Satoru left him alone a lot. He missed Satoru and spiraled, self-isolated, started becoming obsessed with his own self-talk about ‘monkeys’ and ‘creating a new world with sorcerers only’. He and Satoru both became self-absorbed. Suguru lost that crush and admiration he had for Satoru even though he still loved him. He wanted his own goals more. So he left.
The second he left, I bet that’s when Satoru realized what Suguru meant to him. That’s probably one of the reasons that Satoru is stuck in the past, because he finally placed his feelings for Suguru, realized he was in love with him, and kept replaying those moments they had together, realizing he never noticed Suguru sending signals, mad at himself for never noticing. He regretted it so badly that he just couldn’t stop living in the past with Suguru. If he’d just paid attention, if he noticed Suguru’s signals, his spiraling, maybe he could have stopped it.
That moment where Suguru returns to the high school to declare war only to leave again, when Satoru watches and watches, (according to the JJK 0 Light Novel) his “eyes kept following the shape of Geto’s soul”. He couldn’t look away. He was filled with so much regret. His entire creed is to raise strong sorcerers together so that no one has to be alone the way Suguru and he ended up.
And when the time came for him to kill Suguru, because last words are so important to him, he finally told Suguru what he should have told him when they were high schoolers. “I love you.”
Suguru, who’d long buried those feelings, probably realized that the things he’d told himself about how Satoru viewed him were wrong. This whole time, Satoru really did love and trust him still. That’s why he smiled. He was loved in return.
“You should at least curse me a little at the end.”
He wishes Satoru would have hated him because now he’s filled with regret. If only they’d had talked sooner, none of this would have happened. Suguru had always placed emphasis on ‘found family’. We see this when he calls Kuroi “Riko’s family” and when he adopts Mimiko and Nanako, as well as the rest of the sorcerers/curse users he rounds up for the Night Parade of 1,000 Demons. With that said, I know for a fact that when they were in high school, he saw Satoru as his family. He saw him as home, as safety, as love.
Really, the only time that he and Satoru aren’t putting on some sort of act is when they’re alone together. It’s strange to see the two of them so serious, especially Satoru, who deflects with humor like his life depends on it. But it’s fitting. They’re just comfortable around each other, there’s no need for masks. They never even seriously raised their hands against each other, nor fatally hurt each other’s family/students.
Now, fast-forward to a year later in Shibuya, when Kenjaku uses the love Satoru and Suguru have for each other against Satoru. How does he know seeing Suguru would have such a drastic effect on Satoru that it would immobilize him completely? Did he watch from afar? Did he keep tabs on them? Or did he see Suguru’s memories somehow? Could he feel how Suguru felt when around Satoru? I’d like to think it was both—Kenjaku kept tabs on them before Suguru died, and gained access to his memories after taking him over.
He even knew the tone Suguru used to use for Satoru’s name. The soft way he called his name. He knew the only thing in the entire world that could stop the strongest sorcerer in modern times was using the love of his life against him.
The smile Satoru had when he thought it was Suguru makes me believe that the only thing he wanted was to see him again.
Then, when he realized it wasn’t him, Kenjaku said “how sad, you don’t recognize me?”
As if to say Suguru would be devasted that Satoru didn’t recognize him. Kenjaku knows how Suguru feels about Satoru.
Then Satoru calls him on his bs and he says “creepy, how did you know?”
Creepy?
The only other time Kenjaku is creeped out is waaaaaaay later in the manga (spoilers ahead) when Satoru sets the fight day to Dec 24th Kenjaku acknowledges that it’s romantic, and that “having a date with him on the 24th gives him the creeps”.
Oh, I know he’s grossed out with how much they love each other. Like. How the hell else do you interpret that???? Come. On.
Add in when Suguru somehow comes back from the dead for a moment and tries to choke his own body to save Satoru. Kenjaku is baffled—that’s never happened before. That is a demonstration of love everlasting, absolutely.
Then you have Shoko’s “I’d never fall in love with either of you, but you were still never alone” to SatoSugu, basically confirming that she knew the two of them shared a romantic bond that she couldn’t replicate the depth of.
So. Yes. They were very very much in love with each other and to this day Satoru loves Suguru with every fiber of his being and lives his life dedicated to atoning for his (self-perceived) failures to Suguru. He thinks about him everyday. He says he was his only friend. He has Shoko, Ijichi, Mei Mei, and Utahime and yet he only sees Suguru. He only sees Suguru.
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alotofpockets · 5 months
Text
Seeking comfort | Natasha Romanoff
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Prompt: "I didn't know where else to go."
Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1.3k
A little over a week ago Natasha had left to go on an Avenger mission, it wasn’t the first mission she went on since the two of you started dating six months ago, but it had been the longest one. Every day that Natasha was away, your worries for her wellbeing grew. You weren’t in the superhero world yourself, so it was all still rather new for you. 
The more that your worries grew, the harder it got for you to sleep at night, it was getting to the point where you woke up to a nightmare every hour or so. You decided to text Wanda to ask if maybe you could stay at the Compound for a bit. She agreed instantly and texted you the address. You had met the Avengers on a few occasions but it had always been for events that were elsewhere, so when you walked up on the Compound’s gigantic driveway, your eyes looked all over the place, taking in the enormous buildings. 
Wanda opened the door and let you in. "Sorry, I didn't know where else to go." She shakes her head, “No worries, you’re always welcome here. Let me show you around.” After a tour of the Compound you found yourself in the common room where a bunch of the Avengers were gathered, “Hey y/n, good to see you!” Steve gets up and gives you a hug. “We were just about to start a movie, want to join us?” Natasha’s friends surrounding you was a nice distraction, of course you still had your worries, but at least your mind wasn’t constantly on those anymore. 
It was getting late when the movie ended, so Wanda showed you to Natasha’s room. At first it felt a little bit weird being in your girlfriend’s room, without having you by her side, but it quickly started to feel comforting. Her familiar scent was all around you, pictures and trinkets filled the shelves in her room. You look around, and find pictures with her teammates, her family, as well as a few with the two of you. You smile when you come across the picture that you deemed your favorite picture of the two of you. It made you feel warm inside that Natasha collected all these memorabilia from her favorite moments, there was something so sweet about it. 
