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missvelvetsstuff · 1 year

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Guarded Heart

Bucky Barnes x Reader

MobAu

Summary: Y/N is the daughter of a powerful mob boss who only cares about her horses and making it to the Olympics but her father expects her to marry an equally powerful boss to help strengthen his business. Bucky is looking for a wife to help his business and give him an heir but already has a long term girlfriend, Natasha.

Chapter 16

Warnings: swearing, angst

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As all the guests were arriving at the Barnes townhouse, Y/N held court in George's office. First speaking to Wanda and Pietro when they arrived. Steve and Sam helped him up the stairs. He had been shot in the thigh but was expected to make a full recovery. His doctors weren't pleased that he insisted on checking himself out of the hospital but there was nothing they could do.

They also spoke with Loki and George separately. She was trying to get a bead on where everyones heads were to help work out what comes next.

When the food arrived, Y/N sat at one end of the Barnes formal dining room table, Pietro to her right and Wanda to her left. At the other end is George Barnes with Bucky on his right, Steve on his left and Sam next to Steve. Filling the rest of the seats are Tony Stark with Happy and Rhodey, plus Loki, Hela, Val and Heimdal. Yelena was still in bad shape but insisted on being there. Attorney Matt Murdock sat quietly observing and taking notes.

While everyone ate the conversation was casual, catching up with associates that hadn't been together in a non violent situation in a long while. It was a bit stilted since everyone had the coming discussion in mind, trying to figure out how to keep their advantages while working with former rivals.

Once the dessert, brandy and coffee had been served George spoke up.

"I want to thank everyone here for coming tonight and more importantly for your help in the mess that Pierce and Dreykov created. We are stronger when we work together and keeping that in mind I am proposing new alliances to strengthen the old ones."

He looked at his son, then to Y/N, who nodded subtly.

"Right. I want to announce the merging of the Barnes and Y/L/N families. Y/N and my son James will marry in one month."

George watched his son as he made the announcement and Bucky went from surprised to delighted to confused.

Tony protested "Wait a damn minute, George. You expect her to honor her agreement after everything that has happened and the reality that your son shares a good portion of the blame for everything she's lost?

I don't know if I can allow that to happen."

Y/N kept her feelings closer to the vest, revealing nothing. She was still wary about trusting Bucky but she wasn't prepared to handle her fathers entire empire on her own and she trusted George. She also felt she could trust Steve in a pinch.

"Tony, Tony" she tried to stop him. When he looked at her he saw the resolve in her eyes "I know you're trying to look out for me but I already agreed to move forward with the marriage. I can't, I don't want to do this alone. I would much rather be spending time with my horses than all this mess. Bucky can run the business so that I'm only needed occasionally."

Tony shook his head "But what about-"

She smiled softly at him. "I've looked at all the angles and this is the least disagreeable way to keep the business going and have a little bit of a life separate from it. It'll be ok. I'll be ok" she said firmly.

Loki looked at her, concerned. He knew Thor's death hit her harder than she was willing to admit. When she returned his gaze he raised his eyebrows in question, was this really what she wanted to do? "Y/N? Are you sure about this, love? Heimdal and I would be happy to help you until you are ready to stand on your own."

Y/N smiled at Loki "I know and your friendship means the world to me but you've lost important members of your family because of me. I couldn't ask for anything else from you."

Loki shook his head "You didn't ask, I'm offering"

"I know but I also know you have some reorganizing to do yourself. Don't worry, I'll call if I need you. I promise."

Loki sighed "Very well but if I find out you're having trouble and you don't call me, we're going to have a problem"

She nodded in response.

Bucky finally remembered how to talk and had to throw in his 2 cents. "Wait, I never agreed to anything."

Y/N smirked at him "Of course you did. We both signed a contract that included marriage. I know everything has been chaotic but it hasn't been that long. We might need to tweak it a bit but it's still binding. Unless you aren't a man of your word" she looked at him with her eyebrow raised, questioning.

Bucky stuttered under her gaze "N-N-No! I am a man of my w-word. I just, you, but we-" he stopped to take a breath and gather his thoughts. "We need to speak privately. After this meeting." And sat back, arms crossed, face stoic except for the slight up turn at the corners of his mouth and a twinkle in his eyes.

Y/N nodded "Good. Now, Loki has agreed to take Yelena in on a probationary basis, once she's fully healed of course. She risked her life to give us information on Dreykovs plans which helped us take him down so we believe she deserves a chance. One chance" she looked at Yelena seriously, who nodded in response.

"Now, about dividing Pierce's territory...."

They spent 5 hours at that table, arguing over who would control what as the available territory was divided. Finally in the wee hours of the night an agreement was reached. No one was really happy but that's how compromises usually work.

Y/N was starting to feel the strain of being up for so long. She was still recovering from the loss of her arm and the grief from losing Thor was trying to push past the walls she had built up in recent days.

Bucky noticed that she was wobbling, straining to hold herself up at the table and he spoke up

"I think we need to call it a night." He glanced at his watch "It's past 3am and none of us have slept much in the last few days."

Everyone nodded and grumbled but Loki had one more concern "Does anyone know what happened to Zemo?"

Y/N roused for a moment "You guys lost Zemo?" She shivered "But he's vile. Might come after me, he never got over being dumped. I-"

Bucky shook his head "We will get him and Y/N, I promise I will keep you safe."

Everyone said their goodbyes and made to leave as Bucky helped Y/N upstairs. She was almost falling asleep as they walked up the stairs. He helped her get comfortable in his bed and tucked her in, kissed her on the forehead and whispered. "I promise I'll keep you safe."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days later. Y/N still hadn't had a talk with Bucky. Every time he was around she went to his bedroom and locked the door, refusing to even acknowledge anyone who tried to speak with her.

Y/N had barely left Bucky's bedroom, leaving him with the lumpy fold out sofa in the den. She slept most of the time or would just lay there staring at the ceiling. Even her mother couldn't get her to eat much.

Today she had to get up. Today was Thor's funeral. The thought of it made her feel sick and she couldn't keep anything down at all that day.

She just went through the motions. Dressed up in a black dress with a matching veiled hat and black pumps she looked in the mirror and told herself. She could do this, she tried to convince the tired woman who she barely recognized.

The cemetery was crowded with cars, mostly black SUV's. There were so many people Y/N felt lost, gripping her mother's arm tightly. She was still unable to process the grief, the ache from losing Thor too fresh in her mind.

Bucky came up to her other side and gently rested his hand on her back, relieved that she didn't shrug him off this time. He guided them towards the grave site and was relieved when he saw Loki speaking quietly with his sister, Hela.

Loki saw them coming and excused himself from Hela to greet Y/N. "Y/N? Love? Are you alright?" He pulled her into his arms but she stood their stiffly, not returning his hug.

He pulled back to look at her face and she nodded woodenly, whispering "I'm fine" as tears welled up in her eyes.

Loki led her to the front row of seats and sat her down next to him, her mother and Bucky on her other side.

Bucky sat next to Y/N for the service, holding her flesh hand with his vibranium one. When the casket was being lowered she squeezed his hand and he gently returned it, so she knew he was there.

Her shoulders were shaking with the sobs she was trying to hold in but it all became too much and she couldn't anymore. Loud, gut wrenching sobs broke through and she couldn't stop them.

Y/N felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest and there was nothing left but emptiness. Thor had been by her side for years, starting as her trainer then friend then blossoming into something neither one of them wanted to deny, even though they knew the risks. No one knew her like he had and that loss felt like more than she could bear after everything else.

Y/N collapsed next to Thor's grave "N-n-no, I c-can't leave him here. It's t-too cold in the ground. Please don't make me leave him alone. I can't." She looked up at Bucky as he sat on the ground next to her "please, Jamie. Don't make me" she fainted and fell into his arms.

Chapter 17

@bigphattygyal @cjand10 @lokiandbuckysdoll

@kimomoraba @avery199 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @esposadomd @sebsgirl71479

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #mob!au #angst with a happy ending #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff

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thetarttfuldickhead · 5 months

Text

A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.

Masterpost / AO3

How the fuck could it be half five already? Keeley glared her screen in silent reproach, but it stubbornly refused to change to a more reasonable hour. She’d be late for drinks with Rebecca now, although Rebecca could hardly be mad at Keeley for being so hard at work that she lost track of time.

Yawning a little, she closed her laptop and shook the tension out of her shoulders. She was proud of Sam for taking a stance, she really was, but it had created something of a professional tangle for her, and she’d spent the past five weeks trying to deal with the fallout of that and find them a new shirt sponsorship deal. She was so close to finalizing something with Bantr, and wouldn’t that be something? Show everyone that Rebecca’s trust in Keeley was completely justified.

“Hi Keeley.”

She looked up, and there was Jamie, standing in the doorway with a new Gucci jacket and a small smile.

Keeley returned the latter easily. “Hey Jamie! What are you still doing here? I thought training ended early because you have a game tomorrow.”

“It did, yeah, but I’m here to pick up Dani. He had a late session with the physios and his car is at the garage.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh, yeah? That’s nice of you.”

He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed, but looking pleased too. “It’s nothing. Gotta be a good team mate, right?”

“Yeah.” And she smiled again, a little wider and a little softer this time.

It made her glad, that he seemed to be doing so well. They hadn’t talked much since she dropped him off in Dr. Fieldstone’s office – she’d been to busy with work to talk very much with anyone – but from what she’d seen, he’d been making a lot of progress with the team, and maybe with himself too. The swagger was still there, of course, and some of the careless arrogance, but it seemed tempered – at least sometimes – with glimmers of the other, softer Jamie, the one that she used to be the only one allowed to see.

She’d loved him for those glimmers (as well as for the sex and the pure fun that Jamie could be, when he wasn’t busy being an arsehole). She was glad others were getting the chance to witness them as well.

“You working late, then?” he asked, stepping inside and absentmindedly picking up at the pink peonies on her low cupboard. “Or are you planning Christmas presents? Bet you’re getting Roy something really cool, eh?”

Keeley frowned at the abrupt question and the unexpected – and unexpectedly friendly – mention of Roy. Jamie sounded perfectly casual, but since when had he ever been casual about Roy? Back when him and her were dating, he’d said the older player’s name with just as much venom as Roy tended to say Jamie’s now, when he deigned to mention Jamie at all. (These days, Roy made a point of pretending to be completely unaware of his existence. Sometimes Keeley got the sense that he was dying to ask her about Jamie, how he was doing, but held himself back for vague and no doubt very reasonable and not at all stupidly macho reasons.)

“I hadn’t really thought about that yet, to be honest,” she said carefully. “I’ve been really busy with work. But maybe an experience rather than a thing, you know? Not like he needs more stuff.” Maybe he needed a little bit of colour in his wardrobe, but she’d yet to convince him of that. Not that she’d tried very hard; what Roy wore was Roy’s business, and he looked fucking fit in black anyway.

Jamie nodded along as she spoke. “All right, yeah, yeah, sounds good. Maybe some concert tickets, eh? Do you know if he’s still into Sade?”

What? “I didn’t know he was into Sade.”

Jamie’s eyes widened in what she could only describe as alarm. “Oh, no, no, not me either. Well, I mean, maybe I read it somewhere. But, uh, I don’t know, it was probably someone else, anyway. Steven Gerrard, maybe. Yeah, that’s it, it was Gerrard.”

“Okay.” For a long moment, Keeley just looked at him. “Why are you asking me about Roy’s Christmas presents?” she eventually asked. Was Jamie jealous that she’d been buying Roy and not him gifts this year?

“Uh, no reason. Just making conversation, innit? And I just thought, he must be hard to shop for, ’cause he’s a grumpy old twat who hates everything.”

“Roy doesn’t hate everything! He likes loads of stuff!”

Improbably, Jamie brightened at that. ”Yeah? Like what?”

He was watching her intently, like he really, truly wanted to hear the answer.

This was fucking odd. Keeley cocked her head to the side. “What’s going on, Jamie?” she demanded, pulling out her serious voice to let him know she wasn’t fucking around.

His hands flew up, as if in apology or submission. “Nothing! Nothing’s going on, I was just— I mean— Hey, is that Dani over there? I, uh, need to go talk to him about… about football. Yeah. And I’m taking home too, so I have to go. Give my best to Roy, yeah?” He paused, scrunching his face up as he considered what he’d just said. “No, I mean, don’t give my best to Roy. I mean, don’t give him anything. Better not mention me at all, really.“ And he flashed her a quick smile, the fluster not completely hiding the shy affection there. “Bye, Keeley.”

“Bye Jamie,” she replied uncertainly, staring after him as he scampered off. What the fuck had that been all about?

Then her eyes fell to her phone and the time on the display, and she cursed loudly. Now she was really going to be late.

#one third done and i am officiallly losing control over this thing #if i can write another chapter tonight and three tomorrow i MIGHT make it through next week #pray for me #keeley jones #jamie & keeley #fic #my stuff #jamie's christmas carol

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

His + Hers

Summary | You didn’t want a bodyguard and certainly didn’t need one. Bucky didn’t want the job. But as soon as the two of you meet, all bets are off.

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.2k

Warnings | language (including light degradation, possessive!Bucky, smut (oral - f receiving, piv) - minors dni or you will be blocked

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I don’t need anyone to watch over me,” rolled eyes and loudly snapped gum. Crossed legs and an anxiously jiggling foot. The aging clock ticked loudly as your gaze burned into the giant dual monitors that shielded the man on the other side. He had just oh so casually dropped some horrible news to you.

What was his name? Jeff? Jeffrey? Jefferson? It didn’t matter. Funny. For a man that you’d seen more often than your father in recent years, you’d think you might have remembered his name. Despite all that you still hadn’t seen him more than four, save five, times.

“Those are your father’s wishes.”

“Then why isn’t he here telling me this?”

“He’s a very busy man.”

“A man too busy to see own daughter, his own child, always work, work, working,” you spat, “what he could be doing that’s so important that he couldn’t even spare me fifteen minutes of his time?”

“He’s-”

“It was a rhetorical question,” you stood up and grabbed your bag, “sometimes it still shocks me that a man that claims he loves me so much he barely speaks to me, sees me. I don’t want this bodyguard - if you send them to me I will simply send them away. Don’t waste my time or theirs.”

“Your father is going to send someone regardless of your wishes, you must know this by now.”

“Tell him if he’s so insistent upon me being chaperoned like a puppy that he can come and talk to me himself,” you threw your shoulders back as you tried to chase away emotions or feelings. This was not the time or place for them, “see you in another six months for so.”

“Miss -”

You slammed the door shut before he could say anything else.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bucky’s groan was heavy - irritated - as he trudged up the stairs to the ninth freaking floor. Of course you couldn’t live somewhere near the bottom. Of course the elevator was broken, “I’m gonna murder you, Wilson.”

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he calmed himself with every single step. Left foot, right foot, and repeat. Before he knew it, he arrived on your floor, less angry but still annoyed.

Bucky looked around for your apartment number, finding it quickly but wishing he hadn't. It was supposed to be a simple job - hang around you for a little while until things calmed down around your father. There was never any huge threat to you, but you were to be kept safe anyway. Typical rich people, he practically rolled his eyes. Complete idiot, he sighed at himself. He could have walked away from the gig easily, but things had been quiet after everything in New York and he needed something fresh. Naturally he’d say yes to this when Sam mentioned the job to him.

Once he found your apartment he slowly trudged through the hall, his mind all but made up about you already. You were going to be nothing more than a spoiled little brat. He looked at the golden number above your door and sighed heavily before knocking loudly.

For a few moments, nothing but silence met his ears before he finally heard what he was sure was annoyed grumbling inside accompanied by soft footsteps. The door was whipped open and Bucky came face to face with you.

Your brows knitted together as you studied him before crossing your arms over your chest, “can I help you?”

“James Barnes,” his name practically came out as a sigh. You raised your eyebrows at him but remained silent.

“And?” you asked as you moved to close the door, “I’m in the middle of my fifth zoom meeting of the day and annoyed and hungry. Thanks for wasting my time. Have a fantastic day.”

Before you could slam the door in his face, Bucky stuck his foot in the doorway and prevented you from closing it. A huff escaped your lips as you glared at him through the crack, “your father sent me. I’m supposed to look after you.”

“Ahh yes,” you rolled your eyes and frowned, “the baby-sitter my father hired. I told him and his assistant that I don’t want - or need - anything to watch me. I’m fine. So if you don’t mind you can leave. I’m busy and don’t have time to deal with you.”

“You don’t pay me sweetheart,” he scoffed lightly as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. You wanted a challenge? He’d give you one, “and as long as that’s the case, I stay.”

“I’ll double whatever he paid you.”

“Oh honey, I doubt you could ever afford that.”

“What can I do to get you to leave?”

“Nothing.”

“It really doesn’t seem like you want to be here either so why don’t we both do ourselves a favor and cut the shit?”

“Not until your father tells me it’s okay to leave,” he smirked, “I don’t take orders from little girls, sweetheart. Nor do you pay my bills.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a bitch,” your mouth opened into a little pout as you attempted to shut the door on his foot, “you can shut the door, it won’t hurt me. I’ll just tear it down if I have to.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Want to find out?” he asked as you threw your head back and sighed at the ceiling. Yes and no. You wanted to push his buttons and see how far you could press. But you also didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Instead you slowly, ever so reluctantly opened the door, refusing to move but motioning for him to come in. He practically sauntered in with a victorious little smirk on his lips, “good girl.”

You were to let him have it when he turned around to face you and finally got the chance to study him. And your jaw almost hit the floor. Fuck.

He was handsome - dark hair and the bluest eyes you’d ever seen with a five o’clock shadow. He was dressed in very well fitting jeans, along with a henley and leather jacket. So casual but he managed to make it look so good. For a moment you thought he looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place. Maybe you’d seen him around somewhere.

Well, this presented a whole new predicament. This would have been so much easier if he hadn’t been one of the most gorgeous men you’d laid eyes on.

“Like what you see?”

“I’m not into old men,” you cocked your head to the side and watched him with a smirk. Bucky almost tripped up and let an emotion slip but instead he remained pointedly neutral as he looked you up and down.

It would have been easier to dislike and hate you entirely if you weren’t so damn cute. You were dressed in a comfy, oversized sweater and joggers and big fuzzy socks - casual and cute but effortlessly so. It was a challenge not to stare.

“Whatever you say,” he held up his hands in mock defeat as you became momentarily placated, “what’s the plan for today?”

“I have a job and things to do,” you huffed as you pushed past him, “so just do something or whatever and stay out of my way. If you insist on being here.”

“I do.”

“This is going to be fucking hell, isn’t it?”

“It can be whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart!”

“Sure thing, doll.”

"I hate you already.”

“The feelings’ mutual, honey.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hating Bucky was a full time job. Bucky having to chaperone you through all of your shenanigans was a full time job. Both of you were incredibly stubborn and damn near made the job impossible.

You'd be lying if it said he wasn't attractive and that you hadn't thought about him. Especially late at night. Alone in bed. But you'd rather die than admit that to him.

Bucky had a feeling he'd break you down eventually; not that he expected anything to come of it. He enjoyed flirting with you and watching you get frazzled and nervous. But you weren't his type. Nuh uh - Bucky Barnes wasn't into pretty little spoiled brats. Even if they weren't attractive and smart and genuinely kind underneath it all.

That wasn't part of the job. Which was why he never let it go past anything that could be deemed as flirtatious.

Just as he vowed to break you down and just admit you liked him, you might have had a little goal of your own…

"Come on," Bucky sighed as he paced around your living room, waiting for you to come out of the bedroom so you could pizza and watch movies. It had become somewhat of a Friday night tradition, reluctantly so. It was hard to get out and have a lot of fun when you had a silent, intimidating brooding man following you around, "how long does it take to change?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you opened your bedroom door and stepped out, slipping on your heels, "I'm ready."

Bucky's eyes widened as he looked you over. You were wearing a little black dress and fuck me heels along with ruby red lips and a full face of makeup. He fought back a little growl as you smirked at him, "what the fuck are you wearing?"

"Its called a dress, genius."

"To get pizza so we can come back and watch movies?"

"That's not the plan," you straightened up and walked past him, grabbing your purse and jacket.

"You said-"

"I lied," you stated the obvious, "I'm going out to finally have some fun. Without you."

"I'm coming with you," he crossed his arms over his broad chest as you tried not to stare, "that's the job, sweetheart."

"And I'd like to actually have fun and get laid," you threw your hands up, "its hard to do that with you breathing down my neck constantly! If you insist, can you at least like stay ten feet away. Give me a fucking break."

His breath had hitched in his throat as soon as he heard the words get laid and he worked to keep it together. He sighed as he forced himself not to imagine you underneath, naked and begging for more.

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly, "ten feet only."

