#the last few days of march better fucking pull through
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Your Daddy Did It Better
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summary | James Barnes Jr, or JJ as the world calls him, doesn’t quite know how to treat a woman. Luckily for you though, his daddy sure does
warnings | smut, age gap (reader is in her 20's), riding, couch sex, light drinking, billionaire!bucky, oral (f. receiving), bucky gives the reader a facial if you know what i mean, 18+ ONLY
this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter
divider by @princessbellecerise
James Steven Barnes was a fucking asshole.
You suspect that he may have gotten that trait from his father, Bucky; but even in the few times you had met the billionaire, he had never acted quite as douchy as his son did.
The Bucky Barnes that you knew and grew up seeing in tabloids was at least respectful after he got done with women, and at least had the decency to tell them that it was over to their face before he moved on.
Unfortunately though, it seemed somewhere along the lines he forgot to pass that trait onto his son, which was precisely the reason you were fuming and stopping your way through Barnes Tower, fists nearly ripping the paper of the magazine due to your death grip.
Anger coursed through your veins as you thought about the front page, which showed your supposed ‘boyfriend’ front and center at a Knick’s game with some model that was way too old for him. But, there was no doubt that she was beautiful.
You couldn’t lie; that was part of the reason you were salty. But the other part was because you had just seen JJ two days ago, and he made no mention to tell you that whatever you guys had was over. Nor that he was already back on the market.
He didn’t even have the decency to send you a text, so, after staring at the picture for a while and slightly crying your eyes out, anger began to replace your sadness and you came up with a plan.
Sure it wasn’t the best of plans, and sure you may be a little out of your mind, barging into the most elite building in New York. But you need to confront him, face-to-face. And since you still had your keycard JJ had given you since he was too lazy to come to your apartment, you marched right on in the tower like it was your own home.
The elevator dinged and your high heels clicked against the polished tiles, your eyes blazing as you made your way across the floor.
The fancy decor that you usually marveled at was the last thing on your mind. You were on a mission, and nothing was going to stop you. Nothing was going to get in the way of you laying into JJ, or possibly throwing the magazine at his head. You were going to make him pay and not even security was going to get in your way, if he called them.
You would only leave this building kicking and screaming, you decided. And if JJ tried to kick you out, well then—
“Oof!”
Your whirlwind of thoughts were suddenly cut off when a figure smacked into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs and almost knocking you over until hands reached out to grab you. They wrapped around your figure and pulled you close so that you wouldn’t hit the floor. Shocked, a gasp left your lips, and you quickly held onto whoever it was, your fingers digging into the expensive material of their suit.
For a moment, you thought that it was JJ that caught you and anger bubbled in your stomach. After all, the tufts of dark-haired you saw were exactly the same shade, and his build felt roughly the same.
But when the person set you back on your feet, it only took you a second to realize that it was not JJ that caught you.
It was his dad.
“Bucky!”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, as did his while you both stared at each other. Not really sure what to do, Bucky let go of you, and he awkwardly cleared his throat while you shuffled back.
“Y/N,” He said, equally shocked. “I wasn’t…expecting you today. Is everything alright?”
His light blue eyes glanced you over and while you didn’t seemed to be dressed in any kind of date attire, he was under the assumption that you were there for JJ. He knew that your relationship with his son was mostly physical, but Bucky still hoped he raised him well enough to at least treat you to a date every once in a while.
“No, no everything is not okay,” Is what you wanted to tell him. “Your son is an absolute asshole.”
The words were so close from falling from your lips, but you held back, pressing them together so you wouldn’t say something you’d regret. It was already bad enough that JJ probably didn’t want you there, you didn’t need his dad trying to kick you out too. So you held it together and tried to make it look like you weren’t crying just a few minutes before, tilting your head away from Bucky and focusing your eyes on the floor as you spoke.
“Everything’s fine,” You said, your voice a little weak but normal nevertheless. “I was just…I was just looking for JJ. Have you seen him?”
Bucky reeled back in surprise once again. “JJ?” He repeated your question and answered before you could even confirm what you said. “No honey, I’m afraid JJ isn’t here. I think he went to see a basketball game or something. I would’ve thought…I did think you were going with him.”
So he didn’t know.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying not to start crying again as you slowly shook your head.
“We broke up,” You said, unfortunately having to break the news to him. Bucky’s eyes widened. “He…He went to that basketball game with some other chick, and I came here to hopefully confront him. I…”
Wordlessly, you held out the magazine for Bucky to grab, and he did. His blue eyes scanned the paper, eyebrows furrowing together until eventually, anger settled on his face.
He looked at the cover of the magazine and noted that the girl was not, in fact, you. Bucky had never seen her in his life. As a matter of fact, he was pretty sure JJ had never met her either, which made the situation even worse.
He sighed, lowering the magazine to look at you. When he did, that’s when Bucky finally realized that you had started crying, even though you tried your best to hide it from him.
“Oh doll.”
“I’m sorry,” You instinctively tried to move away from him as he reached out, attempting to comfort you. But you just thought he was trying to pity you, shame festering inside of you as you sobbed quietly.
You didn’t want to cry, but seeing how his own father reacted made you think that JJ really was an asshole.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry it’s just—”
“Hey,” Bucky reached out to gently tug you towards him, and somehow you found yourself crying in his arms as he shook his head and wrapped you in his embrace. Your tears stained his Tom Ford suit, your mascara no doubt ruining the expensive fabric. But Bucky didn’t seem to mind as he awkwardly held you close, letting you cry into his chest like many other young ladies had before you. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I know.”
“It’s just that,” You sniffle, pulling away with tears still your cheeks, “It’s just that we were together only just two days ago and I can’t believe he—I can’t believe he just ditched me like that. Like what the fuck man? Who raised you?”
Bucky slightly chuckled as you shook your head, disbelief settling on your face. You wiped your tears, your hands coming back stained but at the moment you didn’t care.
You were heartbroken, and you hated to admit it but you really did like JJ. Despite knowing the type of guy he was rumored to be, you thought you’d just give him a chance. You thought you’d give him an opportunity to prove that everyone was wrong about him. JJ wasn’t an asshole. He was just a typical rich kid that had everything at his disposal. Sure he went through girls quick, but you never once thought he’d dispose of you.
Not like this. Not to the point where you were crying in front of his father as Bucky looked at you sympathetically.
“Welp, not my proudest parenting moment,” He admitted, “But the kid does have his way of charming people. I honestly thought he would use it for good as he got older. You know for like business and stuff? But it seems the more he grows up, the more broken hearts he leaves in his trail.”
“Huh. Well I guess that makes him just like his father then,” You chuckled bitterly through your sniffles, causing Bucky to laugh little bit. The sound took you by surprise, not expecting him to laugh over your dig. But you liked the way it sounded: soft, but mature. Everything that a man should’ve been. Everything that his son should’ve been.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Bucky shrugged. “But believe me—I never once raised him to act like this. I wanted him to be better, you know? But I guess eventually, everyone goes down their own path.”
“You should cut him off then,” You quickly suggested, before you could even stop the words coming from your mouth. “If you cut him off, he can’t charm girls anymore and he most certainly won’t be sitting courtside with anymore models.”
You were dead serious, but this—this was what caused Bucky to double over in laughter, clutching his stomach and letting out a hearty, genuine laugh. He shook his head at you, pointing his index finger, and you couldn’t lie, you laughed too. After all, who just goes around telling rich dads to cut off their entitled sons? Not enough people apparently, because there were still a plethora of entitled sons out there.
Bucky may have thought JJ was one, but after losing his mother, he was all he had. You suppose you understood why Bucky kept enabling him in that way, but it still made you no less salty that he got to live the good life while everybody else around him got left in the dust.
“You,” Amusement danced in Bucky’s eyes as he chuckled some more before finally sobering up, pressing his lips. “You’re funny.” He said like it was a compliment. “You…you’ve got a sense a humor, I’ll tell you that sweetheart. Not a lot of girls my son brings home actually have a decent personality.”
“What can I say? It’s probably the reason he ditched me,” You said.
“Probably,” Bucky agreed. “Unfortunately, he doesn’t do well with actual conversation. As a father, it’s a little embarrassing when your son goes for beauty instead of brains and beauty.”
“Oh, is that what you think I have?” You teased him slightly, your mood beginning to pick up a little. Bucky nodded. “Well, you’d think if I was smart, I wouldn’t go after somebody with an obvious track record.”
“Well we can all be dazzled by the charm,” Bucky said, staring intensely. “But you gotta know that eventually, all of that stuff goes away and in a few years time he’ll realize how stupid he was to let you go. Trust me, beauty fades fast and when that’s all you have in common with someone, most relationships tend to not to last long.”
“So what you’re saying is JJ’s gonna break up with the model?” You questioned.
“…Eventually,” Bucky hesitated to say, “But for now, she’s young. So he’s gonna be all over her like white on rice.”
“Bucky! What the fuck— you are not helping!”
Instinctively, you reached out to shove his shoulder which caused Bucky to be even more surprised. But he could see the smile tugging at your lips, hear the playfulness in your voice as you said this, so he laughed even harder.
He appreciated someone joking around with him without being all cautious about his titles. Bucky didn’t know what it was, but something about the way you seemed to just relax around him made him happy. It made him inch forward, taking a cautious step while you watched him.
“Oh yeah?” He challenged quietly, and you never took your eyes off of him as he stepped as close as he could. “Well then do tell me Miss L/N,” Bucky copied your playfulness, “What would help you get over my son?”
The tone of his voice made you shiver slightly, as did the closeness of his body. You just now realized it, but Bucky’s eyes were awfully brown, so dark that you found yourself almost getting lost in them. You felt like your world was swirling as you looked inside of those mischievous brown eyes, but yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away.
Daring to be bold, you stepped closer, and Bucky was nearly on the floor when suddenly you crained your head up, put your lips straight to his ear and whispered,
“How about a drink, Mr. Barnes?”
“And then I said: I thought you were smaller!”
You laugh loudly as Bucky very proudly told you the story of how he reunited with his best friend Steve, the man JJ had also been named after. It was sort of a sad story, but you didn’t know that because Bucky left out all the bad parts. He just wanted to make you laugh and was just glad to see that you were entertained nonetheless.
It was a stark contrast to the way you had shown up on his doorstep only an hour ago. Now, your tears were replaced by laughter, your frown with a large grin, and there were no longer any traces of anger on your face. You were only content as you sipped on your drink, playing into all the jokes and shenanigans Bucky had presented you with.
Honestly, hanging out with him had been pretty fun and you had no fucking clue how it all started but you weren’t complaining as you downed your drink. This was your first one, so you weren’t even tipsy, just relaxed enough to have a good time. It also helped push away the feeling that maybe hanging out with your ex’s father wasn’t such a good idea.
Nonsense though, your brain had told you multiple times, because Bucky was funny, charming and most importantly: he was nothing like his son.
As he entertained you, you began to see less and less how JJ could even be related to a man like this. A man so confident and hilarious, and just so sure of himself. It was like every move Bucky made, he made with a purpose. He did it because he knew exactly the reaction he would get from someone. He was so perceptive, and he picked up that you needed cheering up, so he kept making a fool out of himself just to make you laugh.
And honestly, you were beginning to question why you ever wasted your time on JJ in the first place. When clearly, you had chosen the wrong Barnes.
The thought had struck you several times in the last hour, but you never once entertained it, refusing to give your brain that satisfaction. You told yourself that Bucky was just being nice inviting you for a drink. That he just felt bad and didn’t want you stumbling home angry and sad.
You told yourself that it was better for him that you didn’t come looking for his son again. But…a part of you wanted to believe there were other reasons.
It only made heart your pound faster as he began to speak again.
“Man. I swear I can never get enough of telling that story,” He said cheekily, leaning back on his fancy sofa. The suit that he was wearing crinkled, and the scotch in his hand swirled before he took a sip of it.
You admired him.
You admired anybody that could drink straight liquor, because Lord knows you couldn’t. Lord knows not even his own son could, which made you snort at the thought.
“Well, it is a wonderful story Mr. Barnes,” You told him, swirling your own drink. “I’m sure it was even better to witness all those years ago.”
“Oh, come on now darling. Don’t make it seem like I’m a fossil,” Bucky waved you off, and you couldn’t deny the way your stomach fluttered at the nickname. It made you feel something that you hadn’t felt before; an emotion that you desperately wanted to push down but was rising the more time you spent with Bucky.
Desire was beginning to creep into your veins, and it didn’t help that you had certainly took notice of just how handsome Mr. Barnes was, and just how good that three-piece suit clung to his body. You began to wonder things that you should most definitely not be wondering. But still, it was like your brain produced the thoughts on its own and you couldn’t help but think that Bucky looked sexy all relaxed like that.
You curled your lips, and you knew you were beginning to get yourself into trouble. You sipped your drink once again.
“Oh, trust me. The last thing I’m calling you is old Mr. Barnes,” You retorted kindly. Bucky looked up as a smirk began to form on your cheeks. “In fact, you’re probably one of the youngest people I know in spirit, most definitely. It seems that even though the years have passed, they haven’t yet caught up with you. And well, you’re pretty spry for an older fella.”
You batted your lashes at him, causing Bucky to sputter a little bit. A mischievous look grew in your eyes, and when you winked at him something began to stir inside of him.
Perhaps it was your humor, or the way you knew just when to be sarcastic and when to be genuine, just like him. Maybe it was that that drew him towards you, making Bucky sit up a little bit as he studied you.
With blue eyes observing everything, Bucky noted that you were young, yes, but you certainly weren’t new to the world, nor ignorant of it. From what you had told him, you were in grad school and had experienced heartbreak and failure. And though you weren’t nearly as old or mature as he was, Bucky could sense that you definitely were years above your own peers.
Years above his own son, which Bucky began to question if he really was his son, if he had passed up a woman like this.
A woman so easy to get along with that he didn’t even notice it was beginning to approach two hours since you had been there.
“Spry?” Bucky rose an eyebrow and chose to ignore the thought that you might need to go home soon. Nodding your head, Bucky laughed at your words.
“Oh very spry indeed Mr. Barnes. In fact, I bet you could run me and outlive me,” You giggled.
“Well…” Bucky pretended to be in thought before carefully shoving off his blazer, flexing his biceps which made the most unholy of thoughts come into your mind. “I suppose I do lift a little on the side. Mostly when I’m not busy with meetings, but I mean the biceps speak for themselves, don’t they?”
“I suppose they do.” You sipped on your wine so that Bucky couldn’t see how bothered you had gotten. Your legs crossed, your body language beginning to change. Something stirred in the pit of your stomach, causing you to shift slightly.
You could still see his biceps peeking out from under his shirt even with him not flexing. It made your mouth just the tiniest bit dry as Bucky looked at you.
He didn’t want you to go home, but he knew that it was entering the odd hours of the morning and the last thing he needed was paparazzi photographing a young woman leaving his tower this late. Not to mention a young woman that had been seen with this son. Oh, Bucky realized the scandal it would cause and decided he was way past those days.
So, a plan began to form in his mind.
Maybe you didn’t have to leave, he told himself. Maybe…maybe you could stay after all. He thought about this, and then before he could stop himself, Bucky began to speak.
“You know…it’s getting kind of late.” He tried to sound as casual as possible without his words sounding rehearsed. Immediately, you perked up, worrying that he may kick you out. But luckily, it was just the opposite. “I know JJ once told me you lived a little ways out of town. A far walk I imagine; and getting an Uber probably won’t be easy. I’m sure you know this by now, but this tower has a lot of rooms. Why don’t you take one for the night and rest up here? You can leave first thing in the morning but I’d just hate to see a young lady be out on the streets of New York by herself.”
At this, you couldn’t stop the smile that made its way over your face, nor the laugh of delight as you found yourself eagerly accepting Bucky’s proposal.
“Yes. I think that sounds fair. Thank you, Mr. Barnes. For being so kind.”
“Yeah.”
Was that what it was? Bucky truly being kind, or was he only letting you stay for his own selfish intentions?
Probably both honestly. But truly, Bucky knew he wasn’t a bad enough person to expect you to do anything for him in return. His thoughts may have been running wild, but he wasn’t so bad as to bribe a young girl like that. Not that he had to, because you were already halfway on that road before you even stood up.
When you did though, you were suddenly reminded of how long it had been since you had drank and you couldn’t stop the woozy feeling in your head as you set the glass down. Bucky caught you once again before you hit the floor, your nausea causing you to trip over the expensive carpet. You landed in his arms almost like a fairytale. Your eyes met his, and you could see the worry that spread in them.
“Are you all right?” He asked.
It was a simple question. So, so simple that you should’ve just been able to answer with ‘yes’ and been done with it. You should’ve been, but somehow you just couldn’t. Somehow all the decency and all the warning bells that told you this was not a good idea suddenly left your mind. All of a sudden, you were lucid but you didn’t even feel like it as you leaned up and did something you never in a million years thought you would’ve done.
You kissed Bucky.