Once you finished looking around her room, you went ahead and found a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants in her closet. Wearing her clothes made you feel instantly closer to her, as you slipped into her bed and laid your head down on her pillow. It was the first night that the nightmares stayed away. Your night was peaceful, until a slight shaking woke you up. “Hi baby.” The familiar voice of your girlfriend whispers softly. You have to blink a few times in order to realize that you aren’t dreaming, and that your girlfriend is actually sitting beside you on the bed. “Nat!” You sit up and fall into her arms, “I missed you so much.” She wraps her arms around you and kisses the top of your head. “I’ve missed you too, detka.” After a moment of quiet embrace Natasha speaks up, her voice still soft. “Not that I don’t love having you here, but how come you’re here?” 
“I missed you so much, and I was so worried about you, so I asked Wanda if I could come by the Compound for a bit. Then I was invited to join movie night and Wanda let me stay the night because it was getting late. It has been so nice sleeping in your room though, it helped with the missing part a bit.” Natasha smiles down at you, “Well, let me get changed real quick and I will join you.” After she presses a soft kiss to your forehead, she walks over to her closet to pick out some pajamas.
Natasha lays down beside you in her bed, “Come on, let’s get some more sleep, and then we can catch up tomorrow. How does that sound?” You hum in agreement, already fighting to keep your eyes open. Natasha turns on her side to put her phone down on her nightstand, you take it as an opportunity to wrap your arm around her, and snuggle into her back. Your girlfriend scooted back into you a bit, getting comfortable herself, she intertwined her fingers with yours and pulled them closer to her chest. 
The comfort of your girlfriend laying safely in your arms, let your body drift away in a peaceful slumber. Natasha stays awake for a while longer, her thumb rubbing lightly over the back of your hand. She was so glad to be with you again, your arms wrapped around her, and your legs intertwined. There wasn’t anywhere she would rather be than in your arms. She had missed you so much while she was away, it made her realize just how much she loved you. Natasha had missed you every moment of every day that she had been apart from you. She knew that being away was a part of her job, but the way she had missed you the past week, made her realize something. She wanted to come home to you.
Natasha had let you sleep in, realizing you needed the extra rest. She was watching so sleep, not in a creepy way, just full of love. You woke up to her green eyes lighting up at the realization that you were awake. “Good morning, baby.” Your voice slightly raspy. “Good morning, detka, how did you sleep?” She gently moves some hair away from your face. “Better than I have the whole week, I love when I get to fall asleep with you.” Natasha’s smile widens at your words, now was the perfect time to ask you. “I would love to come home to you, like how I did last night. It made me so happy, so I wanted to ask you if maybe you would want to move in together?” Her question got you to wake up fully fast. “I would love that.” You hug her tight and start placing kisses all over her face. “That would be perfect.” 
A couple weeks later you were moving into a beautiful apartment in New York, close to the Compound and your job. It had big windows overlooking the Hudson river, one of the few requests that Natasha had for an apartment. Her view on the Hudson river had always helped her calm down when she was looking out of her window in the Compound. All of the Avengers that were around helped the two of you move in, declining Tony’s offer to pay for the movers, you wanted to share this experience with Natasha, without missing any part of it. 
When everything was moved in the Avengers stayed for some take out dinner, the first meal shared in your shared home with Natasha. After they left, you took Natasha’s hand and walked around your new house together. Talking about all the ideas the both of you had to turn your house into a home. 
The first night in your new place was special, and Natasha wanted to make sure that it would be memorable. She took out her polaroid camera and took a few pictures of the both of you. Since movie nights were special to the both of you, Natasha had set everything for a relaxing evening in bed, filled with your favorite movies, and snacks. The pile of polaroids grew, and you couldn’t wait to fill your home with memories, just like you had seen in Natasha’s room back at the Compound. 
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doudouma · 4 months
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hey there!! I hope you are doing well! I was reading your one headcannon dad! Douma x child! Reader and I was wondering if you could do a “continuation” where Muzan had to babysit the child. Make sure to take care of yourself and drink plenty!!!! :)
“douma has a WHAT!?” pt2
muzan babysitting doumas child!(reader)
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read part one here!
this is a semi pt2 of dad!douma! muzan having babysitting doumas child, hm? this will definitely be interesting〜 (reader is also still 2-5, from part one.)
there are no warnings, my dear lotus.
reader is gender neutral.❀ 〜
a/n : hello, im doing quite well! thank your for the reminder, dearest! be sure to take care of yourself, aswell〜
╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚
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hmm… would muzan even want to babysit doumas child?
no, but for the sake of douma getting his mission done, maybe killing some hashira plus him potentially finding the blue spider lily? yes.
he doesn’t even like douma, he’s one of his least favorite upper moons. but after all, douma is still a uppermoon. upper moon two, if you will〜
which means he has advantages that lower kizuki and demons don’t!
muzan would definitely negotiate with douma on why he has to babysit his child. they’re not his! but douma is just so persistent…
“muzan-sama〜! can you please babysit my child for me? while i go on my mission? it’s far too dangerous, i can’t risk losing my precious baby!”
“why? whatever happened to “uncle akaza”? they aren't mine, and certainly isn’t my responsibility. you should just be a better father and just protect them.”
“muzan-sama, please? i’ll give you my beautiful eye in return? akaza-dono is out somewhere. they’re just a baby to me, i don’t want them to be traumatized for what they'll witness. see how cute they look? i promise they won’t cause any trouble〜 they'll spread joy onto you〜 something you may need〜”
💢“go. and be quick. i don’t want to babysit any longer than i have to, for i have more important things to do. i have no use for your eye, either.”
now it’s just you and muzan.. muzan and you..
he would most likely sit you off in a corner and let you doodle on blank papers.
while he finishes up any work he has. and of course looking off into the area you’re in, making sure you’re not causing any trouble〜
for some reason he decides to head your way? he doesn’t even know why, he just does.
when he sees that your actually drawing pictures of landscapes and sceneries, he’s impressed?!