"Thank fuck."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One drink had turned into two which easily turned into three and after that you’d both lost count. Bucky had been sitting at the bar, a singular, but arbitrary drink in his hand as he watched you get progressively looser as the evening wore on. His steely gaze almost never left yours as he watched you chat up people around you. You were naturally extroverted, and definitely a flirt - but then again maybe that was the alcohol - and it wore Bucky out trying to keep an eye on you. He wasn’t terribly concerned about what was going on, but still, he was a man that took his job seriously.

It wasn’t until he decided that it was fine to let you out of his sight for a few moments only to turn back and found you missing. A growl bubbled up in his throat as he scanned the tightly packed pace and found you in the middle of the dance floor. You were pressed against a man that had been eyeing you up since you’d gotten there, mouths smashed together as you kissed him like your life depended on it. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and his hands were on your ass the entire time.

As soon as you ground up against him, something in Bucky snapped. He threw back the rest of his drink and quickly made his way over to you. The people in his path parted like the seas when they noticed the predatory expression in his eyes. Before you could even realize what had happened, you felt a hand tightly squeeze your shoulder. A gasp left your lips as Bucky pulled you away from your newfound friend.

“What the fuck!” you glared at him as the man that just had his hands all over you grew visibly nervous. Bucky grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close, “Bucky!”

“Keep your filthy fuckin’ hands off of her, you understand?” he growled at the man as he just nodded, “I ever see you near her again and you’re dead. You leave my girl alone.”

Bucky shoved him away and the man practically skittered across the bar and out the door without so much as a single glance back. Breathing angrily, he turned around to find you staring at him in awe, arms over your chest. You were suddenly incredibly sober, “what the hell was that? I’m not your fucking girl, Bucky.”

“We’re going home. Now,” he reached for your hand and held your wrist in a tight grip as he dragged you without another word. You wanted to argue with him and fight back, but there was something about his possessive nature that had sent a shiver down your spine and a rush of warmth to your core as you let him pull you along like a ragdoll.

Maybe your dangerous little plan was finally going to turn into reality.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you going to finally tell me what’s going on?” you asked as you walked back into your apartment, trailing after Bucky and slamming the door shut, “you chased off my only chance of-”

Before you could say anything else, Bucky’s hands found your waist and he crashed his lips onto yours in a bruising tangle of tongue and teeth. You responded with a surprised moan as he backed you up against the wall, making sure you didn’t hit your head.

“He’s a fuckin’ boy,” he insisted as he lightly gripped your throat, causing you to part your lips as you fought back a moan, “he wouldn’t have made you cum. Probably doesn’t even know where your pretty little clit is.”

“And you would?” you challenged, already knowing exactly where this was leading. Something in your mind told you that this was wrong and you should have stopped it, but the larger part of you really just wanted him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it for weeks and weeks now, touching yourself late at night to the thought of him. Bucky smiled at you - a dangerous, toothy, wicked thing causing you to swallow thickly, “I don’t think you could. You’re all talk, Bucky. Probably haven’t even been laid since the 40s.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want this too, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear before trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin, making it a point to mark you up. That way everyone would know you were his. He rutted his lips lightly against yours, and you could already feel how hard he was, “I see the way you look at me - I know you’ve thought about me. Probably touched that pretty pussy of yours and wished it was my cock, huh little girl?”

“Bucky,” his name was nothing more than a whimper of your lips as you tried to reach down and touch yourself. He was quick to grab your hand and pull it away. You whimpered as he just chuckled darkly. Oh, how easily he could break you down with just a few words, “please. Need you.”

“I’ll give you what you need,” he swore as he watched you with hungry eyes. He shimmied up your dress and moved to touch you. His smirk only grew when he noticed you’d forgone panties, “look at you, such a little slut. You didn’t even put on panties? You really wanted this, didn’t you? Were you just hoping I’d touch you? I bet you had this whole thing planned out - just wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you?”

You looked at him with wide doe eyes but remained silent as you tried to play coy. But he was having none of it, and grabbing your jaw, “answer me.”

“Mhmm..,just want you,” you admitted as he slowly let go before grabbing both of your wrists in his vibranium hand and pinning them above your head, “just touch me.”

And he did - slowly, he dragged his fingers through your folds, smirking at how wet you already were, “oh honey, you’re practically dripping. So wet already, and I’ve barely even touched you. Such a good little slut.”

Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of him circling your clit slowly before feeling your soaked folds and sliding a thick finger inside. A small sound of surprise reached his ears as you almost rutted into his hand and he easily slid another finger in. The stretch from his fingers was enough to spark the warmth in your belly as you bit your lip to keep from whining.

“Look at you, such a needy little thing,” you could hear the smirk in his voice as he fucked with his fingers, “but you’re not going to cum on my fingers. I’m going to see if you taste as sweet as you look. Gonna make ruin that pussy for anyone else. You’re mine - you understand?”

“‘m yours,” you whimpered as he let go of your hands and slowly sank to his knees in front of you. His large hands, a contrast of warm and cool, splayed on your thighs before slowly traveling up to your hips and grabbing them in a bruising grasp. This man was really working to make sure he would remain all over you. He pressed a few kisses to your thighs before stopping at your mound, and you could feel his warm breath fanning across on your pussy, “please.”

“That’s right, you can be a good girl,” he didn’t even hesitate for a moment before diving in and licking a stripe up your folds, causing sparks to shoot throughout your spine. You could feel him smirking against you at the immediate effect he had as he ate you out like a man starving.

Bucky Barnes was not a shy man when it came to eating pussy. He licked and suckled on your clit as he let two of his cool vibranium fingers slide into your pussy. He crooked them just right, effortlessly finding your g-spot as your knees threatened to buckle. No one man had ever made you feel this good before, nor so easily.

“F-fuck,” you hissed as he pulled back and look at the blissed out expression on your face, “more please.”

“Look at you pretty little thing,” he grinned as he pressed a few wet, sloppy kisses to your mound. He pulled his fingers from you before reaching up and practically ripping your dress off. If you’d hadn’t been so close to cumming, you would have yelled at him, but in the moment you didn’t care. Especially not as his hands found your breasts and massaged them before he played with your pert nipples, causing you to arch into his touch, “not wearing a bra either. You are bad.”

“‘m so close,” you whined as he just smirked at you. Before you could say anything else he slapped your pussy, causing you to jump slightly before you keened into his touch, silently asking for more.

“You like that, honey?” he teased as you nodded with closed eyes, your mouth forming a small o. He repeated the motion before he grabbed your ass and buried his face back into your pussy. You moaned into his touch, bucking your hips against his mouth as he made all the most sinful noises as he ate you out like his life depended it on. He worked pure magic with only his tongue and he soon had you seeing stars as your legs started to shake around him. He anchored you to him and kept you from falling down as he brought on your orgasm, “that’s it honey. You’re going to cum all over my face, going to taste all that pretty pussy has to offer.”

“F-f-fuck,” you reached down and carded a hand through his dark hair as you held him against you, “jesus.”

“Cum for me,” he commanded and you did just as you were told, crying out his name like a prayer as you felt your release wash over you. Bucky stayed between your legs as you came all over him, cleaning up every little bit you had, not stopping until you were begging him to stop from the over stimulation, “tastes like fuckin’ candy. Best pussy I ever tasted.”

“Jesus,” your chest was heaving as he kissed his way up your body. He stopped at your lips and offered you a victorious little smirk, “you’re an asshole but at least you know how to eat pussy.”

He grabbed your chin in his hand and forced you to look at him, “you’re mine - this pussy is mine and no one else’s, you understand, little brat?”

“Ruin me then,” you raised your eyebrows before you kissed him again, trying to beat him at his own little game. But it was no use - he was easily more dominant and held control over you, “make me yours.”

“Turn around,” he growled as he flipped you in his arms and pressed you against the wall. You moaned as his hands mapped out every curve of your body before you felt the sharp sting of his hand on your ass. Just to spur him on a little more, you bounced your ass and he slapped you a few more times before massaging your skin to soothe the pain, “you like it when it hurts. God, you’re perfect. My little slut.”

“Please fuck me. Need you so bad,” you practically whined but quickly grinned when you heard him undo his belt and pants before he pulled his cock out. He groaned in your ear as you heard him stroke himself a few times.

“‘m so fucking hard, baby,” he ran the tip of his cock through your folds and you could already feel how big he was, “got me leakin’ already. Thought about you and that smart little mouth so many times. Always cum so hard when I think about you. Can’t wait to see how good this pussy feels squeezing my cock. You’re going to take all of me, little thing.”

He coated his length with your arousal - you were already so wet again - before slapping his cock against your ass. You tried to reach around so you could touch him but he slapped your hand out of the way.

“Put your cock in me,” you practically begged and before you could say anything else, he plunged into you, causing you to practically scream in surprise. He didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed inside of you, feeling like he was practically splitting you apart. The burn quickly faded away as you moaned and clenched your walls around him, “fuck, you’re so big.”

“Did you expect anything else, pretty baby?” he whispered in your ear before grabbing your hips again. He slowly pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back into you with no warning. You clawed at the wall as he set a brutal pace, slamming his hips into yours over and over again, letting you have almost no room to breath. The only sounds that left your lips were small whimpers and mewls he fucked you to an inch of your life.

You felt the coolness of the vibranium snake around your body before he found your clit. You let him press you against the wall as he pounded into you, and you quickly left your second orgasm start to bubble up in your tummy.

“Taking my cock so well,” he praised as he slowly played with your clit. He was not shy about being loud and moaning, all while murmuring filthy praise into your ear, “so tight - so perfect. This pussy was made for me.”

“More,” you begged in between breaths, “harder, please.”

“You want it harder, pretty baby? You’re not gonna be walkin’ after this,” he smirked before he picked the pace and fucked you even harder than before, which you hadn’t even thought possible, “good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Mhmm,” you agreed with a wistful smile, a fucked out expression on your face as you felt his cock twitch inside of you as your walls started to clench around him, “please, please, please.”

“Gonna fill you up,” he said through gritted teeth as he slowed his thrusts, making them slower and deeper than before, “gonna make sure you know who you belong to.”

It was a few more thrusts before you came again, crying out as the pleasure rippled through your body. Bucky came quickly after, grunting as he came inside of you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum. He fucked you through it all, not stopping until you were feeling boneless and he had filled you with every last drop.

He easily caught you just as you were about to collapse in his arms and pulled you against his chest as he pressed a few kisses to your shoulder. You reached behind you and carded a hand through his arm, scratched at his scalp as he continued to kiss your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you said as you tried to catch your breath, “that was incredible.”

“I told you I’d ruin every other man for you,” he slowly pulled out and turned you around so you were facing him. You put a hand under your chin and turned your face up to his, “you’re mine.”

“I’m your girl,” it was like music to his ears as you reached between your thighs and swiped his cum mixed with your arousal up and sucked it clean off your finger, “my pussy is yours and your cock is mine.”

“Good girl, “ he praised with a wicked smile, “now get on your knees and put that pretty mouth to use.”

“Yes sir.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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@qhbr2013 @greeneyedblondie44 @april-showers-and-flowers @softboiipascal @im-an-adult-ish @patzammit @niki-xie @xxlovingfandomsxx @startrekkingaroundasgard @welcometothepedroverse @actual-spawn-of-satan @punkerthanpascal @lazybeeches @someday-when-you-leave-me @justgivemethekeys @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @neptunesglow @artsymaddie @haildoodles @amneris21 @star017 @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater @its–fandom–darling @ayamenimthiriel @alyispunk @djarinbarnes @edencherries @ashamed23 @sunsetskywalkerr @nikkixostan @spookispunk @cable-kenobi @hrtsgetbrkn @ironicfoxes @iilwjbb @cc13723things @thenormreedus @gooddaykate @natthebattygeologist @sociallyantisocialbutterfly @n3ssm0nique @daughterofthenight117 @riddikulus-obsessions @imaginelover88 @saint-bvcky @banana-cheese-cake @sleep-tight1 @missstef23 @moonlacebeam @asylummara @wakandabiitch2 @hoodedbirdie @mysweetlittledesire

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you

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hauntedelation · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐖𝐒!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭: 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — Bucky was never told what Netflix and Chill meant.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — Black Female Reader x Bucky Barnes

𝐀/𝐍 — It’s been a while since I’ve seen the films Bucky is in. I watched some clips from the new show and fell in love with how he was presented. I hope that he and Sam don’t sound too ooc. This is a bulleted format, something that I've thought about lately w/ TFATWS!Bucky.

A friend of mine (here's their Tumblr! Thanks Vic <3) was expanding on this with me last night and their additions are marked in bold. No beta, really, I apologize for any errors!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 2.1k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — minor descriptions of smut, Buck’s got a praise kink, unspecified age difference (the man is 106 y’all), fluff, warm feelings and anxiety, Sam is his literal wingman.

Here is a link back to my masterlist, please enjoy!

──────✧──────

Bucky Barnes meets you on a dating app. And of course, Sam had done a large part in helping him set it up. The man’s profile appeared a little different. There were nicely taken photos, but many he didn’t smile much in.

You were drawn, despite his rigid nature. You figure it was something about the energy put out. But you had no real explanation.

Upon meeting, and after much encouragement on Sam’s part (including his therapist), Bucky realizes that he can’t outright explain everything to you. At least, not so soon.

Those words are a full stop on his tongue, and he found a way to change his story into something that isn’t a total lie. He wasn’t sure when he would be comfortable.

All that mattered was that with you he had all the time he needed.

He remembers stiffening one day when you reached out to gently touch his left hand, you were lost in speaking about your day then.

Knowing he can’t feel a thing, he was inaudible when he watched your thumb brush over his gloved fingers.

You appeared completely perceptive as if all you needed to do was look at him. There hadn’t been once where you pressed him on any topic.

The message he tried to put out is more than well-received. He is reserved, distant, but he inches just close enough for you to spend longer dates with him.

Close enough to where he learns to text you, starting out rather confusing for him. Eventually, the man calls, preferring to hear your voice.

In the beginning, you had the idea that he intended for both of you to take your time. So, you treated this bond as a friendship during the first few months.

You would coax him out of his own head, gradually showing him your favorite things and asking him about his. You noted a fair amount about Barnes.

His excuse (lie) to you of why he hasn’t seen any films or other media seemingly ever, was that his lifestyle kept him busy.

You didn’t question him when most of his music choices were from the forties. He remembers you complimenting him, “I like it, Buck. Your taste seems to be for the more meaningful things. You’re like an old soul.”

He found himself smiling at you, adoration spilling into his lungs watching you look over his favorite books, Billie Holiday playing on the speaker.

Around you, he could feel his nerves stand on end but it was not as if he was overwhelmed.

He was losing himself in you, everything about you who you were, and what made you happy. He tried to hold all of that back and keep it to himself. What if she found it was too much?

The man didn’t want to ruin what he had begun building with you. Unknowingly, Buck didn’t see that the feelings were very much mutual.

So you show him things he may have missed, you watch his reactions. You couldn’t get enough of the softness in his eyes when he finds something he likes, or his pensive reflections on another piece of media.

──────✧──────

One day, nearly a year after meeting you, Bucky brings you up casually in a conversation with Sam.

He sits back, using a rag to wipe at his hands and he thinks back to the time he spoke to you last.

You mentioned something about “Netflix” and he thinks he’s heard it before only he wasn’t quite sure what it was. Not ready to admit he didn’t, he agreed to the proposition.

Buck had recalled how you seemed to coyly play with a loose string on your shirt, your body language open.

“She’s showing me what ah…Netflix is the next time that I see her. Isn’t it a television channel?”

Sam stops tightening a bolt on a screw and he sets the tool down. His brows pinch together for a split second however Bucky witnesses a simper grow over his face.

“Man...you do know what that means right?” Sam tilts his head and leans against an object when he looks at him. The man had a twinkle in his eye.

Bucky frowns at Sam, he doesn’t particularly like the way Sam says that, but he says no.

His friend shakes his head and breaks it down for him, “Bucky, you’re going to get some ass.”

Bucky’s face hardens straight away. He counters, “Don’t talk about her like that–” The younger man peers down at that vibranium hand clenching around the dirty rag, and he sighs.

Sam has to hold in a laugh. That’s not what he was insinuating.

Eventually, Bucky gets it. He tries to wrap his head around the idea, but in a way, it made sense to him. Buck remembers back to those nights at the drive-in, a pretty girl on his arm with fire in her eyes.

He’s thinking about it with you, how you would look at him, touch him or what you would sound like. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel dizzy. You had him on clouds even during the occasions he would kiss you.

He knows he’s rusty. And, even though you seemed to understand, it had to have been far longer than he realized since he’s felt all of that. Much longer since he could comprehend that degree of touch. He’s been deprived.

Anxiety fogs his mind, thinking about “what if” or any possible negatives.

Sam remains there for him, he places a hand on his shoulder and looks him in the eye closely, “Just be real with her. From what you’ve told me about her, she will be understanding.”

What follows has to be one of the most embarrassing trips to the drugstore that he’s ever taken, Sam insisting that he was present just to give Bucky advice.

Really the man was looking to tease light-heartedly. How couldn’t he be happy for his friend?

Inside, Buck isn’t entirely calm. He mentally prepares for meeting you once again, speaking with his therapist hesitantly.

‘Do you feel ready for her to see you, James? Intimacy is trust, and the experience can be a lot of not thought over tenderly.’

Buck waited a long time, allowing the woman’s words to sleep into his mind before he placidly said his answer.

──────✧──────

He finds himself at your house the next day, dressed in his normal dark clothing. His dog tags hung under his shirt, bushing against his pounding heart.

You invite him in with the most beguiling outfit the man had ever seen. Under your shorts, your tank top, more of your smooth skin had been exposed to him. He felt like a leper for taking you all in.

Soon you catch him staring midway through a movie, those blue eyes soaking you up. You carefully made a move.

Your soft hands glided over his body, focusing on his hair, his chest, stomach. Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut the lower you went.

He pulled you over him, letting your thighs surround his being and his erection press against your heat.

It took a long time for Bucky to convince himself to remove his shirt. You had already worked yourself down to almost nothing, your breasts exposed to him and pressing so close to his body.

He gazed up at you and knew that all wanted was to feel you.

The scar tissue embedded in his shoulder rubbed against the fabric uncomfortably. He shifted, and he could feel your hands start to wander under the hem of his shirt.

“Wait-Wait, Doll, hold on—“ Bucky pants.

Your angelic face contorted to somewhat cautious, aware. “What’s wrong?” His hands settled on your hips, held you there to him.

“Nothing, nothing. I just…I haven’t exactly…done this in a few decades,” he professed.

Your dark eyes flash with something unreadable within, a perplexing look or maybe amusement. Within a few seconds, he feels you lax against him, untangling your fingers from his hair.

He swears you had to be reflecting on how crazy he sounded. Why did he say a few decades?

“Oh…so you…don’t want this?”

Buck’s hands fall on your thighs perched over his. You’d begun to place more distance between you both, following his uncertainty.

However, when your body moved away, your hips dragged against his, against him. He breathed out a curse and shook his head.

“No, no! I mean—yes! I mean—Fuck, I want this, I want you, Doll…I’m just sayin’ that…I might not be any…y’know, good.”

You find it difficult to believe, but your hand reached up to cradle his stubbly cheek. You let his arms pull you closer to him, placing short kisses on his mouth. “I understand. I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

When you worked him up to where he couldn’t take it anymore, where he was pulling that shirt over his head before any realization.

The air in your home prickled his exposed skin, and he looked away once your eyes fell to his shoulder.

He was sure he was close to passing out then, everything building and the dark feelings surrounding his arm not aiding. Bucky was frozen.

Yet as the seconds ticked on by, your face was amorous. You didn’t try to touch the mangled bunches of tissue or ask any questions about it.

You brushed your palms against his chest and guided him back into the couch. Your full lips left trails all over his neck and jaw.

He watched you pause, how you met his eye before placing feather-light kisses where his body met his arm. You moved over the whirring metal, shutting your eyes as the coolness of its surface felt pleasant on your lips.

Buck's heart pounded against his ribcage, almost painfully and he swore that you could hear it. He held in the surge of emotions that entered his body after beholding that.

“You’re so handsome, Buck. I can’t believe I was lucky enough to meet you." Your breath warmed over his skin as you whispered to him. “Look how wet you’ve got me.’

The man’s cheeks flushed and surely the color bled down his neck. You let him take a deep breath into his lungs, but then your words continued. Every syllable blanketed him.

“Are you alright with...moving forward?”

He fights himself to not answer too eagerly.

──────✧──────

Bucky doesn’t return home until the next morning. He found it difficult to pull away from you after a long night.

He knew that he had to, he cursed to himself recalling that he told Sam he would be back before the end of the night.

There is a glow to Bucky that you had never seen before that early morning. The man had been up all night with you, falling asleep for a few short hours before he woke again and repeated everything.

He felt drunk in bliss, overcome with everything that was you. And you felt it, in his bones, watching it drip off his body.