You don’t know what the hell got into you. Truly, you didn’t. You didn’t know whether it was the alcohol, sheer stupidity, or just a fuck-this-I’m-going-for-it mentality. But whatever it was, it had you kissing Bucky Barnes like it was your last day on this earth, your head spinning from how hard you pressed your lips to his.
Your lips were on his, and honestly it took Bucky more time than he’d like to admit to do something about it. At first, he just stood there a little bit confused. He didn’t register that you were kissing him until you tried to move your mouth and he just…stood still. He didn’t register that you…that you wanted him until you suddenly pulled away with slight panic on your face.
“Oh my God,” You said in realization, “Bucky I’m so—”
Bucky didn’t even let you finish the sentence, because the fuck-it mentality embraced him too and suddenly you were both carefree as you swapped spit.
Bucky had his mouth on yours, and you were kissing him with so much passion and oh my God you were so young and this was so wrong but the man couldn’t find it in himself to stop.
Despite everything in his brain telling him that this was a bad idea, his body simply would not allow him to listen, too engrossed by the feeling of your soft lips.
Cherry Chapstick—that’s what you had been wearing. But Bucky was sure that by the time he was done with you, that taste would be nothing but a fleeting memory. He pressed his tongue out to try to get some more of it, and that’s when his tongue started to slip into your mouth. Gasping, you let him in and that’s when your bodies began to fall back onto the couch.
Bucky landed first with a small grunt, and with this new sitting position you were able to straddle his lap and hook your legs on either side of him.
Bucky’s arms then came to wrap around your waist, wasting no time to explore your body—regrettably through your clothes. You had been wearing a simple skirt and top, but even that felt like too much as Bucky suddenly became desperate to get underneath them.
A hot desire developed over you both, and you couldn’t stop yourself from suddenly breaking the kiss, putting your hands on his nice blazer, and tearing it off with ease. You threw it somewhere in the corner that you didn’t quite care about, looking at Bucky for only a second before devouring his lips once again.
He tasted like scotch and cigars, the pinnacle of maturity in your opinion. He was so experienced and the thought of all the things he could show you, all the ways he could make you feel suddenly made you groan and start to grind on his lap.
Bucky panted into your mouth as he felt your warm heat moving against him, the perfectly tailored pants suddenly feeling too tight as his erection grew bigger.
You were greedy as you drank him in, like Bucky was the sweetest nectar you had ever tasted. And now that you had gotten a sample, you couldn’t get enough.
You were insatiable as you eventually managed to get his button down shirt off, feeling him slip his own hands under your clothes.
He felt your soft, hot skin and squeezed, liking the way you jumped in his arms. He never once broke the kiss, liking the taste of your mouth far too much. But that didn’t mean Bucky couldn’t explore other areas with his hands, and before you knew it, he had his hands touching all over your body and leaving fire in its wake.
You wiggled a little bit as Bucky traveled lower and lower, eventually jumping again when he made contact with your cotton panties.
Bucky smiled into your mouth, satisfaction flooding his veins when he noticed your arousal had already dampened them.
Slowly, you began to grind a little bit on his hand and Bucky groaned as the sensation of it all made him feel like he was burning up. He felt like if he didn’t do something now, he would literally burst into flames. So, as much as he loved the taste of your mouth, he decided he needed something more than that.
Pulling away from you, a trail of spit dribbled down your chin and coated the frown that you were now sporting. You didn’t wanna pull away from him, but Bucky reassured you with his eyes that what he had planned was much better.
He tapped on your thighs and pushed on your chest a little bit, letting you know that he wanted you to lay down.
Excitement flooded your veins as your back suddenly hit the couch, your shirt pulled almost all the way up and your skirt flipped.
Bucky could see nothing but your stomach and your cotton covered pussy, choosing these two things to focus on as he got on his knees on the couch.
He hovered over you, and at first, you thought he was going to kiss you again until suddenly, his head dipped down. You moaned as his hands begin to massage your breasts, the feeling of his touch driving you crazy. Even though it was only through your clothes, you began to squirm; pushing down on his hips with your foot so that Bucky quickly got the message.
“Wow. Eager are we?” He smirked, and the whine that you let out went away as quickly as it came, when Bucky suddenly yanked your bra down.
You were sure that the front straps had broken, but that was the last thing you cared about. You were only focused on his plump lips that were headed towards your breast. And sure enough, Bucky finally made the first contact with your body when he wrapped his lips around your sensitive bud. Th action caused you to moan out, quickly running your fingers through his hair as he licked, sucked, circled the bud with his tongue.
Skilled he was, because you swore you had never gotten this much pleasure from a man sucking on your tits. Sure many had tried, but it never felt like this. It never felt like actual pleasure until now, Bucky’s tongue working miracles.
Honestly, it made you wonder just what else he could do. And as if he could read your mind, Bucky suddenly abandoned your nipples and trailed his mouth further down your body. At first, you wanted to protest at the lack of stimulation. But the feeling was quickly replaced when Bucky got rid of your panties in one swift pull. He looked you in the eye, and you could see his smirk as he took in your pouty lips, the way your chest heaved and the way your eyes got wide. He took in how fucking gorgeous you looked but man — he bet you sounded even better.
It was this thought that lead Bucky to finally dip his head where you needed him to be; you letting out the sweetest of moans as his lips attached to your clit.
Bucky pleasured you in a way that most boys your age refused to even consider. They never seemed to consider what women actually wanted, but Bucky knew. And damn, did he know it well.
He took your clit in between his teeth and gently grazed over it, teasing you and enjoying the way your hips bucked against him. He had to hold you down before he really got started on you, and when he did, and there was nobody on this earth that could convince Bucky that what the two of you were doing was wrong.
So what if you had dated his son. His son was stupid; even Bucky could see that now.
JJ was beyond stupid to pass up this gorgeous woman, who tasted just as sweet as she looked. Who tasted so fucking good that Bucky lapped and sucked up every little dribble of arousal that you had. He sucked on your clit and even began to use his fingers, absolutely determined to taste you and your entirety. Nothing in life had ever enticed Bucky more, except for maybe the sounds that you were making.
Man, did you sound absolutely gorgeous as you wiggled and thrashed, but never quite fully pulled away from his pleasure. Man, did you look so sexy with your head thrown back, eyes closed, and lips parted. Bucky swore he never saw a better site in his life, which egged him to pump his fingers even faster. He was determined, determined to make you cum on his tongue and determined to show you that this was how a real man pleasured a woman. A real man always put her satisfaction before his, which was why Bucky wasn’t even gonna fuck you until you had came at least once.
And fuck—did you.
You swear you had never screamed louder in your life, your body shaking as you came all over Bucky’s expensive suit and couch. You were crying out from the almost abusive pleasure, but not once did Bucky remove his mouth from your pussy. Not until he was sure he had gotten every last drop.
He wanted to taste everything that he could. Every little part of you; and when he succeeded at that he then wanted you to taste yourself.
He wanted for you to know how sweet and absolutely incredible you were.
He brought his mouth back up to latch his lips on yours, and it wasn’t long before your tongue was tangled with his. Bucky got what he wanted when you suddenly squeaked, surprised at how you tasted. It was indeed sweet—thanks to you prioritizing fruit in your diet. Bucky almost chuckled at the way your eyes flew open, but he was too busy breaking the quick kiss to pull down the last bit of clothing that separated the two of you.
It seemed like he couldn’t get those damn panties off fast enough—you giggling and offering to help when he cursed more than enough times.
Bucky leaned over you and, while you worked on your underwear, he began to focus on his own. He unbuckled his belt, yanked down his pants, and freed himself from the torture that was that damn suit.
Now that you were both naked, you eyed his erection deliciously as you both suddenly set up.
It wasn’t like you were a virgin, so you both silently agreed there was no need to take it easy in missionary. So, you got on top of Bucky and hooked your legs over his once again.
A silent glance was shared between the two of you just moments before you sank down on Bucky’s cock, pressing your hips until there was nothing left out except his balls. They pressed against your ass and reminded you of how deep he truly was, how absolutely delicious it felt to have him sheathed inside of you.
Bucky let out a sigh of content, and it wasn’t long before you had him moaning, standing on your toes and lightly bouncing yourself on his cock.
Fuck—you sure did know how to make a man come quick, seeing as you were currently squeezing the dear life out of Bucky. He could barely keep it together as your walls sucked him in, it having been a while since he fucked somebody this tight.
But tight you were, and young—though he’d never guess it by the way you rode him like a pro. You swirled your hips, placing your hand on his chest to steady yourself and then kept bouncing. Up and down your tits went, mesmerizing Bucky almost as much as your pussy did.
You yourself were just enticing, if there ever was a word for it.
Bucky wasn’t quite sure how he’d let you go after this, or if he even wanted to. The feeling of you wrapped around him was definitely something he could get used to, so he tried not to think about that and focused on the present.
He focused on the way you moaned and clenched around him. On the way your pussy squelched every time you bounced yourself up on your feet. He focused on your eyes, staring at him intensely, and then your lips as he leaned in to capture them.
Due to his swift kiss, you had lost your pace, but that was all right because Bucky decided to take over then. He held you close, and then he bucked his hips upwards, fucking into you at a rapid pace. You moaned into his mouth, and Bucky could feel your ass jiggling, your tits bouncing as he pounded into you. He could feel the way your stomach was beginning to clench again, a telling sign of yet another orgasm.
He smirked, satisfied when you started to grip him for dear life. Not even a few seconds later, you did, in fact, cream all over him with a small cry.
The mess on his couch and on his thighs was inevitable, but as Bucky reached his own high, he thought it best not to dirty up his furniture anymore.
Instead, as the pit in his stomach finally grew to its peak, he suddenly pulled out of you and got you on your knees, cumming on your face right as you opened your mouth.
Eagerly, you let the hot ropes paint your face and even swallowed some with a grin on your lips. You couldn’t open your eyes to see the pleasure that you had caused Bucky, but you could hear him groaning, the sound of him jacking off invading your ears until there was nothing else left to decorate your face.
He smiled in satisfaction, loving the way that you had been the one to bring him to his wits end and it wasn’t long before you could see Bucky again.
He retrieved his extremely expensive shirt and used it to wipe off your face, you giving him a giggle as your vision became clearer. You stuck out your tongue, showing him evidence that you had swallowed the bit of cum that had gotten on your lips.
Bucky chuckled, and it was at that moment he realized that yes, his son was an idiot for letting you go.
He’d be damned if he made the same mistake.
BONUS
You made your way into your chemistry class, not even bothered by JJ’s presence as you passed him. In fact, the last thing you were thinking of was that Barnes, seeing as the remnants of his father still lingered just underneath your shirt.
Had it been any more see-through, you would’ve had a reason to be extremely smug as JJ made his way over to you with his friends snickering in the background.
You knew they were talking about you, but you barely paid attention to any of them until suddenly, the youngest Barnes was standing beside you with his arms crossed.
“Yes?”
You looked up at him, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say he was annoyed by your lack of reaction. Your indifference towards him and the model situation clearly bothered him, which made you wanna smirk but you didn’t.
“Well you certainly don’t look bothered,” He commented, casually leaning against your desk. You rolled your eyes, but you weren’t too irritated until he began tapping his pencil on your table.
“Well that’s because I had a pretty good weekend — besides the fact that you ditched me,” You snapped, trying to push him away.
But JJ didn’t budge.
It was then that you remembered he was every bit as stubborn as his father was, despite being less than half the man Bucky was.
“Oops,” A sarcastic smile ghosted on JJ’s face. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to be ashamed of what he did. “I just got caught up you know; business and such.”
“Business.” You pondered on this word before you slowly turned to look at him, confidently being able to stare into his brown eyes. After all, you had found yourself growing fonder and fonder of that shade, just not on him. “That’s interesting. I didn’t know business meant going on a date with a model.”
“Super model,” He made sure to correct you, “And well, you know how it is these days. I’m a Rolling Stone; just like my daddy I hear.”
God bless him, he sounded so proud and it took everything in you not to tell him right then and there. It took every particle of self-restraint you had not to scream out to the entire university that you had fucked his dad, cause you were no longer in the mood for JJ’s childish games.
But instead — thinking of Bucky — you restrained yourself and simply offered JJ a smile.
“Well, the way I hear it, your daddy did it better,” You winked at him, and suddenly nothing in the world could seemed to bother you anymore. Knowing that you had completed the ultimate form of revenge and gained yourself a new suitor in the process put you at peace.
But unfortunately for JJ, you were just getting started.
Just you wait, asswipe. I’ll be your step mama soon enough, you thought devilishly, your phone buzzing just as the boy made his way back to his seat.
Bucky Barnes
Hey honey, you free tonight?
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#winter soldier#winter solider x reader#winter soldier smut#bucky smut
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At War
Luke Castellan x Reader [fem!daughter of Apollo]
Summary: There's nothing like some friendly competition, but when planning rival parties, you and Luke are a little less than friendly.
Word count: 2k
Every year, there came a time for the retreats- a chance for children of the gods to bond and have some special fun. One big retreat seemed pointless, so camp faculty allowed two. The two retreats accidentally split the boys and girls, and naturally, they turned into an (unofficial) competition. As one of the oldest and most experienced campers- you’d been volunteering to champion a retreat for years. Traditionally, you’ve hosted a slumber party equipped with PJs, dancing, games, movies, braid trains, nail polish, and basically anything anyone could want. You also, of course, have the best food. Each year, it’s been a hit, and it’s only gotten better with time.
The only problem is that you have tough competition. The day after the retreats, you always hear about what happened at the other one. Paintball, camping, fishing, mad romps through the wood, scary stories- barbecue. Everyone loved it. And every year, you’ve had to quietly conceal your anger and jealousy. It pains you to admit that Luke sure can throw a party (maybe even better than you can). But this year, you are more determined than ever to outdo him.
The two of you have long been in competition, and things have only escalated. As hilarious as Mr. D found both your antics last year, Chiron was extremely unhappy about the fact the two of you had exceeded the budget by miles. He’d told you both to reign it in this year or no more retreats. When he felt that didn’t sufficiently move you, he threatened to let other people plan them. You both caved and vowed to stick to the budget this year.
You’re always a little frantic the day of, and today is no different. To your chagrin, Luke is cool as a cucumber. It pisses you off to no end.
“Nervous?” A smug voice voice asks from behind your back. You drop the spoon you were using to push mashed potatoes around your plate.
You turn slowly on the bench, “Why should I be?"
“Usually, you’re pulling out your hair before the retreats,” he says skeptically, “perfectionism taking its toll.”
“Yeah? Well, my perfectionism makes my parties perfect,” you flaunt. The few sisters that can stand to be around you when you’re stressed roll their eyes. It’s clear to them this is escalating.
“What about when Susie vomited in your bouncy house last year?” He taunts, and you glare at him. That girl should not have been jumping after four bags of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and two Redbulls- it was hardly your fault.
“How about when Aidan got a concussion after falling off the mechanical bull?” You snap back.
You don’t notice Luke’s shadow until he pipes in, “Are these people okay?”
“They signed waivers!” You say at the same time, and the new Poseidon kid takes a defensive step back. You send Luke a glare when you realize you spoke in sync. He huffs before smirking at you.
“Good luck with your sleepover,” he mocks, “You’re gonna need it.” Before you can reply, he marches away, protégée in tow.
“Eat shit!” You call out after him.
“That was weak, girl,” one of your sisters says.
“Shut up, I know,” you shake your head at her, “now come help me set up.” You drag her up by her elbow to make your sacrifices, then get to work.
Five hours later, the main hall looks great. Your disco ball is glimmering, the mini photo booth is equipped with feather boas and pink cowboy hats, the food is all laid out, and the stage you bribed some Hephaestus kids to build looks great.
“Perfect,” you whisper, pleased at your surroundings.
“Fucking finally!” Your sister throws her hands up and walks away. You’ve very likely driven most of your half-siblings insane today.
“Thanks for your help!” You call after her, and as she goes, you spot some prying eyes through the window. Percy, you think his name is, looks afraid now that you’ve caught him peering in through the window. In a few swift moves, you leave the room and block his exit from the patio.
“Can I help you?” You ask suspiciously.
“Just admiring your excellent disco theme,” he says, putting an ultra-sweet smile on his face. As charming as the boy is, you take your retreat very seriously and feel a deep-seated urge to protect it from potential sabotage.
“Mhmmm,” you nod, “and you wouldn’t happen to be reporting back to anyone about what you’ve seen?”
“Whaaaaaat?” Percy asks, awkwardly chuckling.
Your shoulders drop, of course, Luke would stoop to employing spies. You dig into your pocket and pull out a ten-dollar bill, “I’ll give you this if you act as a double agent.”
He eyes your money suspiciously, “Do you really think I can be bought?”
You roll your eyes and pull out another bill, “How’s twenty?”
“Pleasure doing business with you,” he grabs both bills from your hand and shakes it. Percy happily walks past you, shoving his new earnings into his pocket.
You grin, “Make sure he hears all about how awesome my party is!”