(yes, you are a still toddler. only cool readers over here.)
he asks you questions about your drawings, and listens carefully through your speech impediment.
now that you’ve caught his eye, he moves you closer to where he’s working, at his desk. (congrats, you got promoted from the corner to near his desk!)
out of his old man habits, he starts rambling to you about flowers, and your little self just listening, occasionally asking questions.
it seems like.. the two of you are bonding over flowers, hm? how cute♡
it seems like you’ve got knowledge on flowers yourself, so muzan proceeds to asks you,
“at any point in time of your doings, have you seen a flower thats in deep blue of color? a blue spider lily?”
whatever your answer was, he decides to keep you closer to him.
not only because you could help him find the blue spider lily, but because… well…
now he sort of favors you♡
not your father. but you. he will never admit this either, for you’re still the offspring of douma.
when he finishes up with his experiments for the moment, he turns to you and sees that you’re bored.
he would find something else for the both of you to do. taking a stroll!
he picks you up, and carries you around asakusa, and any nearby beautiful forest, while the both of you still talk about flowers, or anything your toddler brain wants to talk about〜
after around a couple of hours, the two of you return back to the castle. and what’s that, a little smile on muzans face?!
gone, as soon as you look at him, though.
he sees douma, and quickly shoves you into his arms.
“oooh, my baby〜! did you miss papa? i thought of you the whole time! oh, how much i love you♡! muzan-sama, thank you so much! i know my little one wasn’t causing any trouble, right? what did you two do?”
“they were fine. and that’s none of your business, your child is back to you without harm. there'll be repercussions the next time you make me babysit, now leave.”
muzan doesn’t have any love for children. let alone, almost anyone.
overall, he actually didn’t mind babysitting you! not only we’re you easy to handle, but you’re intelligent.
youre fun-filled toddler personality probably what was needed to cheer muzan up, even for just a minute♡
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ooo〜 this was so cute, i really loved to write this! somehow, i finished this relatively quick once i started it. once again, thank you all for your patience, my precious flowers❀ 〜
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muddyorbsblr · 1 year
Text
what makes a princess
See my full list of works here!
Summary: Morgan asks a question about Jane's royalty status that leads to her revealing one of Loki's secrets
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warning/s: potentially inaccurate depictions of how to become royalty in Asgard; other than that, none, this is just fluff [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: Morgan being an adorable lil beb; Nat doling out some tickle torture; teammates/coworkers to lovers
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"Is Auntie Jane a princess?" 
You looked up from your laptop, taking a break from typing out your latest set of reports to wrap up your most recent mission with Nat to look at little Morgan Stark, who was sitting across you at the dining table. She looked the spitting image of her father as she anticipated your answer. 
"I don't…think so…?" you trailed off, trying to remember if Thor had even mentioned anything recently about plans to marry the mystical hammer wielding scientist. "Maybe one day soon, baby. When they get married."
"Who's getting married?" The velvety low timbre of Loki's voice nearly made you jump out of your seat, his fingers briefly ghosting over the skin of your shoulder not helping in the slightest. A small squeak of protest slipped from your mouth when he picked up your coffee mug. "Ease your worry, darling. I'm simply refilling your cup. Black with a teaspoon of sugar, or would you prefer something sweeter?" 
Morgan's little laugh began to echo throughout the common area. "You have confuzzled brows again, Auntie Y/N." 
The image of the raven-haired god looking up at you through his lashes from where he stood behind the kitchen island may very well haunt your dreams tonight in the best possible way. "You know what…surprise me, Mischief." The smirk he sent your way should have had you worried with what he had in mind, and yet the only thing you felt was the violent fluttering in your stomach that had nothing to do with your prolonged fasting. "As for your first question…we were talking about Thor and Jane." 
"Ah, well my oaf of a brother may think he's been keeping relatively quiet about the matter, but that day will most definitely be coming sooner rather than later," he spoke over the clinking of a metal spoon stirring around in your cup. 
"So it's like in the cartoons?" Morgan directed her question at him. "The prince has to marry the woman he loves so that she becomes a princess?" 
"Not quite, little Stark." Your brows knit together again at the sound of whipped cream coming out of a can coming from his direction. "There are no strict marital customs in Asgard, and as such if a member of the royal court were to publicly commit themself to another, then in turn that individual would become royalty as well. Thor has publicly committed himself to Doctor Foster, and despite having abdicated the throne to the Valkyrie, he is still a Prince of Asgard." 
"So Auntie Jane is a princess?" 
"Don't arm us with this info, Laufeyson. I might just call her Princess Foster for the rest of time," Nat's voice sounded through the common area, her usually lethal hands wielding a more delicate touch when she ruffled the hair on your and Morgan's heads before occupying the seat beside you. 
"By Asgardian customs, yes. You can consider Doctor Foster a princess." 
The assassin eyed Loki's approaching form with a knowing smirk on her face, tilting her head to look at the mug he placed on the table a few inches from your hand. "Hold on, are you telling us that all that's needed for someone to be considered royalty in Asgard is if a member of the royal family is in love with them? That's it?" 
"If it's as widely known as how my brother loves his mortal," he confirmed. "And while I surmise that she will not appreciate being addressed as such, you would not be incorrect in calling her Princess or Your Highness." You were acutely aware of the god's proximity to you from the slight movement in the corner of your eye of his fingers at the back of your chair. And the slight heat coming from his body literally inches from your side.
"Her Royal Highness, Princess Jane Foster," you mused, blowing lightly on the hot beverage in your mug and holding back the slightest thrill as the taste of your favorite little indulgence, a white chocolate mocha with a cold vanilla flavored whipped cream on top, flooded your tastebuds and blanketed you in an instant comfort. "She's definitely gonna hate that. Thank you, Mischief." 
Your heart caught in your throat when he tucked a hand under your chin, keeping you looking up at him as his free hand straightened out the ruffled locks of your hair, putting them neatly back into place. "My pleasure, little mortal," he murmured, swiping his thumb briefly at the corner of your mouth before walking back to the kitchen, starting on his own drink.