You couldn’t help your shy smile when you saw the relaxed expression on his face. You said to him, “Feel free to call me when you want to hang out again. I…really enjoyed my time with you.”

He graciously accepted, kissing you lazily at your front doorstep before he dragged himself away.

Bucky knew he was in for it the moment he unlocked the door and there Sam was cooking breakfast in the kitchen.

He bit back a grimace when Sam turned around, eyes taking in the man’s current state.

His hair was a mess, clothes wrinkled, and a warm aura surrounding his body. Bucky feigned a nonchalant expression on his face, sometimes clenching his jaw to avoid all eye contact.

Sam turned the fire on the stove-top down and crossed his arms over his chest, examining his old friend playfully.

“I can’t believe it, man.”

Buck went to the other side of the kitchen looking for a glass, he filled the cup with water and took a few sips. “What do you mean, Samuel?”

His hand rubbed at his stubbled cheek and Sam laughed heartily. “Told you that you were gonna get some ass.”

Bucky had gone to say something but was caught up in his words.

“Sam I—" His face burned dark crimson.

He shook his head and quickly excused himself for a shower, ignoring Sam's exuberant voice as he sauntered down the hall.

His friend returned to cooking. The smirk on his face was not going to leave anytime soon.

Sam knew he would ask Buck after his shower when the man was planning on introducing you.

──────✧──────

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — @missyellowbirdie @emyearns @brandycranby (Tagged who I thought would be interested)

──────✧──────

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x black reader #black reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #tfatws #bucky barnes x you #female reader #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan characters #TFATWS!Bucky concept

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gamerwoo · 3 years

Text

[SKZ Imprinted] Minho: One-Eighty

anonymous asked: HI! CONGRATULATIONS! you deserve each follower you're writings are amazing (even tho I don't have the time to chatch up with TFTP nor the Xperiments but I'm dying to) 🥺For the Stray Kids imprinted can I request one for Minho? I don't have anything in mind but like...fluff i guess? I really don't mind I would probably like anything you write.Once again congratulations! And have a happy evening!

Characters: Minho x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, barista au, just a lot of fluff and maybe some humor sprinkled in for funsies, a hint of angst at the end but the ending to this part is still happy i swear

Word count: 4,240

Summary: Minho’s always been a ‘sarcastic asshole’ as his peers call him. He’s a great guy, sure, but let’s just say he’s not the best at making friends. But when he meets you, a whole new world opens up for him, and he wants to learn more about it from you.

a/n: i’ve been listening to strangers like me on repeat all day bc of something else i was working on, so yes this is 100% inspired by that song lmao

Previous | Next | Imprinted Masterlist

Chan returned to the table with their orders, freshly made by Felix -- and partially Sam, but she was mostly focused on inventory at the moment since the café wasn’t too busy. Chan handed out the drinks to their respective owners before he sat down and sipped from his own cup.

“Hey, Felix,” Minho called, sitting on the back of his chair with his feet planted on the part he was actually supposed to sit on. “This sucks, can you remake it?”

Unamused, Felix looked up from the blender he was now cleaning in the sink, “Y’know, it would be a shame if you were to fall backwards and smack your head off the floor, causing you to lose your memory so you can’t be rude to me at work.”

“I’ll push him for a dollar,” Changbin offered casually before taking a sip of his own beverage.

“I’ll pay to push him,” Seungmin scoffed.

“Okay, okay,” Chan tried to settle his pack -- especially before Jeongin showed up because they knew he’d already be in not-the-best mood, “let’s not get started, please. I don’t need all of you wrestling each other in the middle of Felix’s work. It’s good at least one of us has a stable job so let’s maybe keep it that way, yeah?”

“Aeri has a job,” Minho shrugged. “Just make her your sugar mommy.”

“Minho, you’re going to make for a really shitty mate,” Jisung told him.

And it was funny he said that, because it was then that the bell dinged softly. Nobody was paying attention to it -- except Felix, of course -- because then the pack at the table began bickering about how Minho was going to treat his mate.

Nobody was paying attention until you walked by the table to get to the counter, and then you were all Minho could pay attention to. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye, his eyes followed you as you walked up to the counter. His brown eyes widened, his jaw going slack s the world around him faded away, leaving just you and him.

“Uh oh...” Hyunjin giggled.

“Quick, someone push him,” Changbin whispered.

“Sammie!” Felix called to the back. “The new girl’s here!”

“Ooh, and it’s Felix’s new coworker,” Seungmin grinned almost evilly. “This should be good.”

You had applied to work at the café because you wanted some extra money. Would it make it difficult to have a social life since you were already going to school? Yeah, but you weren’t one for going out a lot, anyway. You mostly stayed inside and just texted your friends instead.

The girl who had interviewed you, Samantha, came out from the back and grinned at you, “Hey, _____. Ready for your first day?”

“Well, guess we’ll find out what kind of mate Minho’s gonna be,” Chan chuckled staring at the boy who was still staring intently at you.

It took a lot to drag Minho out of the café, but Chan and Changbin managed to drag him back to the apartment.

With Aya no longer living with Chan, the two boys moved in and took over. Changbin and Minho had to do rock, paper, scissors for the bedroom, but Minho ultimately won. There was that time, though, where her and her mate, Jeonghan got into a bad fight and she moved back in. Minho and Changbin shared the living room, and that was a mess.

Minho laid face-up on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he thought about you. He didn’t expect imprinting to his so hard. For the first time in his life, he was speechless. He wanted to go talk to you, but what was he supposed to say?

“Hello, I’m Lee Minho, and I’m in love with you. Let’s get married.”

No.

“Do you even know how to confess to anybody?” Chan had asked in the car on the way back home. “You’re blunt, but you’re not good at expressing your feelings, either.”

“Yeah, how the hell is that possible?” Changbin had asked.

Minho knew they weren’t wrong. He was the type of guy to blatantly tell someone their shirt was ugly, but at the same time, his previous relationship ended because his boyfriend said he was bad at communicating. Minho himself wasn’t even sure how he could be so upfront but still so awful at telling people how he felt.

So how was he supposed to get you, his mate, to talk to him and ultimately accept him if he couldn’t talk to you?

“See, I told you morning rush isn’t that bad,” Felix grinned brightly at you. “That’s the good thing about working near a college campus: hardly anyone yells at you because everyone our age is full of anxiety.”

You laughed, “Yeah, that’s a perk. But uh, I should get going to--”

“Oh, hey Minho!” Felix cut you off, waving to somebody behind you.

You turned to look at the door, seeing a slightly familiar boy walk in with his hands stuffed in his front pockets. You were pretty sure he was one of the rowdy boys sitting at one of the tables yesterday when you’d walked in.

“Hey, Lix,” he nodded before standing at the counter.

“Just take Minho’s order, then you can clock out, okay?” Felix told you.

You locked eyes with Minho, and he smiled softly. That smile didn’t leave his face as you punched in his order and took his card. It never left until he stepped to the side and Felix began talking to him while making his order so you could go punch out before getting to class.

“So how’s that uh...problem?” Felix asked with a smirk.

Minho rolled his eyes, “Shut up.”

“Have you figured out how to talk to her yet?”

“If I did, don’t you think I would’ve made a move?”

Felix walked up to the counter and slid Minho’s drink over to him, “Can I offer some advice?”

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed. “You were so bad at trying to talk to Sam. If you help me, she’s gonna leave the country.”

“Well it can’t get worse,” Felix shrugged. “It’s not like you have the best track record with girls.”

You caught the butt-end of their conversation as you walked back out, raising your eyebrows, “What about having a bad track record with girls?”

The two boys turned their attention to you. Minho’s low-set brows suddenly raised as his sour expression dissipated when he looked at you.

Felix turned around, and an idea suddenly clicked in his head. He smiled at you before he turned to look at Minho, his smile turning sinister.

Minho gulped.

“Actually, _____,” Felix began, “I think you might be able to help my good buddy, Minho.”

“Ooh, is it girl problems?” you guessed, walking up with your bag slung over your shoulder, placing your palms on the counter as you stood beside Felix and looked between the two boys.

“He’s got a big crush on this girl but he’s never been great with like, expressing feelings and being romantic,” Felix explain with a clearly teasing look on his face, loving that he was embarrassing the hell out of his brother. “Can you teach him that stuff?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as you thought it over. Did you have the time? Would your brother get on your case about it?

Eh, he had been away on a mission for a while, and you didn’t expect him back soon. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt. ...Right?

“I’ll tell you what,” you began with a half-smile, “I can help you after my trigonometry test. I really have to study for it because I’m not doing too hot, so I don’t really--”

“I’m good at trig!” Minho blurted before he could even think over what he was saying. “I can tutor you!”

You blinked a few times at the sudden offer, while Minho was questioning what possessed him to suddenly say that. Sure, he was good at trig, but was he actually ready to be around you and speak to you? Could he manage that? Probably not, but now it was too late.

“R-really?” you asked.

“Perfect!” Felix grinned. “He can tutor you in trig, and you can tutor him in dating. Everybody wins!”

You nodded, aiming your smile at Minho again, “Cool! How does tomorrow afternoon sound? We can meet up here?”

“Yeah, perfect, awesome,” he nodded, hardly processing anything.

“Sweet,” you grinned bigger before you went to the opening at the counter to leave. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Minho!”

You waved before you jogged to the door and left, leaving the cafe with just Felix and Minho. The younger boy looked at Minho with a smirk, reaching over to poke his chest.

“You’re welcome.”

Minho’s loving gaze turned cold as he glared at Felix, “I’ll kill you.”

“What, why?! I got you an in, bro!”

“I don’t know how to talk to her and now I have to!”

Felix just shrugged, “Not my problem.”

The next barista coming to clock in walked in on Minho lunging across the counter to grab Felix by the collar and choke him out.

It was a good thing Minho was tutoring you and didn’t have any work of his own to do because there was no way in hell he’d be able to focus on it. You were just too cute when you were confused and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, even as you leaned over your notebook to scribble down answers that he was trying to help you with -- he originally offered to just give you the answers, but you scolded him for that and said you needed the method of getting said answers to be explained.

“If I don’t know how to do it, how am I gonna pass?” you had asked.

“Easy,” he shrugged, “if you can get your grade up high enough, failing your final won’t even be a big deal.”

“Minho!”

So now here the two of you were: you with your brows furrowed in concentration, and him simply admiring you while you weren’t looking. Then you’d lift your head up, and he’d try to act like he’d been looking around or something while you were busy writing notes.

Outside, his friends just ‘happened to be walking by’ and decided to stop to peer in through the window. Minho was too busy chuckling at something you’d said, but Felix noticed from behind the counter and smirked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile like that,” Seungmin commented.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile,” Changbin scoffed.

“They’re kinda cute, though,” Chan shrugged. “They’re like, so opposite, y’know?”

“Except he turns into a huge softy when she’s around,” Seungmin replied. “She would never know he’s the world’s biggest pain in the ass.”

“He’s not even that bad,” Aeri spoke up. “He’s just a little...sarcastic sometimes.”

Seungmin side-eyed her, “Yeah, I guess that’s a word for it.”

Back inside, you were finally able to close your textbook. While you were enjoying being tutored by Minho -- he was very kind, very polite, really funny, and he explained things in a way you understood and was very patient with you -- you still weren’t too into having to do homework. Nothing could make that fun, not even Minho.

“Okay, so...should we move onto my first lesson?” Minho asked slowly, eyebrows raised.

You let out a little huff as you managed to put your heavy schoolbag on the table and began shoving your work inside, “This was your first lesson.”

“I-- Huh?”

You laughed softly and turned your head to look at Minho. You didn’t know how fast his heart was beating seeing you smile at him like that.

“Lesson one: talk to her. You passed,” you told him.

“But-- But--”

“For these lessons, I’m gonna have you pretend I’m the girl you like,” you explained.

‘How fitting,’ he thought to himself.

“So you’re basically gonna practice on me. We’ll work our way up to like, dates and stuff. Next time I see you, I want you to practice flirting. Okay?”

“You want me to flirt with you?” he asked.

You nodded, “Yup. I mean, unless this whole thing is too weird. I can come up with a new--”

“No!” he blurted.

Outside, the three wolves could hear the conversation and shook their heads at his embarrassing outburst.

“He couldn’t make it more obvious,” Changbin sighed as he facepalmed.

“At least she seems oblivious,” Seungmin shrugged before muttering, “No wonder she’s failing trig.”

Chan whacked him in the shoulder, “Be nice.”

“I-I mean,” Minho quickly tried to compose himself, but his nerves were getting the best of him, “this is fine. I can do that.”

You smiled, “Okay, cool. Then I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Same time and place.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” he nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

You flashed him one last smile as you stood and grabbed your bag. Quickly Chan, Changbin, Seungmin, and Aeri began shoving each other away from the window to hide beside the building, pressing their backs against the brick wall so you wouldn’t notice them.

“She’s coming, shh,” Changbin shushed, hearing your footsteps approaching.

They saw you walk by them, your eyes staying forward the whole time. They thought they were in the clear as you had just barely passed by them without a glance or a word.

“Hi, Minho’s friends,” you greeted them suddenly without a passing glance.

You continued walking to your destination, leaving the four stunned. They pushed themselves away from the wall, watching your back as you carried on down the street.

“How did she know we were here?” Aeri wondered.

“I...don’t know,” Chan replied slowly.

You spent every single day for two weeks together with Minho. The first couple days were spent with him trying to flirt with you. Both of you were surprised by how naturally it came to him. But honestly, Minho realized that when it came to you, the smooth lines that came out of his mouth just made themselves. You were pretty, funny, smart -- there were endless things he could use to flirt.

But flirting was something he already had practice with. He was good with the cheesy stuff where he could smirk and say something smooth, and whoever his target was would swoon, and that was that. But it was all the cute stuff that he was bad at.

So the next step was new to him: small but nice gestures.

“Opening doors, pulling out chairs,” you listed off, “just little things like that. Small things that show you care enough to do those small things.”

That wasn’t anything he was really too familiar with. He’d done things like buy his boyfriend a coffee when they were together, but that was really it. He’d never done little gestures other than that. People were capable of opening their own doors, weren’t they?

“But...why?” he asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do stuff that they can do themselves?”

You shrugged, “Because it’s sweet. It doesn’t matter if they can do it themselves, it’s the thought that counts.”

Just to prove a point, you had gotten up while Minho was in the bathroom to order what he typically got at the café -- you asked Sam to make it extra good -- and had it waiting on the table for him when he got back while you continued to work on the trig problem he briefly explained to you.

“What’s this?” he wondered, picking up the coffee that said his name with a heart under it on the side of it.

“The coffee you like,” you replied. “I got it for you.”

His curious expression melted into a smile as he looked at you, his heart skipping a beat, “But you didn’t--”

He paused, realization hitting as he nodded slowly, “Ohhhh, I get it now.”

From then, on, Minho would do little things for you. Every other day, you had a drink waiting for you on the table with your chair already pulled out. Minho once brought you flowers to work even though he wasn’t even ordering anything from the café. He showed up at your classes a few times to wait for you and walk you to your next one or to your car or have lunch with you.

It quickly became something Minho didn’t consciously think about for an ‘assignment’. He just did it because he wanted to and he wanted to see you. This whole world of cute relationship stuff was new to him, but he loved it when it came to you.

Unknown to him, a lot of this was new to you, too.

Slowly, you moved along, working your way up. You taught him about every cute thing that came with relationships to woo this girl he liked. Until finally, you were nearing the end goal.

He was tutoring you once again, watching you fondly as you scribbled in your book. You never caught him staring, but he was always staring when you weren’t paying attention. He was surprised he even managed to tutor you the last couple weeks without getting distracted or flustered or called out.

When you were finally done with tutoring for the day, you gave Minho his next assignment as you were putting your things away.

“I want you to ask me out,” you told him.

His heart stopped, completely forgetting that you were just assigning him a task. His cheeks turned pink, “Y-you-- What?”

“The date will be like your final,” you explained. “So ask me on a date, plan said date, take me out, and I’ll decide if you’re ready or not.”

Then everything clicked, and he let out a breath. He nodded, trying to not let it show that he had panicked from what you said.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “I can do that.”

“You have a week from the day you ask me to plan the date,” you told him. “But don’t ask me right away. I wanna be surprised.”

“Why?”

You shrugged, “Makes it more realistic. I’ll see you Monday!”

As you turned and walked out of the café, Minho just watched you. He had to take you on a date now? Sure, it wasn’t a real date, but still!

“So what’re you gonna do?” Felix asked, breaking Minho from his thoughts.

Minho turned around to see his brother standing behind the counter, arms resting on it as he looked at the older boy with raised brows.

“I dunno, ask her, I guess,” he shrugged.

Felix let out a sigh, “No, I mean are you gonna confess yet or not? That was kind of the whole point of this, remember?”

No, Minho didn’t remember. He forgot all about that. He was too busy getting wrapped up in the world of being all cute and romantic that he forgot you were basically training him to ask out, well, you.

“You’re gonna ask her out, take her on the fake date, and then what?” Felix asked. “Tell her after the date that she was the person all along?”

Minho’s brows furrowed, “Is that a bad idea?”

“I don’t know, you’re the expert on being cute and romantic now,” Felix chuckled. “You figure it out.”

He had a point. Minho was practicing for two weeks now. He should be able to figure this out himself. And dammit, he was going to make sure to impress you.

Sundays were your day off. You never had anything going on on Sundays. No tutoring, no work, no school. Just you and your TV.

And your brother, who had called you to check in.

You were close with your brother. Though, the last couple weeks, you tried to distance yourself more and more from him. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, you just...started to not really agree with some of his beliefs and morals.

It was the typical “how are you?” “how are things?” “what have you been up to?” kind of conversation for a little while. But then things started heading exactly where you expected.

“Have you heard from Elsie?” he asked, and you could hear the slight annoyance in his tone.

You let out a sigh, “No. I would’ve told you like you told me to.”

You knew that your two siblings didn’t get along. Elsie was adopted into your family and at first, the three of you were close. But some big disagreement happened between her, and your brother and his friends. She ended up leaving home and having no contact with either of you -- not that she had an issue with you, but she didn’t want your brother to end up giving you a hard time. She wanted to keep the issue between her and them, rather than dragging you into it. So for you, she stayed away even though you missed her. She changed her name and left, and you hadn’t heard from her since.

“How’s it going with Minho?” he wondered.

“I’m...working on it,” you decided to say.

“That doesn’t sound too great,” he chuckled. “_____, you know if this is too much for you--”

“No, I got it,” you quickly -- maybe a little too quickly -- reassured him. “He’s not like, too much to handle or anything. It’s just... It’s taking longer than I thought. But it’s working.”

“Good! I’m proud of you!” he said, and he sounded genuine. You knew your brother just wanted you to succeed. This was your first time doing anything like this, and he was rooting for you -- you knew that. “Just let me know if you need any help or anything.”

There was a knock at your door, and you just knew who it was. You paused, staring toward the door.

“Hey, can I call you back later?” you asked. “My food just got here.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he replied smoothly. “See ya!”

The line went dead, and you put your phone down on the coffee table before going to the door. You knew lying to your brother wasn’t your best move -- especially since you knew how much trouble you’d be in if he found out -- but you were nervous to tell him who had actually shown up -- especially when he wasn’t supposed to. Your brother knew Sundays were for relaxing and being alone. He’d probably get worried or suspicious knowing a certain someone had shown up, and then he’d end up coming over. You didn’t need that happening.

You unlocked the door and opened it, revealing a nervous-looking Minho.

“What’re you doing here?” you asked him, genuinely curious.

Minho looked at you with wide eyes as he rubbed his hands together, trying to somehow relieve some of his anxiety. He took a deep breath and tried to remember what he’d rehearsed to say.

But he blanked. So he just spoke.

“I want to take you on a date,” he blurted.

You raised your eyes in surprise. You figured that was what he was here for, but was that really how he was asking?

“Minho--”

“It’s not for the assignment,” he quickly clarified before you could say anything about the assignment. “I’m asking you on a real date -- an actual date. _____, you’re the girl I didn’t know how to talk to.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Minho continued to ramble.

“And I know you wanted me to ask you out on a fake date in some romantic way, but I’d rather be honest and tell you beforehand. And...I don’t know, I think a confession is still pretty romantic, right? So...yeah. I want to ask you on a date, but a real date. I like you, _____. A lot.”

By the time he was done talking, you were laughing softly. Not like you were laughing at him, but you were laughing because you thought the whole thing was silly but in a cute way.

“Yeah, I know,” you admitted.

Minho seemed even more scared now, “You knew?”

You nodded, “I had a feeling. But my answer is yes. Why do you think I butted in? I didn’t know you but I was offering to help.”

“I-I thought it was for trig...”

“No, that was just a bonus,” you shrugged.

“O-oh...” he trailed off as his eyes found the floor, feeling more confused than ever. But his eyes lit up as he looked at you. “But you’ll go out with me?”

“Yeah,” you grinned.