“I’m on it, boss,” he calls over his shoulder. After a short walk, he’s back to the boathouse lounge where Luke has been waiting for his report.
“Well?” The older boy asks him, jumping up from his spot on the couch.
Percy shakes his head solemnly, “Bad news, boss.”
“What?!” He asks, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me she went over budget. She didn't get another mariachi band, did she?” Percy shakes his head and files this new information away. With what he’s been hearing about the last few retreats, he’s almost sad to have missed them.
“No, but it does look super cool,” he nods, and it really wasn’t a lie- he saw a chocolate fountain on that snack table.
“Damn,” Luke’s face twitches in annoyance.
“But your party will be great too, I’m sure,” he smiles, nodding reassuringly.
“Of course, it will,” he says defensively, “make sure you check back in over there from time to time. I want to know how it’s progressing.”
“Sure,” Percy nods, but his concern at the competitiveness underlying this event grows. He wonders just how bad this will get tonight. But check back in he does, and he won’t deny he enjoys himself at the sleepover. Every time he visits, you give him a new sparkly mocktail, and the Aphrodite girls give him a new feather boa. At one point, he’s wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and eating some cake. He was very impressed when M&Ms fell out of the middle as you cut it. Apparently, it’s also one of your newest sisters’ birthdays- he’s heard whisperings of some big special present for her yet to come.
Each time Percy returns to the other retreat, he can see Luke get a little more tense. The fact that he’s exaggerating doesn’t help either. When he tells the older boy that you have an ice sculpture spitting Dr. Pepper, he thinks he sees steam pour from Luke’s ears. It’s not like people aren’t enjoying his party, but Percy can that Luke wants to one-up you and feels like he’s falling short.
“And I’ve heard she has a special surprise in store for Sophie since it’s her birthday. Apparently, she’s the newest addition to their cabin, so she wants to do something special,” Percy nods at him, eating a taco he had brought back from your party. Luke cuts him off by grabbing the taco from his hand just as he’s about to take another bite. “Hey!” He protests when Luke puts it right in the trash.
“When is this surprise?” He asks the twelve-year-old.
“The Aphrodite girls told me I should be back in like twenty minutes so I wouldn’t miss it,” Percy tells him.
“And when was that?”
“Like twenty minutes ago,” he shrugs, and Luke just stares at him. “Ohhhhh,” he says when he realizes how long it’s been.
“Come on,” Luke shakes his head and starts out the door, Percy in tow. They can hear the surprise before they see it, an ABBA song blasting out of the building. Only, they don’t realize who's performing it until they walk in. Along with two of your musically-inclined Apollo sisters, you’re dressed in bell bottoms and sleeves. And you look like you’re having the time of your life- until you spot them, that is.
“Look, look, look, look,” you pull the microphone away to mutter to Tanya. Her shock is visible, but you both keep performing anyway. The crowd goes wild at the end, and Sophie runs up on stage to give you a big hug. You let Tanya take over host duties and make your way through the crowd to the party crasher.
“That was,” Luke starts, but you are not keen to hear whatever he has to say about your outfit, or your performance, or your party.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
His expression instantly sours, “I wanted some Dr. Pepper from your ice sculpture, where is it?”
“What are you talking about?” You’re highly confused until Percy gives you the cut-it-out motion from behind Luke’s back. “We put it back in the freezer,” you say, and Percy gives you the thumbs up. No matter what you think of him, Luke’s not an idiot. He turns around in time to spot Percy’s gestures.
“Wait a second, are you two colluding?” He looks between the two of you in shock.
“You were colluding with him first,” you shrug, crossing your arms. “You really earned that twenty dollars, by the way,” you compliment the kid, and he gives you a pleased nod.
“Dude,” Luke turns toward Percy, betrayed.
“She outbid you,” he shrugs. “Hey, what if you guys just went to each other’s parties?”
You both eye the boy suspiciously, “Why would we do that?” You ask him, and Luke nods in agreement.
“Well, you’re both so desperate to know about the other’s party, so why don’t you just experience it for yourselves?” Percy asks, and when he feels you aren’t sufficiently moved by it, he tries again. “If you attend both parties, you can decide who wins.”
“Good enough for me,” Luke wanders off into your party.
“Yeah, okay,” you head for the door.
“Hopeless,” Percy mumbles, shaking his head.
An hour later, you and Luke meet in the middle of your respective parties. You stare at each other for a minute before you admit in sync, “I had fun.”
“We have to stop doing that,” you shake your head.
“Agreed.”
You’re both silent again for a minute. “The slip and slide was a good idea,” you say reluctantly, soap still in your hair, “low budget but lots of fun. Tubing was good too. And the campfire.” You had changed out of the disco attire and into shorts and a T-shirt over your swimsuit.
“Did you try-“
“Chris can really grill,” you nod. After some hesitance, you finally choke out a confession, “I am very displeased to call you the winner.”
“No way,” he shakes his head.
“What?”
“You totally won,” he shrugs, “the disco was killer.” You only now realize he changed into pajamas.
“You actually embraced the sleepover?”
He flicks some grass off your shoulder, “You gave my party a fair shot.” That’s true, and you nod, looking away for a second. “The chocolate fountain was a nice touch.”
“Thank you.”
“And I was trying to tell you earlier, but your performance was really cool,” he admits.
“Yeah?” A genuine grin grows on your face at this. Most everyone in the Apollo cabin loves music, but some of your half-siblings are more keen to perform than you. Hearing this, and from him especially, means a lot.
“Yeah,” he nods, smiling now too. “You’re the winner here.”
“Let’s call it a draw?” You offer, and he nods.
“What if we just worked together and planned one party next year?” He asked, and you pretend to consider it for a moment.
“That could be cool,” you nod, “imagine what we could do with the combined budget.”
He grins and scrunches his nose, “How about we enjoy this year’s party until then?”
“We could do that,” you nod, “where to?”
He swiftly wraps an arm over your shoulder and starts guiding you back to your party, “Let’s boogie.” You laugh, and he thinks it’s a sound he could get used to.
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I've been awake for too long so idk if this is coherent but I had fun <3
#luke castellan x reader#pjo fanfic#luke x reader#pjo series#luke castellan#pjo x reader#pjo tv show#charlie bushnell#luke castellan x you
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okay but your last annoying sweet gf katie fic had me thinking because i just know she would lose her mind if you ignored her - her ego can’t take it and she’s also secretly clingy af
so here’s my idea/req:
she’s been getting on your nerves a little too much, being all cocky and high and mighty about getting a ball into the net during training that you should have stopped and nutmegging you in the process (bc cmon we all know that she’d eat that up), she’s talking about it non stop so you ignore her to get her to shut up since she’s too quick with her verbal comebacks
only it doesn’t work because she is instantly all over you, doing stuff for you (housewife katie gotta make a comeback) and trying to get you to pay attention to her instead
when it doesn’t work, she just grabs you and forces you into a cuddle until you’re laughing again
nutmeg II k.mccabe
"press in and cut her off!" you heard jen yell over to you as your girlfriend hurtled down the wing, easily passing kimmy and kyra with a few steps. you ran toward her, intending to tap it away from her but you misread her speed, the girl easily stopping and tapping the ball through your open legs as you braced.
you watched on hopelessy after the humiliating enough nutmeg as katies ball soared through the air and swooshed into the back of the net, just skimming the tips of sabs glove as you sighed heavily.
"want some cinnamon for with that nutmeg darlin?" your girlfriend smacked your bum with a grin as she sprinted past you to celebrate with her team, the whistle blowing to end the game as katies team won 5-4.
"that doesn't even make any sense!" you yelled after her with a scowl, the irishwoman only flipping you the bird and sticking her tongue out as you rolled your eyes, kicking at the ground.
this was not something she would let you forget easily.
"-oh and she strikes again!" katie cheered loudly, pumping her fists in the air as she tapped her shinpad through your open legs, nutmegging you as you all showered and changed after training.
"you're so fucking annoying." you muttered, shouldering past her and heading for the showers, the older girl having relentlessly teased you all day about your mistake this morning
at first it was light hearted and of course dating the jokster for years you knew how to take it. but now, almost five hours later, your patience had gone and every little comment, jab and smirk was only rubbing you more and more the wrong way.
you rolled your eyes as you re-entered the change rooms now dressed and ready to leave, her cheeky grin greeting you as you did so, making yet another comment about her goal purposefully loud to steph beside her as you packed up your things.
"better watch it katie, might be single by matchday." jen teased as katie tried to pull you into a hug and you shoved her off, grabbing your bag and your headphones, storming off without another word.
"dog house for you tonight it seems macca."
"ah buzz off russo, she loves it."
it took an incredibly silent car ride home with you for katie to realise you may in fact not love it, pushing her away every chance she tried to lay her hand on your thigh, as she always did when driving.
your headphones covering your ears you stared out the window, arms crossed over your chest as you made a point to ignore her and every attempt at making conversation with you.
the moment she pulled in the driveway you were out of the car, popping the boot and grabbing your bag, marching to the front door and waiting impatiently with your headphones round your neck, katie unfortunately having the keys.
"after you gorgeous." the older girl opened the door, gesturing you inside with a charming smile as you refused to even look at her, striding inside as katie frowned, following you inside.
she winced as she heard the bedroom door slam, rubbing the back of her neck realising you were a lot more upset with her than she'd intended. so with a sigh she got to work, determined to make it up to you.
it was around an hour later when the bedroom door opened and you didn't even flinch, eyes trained to the tv as katie shuffled inside. "baby girl?" she tried calling out, huffing when you continued to ignore her.
"i made dinner, your favourite!" she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, slight hope spiking as you got up from the bed. her face fell when she tried to kiss you and you walked right past her, heading downstairs without a word.
"ah! allow me." she was quick to pull out your chair for you, pushing it in and hurrying into the kitchen, grabbing your plate. "made with love, so much love." katie smiled brightly, placing it down in front of you and trying to peck your lips as your head turned and her kiss fell to your cheek instead.
you didn't give her the satisfaction as you began to eat, not even waiting for her to sit down with her own plate as you normally would. "baby please, i'm sorry for the teasin." katie apologised as she sat across from you, your eyes trained down at your food.
"you did good in the gym babe, hit a new pb right?" silence.
"your bum looked well peachy in the new training kit." nothing.
"that goal you scored where you did the little flick and sweep around wally was glorious!" crickets.
"oi stop ignorin me!" the irishwoman whined, kicking you gently as you continued to blank her, determined to teach her a lesson. you finished your food in record time, standing to your feet and moving toward the sink as katie hurried after you.
"don't you dare! i'll do it gorgeous." she kissed your cheek and maneuvered you away, running the water to wash up the dishes as you left her to it, moving into the living room and settling into the sofa trying to find something to watch.
you were aware of katies movements around the house but you paid her no mind, engrossed in the latest episode of the kardashians, laughing to yourself as your girlfriend would pause to smile at the sound before returning to what she was doing.
awhile later she sat herself carefully down on the sofa, choosing to give you some space as you felt her eyes burn into the side of your head.
"so i did your washin and i put away all the clean clothes from yesterday, i stripped and remade the bed and sprayed that fabric softner scented shit you bought on the sheets, i cooked dinner and cleaned up afterwards." she listed off with her fingers, your eyes still trained to the tv as you didn't move a muscle.
"i packed your bag already for the trip away to villa on friday, i vacuumed the bedroom and i'll clean the bathroom after we shower tomorrow morning." katie continued, shuffling a little closer and laying her body down so her head laid in your lap.
"what else has a girl gotta do to get back in her missus's good books? help me out here babe i'm dyin!" katie groaned, staring up at you helplessly as you fought the urge to look at her, knowing the minute you did you'd crack and you wanted to carry this on for as long as possible.
"angel? love? baby girl? gorgeous? my everything? future mrs mccabe? superstar? peachy bum?" katie rattled off nickname after nickname, poking and prodding at your face as you swatted her hands away, jaw clenching as you held back a smile.
"right! thats it i've had enough of this then." you squealed as just as suddenly as you'd been sat comfortably on the couch you were thrown over the taller girls shoulder. though still not wanting to give her the satisfaction you crossed your arms and remained silent as she flicked off the lights and the tv, carrying you upstairs to the bedroom.
"look at me!" katie threw you down onto the bed, climbing on top of you as you looked to the ceiling. "i love ya, i love ya, i love ya, i love ya-" the irishwoman attacked your face with her lips, kissing over every inch of skin as your lips couldn't help but curl into a smile.
"alright fine! get off me mccabe." you gave in, the brunettes face lighting up at the sound of your voice. "i love ya, i love ya, i love ya-" she continued to pepper your face with soft kisses, hands tangling in your hair as eventually her lips moved to meet yours.
"did you learn your lesson?" you raised an eyebrow as the two of you lay tangled up together beneath the duvet, katies strong arms wrapped around you as her chin rested on your shoulder and your fingers intertwined with hers as they lay on your stomach.
"i learned that next time i win i'll be sure to tease you behind your back and not to your face. what a sore loser!"
"katie!"
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your tequila lips is my idea of luxury
pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader
genre. fluff & university/college rom :D
warnings/content. 4.1k+ wc | soccer team captain!reo (giggles) | mentions of alcohol, drinking, and drunken state | public kissing (don’t ask) | minimal proofread | me and my poor attempt of banter
in which: last night left you with three hazy memories — a dare, a kiss, and the name reo mikage
If college has managed to drill one thing into your head, it’s the gospel of abstaining from weekday drinking. After all, who in their right mind willingly marches to class with a pounding headache? Certainly not you.
But if there’s also one thing college didn't prepare you for, that is ignoring that one advice it drilled into you, and the golden rule of never, ever going against your own wisdom.
If it did, then maybe you wouldn’t find yourself seated at the table of your kitchen dorm, your elbows resting heavily on its surface and your hands cradling your throbbing head, with your fingers pressed against your temples in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pounding sensation that is making you feel like it’s your last day on earth.
And to add a splash of more chaos to the mix, you feel like your headache intensified by tenfold at the absurdity of what your roommate just told you.
“I did fucking what now?”
“You kissed Reo at the party last night! Reo freaking Mikage!”
Yup, it’s definitely your last day on earth.
“ —and we squealed so loud! We never thought you had it in you to pull shit like that!”
Well, you didn’t either.
“Hold on, talk slowly! I kissed him?!”
Furrowing your brows, you attempt to process the bombshell your roommate just dropped on you.
“Don’t tell me you forgot what happened last night!”
To say that your roommate did a poor job of filling you in on what atrocity happened last night is an understatement. The only thing you managed to register from the weirdly sequenced story were two things: kiss and Reo.
And from there, the memories of last night came rushing back to you.
Fucking hell.
You are damned, no doubt. Of all people, it had to be Reo Mikage. Are you even allowed to say that name so casually, even in your mind? That name drips gold and glory in every letter. He’s probably the richest guy on campus, the most famous (for sure), and on top of that, he’s the captain of the goddamn soccer team. Talk about a boring and plain college life he’s living.
And to kiss that said man in a party for a dare? You’re doomed. You’re done for. You did the worst thing imaginable.
You should’ve known better that nothing good comes out of college parties and dumb drinking games.
You made a lot of questionable decisions in your life, that you admit. But this one probably takes the top spot.
And it all started innocently enough – with a dare.
The kind of dare that only seems like a great idea after a few too many shots. You had been the reigning champion of beer pong for as long as you could remember, and your friends decided it was high time to knock you down a peg. The stakes were set: a dare for a dare, and you were handed the ultimatum. Win the game or face the consequences.
But as fate would have it, your well-practiced skills crumbled under the pressure, and you found yourself facing the ultimate punishment—eight shots of tequila, back-to-back, in quick succession.
Under typical circumstances, you could easily handle that quantity, but regular situations don't account for having a crucial presentation the following day. Eight shots? It's a nightmare, considering you've reached your limit.
And so, you found yourself stumbling through the crowd with only one goal in mind: redemption.
Or maybe it was the tequila that whispered that goal into your ear, urging you to prove yourself. It was hard to tell.
And in that hazy state, your eyes had locked onto a figure that seemed to glow amidst the dim lights of the party. Reo Mikage, a name that resonated through campus like a melody, stood there, his presence magnetic and his smile dangerously alluring.
Without much thought, you approached the poseur table he was located at.
“Are you single?” you asked him the second you got close enough for him to hear. Fortunately, he wasn't surrounded by his usual crowd.
Now, what happened to ‘hello’? To ‘are you having fun?’ That question is too straightforward for a conversation starter, isn't it?
“Yeah? Yes, I mean.” Reo replied, confusion evident in his tone.
“Okay good, listen.” Stepping closer, you caught him off guard, and he instinctively took a step back. His movement prompted a questioning look from you, tinged with a hint of concern because it was one step, yet he backed away for three. Little did you know, your proximity was affecting him more than the alcohol he'd consumed.
Undeterred and tequila-fueled, you continued. “I really don't want to drink those abominations in liquid form my friends dared me, so may you find it in your good heart to let me kiss the shit out of you so I’m saved.”