"You wanna fill me in on this domestic bliss vibe I'm picking up from Horns over there?" Nat whispered, leaning in so close she was practically draped on your lap trying to sneak the cup of coffee away from you to take a quick sniff. "He knows your 'treat yourself coffee'? Alright how long have you two been doing the horizontal tango, spill the hardware details, I'm texting Wanda and Jane. Toot suite. You've been holding out on us, you absolute slut--Ow." 
You rolled your eyes at her reaction to you elbowing her in the side. "Please, we both know that barely tickled. Now stand down, Romanoff, I haven't been holding back on anything and you know it--"
"That means you're a princess, too, Auntie Y/N!"
The Russian spy chuckled at Morgan's excitement, resting her chin on your shoulder like a child awaiting a bedtime story. "Uhm…no, sweetie. It doesn't work like that," you tried explaining to the little girl. "See there's more than one kind of love. There's the romantic love like you see in your princess movies, and that's the type that your Dad has for your Mom, the type Thor has for Jane. And that's what makes your Auntie Jane a princess."
"Then there's the love for family and friends," Nat continued for you, motioning between the three of you. "The way I love you, Uncle Clint, Auntie Y/N, and the rest of the team--well, most of them." She elbowed you before you could let out the teasing words dancing at the tip of your tongue. The name of the one that Nat loved in the romantic sense. "Not a single word, Williams."
"I wasn't gonna say anything," you deflected coyly, batting your eyes to feign innocence. "It's not like when you said 'most' my mind immediately went to a certain Serge--NAT!!" You busted out into giggles as nimble fingers found every single ticklish spot by your ribs and showed you no mercy. "I'll get--hahahahaha--I'll get you back for thihihihis, Romanoff, I promise you."
You made a quick note to slip some hot pink hair dye into her shampoo bottle on your next sleepover. The tickling onslaught had taken up all your attention that you didn't even notice that the dark-haired Asgardian leaning back against the kitchen counter was watching the scene before him, a fond smile slowly stretching across his face the longer he watched you.
Nat eventually let up once you started clutching your stomach from laughing too hard, continuing her explanation to little baby Morgan, who was currently the picture of angelic patience. And now looking not a thing like her father.
"Anyway, that kind of love is the kind that Thor has for us. That means that while there is love there, it doesn't make the entire team princes and princesses. You get me, baby?" 
"I get you, Auntie Nat. But you don't get me. Auntie Y/N is a princess, too." 
You took a breath before closing your laptop, promising yourself that you'd finish the reports later tonight. "Last I checked, sweetheart, Asgardian Barbie doesn't like me like that." 
She rolled her eyes at you. "I know that! But Prince Loki does, and that's why you're a princess, too!" 
The amused smile on your face immediately dropped at her words, your neck twitching from the sound of a spoon clattering against the sink and the sound of hurried footsteps walking out of the kitchen causing your skin to prickle. "Morgan…sweetie, you know it's not nice to say things that aren't true," you said softly, not bothering to mask the wavering tone of your voice. 
"But it is!" she insisted, pointing her little hand towards the door. "Princess Auntie Jane, tell her!" 
"Princess--? Oh…I'm guessing you all know about those customs in Asgard that technically make me a princess now?" You nodded your answer at her, not trusting yourself to say anything while you were still struggling to wrap your head around that bombshell that Morgan dropped on you. Wondering if it even was a bombshell to begin with or just the child's overactive imagination. "So I'm also guessing that now you all know that Y/N's a princess, too?" 
"She most definitely is not," you protested, briefly poking at her ribs to drive your point home. "Jane. Babes, this isn't funny." You motioned a pointed finger between her and Nat. "You both know how I feel about him, so baiting me with this kind of hope is just cruel and unusual punishment, especially when I know I haven't done anything wrong to either of--"
"You kind of really are, though," the scientist kept on, giving you a look as if she was amused by how this was completely new information to you. "You really didn't know that Mr 'You are all beneath me' wants you literally beneath him?" 
"Foster, I am two seconds away from kicking your ass over that line. Mostly because I didn't think of it myself." You elbowed Nat in the side again. "Harder. I could almost feel that." 
"Can you two just be serious for two seconds and tell the baby that she's wrong about Loki?" 
You were about to face Morgan again to advise her to find the god and apologize for saying something so outlandish, when Nat and Jane moved in unison, a hand placed on each of your shoulder, leaning in a way that you were now face to face with both of them.
"Okay, little baby," Jane started with a mock serious look. "You're wrong about Loki." 
"Unbelievably wrong," Nat capped off. "Fine. If you don't believe us, then let's start with how he saved you from that building in Belarus." 
"He has saved each of our asses at least once in the last few years," you argued.
"Yeah, but he doesn't heal us with his magic and then stays with us in the medical wing waiting for us to wake up. And I should know because that entire night Thor gave me a laundry list of the times that he got injured from battle and Loki would tell him, and I quote, that 'he shouldn't expend his energy on healing magic when it could have been better utilized for fortifying defenses'." 
"That's--That can't--That doesn't sound right," you muttered, trying to remember anything from Belarus other than being trapped under a collapsed column, convinced that your legs were done for and you'd never walk again, assuming that anyone would even find you in the wreckage. And then next thing you knew you were in the medical wing, with the god only briefly touching your head and telling you that he was glad you were alright before running off to call for Bruce to check on you.
"You make him smile," Morgan spoke up, her face lit up the same way it did when you sat with her on Princess Movie Nights. 
"He smiles around everyone as long as they're not your father or your Uncle Steve." 
"No, Auntie Y/N." She flopped herself onto the table, arms outstretched towards you, like she was trying to quite literally grab your attention and hold on to it. "With us, Prince Loki smiles with his face. When you're around, he smiles with his heart." 
Her words had you stunned silent, frozen in your seat as your friends let you go to walk over to the other side of the table and lift Stark's daughter up in the air to wrap her in a warm embrace and nuzzle her cheeks, earning them several little echoing giggles from her. 
"I uhm…I should go," you mumbled, standing from the table and giving your laptop a small tap. "I'll finish my reports tonight." 