“Cool,” he gave you a relieved smile. “But can I ask...how did you know?”

Maybe you should’ve left that part out. Because what were you supposed to say? You knew because you felt the pull, too? That you knew what that feeling you got when you first saw him was? That you knew he was a werewolf? Then you’d have to tell him everything else about your brother and why you applied for the job at the café in the first place. You’d have to tell him what the original plan was until Minho went and fucked it all up and you started to fall for him.

Maybe you could tell him that later. Maybe when he admitted to you first that he was a werewolf. Maybe. But not now. You wanted to have your moment.

So you just smiled and shrugged, “I just had a feeling.”

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hamsterclaw · 2 years

Text

Sake (Part 4: Namjoon)

This part is for lovely Sam @sahmfanficbts - because you deserve all the Namjoons. (Yes, it’s a multipart fic, but all you really need to know is: Namjoon is a world famous rapper. You fucked on his private jet in part 2. He’s a big fan of your ass).

Yoongi has a business proposition for you. You think working with him is a good decision for your business, if not necessarily your heart.

Pairing: Namjoon x F!reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Non-idol AU, smut, angst

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Sexually explicit scenes, explicit language

Part 1: How it starts

Part 2: Air miles

Part 3: Yoongi

Part 4: Namjoon

You’re stepping out of Yoongi’s bar where the launch party was held when you nearly collide with someone.

‘So sorry,’ you say apologetically, looking up.

You smile as you realise who it is.

‘Namjoon,’ you say warmly.

Namjoon tilts his head at you, leaning down for a kiss.

‘Y/N! I didn’t know you were in town,’ he says.

‘I’m leaving tomorrow,’ you tell him. ‘I had to meet up with a new client.’

You look around him. ‘Where’s your entourage?’ you ask.

Namjoon laughs. ‘I do go places on my own sometimes. I am a grown-ass adult after all.’

‘Yeri says you’re a toddler,’ you reply.

Namjoon snorts. ‘Yeri tries to infantilise me because she has no other way of rationalising my behaviour.’

You laugh.

‘Are you running off somewhere? Want to grab a coffee?’ he asks.

‘Sure,’ you say.

For a celebrity, Namjoon attracts surprisingly little attention. He’s dressed casually in a sweatshirt, leather jacket and jeans, beanie on his head.

He dimples at you over his coffee. ‘Penny for your thoughts?’

‘I was just mulling over if I would be able to tell you’re a celebrity if I didn’t know you,’ you say, tilting your head.

‘You’d probably just think I was some really hot guy,’ Namjoon says.

You laugh. ‘So modest,’ you say.

‘Like I said, you only live once,’ Namjoon says. ‘No point being shy about anything.’

His gaze on you makes you feel a little warm.

‘But you are shy, aren’t you?’ he asks, voice dropping an octave. ‘I remember making you blush over ceviche.’

‘You’ve done a lot of things to me that make me blush,’ you tell him, raising an eyebrow.

Namjoon smiles, slow, devastating.

‘I have no plans tonight,’ he tells you.

‘Don’t you?’ you ask, eyes meeting his.

‘At least, no plans that don’t involve you,’ Namjoon says, quick as a flash.

It takes you a second to work out his meaning.

‘Want to come to mine? I live round the block from here,’ he says.

You look at him, thoughtful.

‘Remember, dropping your panties is always optional,’ he says.

You laugh and take the hand he’s holding out to you.

Namjoon entertains you with an amusing story involving his serious manager Donghyun and a monkey as you walk down the street together.

He leans down a little to whisper in your ear. ‘There’s a man waiting to take a photo of me, just outside my building. I don’t mind if we’re photographed together, but if you’d rather not be splashed across some seedy tabloid, I’ll give you my spare key and you can run ahead.’

‘Shall we give him a show?’ you suggest.

Namjoon grins mischievously at you. ‘I’ve been wanting to grab your ass all day,’ he says, waggling his brows at you.

Namjoon’s large hand slips down your back to firmly grab your ass as you walk into his building.

‘Wait,’ he murmurs. He turns you a little and leads down to kiss you thoroughly, tongue plunging into your mouth, pulling you against him.

When he pulls away you look up at him, a little surprised.

‘Was that part of the show?’ you ask.

‘No, I just really wanted to kiss you. Also, god, this ass,’ he says, giving you another squeeze.

You burst out laughing. ‘You really are a toddler.’

Namjoon frowns at you. ‘Don’t laugh at me. You didn’t want to give me your number. You turned down a threesome with me and Yoongi the first time I asked. You didn’t say ‘yes’ when I asked you to marry me. Do you even like me?’

You look at him, amused. ‘Are you pouting?’

‘Wanna make it up to me?’ he asks.

‘Being cute doesn’t suit you,’ you tell him. ‘You’re too goddamned big.’

Namjoon laughs. ‘I make it fit though.’

You look up at him, outraged and amused at the same time.

‘What? Didn’t I?’ he asks, innocently.

***

Namjoon goes to get you a glass of water, and you admire his bare ass as he walks away.

‘Drink up,’ he says. ‘The night is young.’

You love his confidence.

‘Do you ever doubt yourself?’ you ask, sipping your water, tucking the sheet under your arms to cover your breasts.

Namjoon lays back on the bed next to you, beautifully nude and completely unself-conscious about it.

He props an arm behind his head and runs a finger down your bare back.

‘I do doubt myself, all the time. I wonder if the song I’ve just written is too self-indulgent. I wonder whether my next track is going to chart. I wonder if I post too much on social media.’

Namjoon shrugs. ‘I wonder if you’d still like me if I didn’t say such outrageous things to you.’

‘I wonder if you’re getting tired of me, because I’m sure the last time we met I made you cum twice and this time you’ve only cum once.’

You lean back against the pillows, and he turns onto his side to face you, head propped on his arm.

‘Do you really worry about all those things?’ you ask, softly.

Namjoon lifts an arm, pulling you into his chest.

‘Actually, that last bit was a lie. I’m not worried about you getting tired of me, because I know I’m going to make you cum as many times as you want tonight,’ he says.

You press a kiss onto his chest. ‘I know you’re good for it Namjoon,’ you assure him, smiling.

Namjoon leans back onto his pillow. 'Want ice-cream?'

Namjoon licks the trail of chocolate ice cream that’s dribbled onto your hand. You’re having ice cream in cones because apparently when you’re a world-famous rapper you can get whatever you want, anytime, anywhere.

You press your finger to his plush lips when you realise he’s just licking your hand now.

‘What do you like to read?’ you ask. Namjoon’s apartment is warm, woody, with a whole wall of books.

Namjoon busies himself by tugging the lapel of his silk kimono that you’re wearing aside and latching onto your nipple.

‘I like fiction,’ he offers finally, eyes fixed on the nipple he’s just sucked.

You cup his face. ‘Too much talking?’ you ask, dryly.

Namjoon smiles at you. ‘I’ve jerked myself off a lot remembering that time we fucked on my plane.’

He plays with your other nipple, and you sigh.

‘I have recurrent dreams of cumming in your ass, the sounds you made.’ He shivers, visibly. ‘The way you’re so soft, the way your hair looked tangled up with my fingers.’

You’re so wet you’ve worried you’re ruining his kimono.

Namjoon slides his fingers through your folds, humming a little as he glides into you.

His fingers are long, and he thumbs your clit, stroking lazily.

‘I’m so hard I’m worried I’ll hurt you,’ he tells you as your legs fall apart.

You reach for the cock prodding your hip, and he groans as your hand curls around him.

‘Get the fuck in me, Namjoon,’ you plead.

Namjoon laughs darkly as he covers your body with his own. ‘I’m right here, baby.’

***

You’ve made it back home and are just getting into bed when your phone lights up.

You unlock the screen and are greeted with a high-res photo of Namjoon and you in the front lobby of his building. He’s licking into your mouth and his hands are cupping your ass, pulling you tight to him.

Unknown number : I got your number off Yoongi because I thought you’d like this. Hot, right?

You can’t help but laugh.

©hamsterclaw 2021

#bts smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut

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thebloggerbloggerfun · 3 years

Text

@jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time @katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

LINK

Thanks for letting me write this, guys!!

AO3 (2.1k)

The thing about Heaven was that it was whatever you wanted it to be, and most of its residents wanted it to be familiar.

Technically, Dean didn’t need to fill his car up on gas anymore, but there was still a gas station just down the street from where his new home was placed. He didn’t need to sleep, but he still had a large king-sized bed he made sure to make use of at least once a day. He didn’t need to eat, but there was a thriving supermarket that catered to whatever he was feeling like eating and always boasted the freshest ingredients for when he wanted to get a little fancy with his cooking.

Like today, for example.

Bobby had said he doubted Dean could make a proper souffle, so obviously Dean had to make the old man eat his words - and a souffle.

Dean stared at all of the different options of eggs, trying to decide if “free-range” vs. “organic” actually meant anything in Heaven, or if it was just meant to give him some sort of familiarity.

He grabbed the “free-range” option and moved on to the dairy.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye in the meat section across the way, and the way his heart stopped in his chest when he turned to look would have killed him if he wasn’t already dead.

It was Cas.

Cas, who Dean had spent every day thinking about since he’d left. Cas, who Dean had been trying to find ever since Bobby told him he was still around. Cas, who Dean still had unfinished business with.

He’d spend hours in bed, staring at the ceiling of his room and rehearsing just what he’d say when he saw him again, but in those scenarios Cas had shown up on his doorstep or in the passenger seat of his car where they could have a moment to just be .

He’d never been buying hamburger meat.

Dean rushed forward, cart forgotten, and skidded to a halt in front of Cas, just as he looked up in surprise.

“I love you -” Dean said in a rush, heart pounding, head reeling, “Of course I love you. You’re - fuck - you’re everything I could ever want and I’m - I’m so damn sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t have me, too.”

Cas blinked at him, and it was in that moment Dean realized something was wrong.

His expression, his hair, the way he moved, the way he was dressed - all of it was wrong.

None of it was Cas, he’d just been too overwhelmed to see it.

“Oh, uh... hey Dean,” Not-Cas said, and finished putting his selected meat in his basket, “I didn’t didn’t know that you died. Um, if you’re looking for Castiel -“

Dean turned and ran out of the store.

What were the fucking chances that in all of Heaven, he and Cas’s old vessel were neighbors?

Dean gunned the gas pedal on his car as he drove endlessly, trying to walk himself through what exactly had happened the day before.

Jimmy Novak was here.

Jimmy Novak who - last Dean checked - hated him.

Dean had just spewed his feelings all over him without even thinking about the possibility that he wasn’t Cas. He’d been wearing a sweater vest for crying out loud - but he was willing to forgive himself for that one because he didn’t really know how Cas would dress if he had the choice.

His hopes had soared so high when he’d seen the familiar figure, only to be dashed the moment Jimmy had opened his mouth. They sounded absolutely nothing alike - and Dean yearned for the deep gravel of Castiel’s greeting.

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened.

Where was Cas?

Didn’t he know that there was nothing keeping them apart now?

In what could only be an act of fate smiling down on him, Dean zoomed around a corner near the Heavenly library, and instantly had to stomp on the brakes of the Impala as a trenchcoat-clad figure stepped into the previously empty crosswalk.

Old habits die hard - Dean was still going to brake for Heavenly pedestrians, especially ones that looked like Cas.

Cas turned to look at him, eyes wide, and Dean shoved the driver’s side door open in a panic. The trench coat was unmistakable this time.

“Cas! Cas - don’t go okay? I gotta -“

Cas shook his head sharply and let out a breath.

“No - Jesus Christ - it’s still me, you idiot.”

Dean gaped at him as his brain tried to catch up with the conflicting bits of information it was processing.

“...what?” He heard himself saying.

Had he just wanted it to be Cas so bad that he’d ignored all the signs?

Jimmy gestured at himself like it was enough of an explanation.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“But - but you’re wearing his trenchcoat! ” Dean said, waved at it like maybe Jimmy hadn’t realized he was walking around as the mockery of the angel who’d once shared a living space with him.

Jimmy placed an affronted hand on his own chest.

“It was my trenchcoat!”

Frustration boiled inside of him and Dean quickly slid back into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

He sped off, once again running from what could have been.

Dean was sulking under a pile of blankets in his bed when there was a knock at his door.

He ignored it.

After a few moments of silence, the knocking came again, louder and more insistent this time.

Grumbling to himself, Dean threw the blankets off and trudged down the stairs, flinging open the door with a scowl.

A person with nearly combed hair was standing on the doorstep holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and had a sticker on his shirt that said, ‘Hello, my name is Jimmy’.

“Very funny.” Dean said flatly.

“It’s not funny. It’s just in case you try to kiss me or something.” Jimmy held up the six-pack expectantly. “Can I come in?”

Dean didn’t appreciate the ribbing, but he didn’t mind the beer.

And after accosting him twice he might as well let the guy do what he wanted.

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean grumbled and left the door open as he walked back inside and flopped onto his couch. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me?”

Jimmy hummed as he set the beer down on the coffee table and took a seat opposite Dean.

“I don’t not hate you.” He said with a shrug. “But last time we talked you were trying to convince me to chain myself to a comet again and I can’t say I appreciated it.”

Dean grunted in acknowledgment.

“I’ve been in heaven for a while now. It’s nice here. I take a yoga class with my wife.” Jimmy smiled at him. “I think I’m in a much better mental space now to consider liking you, especially if we’re going to be neighbors.”

Dean winced.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like Jimmy, it was just… that was Cas’s face. It wasn’t , but it was. Was he really going to have to be constantly taunted with it?

“Look man - I’m sorry about - you know. That.” Dean waved a hand in the air generally. “But you don’t have to do all this. I’ll stop harassing you.”

“That would be nice,” Jimmy said, opening one of the cans and taking a swig, “So, considering the things you’ve said to me, I take it he finally told you he loved you?”

Dean paused, still raw every time he thought about it.

“You knew?”

Jimmy smirked.

“That angel’s love for you permeated both of our beings so potently I’m amazed I don’t love you.” Jimmy said, like it was the kind of fact you could drop casually. “Though even I will admit, as a happily married heterosexual man, that having a man as handsome as you proclaim your love to me in the middle of a grocery store was very exciting.”

Dean dropped his head into his hands and groaned loudly.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Jimmy said, “That first one was pretty good. I’m sure he’s going to love it.”

“He’s never gonna hear it.” Dean muttered.

“Sure he will. You’ve already practiced it twice.”

“I can’t find him!” Dean said, and looked back up, “He’s here somewhere, and I can’t find him. It’s killing me.”

Jimmy held out a beer can.

“Good thing you’re already dead.”

Begrudgingly, Dean accepted the beer and opened it.

“I just. . . I just wanna see him again.” Dean took a long drink. “I want to talk to him. Tell him everything. Share everything. If he wants that.”

Dean let out a long breath, expecting Jimmy to interject with a quip.

He looked over at him when nothing happened, and Jimmy was smiling at him in a way that Dean could only describe as ‘fond’.

“What?” Dean said, indignantly.

“Nothing.” Jimmy said innocently. “You’re just not what I expected.”

Dean looked away.

“Anyway, you asked why I’m here,” Jimmy took another drink, “I’ve seen Castiel.”

“What?” Dean jumped to his feet, beer can dropped to the floor and forgotten about. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I’m an enigma,” Jimmy shrugged a shoulder and leaned back against the plush chair, “Anyway, I wanted to let you know as someone who has literally been in Castiel’s head - I'm pretty sure I know the reason he’s not showing himself to you.”

“Well, fucking spill.”

Jimmy paused.

“Why do you love him?”

Of all the things Dean had been expecting Jimmy to say - this wasn’t it.

Dean sat back down.

“Why?” He asked, a little breathless. “Why does it matter?”

Jimmy shrugged again.

“I guess -” Dean said, trying to unspool his emotions from the knot they’d made in his heart, “He’s - he’s Cas. He cares . . . so much about everyone and - and he’s selfless and kind and he fucking saved me in more ways than just one. He��s always been there for me and Sam and he’s just… he’s just. He’s just good . I’ll never deserve him, but I want to try.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath.

“He pulls me away from the edge, man. I just love him.”

Jimmy nodded once, set down his beer can, and in a bizarre turn of events, began yelling at Dean’s ceiling.

“Did you hear that, Castiel? Not one goddamn thing about how you look! Nothing about me or my vessel!”

Dean stared, dumbfounded.

“Wh-”

“He doesn’t care what you look like! Can you please just come talk to him so I can stop playing marriage counselor for you two?”

Care how he - what?

What was happening?

Before Dean could fully compile all of the new information, there was a hesitant knock at the front door.

Dean whipped his head towards Jimmy, who was smiling in satisfaction.

Nearly tripping over himself, Dean rushed to the door faster than he’d rushed towards anything in his life, and swung it open.

In front of him was the wavelength of celestial intent that Dean had always known existed inside of the vessel of Jimmy Novak - the glint of angelic creation he’d caught glimpses of in the glow of his eyes and in his healing touch. The being was massive and stretched high into the sky with what was (maybe three? four??) pairs of wings scraping the clouds even further above everything. He was flaming rings and rotating divine faces that Dean could barely comprehend - he was raw power and all-knowing eyes.

On the front of his form was a sticker that read, ‘Hello, my name is Castiel’.

“. . . Hello Dean.” The voice rumbled through the air like thunder.

“Cas?” Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I - yes. I’m sorry. I lost my vessel to the Empty - this was the only way -”

“I love you, too.”

The rotating faces on the form towering above him froze in place.

“I do! I love you, Cas. Okay? You didn’t let me say it back before - and if I’ve ever made you feel like I couldn’t love you back, I’m so fucking sorry. You deserve better.”

“. . . you love me?”

Dean nodded, his heart clenching at the disbelief he could hear in Cas’s voice.

“ Even as this?”

“You’ve always been this.” Dean swallowed. “I fell in love with the angel, not the vessel.”

“Dean. . .”

Dean smiled up at him in understanding.

“Just a shame that we’ll have to get a bigger house.”

“Oh I can -”

And as Dean looked on, Castiel began to shrink. The form didn’t change - he was still as striking as he’d been the first time with his wings and halos and faces still firmly in place - but he was now maybe one foot taller than Dean instead of one hundred.

“- make myself more manageable.”

Dean grinned and took a step forward, giddy and thrilled that this was finally, actually happening

He reached up, resting a hand on one of the divine faces.

“Bite-sized.” He murmured fondly.

Jimmy’s voice cut through the moment from somewhere behind them.

“Just so you two know - I. Am. Moving!”

#spn #destiel #destiel ficlet #spn coda #jimmy novak #akasdflks I barely know what this is guys I'm sorry #sometimes I write

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avengerscompound · 3 years

Text

Small Gods: Patience - 1

Patience: A Black Widow Fanfic

Patience Masterlist | More Small Gods

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1611

Warnings: Language, guns, (smut, angst, and canon typical violence on series)

Synopsis: Every day Natasha prays for more patience to deal with a litany of things from waiting for her target to make a move - to not yelling at Clint for putting empty milk containers back in the fridge.

When her prayers are answered, Natasha finds that having patience is easy, holding on to it is a little harder.

A/N: Reader is a minor god.

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THE REMAINDER OF THIS SERIES, EITHER ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST OR SEND ME A MESSAGE

Chapter 1

Natasha stood on the edge of the building watching the chaos break out below her. The team was supposed to be infiltrating a new underground crime group to figure out where a drop-off was happening. They’d had men on a street corner no one had managed to clock, and it had just happened to be the one Steve was observing, and they’d spotted him. That had made the whole crew antsy and then they’d wanted to change locations for the meet. That had meant a sudden scramble to relocate everyone, so they could keep monitoring the situation. Tony had nearly been spotted as they did and ended up having to leave the area completely so it looked like another normal New York City Iron Man sighting. To top that off, Sharon’s comms had just stopped working completely and so no one had any idea what the group was actually saying. It had been a series of fuck-ups and she knew she would have to get down into the mess soon the way things were going, but she was waiting to see if Clint could salvage it as he bumbled along the street acting stupid so that he could ‘accidentally bumped into his old friends Sharon’ and get some ears back on the scene.

“God, grant me patience,” she sighed. It was a prayer that had become commonplace for her. She’d use it when she was on an undercover mission where she had to pretend to be much less intelligent than she was. She used it when she helped patch up Clint’s cuts after he’d spent a whole day being incredibly agile and dexterous, only to trip over his doormat and land face-first into a cactus he didn’t even know he owned. She used it when Tony went on one of his rambling stories that she already knew. She used it when she had to watch Steve jump off yet another stupidly high point for no reason other than he had to be their first.

“I’m not sure, Natalia,” a voice coming from way too closer said. “I’m not sure that’s what you actually want.”