What the hell did he just hear? “Kiss the shit out of me…?”
“Yeah.” So, he heard you right. He’s not making it up. Good, he thinks.
“What do I get in return?”
“Lunch? My treat.”
Did you just offer a multimillionaire heir a lunch and promise it's on you? At this point, you're not drunk — you're certifiably crazy.
“Hmm, sounds good. Alright, please do show me how the shit out of me can be kissed by you.”
In the face of his agreement, you rolled your eyes at his mocking tone. But there was no time for second-guessing; this was your moment.
Grasping the front of his shirt, you tugged him closer. You saw how his eyes widened at what you did before it broke out to a boyish grin. A breath passed, and then — the two of you collided.
In the electrified space between heartbeats, your lips found each other hungrily. His breath mingled with yours, a shared exchange of anticipation as your mouths moved in sync, exploring each other with an urgency that defied logic.
The taste of tequila still lingered, a faint reminder of the daring choice that had led you here. But it was the heat, the fervor, that consumed you both. Your bodies pressed together, the proximity sparking flames of need that danced through your veins.
His fingers found purchase at your waist, the touch igniting a trail of sensation that sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and a moan rose out of your throat as he drew your bottom lip between his teeth, a delicious tug that blurred the lines between who was kissing whom.
You pulled back from the kiss first, and a protest almost climbed Reo’s throat. But he knew better than to step in unwarranted, instead, he settled with savoring the image of your flushed state. Even in these neon blaring lights, Reo could discern your state with your heavy panting. Was it because of the alcohol? Or him? He hopes it’s the latter.
“That was… fuck. Thank your friends for the dare for me, yeah?”
And that’s how it all ended — with a kiss far from innocent.
Now here you are, nursing a splitting headache as you trudged across campus, textbooks clutched to your chest, trying to shake off the remnants of last night's debauchery. The taste of regret was heavy on your tongue—not just from the hangover, but from the events that led up to it.
In your slightly inebriated mind, the plan made sense. Kiss the hottest guy at the party, and you'd show your friends that you were up to the challenge. It was akin to hitting two birds with one stone: escaping the impending liquor onslaught and salvaging your pride.
At the time, it sounded good – sounded like a winning strategy. But now? You want to bang your head against the wall for even thinking it made sense. And you’d do it if it weren’t for your phone buzzing in your pocket interrupting your self-loathing.
Last night for Reo was enchanting, to say the least.
It was like a spark in the darkness, an unexpected surge of joy that he found himself smirking at the memory, reliving the sensation of your lips in his.
Last night might have been the spark, but it wasn't where it all began for Reo.
Before you approached him at the party, he remembered you from freshman year. It was hard not to—especially when he recalled the exact moment. He perfectly remembers how you looked him dead in the eye and quipped,“Why waste your time on that sport if your aim is as off as a blindfolded archer? The goal's over there, genius. Not me.” after his supposed goal went astray and hit you in the back.
Well, he took that personally— word for word. And within a year, he had risen to become the best player on the team.
Now add that memory to the daring kiss you shared last night? There was no way Reo would be forgetting you anytime soon. He was now on a mission to make sure that you remembered him as vividly as he remembered you.
Good thing you owe him lunch, and an even better thing that he spotted you just now on a bench near the field he was on. He chuckled to himself at the coincidence, he wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.
Reo, with his pragmatic and business-oriented mindset, was perhaps one of the last people on earth to put faith in notions like fate. But maybe he can make an exception to that philosophy if it’s you.
Because right now, this whole thing felt like a mischievous wink from the cosmos, giving Reo a shot at something he had only dared to imagine. Wasting no more chances, he pulled out his phone.
[Today, 8:32 AM]
Is this Y/N?
This is Reo, by the way.
From his vantage point, he saw you reach for your phone immediately after he hit send. The widening of your eyes and the hint of surprise as you read his message didn't go unnoticed.
Cute. Peering down to his phone, he snorted with laughter at your response.
y/n: No. You’ve got the wrong number. [8:33 AM]
Your friend confirmed it’s yours, though :P [8:33 AM]
Also, I can see you typing. [8:34 AM]
Your eyes immediately scanned the whole field in search of the possible source of your college life’s impending doom. After a few seconds of looking with furrowed brows and a crinkled nose, there – you saw him, with his head slightly cocked to the side and his arms crossed over his chest, grinning at your display of reaction to his messages.
Your searching eyes transformed into bewilderment the instant he stood up, making his way toward you. Realizing that the two of you couldn’t be seen together under any circumstances to avoid igniting unnecessary gossip, your fingers danced over the screen of your phone, rapidly firing off messages that inundated his notifications.
y/n:
what do you need
are you trying to approach me
stop right there
stop walking!!!! everyone's looking
i swear to god [8:37 AM]
Your frantic typing, however, seemed to make no impact. As if on a mission, Reo continued walking closer to you with the most annoyingly confident grin on his lips. His gaze was locked onto you, unwavering and undeterred.
Even from the distance that separates you two, you could make out what he was wearing. And you were damn sure, it was the sluttiest piece of clothing a man could wear.
The divine must really have its favorites, it seems. Because while you looked like hell had taken up residence on your head from last night’s festivities, he looked too sinful for a sunny morning in his compression shirt.
No one should look that damn good at 8 AM—it's practically criminal and a slap in the face to regular college students like you.
As Reo closed the distance between you, you could practically feel the weight of all those curious eyes fixated on the scene. Were they looking at him? You? Or both? The thought alone made you want to sink into the ground and disappear.
“Hi.”
Hi? You’re hyperventilating from the attention the two of you are getting and he quips a hi?
“What do you need?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice steady amid the prying gazes of onlookers.
Reo's grin remained stubbornly intact, seemingly oblivious to the audience around you. “I’m here to collect a favor you owe me!” he declared with an enthusiasm that felt almost out of place in this surreal moment.
He can’t be seriously asking you to buy him lunch, right? What does he even eat? A5 Wagyu steak? There’s no way your student budget can afford that.
“I don’t remember owing you anything.”
“Really? I’ll remind you then, you offered to buy me lunch last night before you grabbed my collar and kissed m–”
“Finish that sentence, and lunch is not the only thing you’ll get from me.”
Your threat hung heavy in the air, your words loaded with a blend of annoyance and embarrassment that had settled on your cheeks.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” and yet, ever undeterred from your hostility, Reo's voice took on a smug, teasing tone that matched the twinkle in his eye.
This guy. “You're a bit annoying, don’t you think?”
“No, I don't think I am,” he countered, “And I also don't think that's how you should speak to someone who, and I quote, found it in their good heart to kiss you and save you from eight shots of tequila, though.”
Reo was on a mission, that much was clear. And quoting your exact words from last night seemed to be one of his tactics to ensure you remembered him and that kiss you shared.
And lucky him, it looks like it’s working like a charm in which the telltale warmth in your cheeks revealed. Unfortunately for you, your simmering frustration combined with a throbbing headache could either launch you into a one-way ticket to expulsion or earn you a potential criminal record.
May the universe and all the saints grant you patience, because the overwhelming urge to wipe that damn grin off his face is slowly overtaking your senses.
You glanced at your watch, calculating whether you had enough time to wrap up your presentation before considering lunch. “Fine. Text me the location,” you conceded, your tone reluctantly agreeable. “I have a presentation to do first. I'll meet you there before noon.”
It might turn out to be a questionable financial decision to let him choose the lunch spot, but you were sticking to your word. You still owed him, after all.
“Sure. Good luck on your presentation. I’m sure you’ll devour the shit out of it.”
His playful tone, quoting your own words again back at you, made your eyes roll in a mix of annoyance and flustered embarrassment.
Reo, on the other hand, seems like he’s having the time of his life with your reactions.
Someone can’t wait for lunch time, it seems. And clearly, that’s not you but a certain purple-haired.
If anyone were to observe Reo in this moment, they might easily mistake his fidgeting for the anxious prelude to a first Tinder meet up. Of course, that would be utterly absurd, considering he was simply awaiting someone's arrival, who happened to owe him a wholesome meal.
The little bell above the restaurant's entrance jingled, drawing Reo's attention like a magnet.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw you walk in, much to his surprise. Seemingly fresh and put-together now, you appeared quite different from the disarrayed figure he had spotted on the field earlier.
Your smile, which now adorned your face as you exchanged pleasantries with the hostess, seemed to hint that your presentation had gone well, and perhaps the remnants of last night’s headache were subsiding.
Casually dressed yet carrying an air of understated confidence, you navigated the room with ease. His eyes followed you as you moved, taking in the subtle sway of your hair, the way your lips curved into polite smiles for familiar faces. He observed this scene unfolding before him, almost as if he were watching a scene from one of those romcom movies.
When your gaze finally settled on him, Reo could feel the heat making its way to his neck that he hoped his collar was hiding well.
The moment you settled into your seat, you wasted no time in addressing the metaphorical elephant in the room. “I’m sorry I put you in that position last night,” you blurted out.
Conversation starters were not your strong suit, Reo noted with an inward chuckle. Last night's shameless question was understandable, given the influence of alcohol, but in the clear light of day, your choice of conversation openers left much to be desired.
“It’s fine,” he replied with a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a faint smile of reassurance. He raised his left hand to catch the waiter's attention, subtly signaling for the menu. “Glad it was me, actually,” he mumbled more to himself than to you, his own unfiltered thought taking him by surprise.
“What?”
“What?”
Before you could even attempt to untangle the verbal knot, the waiter arrived with the menus, saving Reo from any further explanations. He observed as the waiter acknowledged you, a smile exchanged between you two. It seemed you were a regular here, and he found himself intrigued by yet another layer of your personality.
“You know him?” Reo inquired, nodding toward the departing waiter.
“Oh, I'm a regular here. It's my favorite place,” you explained with a hint of fondness.
“What are the chances? It's mine too.”
Your eyes narrowed in playful disbelief, seemingly not buying the idea of someone like Reo enjoying a meal at a diner like this. “You?”
You admit you were surprised when he texted you of this place being his choice of dining. You were totally gearing up for him to suggest some fancy French or Italian joint where you'd need to take out a loan just to cover the bill. After all, people like him should be dining on caviar and foie gras. But then he texted you this choice, and maybe he's more down-to-earth than you thought. Or maybe he just knows where the good food is. It's hard to believe either, though.
Challenged, Reo insisted, “Yes. Me.”
“Alright, what are you having then? I’m ordering their famous pesto pasta—surely you know what that is, right?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
“Of course, I do.” Reo was basically lying through his teeth, at this point. But he couldn’t back down from his claim. And what? Admit that it's his first time here and the only reason he chose this was because he often sees you eating here? Not a chance.
“Why don’t you order for us then?”
With no turning back, he quipped, “Sure thing,” before signaling for a server. He sensed your amused gaze on him, and a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.
“We’ll have two orders of your pesto pasta, please.”
“Uhm sir, we don’t serve pasta here.”
You let out a laugh, and Reo swears he could almost hear the birds chirping in the background.
Maybe a bit of embarrassment was a fair trade for that sound, he mused.
Lunch, for you, was not so bad and not quite the disaster you initially imagined.
Not until, out of nowhere, Reo brought up your embarrassing escapade from last night, “Was it because of that incident in freshman year that you approached me last night?”
“Freshman year?” you echoed, momentarily thrown off track. “Did we ever have a class together? Because I genuinely can't picture myself willingly signing up for economics or any finance-related course.”
“No, we didn't share any classes. And what's wrong with those courses? They're actually quite enjoyable.”
Yeah, if your idea of fun is spending hours deciphering graphs and balancing budgets. Enjoyable if you think that analyzing the stock market is the pinnacle of excitement.
“I don’t remember you from freshman year, though.” you admitted.
Reo's disbelief was palpable as he leaned back in his chair, a smug grin settling in. “You told me I suck at soccer a couple of years ago. Ring any bells? It was on the field.”
“I did fucking what now again?” You briefly questioned your past choices – or the lack of recollection thereof. Were you perpetually in a tipsy daze during your time at university? How could you miss every brash choice you made? Your brazen mouth could indeed get you into unforeseen trouble one day, that much is very clear.
“And here I was, thinking you kissed me on that dare as payback for me accidentally hitting you with a soccer ball.” Reo chuckled at your surprise, leaning back further.
“No,” you retorted, shaking your head slightly. “I did it because the dare was to kiss someone we found hot at the party.”
Oh. “So you think I’m hot?”
“My drunk self sure did.”
“Well, and what does your sober self think now?”
Clearly, this banter was a game both of you were more than willing to play. With a pointed gaze, you focused on Reo, a slow grin tugging at your lips. The effect on Reo was almost instantaneous—his throat cleared awkwardly, and his confident grin faltering.
“My sober self thinks my drunk self is absolutely right.”
You infused the word ‘absolutely’ with a nonchalant drawl, noting the flush creeping up Reo’s cheeks. His composure seemed to waver, and he hastily reached for his drink, downing it within seconds.
Satisfied that you managed to wipe his confident grin, you pressed on, “Are you blushing?”
“No,” Reo responded a bit too quickly, his voice a tad higher than usual. “It’s a bit hot in here.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” You chuckled at his flimsy excuse, your eyes catching the telltale shade of red tinting his ears and neck. Reo is easy to fluster as it is for him to do so, you noted. “Let’s get out of here, let me just pay.”
Just as you were about to signal a waiter, Reo halted you with his words, “It’s done.”
“Done?”
“I gave them my card before you arrived.”
What the fuck. “But the favor…”
Reo's smirk reappeared, a gleam of triumph in those amethyst orbs. “Looks like you still owe me a date.”
“A lunch,” you corrected him, but Reo shrugged nonchalantly, a playful ‘same thing’ expression on his face.
“Sure, whatever you say,” he mimicked your tone, “Let me walk you to your next class.” He offered, rising from his seat as you did.
“Thank you, but absolutely no.”
“Why not?”
Reo must be really oblivious to his fame, it seems. “Just because. Also, don’t you have practice?”
“I do, but ten more minutes with you sounds better.”
You rolled your eyes at his attempt to charm you. “Are you slacking off, captain? Looks like my freshman self was right about your soccer skills after all.”
“I’m not slacking off, I just know my priorities.” and there it was again, that grin and that stare. Whether it was the tequila or just him, Reo really had a way of pulling you into his orbit.
Bashful, and at a loss for better retorts, you looked away. “Next time.”
“So there’s a next time, then?” he innocently asks, clearly fishing for another affirmation.
“Next time, I’m paying.”
“Got that.” Reo mindlessly agreed. He’s just happy there’s a next time, honestly. “Let me walk you out, at least.”
Both of you left the restaurant, walking side by side in companionable silence. After a few moments, you decided to break the quietude that had settled between you.
“I guess we're parting ways here,” you remarked, your voice carrying a hint of finality.
Reo’s disappointment was evident, though he tried to mask it. “Sure. Thank you for the meal.”
A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “What are you thanking me for? You paid for it.”
“Let me rephrase it then, thank you for introducing me to this place. I’ve clearly been missing out,” he beams.
“You're welcome, Mr. Fine Dining.”
As you walked a few steps ahead of Reo, you turned your head to look back at him, seemingly remembering something to tell him. “Oh, by the way,” you start, a teasing smile making its way to your lips, “I’m glad it was you too.”
With that, you took one last glance at his starstruck expression before parting ways, leaving him with a lingering smile.
Maybe something good does come out of stupid college parties and dumb drinking games – in the form of someone with enchanting smiles and magnetic purple eyes, that is.
And now, for sure, with or without the tequila haze, there’s not a single chance you’re forgetting Reo Mikage anytime soon.
note. he makes me ill ( i love him very much and this is purely self-indulgent because i need him like air).
#☁️ my ode to you#mikage reo#reo mikage#mikage reo x reader#reo mikage x reader#mikage reo fluff#mikage reo x y/n#blue lock imagines#blue lock x reader#bllk imagines#bllk x reader#blue lock fluff
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And then they were… lovers Wait really?
And they were….
Part 1: And they were roommates
Part 2: And they were strangers
Summary: Wanda wakes from a dream and needs to make a decision, she hopes she makes the right one
Words: 3K +
“Y/n?” Wanda walked through her house entering the kitchen and seeing you cooking her favourite meal
“Is that paprikash? She asked and you jumped spinning around “hey baby you snuck up on me, but yeah it’s your favourite, I’ll be honest it’s my 4th attempt but I think it’s okay”
Wanda wrapped her arms around your body placing a kiss on the back of your neck “I like this”
“Me sucking at trying to cook?” You chuckled and Wanda laughed with you “just me and you, here, in our little home and no ex boyfriends no weird demons or devils, just the two of us”
Turning around in her hold you held her face in your hands kissing her softly “I love you”
“I love you too”
Wanda shot up in the strange bed looking around and seeing you sat in a chair asleep, or pretending to sleep since demons don’t sleep
“Y/n?”
You opened your eyes standing up and walking to her “do you feel okay now?”