"Tomorrow," Nat corrected you. "I have a feeling you're gonna be a bit busy tonight, Princess." 
Your pulse was drumming loudly in your ears with every step you took towards Loki's apartment, every single nerve on your body on high alert as if readying you to run at a moment's notice. Whether that was away from his place and back to the compound to tell everyone they were wrong, or into his arms, was yet to be seen.
When you reached his door, you could hear voices coming from the other side. One more hushed and panicked, the other jovial and boisterous. Thor.
"You should have stayed, Brother! You finally need not hide your affections for her, and might I say. 'Tis about time because your skirting around her was getting more than tiresome, Jane and I have been considering locking you two in a tiny room together so you could just tell her." 
You couldn't hear what Loki said in response other than something about 'being exposed by Stark's offspring', but that was more than enough to convince you that maybe this wouldn't end in you feeling like a total clown. That maybe there was more credit to the words of Morgan and your friends than you first believed. 
Just three seconds of bravery, that's all you need, you told yourself, raising your hand to rap on the door before you could talk yourself out of it. 
"It seems that in matters of the heart, your little mortal is braver than you, Brother," you heard the blond Asgardian comment before the door opened to reveal the towering bulging god, giving you a knowing look before shuffling out of your way. "I will gladly answer any question he leaves unanswered by the end of the week, my friend." 
"I'm holding you to that, Blondie," you waved him off with a playful smile before turning to face Loki. "Can we talk?" 
He looked at you with a hint of caution, almost as if he was on the same level of anxiety that you were, before giving you a small nod and motioning toward the door. "Come in, darling." 
The words tumbled out of you as soon as you closed the door. "They told me about Belarus." The caution in his eyes turned into panic. "But I need to hear it from you. Because I have…gaps? In my memory. Things I can't reconcile." 
He closed the distance separating you two, taking your hands in his. "Ask me." 
"The last thing I remember from that building was that I couldn't feel my legs. And I know that even with all the tech Stark has at his disposal, I shouldn't be up on my feet right now. Not like this. Rhodey is still in crutches despite all the efforts of Stark and Banner combined, and yet somehow…I'm not. So please. Tell me. Did you--" 
"I healed you," he cut you off, finishing your inquiry. "I could not bear the thought of you waking up distraught. Adjusting to a new reality where you had to rely on any form of machinery to help you function. Not when I knew that I could cure those ails." 
The air left your lungs at his admission, leaving you struggling to even form your next words. "What happened to energy better expended fortifying defenses?" 
His mouth turned up slightly in a knowing smirk. "I see my brother told Doctor Foster of our days in the battlefield." 
"And he's a touch wounded about it." You gave him a playful squint of your eyes, trying your damnedest to keep the mood light despite how closely he was standing, so close you could feel the slight heat radiating off of him, thinning the air to the point that you found it hard to take in your next breaths. "Why did you do it? You were in the clear, everyone else was in the clear, we finished the mission--"
"I didn't give a damn about the mission," he hissed, stepping even closer to you and effectively trapping you between him and the solid door behind you. His breath came out in shuddering exhales, bottom lip quivering ever so slightly as he rested his forehead against yours. "The only objective that held any weight with me was keeping you safe." His hand rested lightly on your waist, thumb softly stroking your ribcage. "I have braved far worse things than a burning building and I will face even more dire perils if it means your safety. If it means I do not have to witness your light fading away. And as for why…"
He brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose before his lips ghosted a path to your forehead. If it hadn't been for the god wrapping his arm around you and securing you against him, you would have sunk to the ground from his attentions. 
"It is because Stark's daughter speaks the truth," he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss between your brows. "Because I love you, precious mortal. I never intended for you to know this, to be burdened with the knowledge of my affections, but seeing as I cannot unring this bell, I only wish for you to know that I hold you under no obligation to say anything. All I ask is for to not detest me for my--"
"Are you sure you don't want me to say anything?" you choked out, your heart at your throat from attempting to come to terms with this reality. That these words were actually coming from the god you'd silently pledged your heart to so long ago. That not only did he feel the same, but he was on the exact same page that you were on, believing that the love was unrequited.
"I have long ago resigned to the certainty that my affections for you are--"
"Requited," you breathed, raising shaking hands to rest on his chest, tears welling in your eyes as you felt his erratic heartbeat against your palm. "Don't you dare even try to unring this bell because I don't detest you, Mischief." You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising to the tips of your toes to press a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips. "I love you, too." 
You felt your feet leave the ground as his arm tightened around you and lifted you up, bringing your faces level to one another, his fingers weaving through your hair in a firm yet gentle hold. "Are you sure, darling? You wish to be mine?" 
"Yes!" you blurted out, your face breaking out into a grin that instantly made your cheeks ache. You could feel the tension that flooded you just moments ago slowly melting away at the sight of him mirroring your joy over the turn of events. Any words you wished to say fell silent with a small squeak at the back of your throat when he leaned in again and captured your lips in a more heated kiss, sighing into each others mouths as he lifted you away from the wall, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. 
When Loki held you up by one arm, opening his apartment door with the other and proceeding to walk back out into the hallway, you let out a little squeak against his lips. "Where--"
"You'll see, my love," he said with a chuckle, pressing one more kiss to your lips before shifting his hold on you, swinging your whole body until he carried you bridal style. "I believe I owe someone a small debt of gratitude for telling you what I had insisted I keep to myself for fear of your abhorrence." 
He leaned down and touched his forehead to yours, lightly rubbing the tips of your noses together and making you giggle at the tender gesture. "I could never--"
"I told you he smiles with his heart!" Morgan's little voice pierced the silence of the hall. "And now you do, too, Princess Auntie Y/N!" 
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A/N: For some reason this has been microwaving in my head for weeks before I even began writing it, so now y'all have it, too 👀🫡
‘everything’ taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee
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velvetures · 10 months
Text
Vulnerable pt.1?