She spun around, quickly assuming a defensive position. You stood at the corner of the building, completely relaxed. You had dark sunglasses on and what looked like a faux leather jacket and large black boots. You were leaning against the wall slightly and twirling a lollipop in your mouth, and despite the fact that on just about anyone else she’d think they were trying too hard, you seemed effortlessly cool.

“Who are you?” Natasha snarled.

“Patience,” you said simply.

“Don’t tell me to be patient when you’ve just snuck up on me in the middle of a mission. Tell me what you want, or I’ll send that piece of candy through the back of your throat.”

You laughed and held up your hands. “Okay, killer,” you teased. “Relax. I wasn’t telling you what to do. I was saying that’s who I am.”

Natasha quirked her eyebrow at you. “So your name is Patience, and you sit around waiting for people to pray for patience and you pop out thinking it’s a funny joke? You know how close to death you just came right now? I’m in the middle of something. Go away before you get someone hurt.”

Natasha spun back to look down at Sharon who was now talking to Clint. She saw the quick sleight of hand as they exchanged mic packs.

“Patience isn’t my name,” you laughed.

Natasha rolled her eyes, hoping to cling on to the last remaining patience she had rather than breaking your neck. That would just lead to a lot of paperwork. “You said it was.”

“No,” you said, straightening up and reaching into your inner jacket pocket.

Natasha pulled her gun and pointed at you. “Don’t even think about it.”

You pulled your hand out with a business card pinched between your thumb and index finger. You raised your hands and flicked the card up so it was held between your index and middle finger. “I said I was patience,” you said, taking a few steps toward her. Natasha’s fingers twitched on the trigger finger as she tried to read your intention. “You’ve been praying to me a lot lately. I thought I’d show up. But - you’re obviously not ready yet.” You offered the card to Natasha and she took it without taking her eyes off you. “Now… count to two hundred, and then go down the fire escape. Agent Carter will be fine until then, and that will get you there exactly when you need to be.”

“What?” Natasha asked, now completely confused.

“Just a suggestion,” you answered and casually strode off to the stairwell, leaving Natasha alone on the roof, completely perplexed over what had just happened. She looked down at the business card. Embossed in gold on the glossy black card were your name, address, and phone number. There was no mention of a job or business or even the word patience that you had kept bringing up.

Natasha furrowed her brow and tucked the card into her pocket. She wasn’t a trusting person by nature, but she had enough experience with magic to know not to completely ignore what you said. She counted to two hundred as she paid close attention to what was happening in the street. As she carefully made her way down to the fire escape, there was a commotion and Sharon drew her gun. People scattered as a large van pulled up and armed men spilled out.

Natasha cursed under her breath as the street broke out in utter chaos.

“How did you even get there so fast?” Sharon asked.

Thanks to your warning, Natasha had gotten there at the perfect time to take out most of the gunmen before they’d even shouldered their weapons. In the end, while the plan hadn’t exactly gone how everyone had wanted it, and they still needed to actually find where they were operating from, they had made a lot of arrests, and thanks to Natasha, lots of innocent lives had been saved from being caught in the crossfire.

“There was this woman…” Natasha started, not quite sure how to explain your strange appearance and departure from the rooftop.

“Oohhh…” Clint teased. “Nat got the hots for some hot Chiquita.”

“Gross, Clint,” Natasha snarked. “Don’t be a letch.” Clint held up his hands in surrender and Natasha let out a long breath. “It was weird though.”

“How was it weird?” Steve said, sitting forward in his chair. “Anything we need to worry about?”

Natasha shrugged. “I don’t know - maybe,” she said. “She said she was patience.”

Clint snorted. “You definitely need to find her then,” he teased. Natasha swatted him on the back of the head. “See,” he complained, rubbing his head.

“So her name was Patience?” Steve said, opening up a drop-down screen above the coffee table. “FRIDAY, do we have any record of a Patience as a member of any known criminal organizations.”

“Her name wasn’t Patience,” Natasha said, pulling the card out of her pocket and handing it to Steve. “She said she was patience.”

“What does that mean?” Steve asked, typing the details into the computer.

Natasha shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Tony chuckled. “I like the idea of anthropomorphic adjectives walking around.”

“Patience is a noun, Tony,” Bruce scolded. “And so is Tony.”

“You know what I mean,” Tony said, waving his hands around. “You can feel patient, you can’t feel Tony.” He paused for a moment. “Not unless you asked nicely.”

“Maybe she’s some kind of god,” Clint said. Everyone turned to him and Natasha raised her eyebrow. Sometimes Clint would say things that were so simple and so profoundly intelligent that she wasn’t sure if he just blindly stumbled into the answer or he was an actual genius.

“Is that a thing?” Sam asked. “Just random gods of emotions?”

Natasha shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s a pity Thor isn’t here, we could ask him. But she did say I’d been praying to her.”

Clint snorted. “Sounds about right.”

“But Thor’s not a real god, is he?” Steve said. “Wasn’t the theory that he’s just an alien that lives a long time and humans just decided he was a god?”

“The dude makes lightning, Cap,” Sam teased. “Maybe he’s not the only place it comes from, but he can definitely create it and control it. Why can’t there be the equivalent for something like patience.”

Clint snatched the card from Steve and shoved it into Natasha’s hands. “I say you call her.”

“You just want Nat to stop smacking you on the back of the head,” Bucky snorted.

“No, I want to see my best friend get laid,” Clint said, folding his arms across his broad chest. “I bet someone who can command patience would be great at sex.”

“And…?” Bucky pressed.

“And I don’t want to get clocked on the back of the head anymore,” Clint muttered.

Everyone laughed and Natasha looked down at the card, spinning it around in her hand.

“You look like you’re considering it, Red,” Tony mused. “What was she like?”

“Cryptic,” Natasha replied. “Cool.”

“Was she hot?” Clint asked.

“I think so,” Natasha said.

“So call her,” Sharon shrugged. “She helped me out. She can’t be all that bad.”

Natasha nodded. “At the very least I might get some answers.”

“And who knows, Nat,” Clint said. “Maybe she’ll be able to teach you a trick or two.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek trying not to laugh, and wishing she had a little bit of that patience right now.

// NEXT

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #small gods #patience

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quietmyfearswith · 3 years

Text

slipping into little space ; preferences

warnings — fluff?? mentions of nudity. hints a t sexy times

characters — andy barber, steve rogers, bucky barnes, lance tucker, syverson, august walker

a/n — THIS IS A DDLG FIC,, was inspired by this ask! to the anon who requested for it i hope you like it and tell me what you think!

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure

masterlist

Though the Thanksgiving dinner she was preparing was only for her and Andy, Y/N couldn’t help but stress and fret over almost every single thing; she wanted their first celebration of the said holiday to be perfect. Hence why she has been cooped up in the kitchen for almost the whole day, even though the dinner was still tomorrow. She baked a cheesecake and it was now cooling up in the fridge, the vegetable she decided to cut today so come tomorrow all she had to do was cook them, and now as she was marinating the turkey she found herself getting whiny and irritable. Andy entered their home quietly and observed his girl for a little while; her constant texts provided him updates about how hard she was working to perfect their meal tomorrow. And by the looks of it she had been working too much that her entire system was already begging for a break. “You okay in there, baby?” Hearing his voice caused Y/N to look up at him, her eyes glossy and her mouth curled up in a semi-convincing smile. Hanging his jacket by the coat hanger, he also dropped his briefcase by the door and sat on the couch.

“Come on over here, baby,” He called for her and patted his lap. Y/N opened her mouth and was about to say no, but a stern look from Andy had her not continuing with that plan and instead she just removed her apron, leaving it on the counter, and plopping herself down on his lap. With her chest pressed against his, the lawyer then rubbed her back comfortingly, “I know you had a busy day; haven’t you, baby?” Hearing her mumble yes against his clothes, the man could only chuckle as he further coaxed her, “You can rest now, baby. You can stop being a big girl now; you can be my little missy again.” As if his words flipped a switch, she did find herself ridding of any remaining thoughts about their dinner and instead complied with his request — which was more like a demand. Peering up at him, her eyes were now wide but weren’t glossy, “Hi dada, I missed you.” Pleased with how his girl decided to let loose, Andy planted a deep kiss on her lips and after doing so he peppered kisses all over her face, “I missed you too, little missy. Now how ‘bout we both go take a bubble bath?”

One of August’s hobbies involved him fixing up his bike or adding whatever gadget he felt would look good on his bike. And since he was given a few weeks off, he took the time to get his hands oily and tinkle with his bike — but really the only reason why he was busying himself with the said vehicle was because his lovely girlfriend was busy with her own workload. Wiping his sweat with the shirt he had earlier discarded, August glanced at the clock and saw how it was already nearing the time they usually ate supper. Once entering the inside of their home, he headed straight for the office and was surprised to hear muffled cries coming from the room. Years of doing field work had allowed him to slip in easily without Y/N hearing him; he then listened closely to see if she had been talking to someone that made her cry, but after failing to hear her or someone else make a sound besides her sniffles, it was then that the CIA agent decided to intervene, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

Her shoulders rose up and down in shock from her boyfriend’s sudden presence — by now she should have been used to his stealthily ways, but her crying lowered down her guard. She weakly pointed to her desk where pens, highlighters, papers, folders, and her laptop were scattered, “Work just got to me; it’s silly.” August, however, didn’t think of it that way and instead was worried his girl might have been overworking herself. Walking towards her, he grabbed both her hands so she could stand, “You’ve been such a good girl huh? Doing her work and working hard,” Part of Y/N was glowing from the praise and reveling in it; while the other part of her was going to complain to him how she still had more work to do. But just as she was going to do so, August lifted her chin so he could look at her, “How bout we eat dinner, hm? What would you like, little one? Some dino nuggies?” At the mention of her favorite food, she nodded her head up and down as she squealed, “Yes, daddy, I want some dino nuggies for supper!” Smiling he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her away from her cause of stress and into the kitchen, “Alright then, some dino nuggies for my little one only because she’s been such a good girl; perhaps a sippy cup as well and some ice cream sandwiches for desert.”

Bucky remembered how he needed some more hair ties for his long hair; Sam somehow thought it was a bright idea to involve his hair ties for one of his pranks wars with Scott. As he and Y/N were on the hair product aisle, he ordered her to stay put by the cart as he quickly grabbed what he was looking for. Though she wasn’t permitted to walk around, her eyes did the wandering and once she had set her sight on a My Little Pony shampoo. She was able to hold herself back from physically cooing at it; Bucky placed some of the hair tie packets on the cart and noticed how his girlfriend’s eyes were trained onto something. “You want that, sweetheart?” Shocked with how casually he offered it to her, she found herself nodding with excitement. Chuckling, the super soldier grabbed a few bottles into their cart and told her how they should get going to pay and go home already.

As they both had paid already for their grocery items and were now driving to their home. “Thank you for buying me that shampoo.” Bucky nodded as he began driving, placing a hand on her thigh, “You can let loose now, sweetie. We’re going home now,” And with that Y/N found herself playing with his hand, a telltale that she was beginning to let herself become little again. “I love you, tătic, I can’t wait for our bath time later.” As they were stopped by a relight, Bucky reached over and planted a kiss on her forehead, “Me too, sweetie; but don’t forget about our playtime alright?”

When Y/N found out that Steve volunteered to be the overall head for the Avengers’ Thanksgiving outreach program, she decided to help along and shoulder half of the responsibilities that had been put on the hero’s shoulder. Which led them to the current situation they were in — they both were sorting out the food that had been cooked by the other team members and agents. “Okay, turkey, veggies, pasta,” Y/N listed out as she put the food in the bag and laid out in front of Steve so that he could place a greeting card on the basket before wrapping it up. “This makes it the 100th basket we did,” Steve took note as he was preparing the next card.

The next few minutes were filled with hums from the two as a song played on the background while continuing on with their duties. Perhaps it was how repetitive the task got or tired Y/N was in overlooking the whole program, she was too far absent in her mind that she dropped some of the potatoes and made quite a mess. Looking over to Steve, she quickly apologized, “I’m sorry, Steve! I didn’t mean to drop it, I just got tired and was distracted.” Quickly putting down the cards he was holding, he made his way to over where she was and hugged her tight, “I know it was an accident, doll,” He felt his sweater dampen slightly with her tears, he didn’t want her to stop her crying but instead just let her cry out her frustrations. “I might have pushed you to work too much, doll.” She lifted her head up from where it rested on his chest and looked up at him, “You didn’t sir; I just wanted to help you.” Wiping the remainder of her tears, he was quick to counter, “And you were a big help, doll. But it’s time we both took a quick nap before continuing our work, okay? You’ve been such a good doll for me.”

Following Sy’s retirement from the army, he and Y/N decided to accomplish step one of their settling down plan and go buy a house. The move from their apartment to the detached bungalow they purchased had been a big one; but one they absolutely loved and looked forward to. Their new home had been filled with boxes — some were the things they brought from their old residence, while the others were newly purchased furnitures and appliances. “Hey Y/N are our clothes upstairs or in here?” Sy wondered after he walked through the first floor and didn’t catch a glimpse of the bag that contained their clothes. “Shit, hold on I’ll check,” She mumbled to herself and looked at the small notebook she had which contained the information about their move. Upon realizing that the mentioned bag would arrive tomorrow afternoon due to a mix up with the moving company, she could only groan out loud, “God, I’m such an idiot!”

Sy heard her from where she was currently sitting on the floor and pulling her hair out from the pantry, “What’s going on, baby girl?” There was an intention as to why the former Captain had dropped that pet name on her; he was already sensing how the whole move had overwhelmed Y/N and that she was reaching her limit of handling it. It was his way of allowing her to destress and engage in her comfort zone. “I’m sorry Captain, there was a mix up and the bag that had our clothes will be brought here tomorrow. The bags that are in the room are the linens for the bed,” She sobbed out and feared that he’d punish her for stupidity. But that wasn’t what was on the veteran’s mind as he crouched down in his knees and held his girl tight, “It’s okay baby girl, today was real stressful for the both of us,” Feeling her nod against him, he tried his best to reassure her that the day’s gone and it was time to rest, “Don’t worry about the clothes okay? At least they’ll be arriving tomorrow.” Kissing the top of her head, Y/N then asked softly, “What do we do now then?” Lifting her chin with a finger he smirked at her, “Well we can go put some linen and blankets in the bed; then we get to cuddle and sleep naked. How’s that sound, baby?”

When Lance brought up that he wanted to give little tokens of appreciation to his gymnasts for Thanksgiving, Y/N brought up that there were a lot of cute items that his students would love. They both were spending their afternoon on the couch; Lance was watching old performance videos of the gymnasts he was training as well as those of the competitors they were up against. While his girlfriend laid her head on his shoulder, scrolling through Etsy and bookmarking some gifts that stood out to her. There were also a few items that she saved that were things she liked — a stuffie, blanket, sippy cups or some pajamas. As she let out a whine about how cute the items were, the gymnastics coach paused the video he was watching and looked to his side, “What’s that all about?”

Pushing her phone to his sight, Y/N pouted, “I was looking at some gift ideas for your students but somehow I ended up looking at these little space items.” The man beside her chuckled as he took the phone and looked at some of the products she saved, “My angel wants some gifts too, huh?” Bashfully nodding her head, Y/N whispered, “Yes, papa, I do want some.” Swiping through some of the ideas she found he then declared, “And gifts you shall receive, since you’ve been a great help to me all the time, angel.” Y/N then shot up from where she was sitting and litter kisses on Lance’s face, repeatedly thanking him for generosity.

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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years

Note

i really love your writing sm. could I maybe request something with Loki and reader being slow to realize that the feeling is mutual? if you dont mind <3

A/N: Thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoy my writing, that makes me very happy to hear. I tried my best with this, I wasn’t really sure how to go about it, but I think I did a fun little twist to it. The italics are flashbacks. ALSO, you don’t need to know the song “Stuck In The Middle” to read this, but it will make this fic a little bit cuter if you do, so go stream it! It’s by Tai Verdes (actually just go listen to his whole album TV). I hope you enjoy this, nonnie.

Stuck In The Middle

Loki x reader

Word count: 2255

Warnings: fluff, maybe swearing I don't remember lol

Tony decided to throw another one of his giant parties, but no one is really sure why. There’s no holiday, no accomplishment to celebrate. All you know is that the tower is filled to the brim with high named people and well rounded faces. Music is blaring as people lounge around drinking or casually dancing. The Avengers are all around, scattered among the faces.

You on the other hand are leaning against a wall drinking some pop and trying to ignore the creepy men that hit on you. Parties are fine, you don’t mind them, but you don't go around gloating about your business or accomplishments. You watch Tony walk around getting praised by millionaires and celebrities with a smirk on your face. Shaking your head, you look down and give your glass of water more attention than the people.

“You really should get out there.”

Steve stands next to you with his little suit on that makes you laugh. You’re not used to seeing him all dressed up.

“I’m not a boaster. I’ll dance here and there, but conversation isn’t my forte.”

“You're having a conversation with me, so what does that say?” He laughs.

“I don’t need your technicalities, Cap,” you laugh as well.

“You don’t even have to talk to people you don’t know. We’re all here.”

“Fair enough.”

“Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“No, Steve. Go have fun.”

He smiles at you before returning to his seat at the bar by Bucky and Sam. You smile at the three of them. You do truly love your friends, even if they bother you during alone time.

“Why would you enjoy them if they bother you?”

“Loki, stop reading my mind.”

“I can’t. You’re quite loud,” he jokes.

You roll your eyes as you take another sip of your water.

“Do you not like these grand parties?” He asks.

“Eh, I don’t mind them. Just not a bragger.”

“Ah, yes. One night dedicated to gloating about your own accomplishments while putting down others.”

“No, that’s the Oscars,” you joke.

“Who is Oscar?”

“Never mind. Why you go out and dance? I bet you have some moves.”

“Not without a partner. I’m more of a partner dancer.”

“Well, there’s plenty of pretty girls around you to ask to dance.”

“Why dance with a pretty girl when I have the most beautiful one right here leaning against a wall and ignoring everyone? That’s more my style.”

“Loki, I’m flatter,” you laugh, “is this your way of asking me to dance?”

“Possibly. Thor has been bugging me to ‘get out there’ and I don’t like anyone here beside you.”

“Such a gentleman.”

Loki rolls his eyes as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the dance floor. The song changes into a fun chill song you recognize as “Stuck In The Middle”. You and Loki dance together as the two of you laugh. At some point, he pulls you into him, holding him at your chest.

“Remember when we first met?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do. You were arguing with Tony and Thor.”

“I want to return to Asgard and I will no matter what you say.”

“You’re a war criminal serving time here for your attacks. If you even attempted to go back, the American army would shoot you down.”

“And good luck to them.”

“My brother is a god, Man of Iron, do not forget.”

“Shut it, point break. You can try to leave if you want to die.”

Loki scoffs at Tony’s threat. As he goes to open his mouth, he sees a girl wander into the living area and scour the kitchen. The three watch her in silent and she opens every cabinet. Loki is curious by the girl with her long black hair and sweats on, clearing not caring about the argument happening. She finally turns around with her mouth filled with pretzels from shoving them in. She looks at the two gods and Tony with a wide eyed look, clearly asking “what” in her face and shrugging.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asks after swallowing.

Tony laughs and shakes his head, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re fine, sweetheart. We’re just having a disagreement. Go enjoy your pretzels,” Tony chuckles.

Loki watches the way she submits to Tony and follows his lead, wondering who she is and why she listens to Tony without hesitation.

“I was so intrigued by you, this small little thing who looked so full of life. What happened to her?”

You laugh hard, “You got to know me, that’s what.”

Loki hadn’t seen the innocent girl in two weeks, wondering if she was even real. There had been some kind of glow to her so had he known better, he’d say she’s an angel.

Loki decided to coop himself up in the library while he was stuck on Midgard. Since he was stuck here, he thought he’d at least spend time doing something enjoyable. He’d spend hours in there until he had read every book and started to reread them. Then, as if the universe had heard him, the innocent girl had returned, putting a book away and getting a new one. She immediately walked out of the room and down to the tower’s elevator. Without hesitation, Loki got up and followed her at a quick pace, wanting to get in the elevator at the same time. As he walked in, they stood in silence next to each other and Loki realized he had no plan.

“I’m Loki. I don’t think we properly met.”

“Y/N.”

Loki feels his heart pound as she speaks to him with her heavenly tone. She sounds exactly like he thought she’d sound. It fits her so perfectly and he wants nothing more than to listen to her talk all day.

“I apologize for anything you heard the other day. Stark and I don’t see eye to eye.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughs, “He can strike a nerve sometimes.”

“That is an understatement,” Loki says, losing himself in his anger towards the billionaire.

You laugh at his comment which eases his anger. Loki is filled with joy knowing you find humor in his words, learning you’re not as stuck up as the other Midgardians.

“You read?”

“Yes, I love to.”

“What’s your favorite book?”

“Sense and Sensibility.”

“I don’t think I know that one.”