She nodded and stood up from the bed hugging you tight surprising you “I’m breaking up with Vision”
You sighed but Wanda continued “I’m breaking up with him as soon as I get back I don’t need him anymore I only want you, I want to sleep in your bed and not panic about Vision walking in and catching us, I want to go on real dates and want to go to build a bear because I know you really wanted to go that day but thought it was childish and left it, I just want to do so much with you, please please don’t leave me alone”
Through her own tears Wanda couldn’t see the tears running down your face as well, but she did feel you tighten your grip
“I do really want that unicorn” you whispered and Wanda smiled against you “call him”
Wanda pulled away from you and you used your thumbs to wipe her stray tears away “I need to do it in person, will you come with me?”
“Damn right, I want to see his face when it happens”
You went to kiss Wanda but she stopped you confusing you “oh?”
“I need to break up with him now then I’ll kiss you all day”
“Okay, let’s go then”
****************************************************
Arriving at the house you held onto Wanda’s hand entering the house standing over the few drunk and knocked out bodies
“Wanda! I’m so glad you’re okay” Vision appeared dragging Wanda into him into a hug which she quickly pulled away from “vision we need to talk”
“Okay…should we go to your room?”
Wanda shook her head “no it’s okay we can do this here it’ll be quick” she stepped back into you and you automatically wrapped your arms around her glaring at the man
“What’s going on?” Vision had his suspicions but didn’t want to believe them
“I’m sorry Vision I’m breaking up with you, I can’t keep-
“What? Why?! What have I done?” He scrambled and you just laughed “she wants me douchebag, told you my dick was bigger than yours”
Vision saw red marching towards you and you quickly pushed Wanda out of the way before he punched you on one you off balance and to the floor
“Fucking bitch, how dare you steal my girlfriend!”
You jumped up wiping your blood away and spat in his face “you don’t deserve her, she’s better off with me” you remained calm not wanting to blow up while Wanda was here
Wanda come back to you checking your nose “oh honey that looks broken”
You shrugged “it’ll be fine in a few minutes, maybe best to check on the increasing volcano over there”
Wanda looked back at Vision and took in a deep breath “Vision, please leave our house, I’m sorry about it being so sudden but I can’t have you in here anymore”
As her voice wobbled on the last few words the man still couldn’t understand what was going on so he did leave, not without a warning “you both enjoy being toxic bitches together”
He slammed the door waking up a few people who left silently after, you took Wanda into her room and lay her on the bed “you’re mine”
“I’m all yours baby” you straddled Wanda on the bed kissing her deeply and roaming your hands around her body “wait” Wanda breathed out as you started kissing down her chest
You looked up quickly “you okay? Did I do something?”
Wanda soothed your fears with a kiss to your cheek “no it’s okay but…but I think build a bear is open now” your head fell into her neck and you started laughing “you’re so ridiculous, but sure, let’s have a shower and go and get buddy”
Remixing yourself from Wanda you pulled her up giving her a final kiss “buddy? Is that the name of your unicorn you’re gonna get?”
“….maybe”
“That’s adorable, demons are adorable” Wanda giggled kissing you softly and tapping you on the nose “only me, I’m the only adorable demon in the world, rest of them are bastards”
**************************************************
“I’m not sure about this anymore Wands, it’s so busy”
Wanda shrugged tugging you along into the store “so? It’s fine see there’s a few adults in there, come on my love”
“My love?” You paused and Wanda worried she’d upset you
“Is my love okay?”
You wanted to shout yes! But you tried holding in your excitement “sure sure it’s cool, I er yeah it’s great….can I call you my love?”
Wanda lent up kissing you on the cheek “of course my love”
Your ent to kiss her again but Wanda pulled you into store and to the unicorn you really wanted “what about this one?” Wanda picked up a unicorn and handed it to you “yeah he’s cute, I like his rainbow mane and tail”
“Come on then let’s get him!” She excitedly dragged you to the stuffing section but you stopped her “hold on, we could get him a sound or voice”
Your eyes racked over the choices and landed on a cute heart with a heartbeat
“I like this heart” Wanda picked up the heart and smiled “it says on the back it’s got a heartbeat when you press the leg”
You took the heart back and smiled “I really want this, I don’t have a heartbeat…I like listening to yours because it makes me feel human, and you’ll finally have a heartbeat to keep you calm when you get overwhelmed”
When you looked back to Wanda and saw the tears welling upon her eyes you panicked “are you okay???” She kissed you as her response calming you down “I’m perfectly fine, that’s just the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said, let’s get you your unicorn”
Besides the teenage employee giving you strange looks as he helped you with the unicorn, you and Wanda had a great time in the store “can we go home now and show you how much I love you by marking every inch of your body”
Wanda gasped holding Buddy the unicorn’s ears “Our son is too young to be hearing such inappropriate things!”
You rolled your eyes but took your new ‘son’ from Wanda and placed him on your shoulders “there you go Buddy, your mommy and daddy want you to see the world from a tall height, you won’t get that from Wanda”
You laughed to yourself not seeing Wanda blush slightly at the moniker ‘mommy’ for her
“So, we’re parents now? Even for gays I think we’re moving very quick”
You shrugged “we already live together so it’s fine, we’re one big happy family”
Wanda stopped and you immediately turned to her looking her over “Wanda? You have to keep stopping or you’re going to give me a horrible heartless heart attack”
“A happy family? Can we have that?”
You calmed your imagined breathing and kissed her softly “of course my love, I mean sure I can’t give you kids but little buddy here will be enough for now right?”
Wanda wondered how many times you were gonna make her cry today, she was counting 3 now?
“I’m so mad I wasted all my time with Vision, you’re the most amazing person ever, even if you are a demon”
Chucking, you gave her a kiss on the forehead “a murderous demon I’ll have you know, and I’ll kill anyone that upsets you, you know that?”
“Is it strange I find that really arousing?” She laughed at your expression “you’re full of surprises, how long have we been living together? A year? I’m learning so much”
“We have so much more time now to get to know each other properly”
************************************************
Wanda’s alarm blared through the room and you reached over her sleeping form to switch it off and nuzzled back into her body kissing the back of her neck to wake her up “wake up princess, you’ve got classes”
While her eyes didn’t open her body Wanda’s body twisted around so she was now facing you and his her face in your neck “no” it was a small but firm whisper and it made you laugh
“We can cuddle later, you’ve got a 2 hour lunch, I’ll bring you home and we can eat then sleep”
Wanda’s eyes opened and stared at you “you know my schedule?”
You nodded “of course, I’ve always known it, that’s why I always picked you up after classes at the correct time”
Wanda thought about it, you were always right there outside the university or in the cafeteria eating for her, that was sweet “okay I’d like that, can we have those sandwiches you made one time that looked like the ones off of Scooby doo?”
“Damn right we can, those are my specialty”
***********************************************
“Natasha!” Wanda finally found her friend just before lunch and hugged her tight “I’ve not seen you all morning where have you been?”
“Hey Wands yeah sorry I just-
“Well well well, if it isn’t the dyke, how’s the whore’s nose? Vision told us he hit her pretty hard” Bucky approached the two of them with Steve
“Shove off assholes” Wanda tried pulling Nat away with her but Bucky grabbed a hold of her arm “hold on red we wanna know something”
“What” she replied still trying to get out of his grasp “why did you dump Vision for her? He’s a man and she’s in need of anger management, has she hit you yet? I bet she’s got some hook on her”
The two started laughing until a hand pulled Bucky around “why don’t you tell me how my right hook is”
Punching him hard enough Bucky was knocked to the floor and Steve scrambled to pick him up running away from you “fucking bitch!” You heard one of them shout not caring who as you looked over where he’d gripped Wanda making sure she was okay
“Did he hurt you?”
Wanda shook her head “no, no I’m okay thanks babe”
“You okay Wanda?” Nat hugged her best friend sparing you a small smile “hey Y/n”
“Hey sweet girl, I see you recovered from the party”
Nat nodded “yeah I did”
You sensed some tension and took Nat’s hand forcing her to look at you “honey, I know you think it’s awkward but it’s not, you’re a great kisser and you’ll make some girl very happy one day, okay? We good?”
Nat nodded “yeah sorry I didn’t want to be weird about it”
You agreed and kissed her on the cheek “you’re still my favourite princess, you know that right?”
Wanda jabbed you in the back “hey, what am I?”
You straightened and turned around to Wanda “you, you are my perfect little girl, the love of my life and the only one who can deal with me”
You went to kiss her but a voice stopped you both
“Excuse me but we don’t tolerate public displays of affection in this university”
You looked at the man and smiled “sorry Dr Pym but I thought you’d be okay with kissing since you certainly enjoy trying to kiss our dancers, poor ladies, the amount of time security had to try and pry you away-
“Thank you miss L/n just try to restrain yourself in public”
The man quickly scurried off and you all burst out laughing “does he really do that?”
“Yeah, he’s a creep at the club, but I like to keep him in line, a few punches here or there and he behaves”
“That’s really hot baby” Wanda kissed you hard meeting her hand wander down to your ass making you pull away suddenly “some really weird things turn you on and I can’t wait to discover them all”
Nat rolled her eyes “anyway before you two have sex against the wall I’m going to lunch, are you guys coming?”
“Actually I’m taking Wanda home and we’ll have lunch there, you’ve got the rest of the day off right?”
Wanda nodded “yeah, the professor is sick so we don’t have to come back”
“Perfect! Come on darling let’s go, see you later Nat”
You both waved Nat off and headed back to your car “so what’s for lunch?” Wanda asked and you shrugged “we could get burgers, I’ll be honest I didn’t make anything”
She laughed “forget the food let’s just go home and sleep, it’s been a long few days and I think it’s catching up to me”
You surprised her picking her up bridal style “Y/n!”
You chuckled holding her close so she doesn’t fall “I don’t want you collapsing from exhaustion princess”
“You’re amazing” she breathed out kissing you softly
“Thank you, now come on, I need to cuddle my girl”
*********************************************
When you both arrived home and settled in Wanda’s bedroom you gave her your hoodie to be comfortable in which she greedily took and put on enjoying the warmth, she watched you get ready for bed refusing to take her eyes off of you even as you got into bed and curled up with her and buddy
“Stop watching me Wanda, go to sleep, I promise I’ll be here when you wake up”
“Promise?” She giggled and you kissed her on the nose “I promise and so does our son”
*************************************************
When Wanda awoke you weren’t there, nor was the unicorn, in fact she wasn’t in her bedroom, wait was she still-
“Oh good you’re awake Wanda, douchebag has been calling you all morning so you need to tell him I haven’t killed you”
Wanda couldn’t believe it, had it all been a lie? It felt so real, a full 3 days and they weren’t real?
You clicking your fingers got Wanda’s attention “you good Wanda?”
“It was all a dream…”
You eyed her curiously “what was a dream? Not like I’ve had any of them in a while, a whole lot of nightmares though”
Wanda looked at you and considered telling you but decided against it “it was nothing, I’m feeling a lot better so just take me home please”
You agreed “alright, I’ll just tidy the place up a bit, and let you get ready” you left leaving Wanda in quiet room thinking about everything, the best 3 days of her life and they all turned out to be fake, just a really good and vivid dream?
She felt some shifting on the bed and sat up suddenly seeing Loki “did you enjoy my work? It was quite a lot to put into a few hours but I think I made it work”
Her eyes widened “it was you? You made that dream? Why?”
The man shrugged “to get you to see what you really want, I don’t mean to meddle in the affairs of demon/human relations but seeing a powerful demon be brought down by a little redhead human was getting to me, you needed to realise the error of your ways, I hope I did that”
He disappeared as quickly as he left and Wanda was left feeling empty yet again “he’s right” she whispered, “I need to fix this”
#marvel#wanda maximoff#mcu#wanda maximov#wanda maximoff x reader#marvel incorrect quotes#natasha romanov#marvel imagine#marvel au#and they were…#demon!y/n x wanda maximoff
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Your Warmth is Fading - Soap x You x Ghost
Content Warnings - pregnancy complications, hospital stuff
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
It was late at night, long past visiting hours but your nightmare still haunted you. The taste of bile still lingered on your tongue and sweat still stuck to your skin. At least your breathing returned to normal. The quiet of the military hospital room was off putting but the machine showed Soap was still alive. The pattern of his heart beat, the IV bags hung up and the soft breathing of his soothed you.
You slinked over to the chair next to his bed and sat down. Soap looked better, no longer on death's doorstep even if all the tubes and wires connected to him unsettled you. His face was relaxed despite the discoloration of his right cheek. You thought back to what the doctor who had first reviewed the two of you had said. The comment was still bitter in your mouth. The doctor had called you both lucky. What a load of shite. Luck would have stopped it all from happening in the first place.
You kept an eye on Soap a little longer until sleep started to pull at you again. You stood up and before you left, your lips grazed his forehead. At least he was still alive.
"You're joking." you say, looking at the doctor with your brows pinched so tight you could feel your skin pulling tight.
"You should be in bed rest for the last month of your pregnancy." the doctor reiterated. "For your safety and the baby's." Simon looks between you and the doctor. He wants to side with the doctor and also strangle him. How could he have not caught this sooner? "Your baby being positioned like this will only cause more harm to your body the longer you move around.”
You shake your head, anger making your face turn hot. Those fucking Braxton Hicks hadn't been all Braxton Hicks but a major sign of your baby, Johnny's baby, being sideways. If it wasn't so fucking terrible you might be laughing. "How did you not catch this sooner?" you snarl.
"This is why we insist on check ups every week. So we can catch things like this.”
"But what about all the other check ups?" you huff and sit up, grasping onto Simon's arm for a little extra support. "What if you had missed it completely?”
"Ma'am please, getting aggressive will not do any of us any good.”
"A month I have to spend doing nothing." you grumble and cross your arms over your chest. You wonder, a thing you've been doing often, how Johnny would react to all of this. Wonder if he would be spitting mad and yelling at the doctor with a thick Scottish accent. You can almost hear it. Pulling from memories of him training recruits or yelling at an insubordinate recruit.
"It's for the best." Simon says, physically stopping himself from adding a 'love' to the end. He was sure you would throw your shoes at him if he let it slip. You had always been a firecracker and pregnancy seemed to amplify how quickly your anger flared up. It would be cute, he thinks, if he didn't know that you could gut him like a fish.
You glare at Simon the entire trip back to the flat, refuse his help getting out of his truck and slam the truck door shut hard. The last few weeks you've struggled up the stairs to your flat and now you're marching up them like you weren't advised to keep exercise low. “Would ya fuckin’ wait?” Simon huffs. Your glare could melt steel and you slam the flat door behind you. Simon groans and opens it to find you pacing back and forth.
“Just sit down.” Simon says and grabs you by the shoulders. You push him away a little, stumbling yourself from the force needed to do such an act.
“Don't tell me what to do.” you snap and run your fingers through your hair. You were sure you would lose your fucking mind if you had to rest all day for a month.
“You should update Mrs and Mr MacTavish on the situation.” Simon suggests, “Maybe Mrs MacTavish has gone through this before.” You glare at him but pull out your phone anyway and begin to type.
You're there when he wakes up, this time not high on pain meds. “Lass?” he groggily muttered and tried to rub at his eyes. Soap hissed when he felt the IV needle in his arm at the movement. “What ‘re ye doin’ here?”
“Waiting for you to wake up.” you stated, voice cool and Soap sunk further into blankets and hospital bed. He knew that look in your eyes, you were on the verge of an explosion. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” you snapped and flicked his forehead for good measure. “Running into that building like a man with a death wish.” you tossed your hands up in the air.
“Well I'm not dead.”
“I had to perform CPR on your MacTavish!” you snarled, “Blood loss might've fogged that part over but I remember!”
“Lass-”
“Do not ‘Lass’ me.” you stood from your chair, the spot you had nearly grown roots into if not for the different appointments you had due to the wounds on your hands. “You nearly died and I had to watch it. Do you seriously think I wouldn't be upset?”
“Lass I'm fine.” Soap tried to say and sit up. He groaned and clutched his side when the pain shocked through his system. “Bleeding Christ.”
You sat back down in your chair and wiped at your tears so he wouldn't see them. “You pull that shit on me again MacTavish and I'll let the crows eat you.”
“I'm not on bed rest yet Simon.” you huff and nudge Simon away and out of the kitchen. “I can make my own food.”
“Never said ya couldn't.” Simon mutters as he takes a step back.
“Go finish setting up the baby changing station.” you say, swallowing the snarl. You keep reminding yourself that this isn't Simon's fault. Mrs. MacTavish has texted back, telling you that she once had a friend with the same complication but not to worry. The month would pass quickly. You had to also turn off your phone to stop from messaging something hurtful. The military had always kept you moving. Running courses, training recruits or deployed into the field. Pregnancy had already shown you down and put you on light duty until you took leave.
You tap your foot as you stir the soup and your eyes drift to the front of your hands. The scars had faded well thanks to treatments but sometimes you wish they hadn't. Just as a reminder, something to run your hands over that wasn't your bulging stomach. You reach and turn on your phone, holding your breath as well as you could bring 7 months pregnant as the brands sign flashes.