A/N: A not-so-little thing I've had for a few weeks, and wanted to see if a part two was something anyone would be interested in reading. If so, please let me know. Summary: You try and get Ghost to relax after a harsh mission and find a bit of a quiet moment. T/W: not proofread :)
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Bad intel led to you and your Lieutenant being nearly hunted down and killed by a not-so-small group of arms dealers who caught on quickly to the pair of foreigners lingering just a little bit too close to their sheltered storage garage right in the middle of a market district in the South East. The task force assumed sending in an entire squad would be overkill just for some simple recon information and decided that you and Ghost would be the perfect pair for the job. ‘In and Out…’ Price had said quite offhandedly, sliding the prepared information in two files across the table to you. Only Price’s sources hadn’t double-checked if the area was secure enough for them to enter without full backup on standby. Not necessarily a lethal kind of mistake when bringing you and the Lieutenant into the equation, but there were too many close calls and stray bullets that were clearly heard for either of you to feel super confident in getting away unscathed.
Your only savior was a small farmhouse that had been recently abandoned due to the illegal and dangerous activity that had been surrounding the small city. Modest in size with two bedrooms and running water. Perfect for a makeshift safe house to keep the trackers off your asses until an extraction could be arranged and put into motion. Contrary to belief, the 141 didn’t have the bottomless pit of resources everyone believed they had at their disposal. Which included access to evac and trained air-support teams. This wasn’t a big mission that had a lot of working parts and multiple organizations involved that had enough liquidated funds to through out for a helo and heavy gunners to rescue two operators from the middle of who-the-fuck-knows-where.
That means with busted equipment, inoperable comms, hardly enough ammunition to fight out of a wet paper bag, and zero way of knowing when and if you’d be rescued, there was nothing left to do but try and relax in one of the most difficult predicaments. It left you searching through cabinets for maybe some kind of food to keep the both of you while Ghost did one of his favorite things. Pacing the house from window to window looking for the slightest bit of movement. The trouble being, there wasn’t anything for at least two miles in any direction. The people who owned this place were farmers of some sort, and had placed their home right in the middle of crop fields that gave a very advantageous sightline. While that information gave you quite a bit of comfort, it was not effecting Ghost positively in the slightest.
Your relationship with the Lieutenant was complex, to say the least. When you were first introduced it was for a succession of short co-op missions that were nothing if not brief and very impersonal leaving you with more questions than answers about the man who stayed hidden under the mask. Through some talks that you hadn’t been privy to being in the room for, John Price decided that your skills would be more useful to Task Force 141 than for the U.S. Division of Clandestine Service and offered you a position that you couldn’t possibly decline.
By day-in and day-out contact with Ghost, you got a lot more comfortable with him and learned much of his little idiosyncratic behaviors. Maybe a little too well…. He didn’t particularly act much differently towards you in the grand scheme of things, but something in you felt like trust had been developed to where he could depend on you when the situation called for it.
“Go hit the rack, I’ll take first watch.” He called gruffly from the living room where he had moved a chair from the kitchen to sit facing the front door head on with his MP5 resting lazily on his chest.
You couldn’t help but notice just how damn tired he looked under all that gear and through the black smeared around his eyes. He couldn’t be carrying less than one hundred pounds on him right now; even sitting in that chair with it wasn’t a good enough solution. Let you take a moment or two for yourself, stripping out of your tac vest and heavily weighted gear to drop it on top of the kitchen counter with a little grunt. Two days ago you both got the luxury of sleeping, and since then it’s been nothing but being on the run.
This would be the safest place for you that wasn’t in the belly of an evac bird, and the thought of Ghost not taking the time to sleep sat in your mind like a lead sinker. Leaning against the doorway and watching him for a long moment, you start having thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. Ones that normally wouldn’t surface if you’d been able to separate working with Ghost from the more personal aspect of literally sharing almost every part of your life with him. Thoughts about how you could make him feel better… even if just for the night. That no one was around for miles and whatever happened could safely stay between the pair of you.
By utter carelessness of your position with the team or lack of fear about how the Lieutenant might respond, you walk into the living room and kneel down right in front of him with your fingers reaching out to unlace his dusty boots. Off instinct alone, you expected and watched as his foot flinched away from you. His whole body jumps and stiffens at the contact and sight of you kneeling on the floor. He quickly pauses and collects himself, taking several moments before his gravelly voice breaks the silence.
“What’re you doin’ Sergeant?” His eyes grew heavy and showed more expression than the rest of his massive body as they flashed with confusion and a little swell of anger. That aloofness didn’t hide that slight guardedness of something that made him uncomfortable in one way or another.
“I’m perfectly capable of takin’ care of my fuckin’ self.” He adds with zero discernible sign of either offense or gratitude. You can’t help but smile tiredly, feeling like you’re attempting to soothe a feral wolf into letting you pull it’s paw out of trap.
“I never said you couldn’t L.T.,” You reply gently, reaching back to start unhooking the laces from their claws on his left foot. “Just thought you couldn’t use some affection.” Smirking to yourself, you can’t help but think something this small being considered ‘affection’ didn’t fit anyone save for Ghost. He was just too hard to approach. Walls so thick and tall that it would take someone with patience beyond that of a human to break through and see what rested behind all of that brash posturing and icy disposition.
“You know affection is something I’m averse to,” he utters, watching yet making no effort to stop you. “What you’re doin’ is unnecessary.” A small sound close to a growl escapes from behind the mask when my hand reaches to the back of his leg to help aid my effort of pulling his boot off.
Chuckling softly and sitting the boot down at your side you respond, “I know you don’t like affection,” You’re already working on the other one, purposefully moving slowly as not to overwhelm or spook him. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it, L.T..” You can’t help but look up at him almost exhaustedly yet still trying to be reassuring.
“M’fine without it.” He spits out quickly, looking away from your face back down to your progress on the laces, his masked face otherwise unreadable. “Didn’t ask you for this shit, Sergeant.” Tinged with an undercurrent of irritation his deep voice sounds near the bridge of turning to anger.
“Mothering me isn’t in your best interest.” He growls low and threateningly in your face as he bends down to grab the boot sitting next to you and giving it a quick look of observation before sitting it back down closer to him. You just finish taking off his other boot and sit it down next to the other without much more of a verbal fight and put a hand on his thigh to steady your sore legs as you get back up to your feet.