“It’s a Midgardian classic,” you say with some snark.

“I’ll have to read it. May I ask what you are doing for the rest of the day?”

The elevator opens and the two of you walk off, Loki still following you with awe.

“I’m going to spar with Steve for a little bit. You can join if you want.”

“I will not participate, but will not refuse to be of company.”

You smile at him as you walk towards the training room. Steve stands there getting ready and is surprised to see the stoic god behind you.

“Is he joining?”

“Just to watch.”

Loki sits down on the bench and leaves you to get changed and stretch. He can’t comprehend how something as sweet as you can be so willing to fight one of the super soldiers. He can’t even lie that he’s scared for you, but he’s soon proven wrong in seconds as you knock Steve down to the ground in a sweet kick. You and the super soldier go at it and you prove to be a worthy match for Steve. Loki is shocked by your swiftness and strength, clearly underestimating you.

“Well, I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t expect you to be as tough as you are.” “Wow, you underestimated me. I’m hurt, Loki,” you tease.

“I’ve learned to expect the unexpected with you.”

“How so?”

“I think we all remember your silly holiday ‘April fools’.”

April fools is one of your favorite holidays and now that the trickster god is living with you, all of the avengers are on high alert all day. No one realized he didn’t know about the special day, so Loki wondered why everyone seemed to ignore him more than usual. He walked into the living space to see you sitting on the couch with another book.

“Did I do something?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m aware I’m not well liked, but it seems that I haven’t seen anyone all day except for you right now.”

“It’s because its’ April fools and they’re scared of you.”

A little ping of pride hits Loki.

“They’re scared of me? And what is April fools?”

“It’s a dumb holiday here where you prank people and they’re worried you’re going to pull something. After all, you are you.”

“You have a whole day dedicated to messing with people?”

“Yeah, usually it’s something simple like telling people you’re pregnant when you’re not or tying the spray nozzle on the sink together so everyone gets wet when they use it. Other people go big which is what they expected from you.”

“That doesn’t shock me,” he laughs.

“Yeah, I wanted to prank them, but I think they’ve left the building entirely.”

“You say we have the tower to the two of us?” Loki can think of a couple ways he’d spend alone time with you, but the idea of messing with the Avengers with your help is too tempting. He’ll have to put his other ideas to the side for the moment. “We can still do something.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not sure, but you could think of something, I’m sure.”

“We could glue everything down so you can use anything?”

“Like stick the together?”

“Exactly, but we could use your magic so we could reverse it later.”

“I like how you think.”

About two hours later, the Avengers return from wherever they had been throughout the day and run to their rooms to avoid Loki. As soon as they noticed the two of you relaxing on the couch, they tensed up and sprinted. You pretended to not have told Loki about anything and watched them get nervous, trying to hide your amusement.

It’s only minutes later when they all run back in yelling at you about how they can’t pick anything up or open drawers. Loki looks over to you among the chaos and smiles, seeing the wide proud smile across your face.

“That was a lot of fun. You surprised me in the past though, too.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He laughs.

You had gotten hurt on a mission and found yourself with a broken arm. Every day activities became 10x harder because you have to do it with your non-dominant hand and it’s started to get annoying. You’ve been attempting to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for about 25 minutes now. Loki walked in to see you struggling with peanut butter all over your hand and a glob on the bread. There’s a giant tear in the middle of the piece you’re spreading it on and a frown on your face.

“You look like you’re struggling.”

“Thank you, captain obvious!” You exclaim in an angry tone, glaring daggers at the god.

“Do you need some help?”

“I would love some because clearly, I’m having some difficulty.”

Loki comes over and helps you finish making your sandwich. You sit down to eat but because of your bad mood, you don’t even want it now. Loki notices your distress and shakes it head, waving his hand by.

“You’re healed, now eat your sandwich.”

You look at him in confusion until you realize your arm doesn’t hurt as much when you move it. You rip off your cast and feel around to feel how your arm is completely healed.

“Thank you!”

“You can be very sweet sometimes.”

“Don’t let Stark hear that, he’ll think I have mind controlled you.”

The Avengers all sit around the bar and watch you and Loki dance. They have a big smile on their face as they see you two have fun, laughing and talking. Thor has never seen his brother look so relaxed and joyful before, it’s refreshing to see him happy. Steve and Tony don’t miss the way you look at Loki, it’s filled with more love than any friends would look at each with.

“You think there’s more there?” Thor asks.

Steve and Tony turn to look at him with confused yet amused faces. “Thor, you really are an idiot,” Tony laughs.

The song comes up to the last chorus and you and Loki have stopped talking. He swings you around and holds his body next to yours. The music get’s both of your attention.

Cause we’re stuck in the middle of lover and friends

And we’re losing every part of the benefits

You’ve hurt me more than I ever knew

But it’s shitty because I’m doing the same to you

As the lyrics set in, you remember all the things Loki has done for you. Making your PB&J, recommending books, keeping you company when the Avengers are away, dancing with you at New Years parties, giving you a hug when you return from missions, and not leaving your side when you’re hurt. Loki thinks of all the things that made you bearable. Your sense of humor, the smile on your face when you see him, the way you’ll reread books you love, the way you make fun of others with him, and how you defend him when they make fun of him.

“I think I like you,” you both say.

#loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki fan fiction #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki layfeyson x reader #loki oneshot #marvel x reader

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herstarburststories · 3 years

Text

Calamitous Love

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your house, but this is a calamitous love. Sooner or later, it's going to destroy.

A/N: I was based and inspired by so many things to get this ready, I can't even start pointing them here. This started as something and escalated to something else, and I'm immensely in love with how it is now. I'm posting a version of this through Dean's POV soon. The prompt is bolded and its for @tvdspngirl314's bday challenge! Hope you like it, honey! And happy bday.

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, fluff, angst, dean is a perv in a cute way, s1 dean Ily

Dean Winchester could easily remember how mad you were that night, after he purposely came to your party uninvited and stood on the porch talking to all your stupid friends. How the one you called the best out of them had wide eyes when she caught him there, and all the reaction she could get was him winking at her.

The man - who was more like a boy, really - with green eyes that matched your garden knew she would run and rush and breathlessly tell you that he was there.

Of course she did. Inez was never one for keeping secrets. He used to wonder if it was a matter of time for the blonde to spread yours.

Her loose lips were useful that night, though. He couldn't even finish his chatter about Chevrolet versus Toyota cars with that James guy before you bursted out of the door ferociously. Dean turned around and waited for many things; well-deserved slapping, indignated tears, a sharp scream strident enough to suppress the loud song which vibrated through everyone's skin like veins.

You surprised him once again.

You closed your eyelashes and took a deep breath, as if to control the burning fire behind your thoughts. The Winchester had seen her in arguments before, the whole ‘my mouth is a loaded gun without a trigger’ thing held an entirely new meaning. He knew you wanted to come at him, and Dean wouldn’t put any guilty on you for that. As you walked towards him, his brittle heart raced like one of those chick flick moments he always mocked about - yet, he couldn't help but stare. Your legs looked so good in that light, pretty ass that Dean loved to grab wrapped in a tight red skirt. You had a white tank with cleavage on and your hair was, as usual, free on its widest way. The hunter adored how your brown sea could never seem not to be a mess, and how you made chaos marvelous like a natural. He surely needed that in his life.

Isn’t it all you had been since the very beginning, honestly? Isn’t it what love utterly is when the lights are dim and the weather changes? Cutting right to the bone like a surgeon, you were that one thing, that one hand that would touch Dean’s weary head and make it rest, those unique lips who could whisper tales of hope in the backseat of his car and he could actually believe it. The one, you know, that one person who didn’t make the eldest Winchester feel like he cared more than he was cared for. He often experienced that math problem, dad never seemed to be satisfied enough to be proud of him, and Sam was always talking about how he wanted to leave someday.

‘’Dean.’’ You said and your tone was harsh, a single eyebrow arched with a quiet defying question. The green eyed man wouldn't be shocked if you had called him out before when he was too busy paying attention to you to notice. ‘’Let's go to the garden.’’

And then you grabbed his wrist, sneaking in through the rusting garden gates in the back of your house. Such mere touch put his skin on flames. So many others, mostly monsters or people who were really monsters at heart, already chained his hands and he always broke the cuffs. This time, in your hands, Dean almost wished he could stay put, grounded to something else other than bloody walls and oily guns. He missed you so much. The way your fingers felt on his cheeks, how you'd allow him to kiss every inch of your body, and how you seemed to understand.

Anyway, it wasn't time for him to turn sentimental just yet. Leave it to Sam.

Dean’s boots were cruel against the grass, walking side by side with your high heels ones. Above all the partying noise, they both were quiet for once, as if they were going into a clandestine meeting.

He hated it.

‘’What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you turned around in a swift move before crossing your arms. It took a lot of self control not to glare at your breast, which is why Dean didn’t. He pictured it wasn’t that bed since he was only glancing for a few seconds and the malicious smirk on his face faded into him licking his bottom lip through the memories of fucking, grabbing and playing with them. You rolled your eyes, impressed by my immature behavior. ‘’Winchester, I asked what you are doing here.’’

Always so dominant in every situation but in bed. He sighed to himself, man, I can’t lose her.

‘’Listen, Y/N/N, I’m sorry.’’

‘’You are sorry? You can take your apologies and put them in your sorry ass till’ they come out of your mouth, Dean.’’ And, of course, stubborn. Dean Winchester wouldn't be so attracted to you in any other way. Frisky women always had the best him.

He groaned, ‘’Y/N, come on, it wasn't like that--’’

You interrupted his reasoning with a laugh empty of joy: ‘’You left me. You just walked away. No calls, no texts, just left. You promised you wouldn't. You said I could trust you.’’

‘’And you can!’’

He wasn’t able to blame you for that. Still, it broke him to hear every casual syllable in raw honesty. Dean would kill for you, and you didn’t even trust him because he ran away without any note, or previous warning, or anything. If only he could do the trick of just opening his mouth and allowing his emotions to come arrive, like Sam did all the time. All he tried to be, his little brother was simply born that way. He could never be like Sammy and you deserved a guy like him. Yet, the bruised man - more like a scared boy, really - remained in front of you. Because, for once, Dean wanted to act selfish and get it what he craved for. Just this once.

‘’To leave? Sure.’’ Nonetheless, you never learned how to read his mind, so you just aim a wry smile at him. ‘’Sorry, pal. I already have my mom to do that.’’

In that moment, every word you said was a stone designed to shatter him, and it was working fatefully. Sometimes, the green eyed hunter wished he was the one being left instead of leaving people behind. But how could you know that? It's the job side effect.

Taking a deep breath, your name is leaving his lips calmly. The most calm he had ever been since my three childhood years. ‘’Y/N…’’

‘’No, Dean.’’ You spoke. Because his forest eyes matched a lot with the grass in your garden under that dim light, almost like he was made to be there and you didn’t think you could do it again; lose him. It was too much.

‘’Dang, woman. I'm trying to explain!’’

‘’No, you are trying to come up with a stupid lie to cover up whatever you were doing for two weeks! I'm not stupid and I know you.’’ You accused, exasperatedly slapping your own tights. You were right, he had showed up to your party with a dumb excuse on his tongue, ready to tell you anything but the truth. Fuck, how the short haired hunter wanted you to have the imaginary money to buy one of his cheap lies. ‘’Tell me the truth. Don't come up with my dad needed help with a car and all that. What happened to you, Dean?’’

‘’I can't tell you.’’ He shrugged in frustration.

I want to tell you everything, even the details in the corner, the monster in the forest.

You smile sarcastically, ‘’I don't see a fold on your lips.’’

But I can’t.

Dean huffed, pursing his lips. ‘’You would hate me.’’

You would think I’m a crazy liar.

‘’I already do.’’

You can be so violent when hurt. You both have bullets in different body parts, and there you are trying to shoot him. Modern Romeo and Juliet, a hunter romance; they try to kill each other instead of the evil thing.

‘’Y/N, you are gonna think I'm crazy.’’ He wiped his face, exasperated for you to change the subject.

Your lips were shut, the light reflected on you. Dean was glaring at you in a quiet desire for you to stay, to make him stay. But you stand still, looking away with delicate woe contorting your features.

It was clear after a hunt when the hunter should leave the town. And it was clear now that he killed any hope for them that Dean shall do what he usually does after a case. Nodding with a sigh, started to walk away.

But you stopped him.

��’What are you doing?’’ You, in fact, sounded confused. Dean’s eyebrows knitted together, unsure if you two were having the conversation he thought you were not even one minute ago.

The answer resonated more like a question than anything: ‘’Leaving?’’

Your next words were the equivalent to the three ones he had never dared to say. ‘’I don't want you to leave.’’

Yes, the Winchester’s heart was pouring as fast as it was when he went on his first hunt. Yes, he could hear an old rock song playing when you have that look on your face. Yes, he knew he was acting like Sammy and all his cheesy discourses right now.

Who cares?

Apart from all that, Dean offered you a cocky smile. ‘’What do you want, sweetheart?’’

‘’Kiss me.’’

And he did. You trusted him in the garden and he got you back. Dean kissed you in the porch in front of all your stupid friends, too. And then he kissed you again in my car under the streetlight and in so many other uncountable places.

He was the person who got left a few years after that. As if his sorrow had become the prey for some cosmic joke. Sammy left for Stanford and it made his dad, well, more dad than usual. The weird thing was, inside of the grief of being left, Dean understood what he did to you. He had a lot of blood in his hands, enough to turn an ocean red if he ever tried to clean them, but I knew that leaving you was the worst thing that I had ever done.

Well, at least that was what two bottles of Whiskey helped him to get to.

Dean guessed he got what you felt on your porch that night as well. When he walked in, you knew you'd forgive him but you needed to sting back. As Sam left, his older brother already knew he'd forgive him, too. Dean fought about it, and I felt betrayed- wounded animals still attack. But he had forgave him the moment he missed him.

You forgave Dean too, and nowadays he resented for that with an insufferable regret. Because then he told you the truth about the world and showed you his scars. He kissed you, and your lips found every ugly in him. Still, they kept asking him for more. Your lips were the bed for my monster to sleep under.

Real monsters found them.

A few years later, the trio was in a town. You had a vacation from college - you dated a hunter with 5 bucks to his name, and you were studying journalism in a conceited university. It made no sense to Dean sometimes. All you asked for was to spend your free time with him and a call each night to make sure he was alive, which he gave you happily. Besides finding a way to go near your city at least once a month, more for himself than anything else. How did he get so lucky?

You liked certain aspects of the hunter life, surprisingly. The driving away, the creatures, even the restaurants. ‘’Come on, you guys hunt monsters. How cool is that? Also just driving, eating in a new place everyday. Did I mention monsters are real? You guys are like heroes!’’

He shook his head at your optimism, stroking your naked form gently that night.‘’We aren't here, Y/N. This life, it ends early and bloody. There is no place for white fancies and normal.’’

‘’Who said that I want that?’’ You mocked right before pressing your lips to the hickey on his neck, gaining a content groan from Dean. ‘’You monsters. As far as I'm concerned, you are a hero. My hero.’’ You add a subtle joke. ‘’Like a fairytale.’’

He scoffed and pulled you closer. ‘’More like a horror movie.’’

‘’Haven’t you read fairytales?’’

‘’No, but I did see the porn version.’’ Done with talking, he got on top of you, wearing that lopsided grin that started it all over again.

Years back, he asked you what you wanted. And you said, kiss me.

You kept saying that for a decade. Growing that calamitous love, feeding it with stolen glances and touches. If you knew what’s next, would you do it again?

Now you are laying on the ground as he got on my knees and pulled you closer. You are almost dead, a half lifeless body, but you hold on so tight to life, gasping for it. His stubborn girl who he loved so.

Your voice, usually so determined, is barely a whimper. ‘’Everyone wants a fairytale love.’’

‘’What? Don’t get sentimental on me, Y/N. You aren’t gonna die.’’ Dean says exasperated. It isn’t blind faith, unrealistic optimism or anything like this. It’s denial, one of the stages of grief he’s familiar with. It lives with him, as loyal as a dog, as present as a long lost mother’s love; he ignores the acceptance and hope, jumping right into anger, guilt, denial, and bargains with the devil. As if death is a champagne problem he can just drink and be done with because hey, if you can’t lose something, then you won’t right? Right? And if you do lose it, then you’ll just die too. Someone loses oxygen, they die. Someone loses too much blood, they die.

He will die if he loses you, he will. Dean is devastatingly sure of that. He can feel it in his bones. If you die, he dies. His body, his cicatrized soul was made out of in woe. That man - scared little boy like he was when Mary died, really -, He knows sadness like an old lover who always visits, and death is an old friend who always shakes his hands and appears without an invite. Dean Winchester knows pain, alright? Ask any person, he’s the Rome for men, built in ruins despise the beauty of good.

But this? No. He can’t survive. It isn’t possible that someone can hold so much suffering and agony. Skin and bone can only take so many hematomas.

‘’Dean, shut up.’’ You place your hand on his cheek and Dean can’t help but lean in. His green eyes are glistening, the memory of the garden reminiscing in the back of your mind. ‘’I’ve wanted a fairytale love since I was a kid and my dad used to read the books my mom left on the shelf for me. So, in my defense, I never actually read them.’’

‘’Is this what a fairytale looks to you?’’ The eldest Winchester asks, not missing how your touch is colder against him. Where’s Sam with the car? Where’s a miracle? Where’s the justice and fair things and anything good? Dying in his arms, sinking her fingernails into his skin.

‘’The original ones, yes. They are just like that.’’ You chortle, but what’s meant to sound like happiness develops into a cough. All the energy and strength you have are used to push the words. You need Dean to know. ‘’I don't regret anything. You loved me, and I loved you. This is good. I don’t want your silly little mind to think any other way. You aren’t the villain in my story, Dean. You are the…’’ You’re interrupted by your own body giving up on you at an alarming rate, more bloodstained coughing.

‘’Don’t speak, honey. You’ll be alright, okay? No goodbye, we don’t do goodbye. You’ll be alright. Just keep yourself awake, ok?’’ Dean doesn’t know what to do other than hold you. What does one do with all the throbbing aches? He can’t say he will see you in heaven if you die. Staying with you for ten years was heaven already and this is the price he pays. That’s like when the ocean drains in a flash right in front of your eyes and someone tells you to swim in the sky instead. He can’t jump high enough to get it, he isn’t tall enough to get it. But God, Dean can’t just give up, he can’t just let you go. You are bleeding out and he’s dying with you. ‘’Please.’’ The Winchester pleas. ‘’Don’t leave me. Please.’’

If this is how you die and you can only pick up some words to say, you need to spell love. You need Dean Winchester to know he was loved with your last breath, there’s no better use to life other than love. Therefore, it’s easy to know what to voice when you look into his eyes one last time. ‘’I love you.’’

Through the agony, Dean gives you the sort of smile... You know, the sort of smile that can only be described by I put my home on fire, so I could eat all the flames and all the bright blaze is in my teeth now. Because something is burning and you are becoming ashes, but you love this. You love that boy and he loves you. You’d do it all again. He rests his forehead against yours and you can feel his tears on your face, his hands holding you for dear life.

‘’I love you too.’’

It’s a good thing to hear as you close your eyes.

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡ Tags in reblog!

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #allyswritingevent #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural #spn #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagines #spn reader insert #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x you #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles imagines #dean is straight

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missvelvetsstuff · 1 year

Text

Guarded Heart

Bucky Barnes x Reader

MobAu

Chapter 16

Warnings: swearing, angst

They also spoke with Loki and George separately. She was trying to get a bead on where everyones heads were to help work out what comes next.

Once the dessert, brandy and coffee had been served George spoke up.

He looked at his son, then to Y/N, who nodded subtly.

"Right. I want to announce the merging of the Barnes and Y/L/N families. Y/N and my son James will marry in one month."

George watched his son as he made the announcement and Bucky went from surprised to delighted to confused.

I don't know if I can allow that to happen."

Tony shook his head "But what about-"

Y/N smiled at Loki "I know and your friendship means the world to me but you've lost important members of your family because of me. I couldn't ask for anything else from you."

Loki shook his head "You didn't ask, I'm offering"

"I know but I also know you have some reorganizing to do yourself. Don't worry, I'll call if I need you. I promise."

Loki sighed "Very well but if I find out you're having trouble and you don't call me, we're going to have a problem"

She nodded in response.

Bucky finally remembered how to talk and had to throw in his 2 cents. "Wait, I never agreed to anything."

"Now, about dividing Pierce's territory...."

Bucky noticed that she was wobbling, straining to hold herself up at the table and he spoke up

"I think we need to call it a night." He glanced at his watch "It's past 3am and none of us have slept much in the last few days."

Everyone nodded and grumbled but Loki had one more concern "Does anyone know what happened to Zemo?"