You stare at your lock screen, a group picture of the 141. Back when Soap was alive. A ding as a notification pops up, a message from Mrs MacTavish from several hours ago.
“Would you like a baby shower before you have to go on bed rest?”
A baby shower? You had a small one at four months. Just Price and Gaz, Simon wasn't invited. The baby clothes you had were from those two. You really didn't want another. So much stress and surely more people. You had seen the family pictures on the wall in their house.
I owe it to them, you think as you type up the one word response, at least I owe them this much.
“Yes.”
#ghost mw2#ghost x you#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#soap#call of duty#cod#john soap mctavish x you#mw3 spoilers#cod mw2#simon ghost x reader#ghost x soap x reader
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Regulus’ heart breaks as he stands there, just behind the willow tree, watching James and Sirius roll around on the grass, play fighting in their own little world.
Of course he left him. Of course James would pick Sirius over Regulus, wouldn’t everyone? Regulus has never been picked first. Not once.
Not by his parents, who ignored him throughout his entire childhood to focus on framing Sirius as the perfect son and heir.
Not by Sirius, who ran away, picking James to be his brother and not bothering to ask Regulus to tag along.
Not in team games, where students would pick through the class one by one, and Regulus would be one of the last few standing.
Not by his friends, who all would chose their partners, or the other people in the group first. He joined last, it’s only fair.
Not even by the lizard who inhabits his dorm room, who picks the three other boys to crawl over to first, every time.
And certainly not by James.
He thought, for once, the cycle might be broken. He thought, for once, someone would pick him first. He’d get chosen over someone else, just once.
He should have known better.
He should have known that the moment Sirius found out about he and James sneaking around in dark corridors and whispering sweet words to each other, James would have to pick.
He was foolish to think James would pick him over Sirius. He was foolish to think that James would pick him over anyone.
And as Lily, with her fiery red hair pulled back into braids, comes marching over to the boys, snatching James up by his collar and earning herself a cheek kiss, Regulus realises he should have seen that coming too.
Not even two weeks has passed since Regulus placed second to his brother, as he does in fucking everything, and James has already moved on.
Regulus would never be anyone’s first choice, he should have known better.
He knows better now.
It’s not until three months later that Regulus finally shatters from it. The crushing weight of never being enough, never being someone’s first choice.
It’s Slytherin against Ravenclaw for the quidditch cup, and there in the crowd, he spots his brother and James.
They’re decked out in silver and blue, and they don’t look at Regulus, not even once.
Barty finds him in the showers, once the entire teams cleared out. He’s dressed in a confusing mix of blue and green, for his own house and his friends.
Hes crying. Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever cried this hard before. The water is pouring down over his head, and he’s still fully dressed in his uniform.
Slytherin lost. He lost them the match, because he was more focused on trying to catch James or Sirius looking his way just once than getting the snitch. They didn’t, and he lost.
Barty clearly doesn’t know how to handle this. The lowest he’s ever seen Regulus would have been prior to an exam he stressed himself out about. Besides, Barty has always been a little awkward when handling emotions.
Regulus tries to tell him to leave him be, he really does. But his words get all chocked up in his throat and he can’t get out much more than a wail or a sob. It fucking hurts.
“What’s the matter, Black?” Barty asks, switching the water off before crouching down in front of him, “What’s got your knickers in a twist, hey?”
“I-I’ll never be… good enough.” Regulus confesses. He’s never said it out loud before. He’s not a vulnerable person, he doesn’t do this. He knows better than to let out his sob story to someone, they can hold it over him one day. But he can’t help himself, he finds. He needs to get it off his chest before it rips him open, “I’ll never… b-be enough.”
Barty’s silent for a while, clearly unsure of what to say. It only makes Regulus sob more. He pulls his knees up to his chest and hides his head in his hand, and he fucking cries. He’s sure if anyone’s still out side, they’d hear it, but Barty locked the door when he came in. At least that’s something.
“I can never be enough.” Regulus sobs again, and this time Barty kicks into action.
He’s still awkward about it, Regulus can tell, he probably has better things to do than listen to Regulus cry as well, which only makes this worse. He pushes Regulus’ sopping hair out of his face and pats his face dry with the end of his Slytherin scarf before hauling them both to their feet.
“Who told ya that?” Barty asks, pulling his wand out to try his hand at a drying spell. It mostly works, so Regulus can’t complain.
“I don’t have to be told something to know it, Barty.” Regulus sniffles, wiping his eyes. They sting, and he knows he looks terrible, but there’s no use in worrying about that now.
“Well… I think, if you haven’t been told, it can’t be true.” Barty shrugs, tucking his wand back in his pocket.
“Fine.” Regulus nods, “My entire fucking family has told me then, on several occasions.”
“Oh.” Barty stills, and he has a look on his face of utter confusion.
Regulus shakes his head and goes to walk for the door, but he winces when he puts pressure on his ankle. He fell on it weirdly, midway through the match when he was knocked off his broom. It didn’t bother him before, but it does now.
“You hurt?” Barty asks, and Regulus nods.
Silently, Barty reaches out and wraps his arm around Regulus’ waist. He flinches at first, startled by the slightly intimate touch, but then Barty pulls Regulus to shift his weight, and he relaxes into it a little. Together, they walk back across the field, Barty carrying Regulus’ broom, and half of Regulus’ weight, and make their way back to the castle.
It’s oddly silent.
It’s always quiet, between them. Regulus isn’t much of a talker, and when Barty runs out of stupid things to say he goes quiet and people watches. He usually watches Regulus, since they’re always together, something that took a while to get used to. Barty really likes to watch Regulus read, it makes him a little self conscious of any strange expressions he might be making.
But it’s a strange sort of quiet now. It’s silent. Regulus isn’t talking, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he feels ashamed for breaking down like that. He doesn’t just break down. Men don’t fucking break down. Especially not in front of people like that. He feels embarrassed that Barty found him.
Well, he’s grateful it was Barty over anyone else, seeing as though they’re supposed to be close friends, Merlin forbid Sirius found him. But it’s still uncomfortable.
The only friend any of them have that likes to talk about feelings is Pandora. Regulus assumed this was because she was a girl, at first, however, Dorcas doesn’t like talking about them either. Pandoras just strange like that, she cares about people in odd ways. Sometimes it’s nice, but mostly it’s terrifying.
Barty looks like he wants to talk. He also looks like he wants to watch Regulus, but every time he turns his head to do so he probably sees the red rimming of Regulus’ eyes and finds something much uglier than usual. It only makes Regulus feel all the more ashamed.
Barty starts whistling. It’s not his regular noise filling whistles either, it’s his uncomfortable whistling. He doesn’t want to be here, Regulus can tell. Merlin, he needs to get away.
“Going back to your dorm?” Barty asks as they round a corridor in the castle.
Regulus nods, “Is Evan-“
“He’s there.” Barty says, “Cas too… dunno about Dora, she’s always off with the fairies. If she’s not hugging Dorcas about their loss then I dunno where she is.”
Regulus goes tense, “I don’t want them to see me.”
Barty stops and swallows, “Okay… how about my dorm then? My roommates are all down by the lake. They snagged some firewhisky.”
“Okay.” Regulus agrees, because he has no where else to go.
Once settled in Barty’s dorm, Regulus changes into more comfortable clothes. Plaid pyjama pants and a green knitted sweater he knows is his own that went “missing” last year. He doesn’t question it, Barty’s strange like that. He likes to collect things, and especially Regulus’ things.
They’re both sitting on his bed, Regulus tucked up under the covers and Barty sitting on the other end. He’s flipping through one of his dorm mates magazines and whistling to himself, his regular whistling again. It calms Regulus a bit.
Lying there, stuck with his own thoughts, he can’t hide from the images that pop into his mind every time he closes his eyes. All of Sirius and James, all of them examples where Regulus placed last.
There’s so many it’s hard to filter out which ones are new and which ones are old.
They all hurt just the same.
“Whatcha crying about now?” Barty asks, looking over at Regulus. He didn’t even realise he was crying again, but he is. “Did I do something wrong? I’ll fix it, whatever. Get ya whatever you need, promise.”
“You didn’t do anything.” Regulus sniffles, rolling onto his back to look up at the ceiling. Barty’s stuck posters up there, muggle ones of girls on motorcycles and punk bands, just to piss off his dad. “I’m just…”
“Go on.” Barty asks, sitting up now, cross legged and attentive. “There’s no one here, just me. Promise I’ll never tell.”
Regulus sighs and fiddles with his fingers, “I don’t need your pity, Barty. I’ve survived this long, I can survive some more.”
“Yeah, but you’re crying.” He says, and Regulus glares at him. “What? I ain’t seen you cry before, it’s weird. I know it’s really gotta be botherin ya if you’re crying like this. What would Dora say?”
“She’d probably try to hug me and make me cry more.” Regulus offers.
“Do you want… me to- uhm, hug you?”
“No.” Regulus glares at him. “I don’t want your pity, I said.”
“It’s not my pity, Regulus!” Barty splutters, “It’s a bloody hug. Dora says there really good for ya! I love her hugs, you know. Get ‘em all the time. I- I know I’m no Pandora but… I mean, I can offer ya a real bony one.”
Regulus snickers and looks back up at the roof, “No thanks. That’s weird.”
“Is it?” Barty asks, “Cause… cause I’ve been listening to what she’s sayin and… I think it would be nice.”
“If I hugged you right now?” Regulus raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah… and other times.” Barty shrugged, “I dunno, might be dumb but… we’re supposed to be friends, ya know? Friends hug. Cas hates ‘em, unless they’re from Dora, but Evan and I hug sometimes.”
“You’re being weird.”
“I’m not trying to.” Barty frowned, “I just… I care about you, I suppose.”
Regulus swallowed. The only person who’s said that before has been Pandora, but she cares about everyone.
Barty… well, he doesn’t care about much at all. He cares about so little, that Regulus thought the only thing he probably cared about was pissing off his dad and Pandora herself. But apparently that’s not true.
Regulus doesn’t want to believe it. He doesn’t want to hurt himself by believing that he could be one of the very few things Barty has come to care about.
But they’re friends, and Barty watches him a lot, and collects Regulus’ things, and helps him when he cries, and offers to hug him.
Now Regulus is crying for a whole other reason.
“One hug?” Barty offers, sticking out his arms, “I’ll make it so quick and if you hate it we don’t ever have to do it again.”
Regulus contemplates it. He doesn’t remember the last time he was hugged.
He knows the last good one was Pandora, maybe last year, when they were leaving for summer. Quick and carefree. The last bad one, that was James. Not that it was bad at the time, but it hurts to think about now. It was false stability and ended in heartbreak. The last time he was hugged to be soothed though? His mind takes him back to Sirius, when they were still little.
“Fine.” Regulus mutters, sitting up under the covers, “But make it quick.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Barty nods and moves in, “Sorry if I’m uncomfortable.”
Regulus nods and sits very still as Barty wraps himself around Regulus’ shoulders. It’s awkward, to say the least. They’ve never done this before, and they’re going about it very strangely.
“Reg… you gotta relax a bit.”
“How am I supposed to relax when I have a boney man attached to me?”
Barty scoffs and squeezes him a little tighter, “Just put your head on my shoulder, orrite. Relax, just for a second.”
Regulus huffs but does it anyway. He leans his head over to rest on Barty’ shoulder and drops his own, and… oh, it’s nice. It’s actually really, really nice. Barty’s soothing his back, and twisting his finger around the end of Regulus’ hair. And it’s nice.
He can’t even feel Barty’s ribs poking him or anything. It’s really, really cosy.
Regulus pushes him away, wiping his tears.
Barty gives him a guilty smile, “Terrible?”
“No.” Regulus sniffles, “It was actually grossly nice.”
Barty snickers and nods his head, “Well, if you ever need another hug, I’ll give ya as many as ya kneed.”
“Thanks.”
“No problems, Black.”
Regulus fiddles with the ends of his sleeve, refusing to look up at Barty, who he knows is sitting there and staring. He’s so quiet, when he stares. It’s as if any noise Barty makes would ruin his ability to set his full attention solely on Regulus.
It’s so strange. He’s so strange.
“You can’t tell anyone.” Regulus mumbles.
“What, that we hugged?” Barty laughs.
“No.” He scoffs, “What I said before, wanker. In the showers.”
“Oh.” Barty nods, “Well, I wasn’t gonna anyway. Course not, Reg. I know you. I know you hate people knowing your business.”
Regulus nods, “You really wouldn’t have told anyone? Not even Dora?”
“Cross my heart.” Barty smiles, doing just that, “I know she’s my best friend, but you are too. It means something, you know?”
“Oh.” Regulus mumbles.
Barty can only laugh at him, and Regulus turns a little pink.
“Can I… no, don’t worry about it.”
“No, go on.” Barty offers, “It’s just you and me.”
Regulus sighs, “I just… I’m tired of not being good enough, Barty.”
“I dunno what you mean, Black. You’re bloody brilliant.” Barty says, flopping down on his back like a starfish, “You shoulda been in Ravenclaw with your smarts, and not to mention your skills as a seeker. You’re top of the class, Reggie, course you’re good enough.”
Regulus thinks Barty will never understand how much that singular sentence fucking means to him, even if he tries to explain it. It stings, how good it feels to hear it. He never has. Not once.
“Not just in school, Barty. Everywhere else.” Regulus mumbles, wiping his teary eyes. They’re stinging again, and he really doesn’t want to cry, but he knows he will. It’s so stupid. “Everything else. I’m just…”
Barty rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow to look at Regulus, “Like, with your family?”
Regulus nods, chewing on a hangnail.
“Yeah, I get that.” Barty sighs, “Is this about… those who must not be named?”
Regulus closes his eyes to compose himself, and nods again.
“Right.” Barty says, “Did Sirius do something? You know he barked at me the other day, like a fucking dog. So I’ll go hex him, happily, if you want?”
“No, Barty. Don’t.” Regulus shook his head, “He didn’t… I… they both just…”
“Go on.” Barty said softly, softer than Regulus has ever heard him speak before as he slowly sits up to get level with him.
“I’ll always be second best.” Regulus mutters, and then he starts crying again. Hot tears down his cheeks, redness in his eyes, stuttering over himself as he shakes.
“Oh, Reg…”
“He- he just picked James, over his own blood brother. Every time it’s James and… and I… and James just… I loved him. I loved him Barty, I was in love with him. I think part of me still is, but… he, he picked Sirius too. He picked Sirius, and Lily, because she’s just… she’s so pretty, and smart, and she’s got everything that I’ve got but, she’s just… she’s just so much better.” Regulus heaved, pressing a hand to his chest, “Everywhere, I see it everywhere. Not just with them, but mostly, I- I’ll never… I’ve never been someone’s first choice, Barty. Ever. And I don’t think I ever will be. No one picks me just because they can.”
His shoulders shake as he cries, his breath short and stuttered. When Barty reaches out in offer for another hug, Regulus falls forward into his arms, head pressed against his friends chest.
It feels so safe there, to be cradled in Barty’s arms, it’s warm. He cries a puddle through his sweater, but Barty doesn’t seem to mind.
“Shh, Reggie.” Barry sooths, lightly scratching his nails over Regulus’ back and sifting his fingers through his hair. “Just breathe, love. Just breathe.”
Regulus follows his command, taking deep breaths and timing them with the rise and fall of Barty’s chest beneath his head. He relaxes there, letting his eyes fall shut, and Barty continues to rub his back and play with his hair.
“I’m so tired.” Regulus mumbles through the last of his tears, “I’m going to fall asleep if you keep doing that.”
“That’s okay.” Barty laughs softly, “How about we lie down?”
“Isn’t that weird?” Regulus asks.
“Isn’t everything I do weird?”
Regulus shrugs and follows when Barty pulls him down to lay against the pillows. Barty slips under the covers with him, and pulls Regulus’ head against his chest again. Bartys heart is beating faster than it should be, but Regulus ignores it and wiggles around until he’s comfortable.
Once again, Barty strokes his back and scratches his scalp, and folds himself into Regulus a little.
He presses a little kiss to the top of Regulus’ head, and his heartbeat speeds up rapidly.
Regulus tenses, “Why is your heart beating like that, Barty? Are you okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?” He questions, already coming up with a million terrible reasons for it. He’s been so stupidly selfish about his own problems he didn’t even notice how uncomfortable he’s made his supposed best friend.
“No…” Barty half follows as Regulus sits up, leaning back on his elbows, “No, Reg. Obviously not.”
Regulus’ shoulders relax a little, “Well, then what is it?”
Barty looks away, “Come on, don’t tease, Reggie. I’m not in the mood.”
“I’m not teasing.” He shakes his head, “What’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem, obviously.” Barty snickers, “Come on, we can just… we can forget about it by tomorrow if it’s weird.
“What’s weird, Crouch?” Regulus pressed, “I don’t understand.”
Barty looked at him for a moment, eyebrows drawn together in the middle, and his mouth slowly fell open, “You don’t know?”