“I’m younger than you Ghost, I can’t mother you.” You reply, holding out your hand for him.
He doesn’t make note or stop you from using him to help yourself up, however, Ghost follows your movements carefully… closely. He’s doing everything in his power to hide his emotions, but there’s still a faint twitch of his lips when he looks down at his boots sitting at his side. You’d done something very unusual, and he knew berating you was what he should’ve done. Yet a flinch of a smile was what really moved Ghost’s mouth. It’s gone before it even surfaces, pushed down by the sight. of you holding out your little hand in front of him. The sounds of his deep breathing fill the quiet house as you both sit there unflinching of each other. The Lieutenant shifts in his chair, readjusting his rifle on his chest.
“Go to bed. It’s late.” His repeated command felt softer now. Wavering a bit with you hand still held out and your fingers wiggling a little.
“Come on,” You hold steady and patient.
Reward comes in the form of feeling Ghost’s heavy and large hand falling into yours and gripping just hard enough to allow you the phantom sensation that you’re actually helping him up from the chair, hearing a short grunt as his back straightens up. Without explanation, you lead the Lieutenant through the small house back towards the only bedroom in the house with an actual bed left behind by the owners, pulling him to the center of the room and turning around to face him.
“Put your arms up for me.”
“Excuse me?” Ghost’s frown can be heard from behind the mask. Despite his apparent bewilderment, he hesitantly obeys, extending his arms above his head with an exhale of a tense breath, looking down at you with dark and questioning eyes. “What are you doing now?”
You just smile and hum to yourself softly, reaching out to begin unclipping and unzipping the sections of his tac vest holding it on his upper body and the multiple ammo belts. Carefully draping them over you shoulder as you release his body from them one by one. Seeing the way Ghost’s body sinks into itself with the weight being pulled off after days without rest. You feel his eyes scan over you, over your hands finding ways to take off his gear for the first time in your life, feeling your way through sunch an unusual yet careful act.
“Bein’ fuckin’ ridiculous…” He growls, covering up the feelings of not being so concealed by barking at you a little.
“Shhh.” Your hush does enough to stop his quiet and brooding complaints.
Long enough for you to kneel back down at his feet and work at the thigh straps over his pants and even remove the ankle holster you’d left alone while taking off his boots. He doesn’t resist this part, just watching you undress him bit by bit with half a mind questioning just what had happened for you to start acting so strangely. You’d always been sweet. Much nicer than your job allowed for. Yet even this was quite off the edge of the character Ghost had built for you over the years. This felt downright intimate for just two operators to be doing.
Then again your shared situation wasn’t exactly one of professionalism at this point. You’d been improvising for nearly a full day just trying to stay alive. Once back on your feet, you take hold of his hand again, this time with a little less caution since you’d already touched him there, and begin pulling at the fingertips to slide his sand and dirt-cakes gloves off. Even seeing his bare skin under his gloves be seen in the dim lamplight of the house, Ghost doesn’t do more than flex his fingers once you’ve rid him of the stiff material.
Purposefully avoiding his mask, you get Ghost down to nothing more than boxers and a t-shirt, even with his help at certain parts without him growling more or acting like you were irritating him. While he still gave off a feeling of all-around grumpiness and more than a little confused as hell, you paid it no mind as you led him towards the edge of the bed and pointed to it with a short yet polite command for him to ’sit’. Right away you noticed his hesitation and the way that his shoulders and arms tensed, his attention solely on you, flashing between your eyes and mouth like he was trying to reassure himself that he’d heard you correctly. But with one small tug on his hand, he turns around and sits on the bed with his feet resting on the floor and his arms braced on both sides of him a little stiffly.
“Now what?” His voice held a bit of rasp to it as he tracked your movement from his side, seeing you climb up into the bed and position yourself on your knees behind him. The close proximity didn’t go unnoticed by the Lieutenant as he cleared his throat, once again interrupting the calm silence in the house. His tension filled the small space between you, heating the gap of air, almost electrifying it.
“Just relax Ghost.” Easily touching his shoulders, you begin working your palms flat against the slopes of his muscled neck.
Purposefully but gently rubbing at the stiff cords of muscle and introducing the sensation to him as easily as possible in the case that it was a bit too overwhelming for him all at once. You knew you’d pushed the boundaries with him much further past anything you’d expected to achieve in one night. But now that he was sitting here in front of you, it was hard not to smile brightly that he was trusting you so much. Allowing your hands to be on him. Accepting that you had positioned the both of you in a very vulnerable position that could lead to a lot more violent options than affectionate ones. Torture and nightmares had given more than a fair share to Ghost, yet he was patiently staving off his own clear hesitation so that you could play out whatever this was turning out to be.
Your command went unacknowledged just like all of Ghost’s from earlier had; His breathing steadily slowing down into a deep and rich, relaxed sort of rhythm. Power of your hands and calming attitude worked faster than you anticipated, leaving the massive man sitting between your thighs begin to release. Tension falling out of his body not only under your hands but by sight of his jaw loosening. You’re even lucky enough to spot him trying to take glances at you from the corner of his eye, only to look back ahead since you were in quite the blindspot. Taking your thumbs in a sweeping motion from the edges of his shoulders inward, you apply pressure on the back of his neck and experimentally reach higher up under the hem of his mask. A dangerous game to play. Rumbling sounds of appreciation filling your ears are better than any sort of medal you could earn or bet you’d ever cash in. His head rolls back slightly with each small circle of your thumbs and fingers, pushing against you. Silently asking for more pressure.
“Feel good?” You ask at just a whisper, not wanting to disturb the warm sort of feeling the room has right now by speaking too loud.
Under the safety of his mask, Ghost’s mouth curves into a smile hearing you. He rolls his head back again, arching slightly to accommodate your small hands struggling to find good purchase to keep working at the intensity he’d been hinting at. A much less controllable sound escapes his mouth when you begin working at a very sore spot he didn’t even know was present right at the base of his skull.