Y/N roused for a moment "You guys lost Zemo?" She shivered "But he's vile. Might come after me, he never got over being dumped. I-"

Bucky shook his head "We will get him and Y/N, I promise I will keep you safe."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days later. Y/N still hadn't had a talk with Bucky. Every time he was around she went to his bedroom and locked the door, refusing to even acknowledge anyone who tried to speak with her.

Today she had to get up. Today was Thor's funeral. The thought of it made her feel sick and she couldn't keep anything down at all that day.

Loki saw them coming and excused himself from Hela to greet Y/N. "Y/N? Love? Are you alright?" He pulled her into his arms but she stood there stiffly, not returning his hug.

He pulled back to look at her face and she nodded woodenly, whispering "I'm fine" as tears welled up in her eyes.

Loki led her to the front row of seats and sat her down next to him, her mother and Bucky on her other side.

Bucky sat next to Y/N for the service, holding her flesh hand with his vibranium one. When the casket was being lowered she squeezed his hand and he gently returned it, so she knew he was there.

Her shoulders were shaking with the sobs she was trying to hold in but it all became too much and she couldn't anymore. Loud, gut wrenching sobs broke through and she couldn't stop them.

Chapter 17

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #mob!au #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff #thor x reader #arranged marriage #guarded heart

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tiptapricot · 3 years

Note

Give Me Markael Headcanons 🤲

Hee hee hee yessir >:-) (though it doesn’t have to be, this is generally set in a the boys live post movie setting, or at the very least an amiable post vampire reveal AU)

Things start, unsurprisingly, because Marko is bored

He’s craving someone to pick on and fuck with, and Michael presents the perfect opportunity to do so

Marko comments on his looks, his hair, teases him about his music and fashion tastes, even jumps on his back to mess up his hair or interrupt a conversation, and Michael responds with gruff annoyance or short comebacks, or a harsh shove away

It’s a push and pull kind of dynamic (sometimes literally), ranging from playful to genuinely rude, and it stays the status quo for several months

(Implied sexual content under cut)

Marko even goes after Michael without the boys around, pops up at his house and follows him around the boardwalk to get an early jump on that night’s round of torment

It’s absolutely excessive, and would drive anyone up the wall, but the strange thing is that after awhile, Michael starts reacting less and less, until he’s just absentmindedly nodding along while he does his own thing. He stops being bothered to a weird degree, almost like no one’s there, and that frustrates Marko

Because if he can’t get a rise out of Michael, what’s the point? Where’s the fun in it?

Eventually he gets so worked up that he bursts

“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just ignore me, Mikey. You can’t pretend I’m not talking, say something!”

And infuriatingly, incomprehensibly, Michael still maintains his cool. He quirks an eyebrow, shrugs, and says he doesn’t see what the big deal is. “I just stopped caring. I mean you’re not really an asshole,” he reasons, “so why should I be mad?”

And that… Marko doesn’t know how to respond to that. Because… what? He is an asshole. He definitely is. Right? He hasn’t been nice to Michael by any stretch of the imagination, so what the hell is he talking about?

When Marko fails to respond, Michael puts his hands in his pockets and goes to do his own thing on the boardwalk, leaving Marko behind thoroughly confused and even more frustrated than before

No one has ever responded to him like that. No one has just decided… not to go along with his game of cat and mouse, just brushed him off like it was the obvious choice, and he doesn’t know… why. It doesn’t make sense, and he doesn’t know why it’s so offputting

He’s quieter around Michael after that. He still seeks him out and follows him around, but instead of making the usual jabs he just… examines him

They sit on the beach together, and walk around town, and bum around in Michael’s front yard, and talk. Well, Michael’s really the only one that talks. Marko asks the questions, and then trails after him like a curious cat, listening to the answers

At first he’s trying to figure out the why from before, harder and more quizzical, but somewhere along the way that goal goes out of focus. The questions become less about solving something and more about hearing about Michael’s life, about hearing his voice, about seeing him every night

Eventually Marko starts tentatively asking things about his family, his parents, and there’s always this feeling of unfinished-ness hanging between them afterwards, this knowledge that Marko wants to say something too, but just never does. He listens instead, keeps his mouth shut, and listens

And that should be fine, he should be fine with that. Marko tells himself so, over and over. He chews on the loose threads of his glove and listens, focuses on the way Michael smiles when he talks about Sam or Lucy, or on how his voice deepens to something hard and unsteady when he talks about his dad. He tries to focus on Michael, even as something creeps under his skin, wriggles into his fingers and his legs, tense and expectant, edging on panic

This isn’t going to last, he realizes. It can’t. It’s been too long, too easy, that’s not how things work. Something is going to go wrong soon, Michael will get bored or angry or something

Marko stops being able to focus on what Michael says when they meet, too busy listening for a change in tone or topic, for a sign that the gentleness has run out

It’s going to. It has to. Gentleness never lasts for Marko

One night Michael pauses mid sentence and Marko stiffens. “Hey, do you—” he begins, and there, that’s it

Marko snaps into action, adrenaline spiking, and in the next second Michael’s lips are smashed against his own

There’s a moment where they stay suspended, where neither of them move and Marko knows his heart would stop if it was still beating, but then Michael melts into him with this sweet little sound and there are hands working under his jacket and—yes this is much more familiar, this is easy, Marko doesn’t have to think about this

He slips out of Michael’s room before sunrise, something heavy in the pit of his stomach that he tries desperately to ignore

They go on like that for awhile, no more talking, just touching, until one night Michael stops Marko before they can start and doesn’t let him continue

“Hey… what’s going on with you,” he asks, and there’s that gentleness again, that strange strange gentleness that Marko knows is earnest because that’s how Michael is. But why now why… here? Is this not good enough either?

If so what does Michael want?? He ignored Marko’s jabs and insults, he hung around with him seemingly without expecting anything in return for months, and now he’s not satisfied with something physical either. And Marko is dumbfounded

He leaves again, wordlessly, and tries to mull things over on his own, but he’s right back to the why, and he still can’t figure that out. It makes no sense

The others can see he’s worked up, Dwayne and David keep exchanging those glances, and Paul tries to reach out but Marko’s to snippy and tired to explain

That night he confronts Michael again, this time about all of… whatever they have right now, about what he wants, and it ends up just being a long, long, talk

Michael doesn’t want anything, as it turns out. Well, he wants Marko, but he doesn’t want him to be anything. He just likes him. Likes having him around, likes doing things with him

It’s a strange thing to hear

By the time they’re done, by the time they’ve talked through more than Marko thinks they have in the last year, the horizon is tinged red and there’s a new hole in the edge of his glove

Michael gets him too much, he thinks. They both have shitty parental experience, they both crave people and contact and belonging, sometimes to a destructive degree, and they’re both much too connected to their human lives to fully relate to any of the boys

That’s one of the bigger things. Even though Paul has technically been a vampire for less time than Marko, he still doesn’t have the same ties to his human life, doesn’t have the same baggage Marko does

With Michael Marko can actually talk about it. He gets it, he gets the grey areas and the gives and takes and the blurred lines, he gets that even if things sucked there’s still that want to go back to it, a need to keep it with you

Marko hasn’t had that in so long

It’s those spaces that are filled with each other that make their relationship, though, and that’s mutual. Michael grounds Marko, makes him slow down, remember, process, yes, but in return, Marko helps Michael let go

He drags him into races along the highway, teases him and flirts with him, kisses him in public and stands too close and casually touches him in ways that make him blush and sputter

Marko gives him an escape, gives him a place where he can forget his responsibilities for awhile and just have fun

They both provide balance for the other. Michael brings Marko back to himself, reminds him he’s not just Marko the vampire, that life isn’t all about adrenaline and parties, and Marko gets Michael out of his own head, reminds him he doesn’t always have to be perfect and responsible, doesn’t always have to be the big brother or the reliable son

There’s a giddiness to their relationship, innocent and recklessly cynical at the same time

Marko’s torment morphs into a love language, they get drunk and dress up in stolen clothes, break windows and lay on the beach with their feet in the water, howl on the highway and whisper against each other’s throats, excited for every moment no matter how fast or slow

That duality permeates every part of their relationship, it’s excitement spilling into closeness, sparks melting seamlessly back into embers, a mix of dark oranges and blues and reds

It’s a taste of newness that still feels familiar, and it’s exhilarating in its rightness, in it’s closeness, in its awkwardness, and in its gentleness

And, against all odds, it lasts this time

Headcanons masterpost

#I think I should also add a note here that Marko’s actions don’t line up w my hcs for his flirting style #and that’s because he didn’t know he wanted to flirt until he was too emotionally attatched #the fruit is talking again #the fruit is headcanoning again #the fruit is answering again #tlb #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #marko the lost boys #michael emerson #markael

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blueposthings · 3 years

Text

Little Informant (pt. 2)

Warnings: Violence, blood, language

Words: 2.1k+

---------------------------

You had taken your time in getting back home, the fifteen minute walk turned to two hours when you decided to take a stroll around town. It was late, too late for a frail girl like you to be roaming the streets of New York all by yourself. But you had to clear your mind. Besides, with your self-defense skills along with the trusty butterfly knife you always had with you at all times, you were pretty confident.

However, when you finally arrived back at your apartment, you had noticed several things out of place; the dust on the right side of the door frame, two feet above the floor, had a gap, you were sure you hadn’t touched it; the nail of one of the panels on the creaky floorboard was slanted, someone had tripped on it.

There was an intruder in your house.

You slowly grabbed your knife from your jacket pocket before reaching for your keys, intentionally shaking it in your fingers. You turned your keys and opened the door with your left hand, the knife on your right, ready to fight. When no one ambushed you, you crouched down like you were going to untie your shoes when in fact you reached for the gun you had stored below the shoe cabinet.

You replaced the knife in your hold with the handgun, holding it firmly with both of your hands before peeking out from the corner of your doorway. Sure enough, stood a man about six feet tall dressed in all black in your poor excuse of a kitchen, you noticed he was holding a pistol of his own in one hand and a framed picture of you and your father in the other.

“You do look like him, you know?” He said, acknowledging your presence.

“Who are you?” You had your gun trained on him. Your gaze unwavering, despite your heart trying to beat out of your ribcage.

“You can consider me an old family friend.” The man placed the frame back to the countertop as he turned to you.

“Why are you here?” You stood your ground at the front doorway as he approached you slowly, his gun in hand.

“When you opened that laptop, it sent a signal to us. We thought Rumlow had come back from the dead so I offered to go.” He said, ever so casually. “Then I found these photos and, I gotta say, I’m quite surprised. I never took your father as- well, a father.”

He was only a few feet in front of you now, your gun pointed straight to his chest. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“If you’re anything like Brock, you could be a great asset to us, Y/N-”

“How do you know my name?”

“Perhaps, you might want to consider joining us? Your father would be proud.”

“I’m not an asset,” you gritted out. “And I’m nothing like him.”

This perked your intruder’s attention, his head tilted slightly to the side. “Oh?”

You realized then that you might have spilled something you shouldn’t have. You felt your heart drop to your stomach, your hands struggling to keep your weapon steady.

“Do tell me, Y/N. What did you do with the information from that laptop?” His tone was now much sharper, accusing.

You searched your brain to try and find a believable lie, something that wouldn’t put your life in danger. In your moment of silence, the man in front of you grew impatient and furious.

“Where were you just now?”

“None of your business.” You finally said, your voice giving you away with a crack.

“What a shame.” The man sighed, bowing his head to the floor for a second. “I hope Brock’s gonna forgive me for this one.” Then he raised his gun at you, with anger in his eyes.

Time seemed to slow down when you pulled your trigger. However, the man managed to avoid it at the last second, the bullet only hitting his shoulder. The force pushed him back and he let go of his gun, his good hand holding his wound.

“Little shit.” He cursed before charging at you.

You re-aimed your gun, but due to the close distance between the two of you, he successfully pushed it away. He used his whole body weight to knock you back to the wall, resulting in you losing your grip of the pistol in your hand. You grabbed your knife from your pocket, forcing the butt to his head, making him groan as he stumbled ever so slightly. You pushed him back by the injured shoulder, your thumb digging in to the bullet wound. You then kneed him in the stomach, your dominant hand twirling open the knife and stabbing him in the back. You pushed his body off of you with all your might and tried to make a run for it.

You only managed to get a couple of steps away when he grabbed your foot. You tripped and fell face first to the floor. You groaned, your head was spinning and you could feel blood oozing from your nose. The intruder dragged himself up with his good arm while you tried to collect yourself. You still had the knife in your hand so you tried to land another stab to his leg, but he blocked it, grabbing your hand and twisting it so you’d drop the weapon. But what you lack in size and power, you made up with agility -when he yanked your arm up, you used the momentum to help you jump up and straddle his neck with your two legs, your arms holding him in a choke hold. He tried to get you off but between the bullet and the stab wound, he was already losing a lot of blood. He stumbled around, crashing through your coffee table and one of your bookshelves. At one point he went close enough to the TV stand where you had an old glass vase on top. You grabbed the vase and swung it to his face, it broke and he fell unconscious with you below him. You were sure you must have heard a crack, but with the adrenaline numbing your pain you couldn't tell if it was his bone or yours.

------------

When you noticed he wasn’t moving, you took a second to collect your breath. Eventually, you pushed him off and got up, grabbing your knife and both guns before running off.

“And we believe the kid?” Clint crossed his arms. He stared at the back of his teammate’s head, almost seeing the cogs in his skull turning.

“Yes, I know she was telling the truth.” Steve said, his voice an octave lower than it usually is. “I could feel it.”

“No offense, Cap. But when it comes to the sake of the planet’s security, I would rather not go on gut feeling.”

“Have you considered maybe this is just your guilt speaking?” Natasha chimed into the conversation from the other side of the table.

Steve was silent for a moment. “It’s not,” he finally said, although it seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

“As much as I hate to say this, but I think the oldman’s right,” Tony sat back down on the closest chair to the front of the room. “I don’t think she was lying, at least not about this.”

“I say, it is better to be safe than sorry.” Vision spoke up, his gaze not leaving the files displayed on the holograms.

“He’s got a point. We have this information- the location of everything. Why don’t we go see for ourselves.” Rhodes added.

When no one interjected, the room took it as an agreement. Tony was about to tell FRIDAY to display the closest base that they could locate when the A.I. had another idea.

“Tony, there has been a 911 call from the address you told me to look out for.”

This got the man on his feet. “When?”

“Just a few seconds ago. The neighbors reported hearing gunshots and loud crashes. The police are on their way, they should arrive in eight to ten minutes.”

“We can get there in two.”

----------------

They got to your apartment in exactly eighty four seconds. Tony, along with Steve, Clint, Sam and Natasha rushed past some of your curious neighbors and arrived in front of your door. Your keys were still in the door knob when Natasha pushed the door open. Obviously the first thing they noticed was the situation of your living room. And the unconscious man on the floor.

Clint approached the bleeding man, checking for a pulse. “He’s alive, barely.”

Natasha tossed him a pair of handcuffs and the archer gathered the unknown man’s hands before securing him. She then entered a nearby closet in an unsuccessful attempt of finding the apartment’s owner.

The rest of them looked around the ransacked apartment trying to get an idea of what happened or who this man was. Steve picked up one of the photographs that was shattered on the floor, the one your intruder was looking at earlier. There was a pit forming in his stomach as he processed what he was seeing. You’d taken the photograph at your middle school father-daughter dance. He was always at work, but that day he had taken a day off to attend the event for you, even took you shopping to get a nice pastel pink dress and a tie for him to match. You grinned in that photo, unintentionally showing off your braces; your father had his hand around your frame, a gentle yet charismatic smile adorning his lips.

Sam went further to the apartment, ending up in your room. He took in the decorations -or rather lack thereof. Your walls contrasted those of the living room, aside from one old poster of a band Sam didn’t recognize, there was only a bed in the centre of the room. He stepped out of the room and entered another. There was more personality, more life, in this room. Ironic really, seeing as it was your late father’s. There were pictures of him and you on his bedside table, among other things. His bed was unmade but dusty. He spotted a glimmer beyond the papers strewn across the floor. Curiosity led him to picking it up; it was a dog tag. He pocketed it before appearing back to the rest, shaking his head.

“Hey kid!” Tony hollered. “It’s Tony! With The Avengers?”

Silence.

Suddenly the front door re-opened with a force. The five heroes immediately got to a fighting stance.

“NYPD! Put your hands where I can see ‘em!”

The team sighed, half in relief and half disappointment. Upon realizing that the Avengers themselves were in front of them, the police officers lowered their weapon with faces full of questions.

“With all due respect,” one of them spoke nervously, “what are you guys doing here?”

“Our jurisdiction.” Tony snarked with sarcasm before going back to looking around the room.

“That man needs medical help.” Natasha stepped up to the officer, pointing at the body on the ground. “We don’t know who he is yet but we assume he’s bad so keep an eye on him.”

Steve rested his shield on his arm before picking up one of the framed pictures that looked the most recent before giving it to a different officer. “Look for this girl, she might be in danger. And injured.” It was one your father had taken of you only a few months before you last saw him, you had grown a little since then but Steve thought it should do.

“There might be no need for that,” Tony called. “One of the security cams across the street spotted a girl running away from this building, must be her.”

Steve nodded. “Let’s go.” And with that they were off, leaving the police to take care of the crime scene and culprit while they search for you with the guidance of FRIDAY.

----------------------

You finally decided you couldn’t run any further; your chest was heaving, your head was spinning, your back was killing you, and you’re pretty sure the man had sprained your arm. You stopped at an empty alley, a good block away from your building. You let your body slide down the wall to the concrete below you in exhaustion. You lifted your shirt up to see a purple bruise starting to form on your upper stomach. You raised your hand to wipe off the blood staining your face but only ended up spreading the red liquid everywhere before you limped, your muscles giving out. You sighed, turning your brain trying to find out how you were going to get out of this one.

Then you felt a presence to your left. Your instincts kicked in, grabbing the gun you had carried and aiming it to the figure.

“Wow, hey. Put that down.” The figure said, three more people emerging behind him. “It’s me.”

God damn the Avengers. You thought, lowering the gun in your hand. You let your head lull back to the wall behind you.

You heard a metal clink from your other side. “You’ll manage, huh?”

You couldn’t find the energy in you to return the attitude.

Tag list: @iamthescarlettwitch @sincerely-kizzy @ineedmorefanfics @moonyinthestars

I know this is very much long overdue, i hope you'll still enjoy it regardless xx

#avengers x teen!reader #avengers fluff #avengers sister!reader #avenger!reader #avengers x y/n #avengers imagine

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avengersassemble-fics · 3 years

Text

Stark Legacy

part 02/?? "the same fucked up past"

master list

previous part // next part

word count 5.3k

Okay so… Maybe you went a little too hard last night. This headache that you’ve been fighting the last thirty minutes was killer, and the sunlight that peeked past your curtains and into your eyes was not helping. You were so out of it, you swore you could smell bacon. Which could never be the case, it was just you here - and that’s what made your eyes open. You were suddenly hit with the memories of the previous day, and you sat yourself up to stare at the door.

No yeah that was totally bacon you were smelling. You rubbed your hands over your face and flung the blankets off your body, not even wanting to know how you got in here last night. You stripped out of your day old clothing and jumped into some jeans and a random shirt before preparing yourself for what you were about to walk out to.

You pulled your door open to find your living room tidy and put together, and in the kitchen your eyes landed on the backs of Sam and Bucky. They were hovering over your stove and talking amongst themselves, but as you came closer you could make it out more as arguing. You were more focused on the full pot of coffee begging to be drunk (by you specifically).

“Just let me make them sunny side up!” Sam told Bucky as you came up behind them.

“I’m telling you, you gotta have a little bit of crunchiness around the edges,” Bucky argued back. “That’s the best part.”

“I hate to say it but he isn’t wrong,” you said as you opened a cabinet to grab a mug. The two men glanced at you just as you began pouring yourself a hefty cup.

“See?” Bucky said to Sam who all but huffed.

“Thanks for having my back,” Sam mumbled your way and you hummed as you passed him to grab a seat on a stool.

“What is all this anyway?” You asked as Bucky plated a couple eggs and a piece of toast. He turned around and placed it in front of you and held your gaze for a moment before turning back around to repeat the process. You raised a brow at the two men, then grabbed the fork and cut into the eggs. “Thought you two would be gone by now.”

You missed the shared glance between them, you were too busy shoving some food into your mouth. But as you chewed and looked back up at them they faced you together, and you knew that look on their faces, and started shaking your head. “No-”

“Come on, (Y/N),” Sam tried to reason again. “We’ve got at least eight super soldiers out there. We need all the help we can get.”

“Can’t you track down Strange or someone who, ya know, wants to help?” You asked and took a sip from your cup. “Besides, I have very important things here.”

“Is that right?” Sam asked and you gave him a small mhm before going back to your plate. Just as you were about to dig into the other egg the plate was pulled away from you, and you raised your gaze up to meet Bucky’s stare.