“Know what?” Regulus asked.
“About me…”
“About you… what?” Regulus shook his head.
“About…” Barty sighed, shaking his head in delirium. He laughed, at himself, mostly, which only confused Regulus more, “Everyone said it was obvious. I just thought we both… I thought we had an understanding. That we’d both ignore it and go on with our lives.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Barty?” Regulus asked, shoving at his chest.
“Oi!” Barty snickered, “That I… well… I thought you knew you’d be my first choice for everything.”
Regulus froze, scowling at him for a moment, “Don’t tease-“
“Not teasing, Reggie.” Barty looked away, taking a short breath. “Look, if it’s… if it’s too weird, I get it. But, I’m okay pretending, if you want.”
“P-pretending?” Regulus whispered.
“Yeah.” He shrugged, sitting up and loosely hugging his knees, “Pretending I’m not in love with you.”
Regulus didn’t have an answer for that. He was truely wound speechless. Barty… loves him?
“I meant it… I’d pick- I’d pick you over everything else in this world. I really mean it, Reggie. I promise.” Barty mumbled, “You’re my first pick, always have been.”
Regulus’ heart stops in his chest for a moment. His throat hurts and his eyes sting again. Regulus doesn’t think he’s cried as much as he has today through his entire life, including when he was a baby.
He can’t help it, crying again. Because Regulus believes him. Barty’s always been devastatingly honest, even at the worst of times. So why would he lie about this? And he looks so earnest, sounds it too. He sounds like he really, truely means it.
No ones ever picked Regulus first, besides Barty Crouch Jr, who has a collection of Regulus’ things, and who stares at him unashamedly, and consoles Regulus when he cries even if it makes him uncomfortable.
And Regulus has been too self centred to ever notice.
But Barty is in love with him, and by the sounds of it he has been for a while. Apparently everyone knows it.
He thinks about it for a moment, while he sobs and cries and heaves. Barty does all that he can to soothe him, reaching out to wipe away tears, and hold him, and rub his arms and back.
Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever felt as safe as he doesn’t when he’s around Barty. Which is an odd thing to realise, because Barty is kind of a loose cannon. He’s violent, and angry, and snarky and rude. But with Regulus he’s always… well, he’s funny, and he can still be a little rude sometimes, but he’s also kind and generous and a little odd.
Regulus now realises all that oddness he’s noticed is just things Barty does that signals he’s in love with him. But Regulus has never noticed, he’s never looked to see how Barty doesn’t do all these very things with other people.
He’s Barty’s first choice.
And now that he thinks of it, Barty might just be his.
He’s the only person Regulus trusts to see him like this. Not even Pandora could, as much as he loves her. Regulus just hates being vulnerable. But he supposed it’s a little different with Barty, because he’s always been a little vulnerable with Regulus.
It’s comforting, to say the least, to have confirmation that he’s wanted. That he’s cared for. That he’s somebodies first choice.
And Barty loves him, which is strange. He’s never looked at Barty in that way before. And sure, Barty makes plenty of jokes about finding Regulus fit and wanting to snog him and so on and so forth, but he’s never thought too deeply about it.
He does that with other people, doesn’t he?
Now that Regulus thinks about it, he definitely doesn’t do it as much as he does it to Regulus.
Barty pulls away, rubbing up and down Regulus’ biceps, as he gives a nervous smile. It’s crooked, like most of Barty’s smiles, but this time Regulus really notices it.
“I’m sorry if it’s weird, I dunno what to do, Reggie.” Barty tries, “How do I stop you crying?”
Regulus sniffled and blinked his tears away slowly, refusing to cry anymore. His cheeks are all wet and sticky, and his eyes fucking ache, as well as his throat, but he’s not thinking about that.
“Do you really mean that?” Regulus sniffles, and he blinks away a few more tears, “Me being your first choice?”
“Of course, why would I lie about that, Reg. It clearly means a lot to you- I just… I thought you knew.”
Regulus scrunches up his nose, “Well, why would I cry about how I’m no one’s first choice if I knew I was yours?”
Barty’s quiet for a moment. He retracts his hands and ducks his head to mumble, “I just thought… well I thought I didn’t really matter, at the end of it all.” He shrugged, “I’d do anything for you- I already have, you know, and… I just… I thought you knew. And I thought it didn’t matter to you because… well, I’m the same, I suppose. I don’t think anyone’s picked me first either.”
“You still… even thinking that I just- I just didn’t care about you, or your feelings or… or anything at all, you still…” Regulus scrunched up his nose, ducking his head to catch Barty’s eye, “You still would have picked me first?”
Barty nodded, “Done anything for you.”
“Oh.” Regulus whispered, shaking his head, “Barty…”
“Yeah?” Barty asked, swallowing a large lump in his throat.
Regulus kisses him. No thoughts, no warnings, no nothing at all. He just leans forward and kisses him right on the mouth.
Barty pulls away first, almost immediately, wide eyed and startled, “What the fuck did you do that for?”
“I don’t know.” Regulus muttered, touching his lips, “You just… I… you love me, and… fuck, Barty. You’re my best friend.”
“Yeah.” Barty nodded, there’s water in his eyes now, and Regulus can tell he’s trying to hold it back, “And you just kissed me. Please don’t- don’t do that. I’m… I can’t handle that, Reg. I can handle us being friends, even though it’s driving me mad, but… I just- I can’t-“
“Well, don’t you want to be more?”
“Fucking hell, Regulus.” Barty leers back.
“What?” Regulus scoffs.
“You can’t just fucking… don’t say that.” He shakes his head, taking a moment to compose himself, “Don’t be stupid, orrite. I can’t fucking… I love you, Reggie. I can’t handle… possibilities because I’m just… I’m gonna drive myself crazy thinking about them. And that’s not good.”
“I’ve never had someone love me before, Barty.” Regulus whispers, “I’ve never had someone… I want- I want to chose you too. You’re my best friend, and I already do choose you. But I want to do it more. I want to… please?”
“I don’t understand, Reg.” Barty whispered back.
Regulus took his hand, smoothing his fingers over Barty’s rigid knuckles. They’re rough and scarred, just as they always are. Just as Regulus knows them to be.
“I don’t really either, Barty.” He admits, “I never knew you felt that way, and I’ve never thought about it- you- us. I’ve never thought about us like that before, but I… I can picture it.”
Barty closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Barty. I don’t want to lead you on. I want to try. Don’t you want to try?”
Barty keeps his eyes sealed shut and he shakes his head no, “What happens when you get bored of me? What- what happens when Potter comes crawling back to you? What happens when you realise I’m fucking… more insane than you thought? I’d- don’t tempt me, Regulus, because I meant what I said, I’d do anything for you.” Barty’s breath trembles, “I’d kill him, I’d kill them both. I’d kill all of them, just to make you happy. So you never feel like a second choice to them ever again- I- I mean it, Regulus.”
“I know.” Regulus breaths, and it scares him, what Barty’s saying, because he does know. It’s not just words. But those words aren’t the part that scare him, it’s the fact that he likes it that does. It makes him want. “I know, Barty. And I know that if I hurt you, truly, truly hurt you like this, you’d make my life a living hell. I know.”
“What about Potter?” Barty asks, trying to mask tears of his own, “Don’t you love him?”
“Maybe.” Regulus admits, regretfully so, “But I don’t want to. He’d never… he could never love me the way you could anyway. The way that I need.”
“And how do you need it?”
“To be your first choice.” Regulus whispered, “How do you need it, Barty?”
Barty took a deep breath, thinking about it for a moment. He looked up at Regulus with a pout and hopeful eyes, “I just want to be good enough for love before anything else.”
Regulus smiles, “You are.”
Barty shakes his head.
“You are.” Regulus confirms, “To me, you are.”
Barty sniffles, “Do you love me… like that?”
Regulus sighs, “N… no.” He scolds himself for the truth, because it seems to shatter Barty’s heart to pieces. “But I want to, Barty… I want to love you the way you do me. And I think I will. You just have to let me.”
“Really?” Barty sobs.
Regulus nods, “Will you let me?”
Barty nods and leans back in, and Regulus kisses him again. They both had wet cheeks, and headaches, and heartaches from crying, but they kiss anyway. And Regulus cries again, for hopefully the last time, because Barty kisses like he never wants to stop.
Regulus has never been kissed like that before.
Regulus has never been loved before.
He thinks with Barty, he might just be enough.
★ ★ ★
Bartylus shippers unite.
This one’s so angsty I’m sorry but I can’t help it and yerr Reggie kinda has misogynistic views which is gross but it’s the fucking 70’s and look at his parents. I USUALLY write them all to be better than that and not arseholes but I wanted to make this one hurt.
Also I don’t think I’ve written from Reggie’s pov before sooooo that was interesting.
Idk I liked this. Let me know your thoughts :)
Read here on ao3
If you want to read more of my stuff you can find it all here :))
Tagging everyone that expressed interest in the angsty bartylus one shot lmao: @lapassemirroir @mayflywrites @garlicbread4ever @moonyluv-s @managingmischeif @stxr-bxy @the-lionsheart @crimsonlovebartylus
#bartylus#regulus black#barty crouch jr#using Jegulus as a plot point for bartylus 😬🤭👀🤷#Reggie has so many big feelings but he’s never got to express them before the poor baby#it’s okay. Barty’s here to save the day#also Barty is a Ravenclaw. and so skinny it’s concerning. he’s trying to defy his dad by being the opposite of the big man he wants him 2 b#Barty is also awkward. not good at emotions but feels them so violently anyway. Barty is also a loose fucking cannon.#barty thinks he doesn’t matter when he actually matters to regulus most of all. they both just didn’t know it yet#and then they kiss and get married and have lots of babies#pandora my beloved and lily both get honerable mentions of being wonderful wonderful women. even though Reggie hates Lily he still thinks#she’s amazing#marauders#slytherin skittles#prev Jegulus#barty x regulus#fluff at the end#angst#kinda Jegulus slander#fluff if you squint#so much angst#dead gay wizards#dead gay wizards from the 70s#RAB#Barty jr#Reggie
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Skin to Skin
Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB Reader
Word Count: 2,600
Summary: A boyfriend who has extremely sensitive skin makes reader super self-conscious about her own skin
Trigger warning: None
Written for this request
Masterlist
Waxing hurts.
You don’t care what other people say about it, it hurts. Whether it’s the first time or the twentieth time, no matter what you wax, it's all the same. Your skin feels like it's lit up like a fucking Christmas tree before it settles into a dull throb, and even though the pain lasts for just a few moments, it's enough for a gasp of discomfort and a tensing of your body whenever the warm substance is spread across the part of your body that becomes its next intended victim.
The habit randomly starts off with a girl's trip to Mexico in March. Sunscreen is packed, new bathing suits are bought, and a quick bikini wax is scheduled to make sure nothing was seen while on the beach. All in all, you're well prepared for a week long vacation in the sun.
Upon returning, all tan and relaxed, Matt comments on how smooth you feel as he nuzzles into your skin while working his way down your body and over your cunt. He takes his time using his mouth and fingers to get you off, rubbing his face into you, marveling at the lack of hair.
At first you enjoy it, how smooth it feels against his skin and the way he reacts to it. But afterwards, keeping your body as smooth as possible, knowing how sensitive his skin is, it becomes an…obsession.
Add in multiple social media images that encourage you to be as hair-free as possible, and it’s easy to understand how quickly you alter your routine to include it.
Full bikini waxes turn into the waxing of your entire legs. This is normal, you tell yourself, because it is. Plenty of people wax their legs. It’s easier, especially in the summer, to sit through a few minutes of having your hair savagely removed rather than shave every day. Like the bikini wax, it quickly turns into a habit.
It’s not long before you add in getting your arms taken care of, your underarms waxed, your eyebrows shaped (thought this is done for more of a cosmetic look, if you’re honest). Appointments take over an hour long as chunks of your unwanted body hair are mercilessly ripped out by the root and deposited into a trash can.
Matt loves the way your skin feels, he tells you. And you love giving the feeling to him.
Until you just...don’t.
“Where would you like to go to dinner tomorrow night?” he asks one evening as he rubs his fingers down your thighs, resting in bed with you after a heated session of him fucking the living daylights out of you. There will be an ache between your thighs for a day or two, you’re sure, though it'll be the most worthwhile pain in your life. “That new restaurant opened up on 42nd a few weeks ago. The menu sounds like something we’d enjoy.”
You shift awkwardly in his arms. “We don’t have to go anywhere. Can’t we just make something here? Or at my place?”
Matt’s not easily persuaded, even as you squirm against him, seemingly oblivious to your discomfort. “We haven’t gone out in a while. Let’s go try something new.”
You lower your eyes from his face, fidgeting with the top sheet laying over you. “I just don’t feel like going anywhere.”
Matt’s fingers pause against your thigh. “Is everything okay?” he asks, shifting and pulling his head back as if to better focus on you. His sightless eyes land somewhere to your left as he frowns. “You always love going out.”
You shrug, attempting to appear nonchalant, though you know you’re failing. “I do love going out. I just don’t know if tomorrow night is the right night.”
He sits up now, a look of concern heavy on his face as the silk sheet slides down to his hips. The soft light of the moon streaming in from his window illuminates the scars that sit upon his skin like fading lightning bolts. “What’s going on? This isn’t like you.”
“Nothing–”
“Why are you lying?” The question that spills out of his mouth is almost firm and hesitant at the same time, as if he’s demanding an answer, but nervous about what it might be. “Is it something I did? Do you…not want to be seen with me?”
Your eyes widen in horror as you sit up next to him, hand flying to the side of his face so your fingers can run lightly over his cheek bone. He usually would lean his face into your hand, but he refrains this time, and the lack of his response causes your heart to ache. This man, always so fierce as he prowls Hell’s Kitchen at night, battles with the idea of deserving love, and you hate that you may have caused him an ounce of self-doubt. “No! No, Matt. Nothing like that. I promise.”
“Then why?”
You sigh, eyes landing on the fresh set of bruises that litter across his collar bone. “I can’t…I can’t afford it right now.” And it’s 100% the truth. Waxing almost every inch of your body has cut into your monthly budget, and you cringe every time when you hand over your credit card. A few hundred bucks makes a major difference in your ability to go do fun things, either with Matt or your friends, and sacrifices have been made.
You often find yourself wishing that you could use those at home gel waxing kits, knowing how much cheaper they are, but you’re terrified to burn your more…sensitive area.
Matt almost sags in relief, and a sudden brief grin flickers across his face. “Is that all it is? Because it’s no issue, sweetheart. It can be my treat.”
“No, that’s really not necessary,” you object immediately, shaking your head. He pays more often than not, regardless of how hard you try to pay you fair share. He’s a sneaky little shit, always handing the waiter his credit card before you can even pull out your wallet.
It had taken you literally chucking your credit card at the server last time in order to get the jump on Matt, and the grin that made an appearance on your face was almost smug. He grumbled about it the whole way back to his apartment, then fucked you against his the wall of his entry way, panting in your ear that you were his to take care of. “Let’s just go in a few weeks after I’ve saved enough. Please?”
He observes you quietly before he nods reluctantly. “Okay, sweetheart. We can do that,” he agrees softly, reaching over to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “What should we make for tomorrow night? Are you feeling pasta?”
He pulls you back down to sprawl across his chest, and the rest of the night goes on without a hitch. Crisis averted.
—
You’re always careful to not schedule plans with Matt the day of or day after you get waxed, knowing he’ll easily smell the scent all over your body. You know he’s obviously aware that you’ve continued your bikini waxing as that one is a little harder to hide, but you don’t necessarily want him to pick up on the fact that you’ve started stripping nearly your whole body of any hair you've come to think of as undesirable.
It’s not that you’re nervous for him to know, it’s just that you don’t want him to feel like you’re only doing it for him. Even if you were to tell him you weren’t, he’d see right through the lie. The man is a ball of guilt enough as it is.
But as hard as you try, your practiced evasion tactics are finally peeled back and revealed.
He catches you on a random Thursday night while you’re at home, sliding himself in through your window, asking if you can clean a laceration on the part of his back he can’t quite reach. He greets you with a sweet kiss, his lips moving lightly over yours while he brushes the back of his knuckles over your cheek bone.
Antiseptic, gauze, medical tape and a clean cloth soaked in warm water are set on the table within a few minutes, and his bloody shirt is soaked and rubbed with hydrogen peroxide before being tossed into your washer. He sits at your kitchen table, a mixture of smooth skin, scars, and old and fresh bruises creating a kaleidoscope of colors over his back.
“What’s that smell?” He asks when you’re done wiping him clean and bandaging him up, tilting his head to the left, the way he always does when he’s curious about something. You freeze briefly in the middle of cleaning up the supplies, before continuing and tossing the used items in the trash can.
“What smell?”
“It smells…kinda oily? Waxy? I’m not quite sure how to describe it,” he answers, looking a little puzzled. “And there’s some kind of lotion or something over the top of it.”