“Keep going,” His sleepy-sounding mutter makes your chest ache.
Grinning at the feeling of his harsh accent and sudden domestication you work away diligently down his back carefully and methodically so as to not miss a single thing. And while it’s not necessarily going to help him much, you go ahead and use your fingernails to gently scratch up and down. It’s then a groan interrupts your focus and you see Ghost shift on the edge of the bed. Believing you’d found the end of your time, you leaned back on your heels and expected him to get up and leave you in the bedroom alone. Watching him tug at his t-shirt and pull it over his head to toss it somewhere across the room was how you were told that Ghost did indeed want more. Only his shirt was getting in the way of something he wasn’t getting.
Hearing him give a deep sigh when your fingertips returned to his now bared skin gave you a rush of adrenaline and nearly caused you to wiggle happily that you’d been able to share this with Ghost. He leans back into you a little more, letting your hands and arms take more of the weight as he groans out;
“You’ve done this before.”
“Yeah, but not for a long time.” You answer, eyes smoothing over the muscles rippling as your hands work at them.
“You’re good,” He grunts, closing his eyes and zeroing in on how to focus his attention between your small hands working so efficiently and the conversation he’d begun. “How’d you get so good at it?” His head turns a little, trying to get at least one good look at you. He keeps shifting now, allowing him to keep you just in the edge of his periphery.
“Had a good teacher for a few years,” You answer, working in tight circles over a large ball of muscle fibers all collected just at the edge of his shoulder blade, earning another growling sound from the Lieutenant.
“Teacher? When?” He asks, giving a slow release of a deep breath giving a short indication that the muscle you’d been working to release was getting a bit uncomfortable. Pulling back for a moment just to give him and your hands a break, you hear him make a noise then lean back a little further, pressing his back against you almost like a dog wanting to be pet more.
“Don’t stop.” He requests in a husky tone. You chuckle aloud, returning your hands and taking a less aggressive approach by smoothing your palms over him in less-than-planned patterns, just enjoying feeling his tattooed and scarred skin under your hands as you think about how to answer him.
“A woman in London taught me,” you start, using your nails again on his skin softly. “In the year or so between my U.S. military discharge and acceptance into the task force with you.” You see the effect of your touch on Ghost as it takes him longer to respond and the way he keeps leaning more and more weight back into you, unable to keep himself from subconsciously trying to get closer. Wanting more whether he’d ever admit it or not. There’s no mistaking it between either of you, he’s enjoying this.
“I assume she was special to you.”
It was your neighbor just across the hallway from you. An older woman named Sarah. Eccentric in modern times, you’d always believed she must’ve been a force to be reckoned with when she wasn’t hindered by an aging body and an even more ailing mind. A massage therapist by trade, and a pianist by heart there wasn’t much that Sarah could accomplish without someone helping her once she became limited in movement living on the eighth floor of the apartment building you shared. Back then you didn’t have much in the way of contacts after leaving the country, and it led to a friendship with the old woman living across from you. Sharing stories, eating dinner together, grocery shopping together when she felt like going out, and trading some skills between each other. After telling Ghost this much with your fingers tracing out letters and shapes over his back, you can sense he’s listening carefully. And Ghost is feeling a slight fuzzy sensation building in the back of his brain, spreading out in a warm wave down to his fingertips and toes.
“She taught me massage since at the time I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my life.” Your head falls to the side, examining how the lamplight shines on ghost and deepens the already significant definition in his physique.
Ghost falls against you even more, and this time he lets his head fall back against you. Trying to counterbalance his weight and keep both of you from falling backwards with just him limp he’s becoming, you wrap on arm around his neck and hold his head in the bend of your arm. He gives another sigh, and settles against you heavily. He. looks at you in silence out of the corner of his eye listening to your explanation.
“Why was she your only friend?” You can’t help but chuckle at his question, resting your chin on his opposite shoulder and bringing your other arm under his to begin scratching and rubbing at his chest, feeling deep and puckered scars littering nearly every inch of him.
“I didn’t know anyone else. And you know me well enough to know that I’m not exactly extroverted.” You smile, tracing lightly up and down his well-defined arm. Ghost couldn’t be more comfortable laid against you.
“Sorry to hear that.” His voice low and husky with his mouth so close to your ear. “She must call or ask about you…”
You shake your head. “No. She died just before I joined you all. Her mind was… failing her. And there was some kind of accident in the middle of the night The police told me she was likely trying to get to the bathroom and fell. She apparently died on impact… they didn’t say what, but I think her head hit something.” You explain quietly. “And you and I both know that means lights out. So she didn’t suffer.”
“Sorry to hear that,” he answers as softly as he can manage after hearing the darker part of your happy memories. “How did it become… intimate, like this?” He asks, nodding to the way you were leaned up against his back with your hand tracing over every inch of him that you could reach. The longer you’ve both let this go, the more boundaries get pushed further out of reach, making it hard for either of you to really know where it could end.
You smile with a blush creeping up your neck onto your cheeks, thankful you’re somewhat hidden out of sight. “This isn’t really what she taught me,” You mutter a bit quiet. “When i was massaging you… yes. That I got taught. But this, it’s… just me.”
Out of your sight Ghost’s face flushes slightly as well, his cheeks a warm rose-color. You’re touching him in a way that he’d never expected. But hearing that you’re not just doing it for… relaxation, it’s a heavy but welcome thought. And Ghost can’t help that his body reacts to it with chills raising all over his skin despite the house being perfectly warm. He lets out a deep breath focusing on your words, repeating him over just to ensure that you’re not saying it one way and him interpreting it differently due to your hands being all over him, making him feel so good. Mind racing, heart pounding, he truly realizes just how vulnerable he is under you at this moment.
“I can stop if you’d like?” You offer, preparing to move away from him.
“No,” His hoarse voice gives away his sudden dry mouth. No matter how much your touch is affecting his body, he’s not willing to stop you right now. You’ve crossed into a level of trust that he can’t think to make you abide by anymore. It’s a foreign feeling for him, but he wants to push through it. Hoping he can feel more of you if he just holds on a little longer to this.
“Don’t stop."
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