“You’re bullshitting,” Bucky stated. You narrowed your gaze at him.

“You’re annoying,” you challenged. Bucky huffed and leaned forward towards you, and you shifted back in your seat.

“You owe me a favor,” Bucky told you. You shook your head at him and sighed.

“You’re really bringing that up?”

“Yeah I’m bringing that up,” Bucky countered. You held his gaze for a few more moments, while Sam watched the exchange from behind. You finally blinked at Bucky and rolled your eyes.

“Fine, but give me the plate back,” you asked and after a few seconds Bucky slid the plate back to you and you grabbed it and went back to cutting into your eggs. You were almost completely sure you were going to end up regretting this decision, and for still owing Bucky this favor.

It’s been awhile since you’ve had to pack for a mission, you really didn’t even know where to start. Sam had filled you in on everything they knew so far. Eight confirmed, though there could be more for all they knew. They had followed up on a lead before coming your way but it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. And he also filled you in one this new Captain America.

“So.. You’re officially out of leads?” You asked and Sam nodded while you shoved some clothes into a bag. “What about Walker? Think they have any information?”

“Even if they did, we are not teaming up with those two,” Bucky interjected as he came into your room. You could tell he was antsy, ready to get a move on. You ignored him though and zipped your bag closed. “Besides, Walker doesn’t have any leads.”

You could see Sam’s face scrunch up a bit as he stood to level with Bucky, and you raised a brow at the two. Was this going to be an everyday thing?

“I know where you’re going with this, and the answer is no,” Sam told him and Bucky shifted and leaned closer and lowered his voice.

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?” Bucky asked and you fought back the urge to twitch at the mention.

“Okay Tweedledee and Tweedledumb,” you cut them off and they looked your way. “Anyone wanna fill me in on who you’re talking about because I know you’re not talking about the man who used my parent’s death as a revenge tactic-“

Bucky’s face fell into a straight frown and Sam looked at him like he was ashamed as well. You sighed and shook your head. “No, of course you would suggest that.”

“I’m just playing devil’s advocate here-“ Bucky started and you scoffed.

“Doing more than just playing,” you mumbled and Bucky huffed.

“But he’s the only lead we have right now.” Bucky finished. The two looked at you as if waiting for permission and you closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh. You were already regretting your decision.

“Fine. Let’s go see Zemo.”

You didn’t like this one bit. Bucky had gone to see Zemo a few hours ago, and here he was trying to talk Sam into breaking him out. Thankfully, Sam was more sound minded then Barnes was. They argued back and forth (this really was going to be a daily occurrence) while you sat on a bench in whatever creepy dark warehouse you were in. You snacked on a packet of fruit snacks you hid in your pocket from home, and watched the two men bicker amongst themselves.

At this point you were just along for the ride.

“Have you lost your mind?” Sam asked and you held back a laugh. You wanted to answer that on a dime and cleared your throat quietly. But the glare Bucky sent your way let you know he heard you. Good.

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky tried to reason and you watched him shift his balance and look your way. “At least I’m trying to help.”

“By breaking out one of the most dangerous men in the world? Who single handedly broke up the Avengers? Yeah, so helpful,” you said and shoved your trash back into your pocket before standing to join them.

“We have eight super soldiers that are on the loose, in case you two forgot,” Bucky said and you crossed your arms.

“We haven’t forgotten, but Zemo is gonna mess with our minds, especially yours,” Sam pointed out to him. “No offense.”

“Offense taken,” Bucky said in a low tone. “Super soldiers go against everything he believes in. He’s crazy, but he has a code.”

“Well at least you two have one thing in common,” you said below your breath, but the look Bucky gave you let you know he heard you, again. “Let’s not forget he blew up the UN and killed King T’Chaka in the process, and framed you for it. Oh yeah, and used my parents death as a revenge tactic, and showed the footage to my brother and I. Didn’t think you forgot that by now, or what about the Wakandans? They definitely haven’t forgotten.”

“Look, we get why this matters to you,” Sam cut in, almost taking a step in front of you to block you off from Bucky’s view. “But it’s pushing you off the deep end.”

“We don’t know how they’re getting the serum, or how many of them there even are, Sam.” Bucky tried to reason, and you scoffed.

“Aww, can’t handle a couple tough guys, Terminator?” You asked and Bucky huffed.

“Will you two stop with the nicknames already? I don’t understand most of them anyway,” Bucky said and you shrugged.

“That’s what’s fun about it,” you suggested and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Just hear me out, okay?” He asked. You stood there and listened to an elaborate plot of breaking Zemo out of his containment, and you couldn’t help but wonder what you were dragged into.

“I don’t like how casual you’re being about this,” Sam said and you nodded in agreement.

“It’s unnatural,” you agreed and Sam nodded with you and Bucky’s face fell.

“Is this how it’s going to be? You two teaming up on me?” Bucky asked and you shrugged.

“Probably,” Sam and you said at once. Before anyone could get another word out the doors to the warehouse were pushed open, and everyone turned to see a man’s back, who was closing the doors. When he turned around and took off his cap, your stomach folded. You looked at Bucky once more with a glare.

What an idiot.

“Whoa, woah, whoa,” Sam began to say and take a couple steps back.

“No, come on, listen-“ Bucky tried to reason. Sam looked back at Zemo and pointed at him.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked and Zemo just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t let this happen,” Bucky said and you shook your head and looked at Zemo.

“For good reason,” you said.

“What did you do, Bucky,” Sam asked and Bucky motioned back at Zemo.

“We need him,” Bucky stated and Sam came back to your side.

“You’re going back to prison!” Sam said to Zemo, who lifted his hands in peace.

“If I may-“ Zemo started to say.

“NO,” the three of you said in warning, and Zemo dropped his hands and listened to the bickering.

“When Steve refused to sign the Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and stuck your neck out for me. All I’m asking is for you to do it again,” Bucky said to Sam before looking your way. “And you owe me, so you have no say in the matter.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Tinman,” you threw back at him. Bucky rolled his eyes and looked back at Sam, waiting for his blessing. Sam looked annoyed but finally sighed and looked at Zemo.

“If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission,” Sam ordered and Zemo nodded.

“Fair,” Zemo agreed. You shared a glance with Bucky and shook your head at him.

“Okay Zemo. Where do we start?” You asked.

You couldn’t believe you were onboard a private jet, headed to an unknown destination, with the three biggest idiots you’ve ever met (well okay.. maybe second to a certain super soldier you did not want to talk about). You settled into your seat across from Zemo (please could someone end your misery) and looked out the window to the passing clouds, before a fuzzy feeling settled into your throat. You slid the blind close over the window just as Oeznik was offering you a drink, but before you could accept, Bucky took the drink from him.

“She won’t be drinking,” He told the older man, and you gaped at him.

“Says who?” You asked and Bucky handed the drink to Sam and sat opposite of him.

“Says me, as part of the favor you owed me,” Bucky replied, and started to search his pockets from something.

“My presence is the only favor you’re getting out of me,” you argued back at him, but he ignored you. You huffed and crossed your arms and watched Zemo pull out a small notebook, and your heart dropped.

That was Steve’s. And it seemed right as you noticed, the idiot beside you did too.

“Who is Nakajima?” Zemo asked. Bucky was up in a split second, snatching the book back and getting in the criminal’s face.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you,” Bucky threatened before moving back to sit in his seat across the aisle. Sam watched the exchange before meeting your gaze, and you shrugged. You had no answers for that.

“I’m sorry,” Zemo offered. “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Bucky warned and you looked across at Zemo. He offered you a smile and you shook your head.

“I don’t like you,” you told the Sokovian man. Zemo nodded and took a sip of his drink.

“Understandable. I’m sorry that you got caught in the crossfire,” Zemo offered and you blinked at him. “But it was necessary to share the truth.”

“By showing us a video of our parents being killed?” You asked a little too loudly. You had sat forward in your seat, and narrowed your eyes. “You’re the HYDRA expert. Tell me then, how do you think that affected me, hm? You think when I close my eyes at night that I don’t see that replaying in my head? You triggered that memory. You knew what you were doing.”

You stood from your seat abruptly and Zemo (probably everyone, but who cares) watched as you went to the back of the plane, and you locked yourself in the bathroom. You didn’t come out for most of the trip until there was a knock, and Sam’s voice spoke through the door.

“We’re landing soon, and we need you out here,” Sam said. You took a deep steady breath and unlocked the door and pushed it open, and it folded open to reveal Sam. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you told him honestly. Though he looked like he didn’t want to give the topic up, he nodded and motioned back to the front of the small plane.

When Sam and you regrouped, you watched Zemo picking through some outfits (where did he even get these?) before handing Sam one. It was an odd red and yellow suit, and Sam took it but raised a brow.

“What the hell is this?” Sam asked. Bucky was just zipping up a leather jacket that had his vibration arm exposed and you avoided his looks.

“That is your cover,” Zemo offered without, and seemingly picked another fit for himself. “We cannot simply walk in as ourselves.”

“All of us,” Bucky chimed in, and you knew he was directing that to you. You rolled your eyes and finally looked his way and crossed your arms.

“Just tell me the plan,” you said and Zemo looked to Oeznik, who disappeared around the small corner for something. Sam disappeared back to the bathroom, probably to change.

“Sam will become Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger. One of Selby’s usual patrons, while I remain as myself. James here, will enter as the Winter Soldier, and I’ll be offering his services to get us in with Selby.”

“Are you sure this is a good plan?” You turned and asked Bucky. Bucky was fastening a glove over his flesh hand and looked up for a moment at the wall. “Isn’t this what you’ve been working away from?”

“We need the information,” Bucky said coldly. You blinked at him as he avoided your gaze, and you looked back to Zemo.

“So what am I doing?” You asked. Oeznik came back around the corner with a black dress and you tilted your head.

“You are accompanying me for the evening,” Zemo said and you eyed the dress.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said as you eyed the silky dress. Bucky seemed to be paying just as much attention to the pick. For some reason, this changed his tune on letting you tag along.

“No, it’s too dangerous,” Bucky said and you gaped at him.

“Oh I can’t go but you can, and then go all Winter Soldier? That’s not how this works, Barnes,” you challenged and he faced you fully and got in your face.

“I’m saying that you need to stay put,” Bucky said. His low voice was almost a growl, and if you hadn’t been used to being outsized by a super soldier in the past, maybe this would’ve intimidated you. You looked him over and held his gaze as you leaned past him and snatched the dress from Zemo’s grip.

“Try and stop me,” you challenged. You turned around towards the bathroom, and just as Sam exited, you entered and relooked the door.

That was so… Weird. Right? You looked yourself over in the mirror and then looked at the dress in your hand. It was smooth to the touch, probably the same material of the dress you wore to that party Ultron crashed. You smiled a bit to yourself at the memory of that night, besides a murdery robot, you had met and got along with everyone well that night. Sam, Wanda, Thor… Natasha… Tony… Steve.

You cringed and shook your head. Pushing down the memories of that night, of those people really, you stripped from your comfortable clothes and into the satin black dress. When you could finally adjust it right, you smoothed the thin straps over your shoulders and looked yourself over in the mirror. The black form fitted dress stopped high on your thighs, and there was a cut out on the side that offered a little wiggle room for walking. You fixed your hair, touched up on whatever makeup you had on, and with a final glance you had to admit.. Zemo had taste, at least. You threw open the door and stepped out, only to hear the three of them fighting. Again.

“You didn’t tell me that part of the plan,” you could overhear Bucky saying.

“Buck, does it really matter?” Sam asked and Zemo nodded, in a fur collar lined coat. All together everyone looked… Okay, but separated it was a tad off. You blamed Bucky of course, if he hadn’t broken Zemo out this wouldn’t be happening.

“As far as I know, she can handle herself,” Zemo said and he straightened his clothing.

“He’s right,” Sam agreed and you finally decided to butt into the conversation.

“She can handle herself,” you chimed in, and they turned to look at you. If you were checked out, you didn’t notice. You had snatched the heels that were laying out for you, and with one hand you gripped onto Sam’s shoulder, and with the other you began to put the shoes on. “Besides, someone needs to keep you all in check.”

“We’d be fine without you,” Bucky tried to reason, just as you set both strapped feet back on the ground and met his gaze.

“First you want my help, then you don’t.. Starting to think I should just head back to the Netherlands,” you commented and Sam shook his head.

“No, ignore him. We need you,” Sam reassured you and you nodded in acceptance. At least someone wanted you around.

A light came on to indicate a descent from the sky, and everyone took their original seats. You ignored Barnes’ looks, and stayed mostly silent as the plane landed, and even as everyone walked side by side one another. To your right was Bucky, Zemo, then Sam at the end. You tilted your head to the side and felt a small crackle, and sighed at the released tension. Somehow, Bucky took it as an invitation to talk.

“Why are you so hard headed?” He asked quietly, as if to shield the conversation from the other two who were discussing Sam’s cover. “You couldn’t have just stayed on the plane?”

“I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who came to me for help?” You shot back at him and he rolled his eyes at you. You shook your head and looked back straight ahead. “But no, as soon as it became clear I’m Zemo’s arm candy, you changed your mind. Kinda misogynistic if you ask me.”

“I’m not trying to be misogynistic,” Bucky replied and sighed deeply. “I just thought you… Didn’t want to be reminded of doing this type of mission.”

You understood pretty quickly what he was implying, and honestly it made you even more mad. “You really want to talk to me about this, when you’re planning on engaging as the Winter Soldier?”

And with that… Bucky grumbled to himself and moved on from the subject. In the distance motorcycle lights began to form, as well as the headlights of a car, and everyone came to a stop in the middle of a road.

“No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it, there’s no margin for error,” Zemo instructed and you nodded a bit to yourself. This should be simple enough.

The ride in was ominous, the car silent as an unknown man drove the group to its destination. You were sandwiched in between Sam and Bucky, and you did your best not to meet the gaze of the man in the rearview mirror. This is fine, everything was going to be fine. The car came to a stop in the city, and everyone began to get out, and Zemo offered you his hand. Without hesitation, you took his guidance and he helped you out, and you walked by his side as the group made their way deeper into Madripoor.

God, it smelled bad.

There were guns and crimes galore, and you kept your eyes focused on Zemo’s head in front of you, Sam and Bucky trailing behind you. Zemo entered an alleyway that soon was filled with a bunch of people, and suddenly your hands were sweaty. Zemo came up along a bar and the man behind it turned around and looked everyone over.

“Hello gentleman,” he greeted and looked at Sam pointedly as you grzed Zemo’s side. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed,” Zemo explained and rested his arms on the bartop. “We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender looked at Sam again with an odd look on his face before giving him a short nod. “The usual?”

You watched as the bartender turned around and moved to a jar, and pulled out a snake. You had to fight back a grin, sliding one of your hands up Zemo’s arm, while the other grazed over your lips to hide the smile that so badly wanted to form. You met Bucky’s glance for only a second, whose pointed stare just screamed Winter Soldier mode. Either way, he didn’t look amused.

Zemo had a simple drink, while Sam was handed one with something from inside the snake floating at the bottom of the shot. The two men clicked their glasses together, and eventually Sam joined Zemo in downing his shot. The Bartender still looked unsatisfied, but moved on from the group. You were about to remove yourself from Zemo’s side when an unknown man came up behind you, sandwiched between you and Bucky, and looked at Zemo pointeedly.

“I got word from up high. You ain’t welcome here,” he informed your “partner”. You glanced at Bucky, then to Zemo who seemed completely unfazed.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me, or…” Zemo motioned to Bucky by your side. You unlatched your hand from Zemo’s arm and held Bucky’s gaze. Deep down, you didn’t want him to do this.

“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo offered. The man looked at everyone and disappeared, and you inwardly sighed.

“What’s a power broker?” You asked quietly and Zemo shook his head.

“Every kingdom needs its king, let’s just pray we stay under his radar,” Zemo said and you nodded a bit and looked over at Sam.

“Enjoy the drink, Smiling Tiger?” You asked and wiggled a brow at him. Sam was about to respond, he probably had a good comeback, when Zemo looked at Bucky with a more serious look.

“Зимний солдат,” (Winter Soldier) Zemo said in perfect Russian. “Атака.”

Just as a hand fell on Zemo’s shoulder beside you, Bucky was quick to move around you and grab the man’s arm, and step into action. He pulled the man from the group and with a glance at everyone, he engaged. You watched as he practically laid the man out in full force, before another charged at him. With another hit and kick, that one went flying into a third attacker. You couldn’t help but take a small step forward with the rest of the crowd, as Bucky just… Demolished anything that came at him. Another man was flung forward and Bucky reacted perfectly on time, and before you knew it he had a man sprawled out on the bar top right in front of you.

The audible sound of guns readying made everyone freeze as Zemo carried on his Russian to Bucky, keeping the act up. But your eyes didn’t leave the back of Bucky’s head. He dropped the man from the bar and slowly turned around and finally met your look. You wanted to say something, you’re not a total asshole, but you couldn’t. Not even when you felt someone’s hand move some hair from off your shoulder and expose your skin from behind. You sucked a deep breath in, but the man’s touch wasn’t on your long. Bucky’s vibranium hand was quick to snatch the perp’s hand from your neckline, and you could hear the crack and Bucky bent (probably broke) his wrist and sent him flying back.

You missed where the bartender said Selby would see everyone, you were too entranced on Bucky’s gaze. But Zemo was quick to redirect your attention, and off everyone went to meet his contact. You… You just couldn’t believe how easily Bucky fell back into that, and didn’t want to think about the fact you fell back easily into your past too.

So things did not go as planned, as many of the missions you go on unfold. Lucky for everyone, an unexpected old friend came to the rescue. Everyone else seemed okay with it, but what were the odds Sharon Carter was in Madripoor? Either way, you were glad to get out of these clothes, and Sharon was nice enough to lend not only a shower, but something normal to wear. Really it was a sweater like material shirt and some dressy pants to go with it, but it beat the dress and heels.

You had zoned out of the conversation occurring around you as everyone settled in. You let out a content sigh, maybe you could actually get some rest tonight-

“Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right?” You could hear Sharon say and your eyes shot open, and you stared at the floor. “The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy.”

“He knows,” Zemo chimed in with his wisdom. “And not so deep down.”

“By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon asked and you looked up a little higher to watch the exchange.

“Don’t get me started,” Buck replied, and you watched as Sharon came around the couch to sit beside him.

“Please,” she scoffed. “You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr America! Cap’s best friend.”

You couldn't help the fist that formed by your side. What the fuck was her deal? You couldn’t just sit here and listen to this. You stood from your place and everyone looked your way for the first time since this conversation started. You looked over all of them and shook your head, and without a word went to the door that you had come in from, pulled it open, and shut it behind you.

You had no destination in mind besides just getting the hell out of the building for some air. The boots you had on clanked through the halls, and eventually you made it back to the front of the building, where the two guards glanced your way for a moment before going back to whatever they were doing. You walked past them and turned down the sidewalk, just far enough away so you could lean against the wall and cross your arms.

You just wanted to be alone for a bit. But that didn’t last very long before you could see Bucky coming your way.

He didn’t say anything at first as he joined your side. You both stared ahead at the lit up skyline of Madripoor. It still smelled a bit, not as strong as Low Town, but enough to where you noticed it. Bucky slid his hands into his pockets and you could see him glance your way.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked.

“Not really,” you replied. After a few moments you glanced his way, and sighed. He was putting in an effort… Maybe you could too. “I just… Don’t get it. How can she believe that after everything that’s happened? People died to get the universe back to how it was. But that’s bullshit to her?

“Natasha’s sacrifice was a joke? Vision was just a machine? Tony’s life didn’t matter?” You asked and Bucky watched as you worked your way through your thoughts. You blinked a bit, maybe to fight back some tears, but he watched you shake your head and lean back against the wall. “I get that her life was turned upside down. But she wasn’t the only one.”

“Maybe not,” Bucky replied and turned to you fully. “But people deal with things differently. Sam and I owe it to her to make it right, and her tune may change.”

You nodded a bit at his words and let out a small hum. Bucky looked your stance over and gripped his hand closed in his pocket. “Are you okay..? About tonight-”

“Tonight was fine,” you reassured him. “Besides, we should be asking you that.”

“It was nothing,” Bucky tried to say and you shook your head.

“I saw that look in your eyes, Bucky,” you said, averting your gaze back to the skyline. “You can say it didn’t mean anything, but I know it did. We have the same fucked up past. Like you said, I may be the only one who understands what’s going on in your head.”

Bucky couldn’t help but curse himself for implanting that thought in your head, and when he didn’t move to talk about how tonight really made him feel, when you both did return to the rest of the group, the thought lingered in his mind. He so easily went into the Winter Soldier mode, it was too natural. And he couldn’t help but worry about that, but also how easy it may be for you if something triggers that repressed memory of the Phantom program. Sooner or later he knew the Wakandans would come, and if he could get back in their good grace’s… Could they help you too?

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