“Oh,” you say, acting surprised, though you aren’t. You knew the second he said something exactly what he was talking about; it was something you’ve tried to avoid him smelling, knowing it might bring up some questions that you don't necessarily feel like answering. “I got waxed today. They always put a serum on the skin when they’re done.”
He grins with a light nod. Puzzle solved. “That’s it, that makes sense.” He gets up from the table and walks over to you, footsteps annoyingly silent on the floor, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He pushes your hair to the side and places a gentle kiss on the back of your neck. “I do like it when you’re smooth,” he says with a sigh, hand drifting between your legs suggestively. “Feels so good against my skin.”
You try not to wince, but fail.
Matt’s mouth makes its way down the side of your neck and onto the bare shoulder where your t-shirt has slipped off every so slightly. He pauses abruptly and inhales. “You smell like wax up here, too.”
Fuck.
“Yeah. I get my underarms waxed, too,” you tell him as you rest your head back against his shoulder. He rests his against yours and presses a kiss to your cheek. “It’s much easier to maintain in the summer.”
“But it’s October,” he comments, voice laced with humor.
You stumble over your words as you answer. “Right. I started over the summer, and I decided to keep doing it because it’s easier to take care of compared to shaving.”
Matt lets go of you, turns you around, and takes a step back, head tilted at you as his eyes dance around your kitchen sightlessly. “What else do you get waxed?”
You shift on your feet, realizing there’s no way to lie now, not with the way he's fully locked in on everything you say and do. “My arms…and my legs.”
His eyebrows raise slightly. “Why do you do that?” He sounds more curious than anything, and it's almost a relief. It’s not like it’s necessarily a big deal, him knowing, you just think it would be easier if he didn't.
Shrugging your shoulders, you take a large sip of the water that’s on the counter next to you to avoid sounding flustered. “I like doing it.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
You laugh, hating the way it sounds almost nervous, even to your own ears. “Well, yeah. But it’s not that bad.”
“And you think it’s worth it?”
“I mean, it feels good afterwards,” you say, waving your hand nonchalantly. “Don’t you think so? You like it smooth, right? It feels good against your skin.”
Matt’s jaw drops a fraction of any inch as his eyes widen ever so slightly. You curse inwardly, already knowing where this conversation is headed. “Are you–are you doing this because you think I need you to?”
“No!” You rush out immediately, unsettled that he’s picked up on it so quickly. “I like it, too.”
“But you said it hurts, right?”
“Well, yes,” you answer honestly, because there’s no reason to lie about that. It does hurt, both during the appointment and hours later when your skin is almost too sensitive to touch. “But it really isn’t that bad, I promise. It just makes my skin feel nice, so I keep going back.”
“Your skin already feels nice,” Matt asserts, the frown on his face deepening. He takes another step back from you, creating some space between the two of you. “You don’t need to get rid of all your hair for it to feel that way.”
“No, I know that.”
His eyebrows knit together as if suddenly something abruptly occurs to him. "And just how expensive is it?” He asks, and the tone sounds vaguely suspicious. All movement within you freezes, unprepared for the question.
You clear your throat. “It’s…not that much.”
“How expensive?” He repeats, eyes narrowing. He's always managed to put two and two together rather quickly when faced with a question he feels needs answered as soon as possible. And while you are endlessy enraptured by his intellect, by his perseverance, you sometimes wish he would just let things go.
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. You know he probably won’t like this answer either, even though he knows you’re a grown adult who can handle your own finances. He worries about you, always making it his personal mission to make sure you're taken care of, despite your assurances that you're fine. “A few hundred bucks a month.”
Matt’s eyes widen more drastically this time, his eyebrows shooting up. “A few hundred–”
“I mean, it’s worth it, right?” You hurriedly interrupt him, eyeing the way he’s two seconds away from pacing around your kitchen, something he does when he’s a little frustrated. At this point in your relationship, you're shocked he hasn't worn a hole into your living room carpet. “You said you like the way it feels against your skin.”
“Are you–please don’t tell me you’re doing this just for me,” he says again, echoing his earlier question. You grimace at the way guilt has started seeping into his voice.
This is exactly what you've been trying to avoid.
“I’m not! But you literally just said a few minutes ago how much you like it when I’m smooth.”
He looks at you incredulously. “It feels nice, but not like this. I thought you were doing it because you wanted to.”
“But I am doing it because I want to.”
“Are you doing it because you actually want to? Or are you doing it because you want to give me something you think I want?”
You shift on your feet awkwardly, the floorboard creaking ever so slightly underneath your weight. “Does the distinction matter?”
“Of course it does,” he says adamantly, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t need this. Your skin feels soft no matter what. You don’t need to wax all of your hair off for me to enjoy touching you.”
You lick your lips nervously. “But–”
He cuts you off. “You said it hurts, right?”
“I…yes.”
“And it’s expensive?”
“Yes.” You can’t deny it, not when he’s hounding you like this.
“Expensive enough that you don’t do any of the other things you enjoy anymore because you can’t afford it.” It’s not a question.
You’re silent for a second. He absolutely hit the nail on the head with that one, and you know denying it will only make things worse. "Yes.”
“Then why?”
“You like soft things,” you admit with another lift and fall of your shoulders. “I know how sensitive your skin is. I thought you’d like it if I made things soft for you.”
Matt closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath. “I only like those things if you like them. I couldn’t give less of a fuck either way, whether you want to strip yourself bare or not. It’s you that I want.”
“I–”
“None of the other details matter,” he says with a suddenly quiet sigh. He steps back into your space to grab your face between his hands. “You could shave your head, pierce yourself all over, gain thirty pounds. I really don’t care about any of it, as long as I’ve got you.”
Your eyes flit over his face, looking for one ounce of dishonesty and finding none. Just red lips, brown eyes tinted with green, and the laugh lines you love so much. You lean into him with a quiet exhale, and he takes the opportunity to wrap you fully in his arms, his bare chest a burning line through your t-shirt.
“So…I should stop?” You ask hesitantly, your voice as quiet as his now.
His voice is insistent when he answers. “If you want to. I want you to do what you want."
“And you wouldn’t mind?”
“Not one bit,” he reaffirms, hand pushing itself into your hair. He massages your scalp lightly, the motion a familiar one that always soothes you. Like a charm, you moan as you do your best to push your head further into his palm. His quiet laugh follows the action, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
He knows what this does to you, and he's using the knowledge against you, the asshole.
“I’ll be a little prickly for a bit,” you tell him almost absentmindedly, still somewhat focused on the way his fingers are digging slightly into the back of your head.
He snorts inelegantly into your ear. “Does my stubble bother you?”
The random question makes you pause as your mouth opens, confused. “No, why?”
“Then why do you think I’ll be bothered by yours?”
“But–”
His hands drop to your ass as he picks you up suddenly, and your legs wrap instinctively around his waist, your face slightly above his as he titls his head up so that his lips are just under yours. You’re careful to situate yourself in a way that doesn’t irritate the cut between his shoulder blades. You watch as slow smirk lights up his face. “Just shut up and let me tell you how much I love you no matter what.”
A smile breaks out across your face, the first one since he climbed through your window an hour before. “Why don’t you make me?”
He pulls your mouth down to his, and with a laugh, sets you on your counter, pulls off your clothes, and presses his love into your skin.
#daredevil#matt murdock#supportive boyfriend!Matt Murdock#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x afab reader#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock fanfiction#daredevil fanfiction#ask response#ask request
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Here’s a prompt.. For either Chris Evans, or maybe Bucky Barnes…
“You kissed me.”
“You kissed me back.”
“And I’m not here to apologize.”
Of course, do what you want with it, or nothing at all! ❤️❤️
Keeping a fake, bright smile on your face, you walked through the open space of Melissa's obscenely expensive house in New Hamptons and into the wide, pristine backyard that stretched far out to the slopes by the beach.
You tried to keep your steps slow, but the annoyance pumping in your veins was driving you to march until you found your target.
It would be better to approach him in the privacy of his house, but the asshole hasn't been there for the past few days. He hasn't been in his office either.
No, how could he be, if your boss sent him to negotiate a deal with Barnes&Rogers.
A deal for which you worked your ass off for two months, spending countless hours researching, looking for loops, rubbing hands with old friends who could provide you bits of secret intel.
Then Andy Fucker Barber slides in and steals the case from your hands.
Okay, so maybe he didn't exactly steal it. Maybe your boss was a misogynistic prick who gave it to Barber after learning that Andy was in the same frat house as Rogers and Barnes. Even though they haven't really keep in touch for the past ten years.
But you couldn't exactly unleash your anger on your boss, so you directed it onto Barber.
Which lead to a whole mountain of other problems.
Problems that kept you up at night, tossing and turning, and nearly killing the battery of your vibrator.
You spotted him at the very far back of the garden, standing in the shade of a tree. With a glass in one hand and a phone in the other, ignoring the phony spectacle of ass kissing and gossiping.
Trying to stick to the paved routes, so your heels wouldn't sink into the ground, you maneuvered between people (exchanging greetings and smiles). To reach Barber, however, you had to go off path.
He noticed you when you nearly wobbled a few steps from him, as your heel sunk into soft earth. Gritting your teeth, you yanked your foot free and made the last steps between you.
"Hello, fucker!" You hissed, keeping your voice low.
You poked him square in the chest. Twice. Which, in your opinion, was still a better choice than pushing him with all your might. You wanted to do that so much.
"What's this about?" Andy frowned, though he didn't seem even mildly swayed by your poking.
His seemingly clueless act angered you even further.
You spent almost a week processing what happened that late evening in Andy's office, couldn't get it out of your head (and other body parts), and here he was acting as if he didn't remember it happening.
"You kissed me!" You reminded him, barely stopping yourself from kicking him in the ankle.
And then you weren't in the office in the next day to talk it out! You weren't in your home to talk it out! And it's not something to talk on the phone about! Would you even pick up? You left as if nothing happened and it didn't mean a single thing! - All of these remained unspoken, boiling only in your head.
Andy leaned slightly forward, lowering his voice as well as he countered - "You kissed me back."
You did.
One moment you were ranting to him how unfair it was, how he better not fuck up the deal you were working on, the next second Andy's lips were on you, swallowing your anger and transforming it into a different spark.
It ignited an eager reaction on your part, pushing you into temptation which you battled since the handsome bastard started working at your company almost a year ago.
That kiss was toe-curling.
Made you pliant in Andy's hands, opening your lips to any of his demands, chasing his mouth when he threatened to pull away.
If it wasn't for the phone that rang then, it could lead to something more.
In the end it led to your annoyance and desire to kill Andy Barber.
"And I'm not here to apologize." You crossed your arms over your chest, adamant on not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how he flipped your world upside down for a few days.
"No, you wouldn't." Andy chuckled and slipped his phone into his pocket.
He stepped closer to you, leaning down until his beard brushed against your cheek and his hot breath tickled your ear.
"I bet the only way to get you apologizing and behaving appropriately is to take you over my knee and spank your ass red."
His words made the breath in your chest hitch. A never before heard sound escaped your lips - a mixture of outrage and desperate need.
"I think it would also help releasing some of your frustration." Andy pulled back slightly, enough to look into your eyes.
"Do you want that?" He asked, holding your gaze. "Want me to help you? Want me to fuck it all out of your system?"
#splendidreads#andy barber x reader#andy barber x female reader#andy barber x you#andy barber imagine
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Wayne looks at Eddie and sees alot of himself.
He sees the snarky attitude. The sarcasm. The anger, the resentment. Sees the slight crookedness to his nose from a school fight years ago, crooked just like his from when he fought back in a drunken rage against his own father. He sees the smile and crinkle of his eyes and has to stop himself from pulling out the photos of him when he was younger, when he and his brother were in school, where he would smile wide for picture day, eye-smiles wide enough to block his vision.
He sees it all, and thinks, that's my boy. No one knows him like I do. No one knows just how fucking important he is. But by god, he will try to make them see. Would hold his hand when walking him into school, chat to his teachers, and say 'He really likes reading', and list all the books he had on the coffee table Eddie would scrounge through (a total of five, if they didn't count the magazines, newspaper, and pamphlets).
He'd twirl him around in the air out in the park when he was still in his single digits and not yet living with Wayne fulltime. Would throw him up and help him fly like he asked, would zoom him around the manmade construct and listen to the story his boy would tell, hanging on every word.
He sees alot of himself in Eddie, but he's surprised when he sees a bit more.
It all starts when he comes home from his shift, which have been shortened and his pay raised in apology for witch-hunting his nephew just months before.
He gets to their new little home, a two bedroom bungalow with enough space in all the rooms to have a family Christmas dinner, and sees a shiny BMW in the driveway. It's familiar. He knows who's home.
He walks inside, kicks off his boots, and when he turns to grab a drink from the kitchen, he sees it.
Eddie and Steve rolling out dough, cookie cutters strewn over their kitchen island.
There's flour over their cheeks, just a slight dusting, but it's all so sweet and domestic that he needs a moment.
He sees it all, and just like he does all the time with Eddie, sees himself.
Sees himself and someone he thought he was over long ago.
But here he is, just outside his kitchen, watching his boy and his friend make biscuits, laughing and throwing rolled balls of dough at eachother, and it reminds him of when it had all changed for him.
Reminds him of tough, but gentle, hands. Reminds him of deep blue eyes and blonde locks. Reminds him of whispered promises and hugs that lasted a second too long.
He sees his boy and his friend making biscuits in the kitchen, and Wayne knows.
He sees it.
Eddie and him, they are so alike.
Because his boy has the same look in his eye that he did himself when he left his family, left his brother and his father, and held tightly onto a pair of hands that carried his heart.
He looks at Eddie who looks at Steve with such compassion, so carefree as the sun's light streams though the windows, dough under his fingernails, and he sees himself.
"You better pick all that up," They turn to him, shock on their faces, a wide eyed look on the Harrington boy, and he nods his head. "Don't want dough all over this new kitchen, boys," Is all he says before forgoing his drink, and marching upstairs to his room.
He finds the old shoebox of photographs, picks a few out, and looks. Memorises them, burns them into memory.
The first one is of him and a man he once knew, an arm over his shoulders as they look at one another. He looks at the soul he once knew and sighs. Those eyes, he thinks, those eyes sparkled with life. He looks at himself and blinks. So much alike, him and Eddie.
The second one is blurry, hazy. A picture taken quickly and unsteady, fingers fumbling with the object and unsure of what to press.
It's of his lips on the man's cheek, and he can see the smile that once rocketed his heart into space, beating a million miles a minute.
The third one is simple. Two men stand at a welcome sign, each having an arm strewn over the other. They smile into the camera.
It's of him and someone he knew. Someone who knew him.
He tucks the second photo in his pocket, puts the others back in the shoebox and puts it back into safekeeping.
Eddie and him are alot alike.
He knows that.
And later tonight, when it's just them, he'll show the photo and let Eddie know just how alike they are.
He'll let Eddie know, and will tell him how proud of him he is. How safe he is.
They are both alike, in so many ways.
He thinks of the camera he has hidden away, and wonders if Eddie would like photographing his own sun, too.
#pls the munsons mean so much to me#this was too short to post on ao3 so u get queer wayne reminiscing on tumbr ONLY !#idk i like to think wayne is queer n went mostly non contact with his family when he first left with his partner#wayne n eddie do things to me no other parent n child duo can do#wayne munson#eddie munson#steddie#stranger things#ficlet#.writing
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God Damn : Changkyun❤️🔥
A/N: (i wrote this like over a year ago and never edited it🙃) Changkyun x reader (1st person), toxic breakup, drinking, angst, raw sex, rough sex. Emotional and smutty...I apologize in advance. 🌚
6.6k words
"I'm really worried about him."
"He hasn't been himself since you left..."
"He's so lost without you..."
"He's not responding to any of us and we can't find him..."
"Please Mira.....you're the only one who knows him like us..maybe even better than us. He'll talk to you."
That last text from Kihyun was the hardest one to ignore because it was true.
I did know Changkyun better than his friends and that was one of the reasons why I left him in the first place.
I was done with him and this fucking city, already packed and in a hotel until the day of my flight came. This place held too many memories for me to remain here after our separation some months ago and the wounds were too fresh to risk the temptation to go back.
It hurts but I can't keep living like this.
Neither can he.
I knew I would find him here though.
He was such a creature of habit that it annoyed me that his friends wouldn't think to look here first.
It never fails.
He was always so easy to predict and sometimes I wish he'd prove me wrong.
Just once.
Maybe this is a setup.
Hmm...
The smoke was thick and blinding in the crowded basement and the bass shook the walls as I descended from the final step. The rain and thunder outside were drowned out immediately by the music and I have to squint my eyes to see through the haze as I stepped through it.
It was a typical Saturday night and the mutual acquaintance and owner of the house was hosting one of his usual boozed-up functions that I admittedly used to look forward to. But we all have to grow up sometime.
I moved through the swaying crowd of people too drunk and high to care about making way for the angry curly-headed brunette searching the crowd. All of them were lost in the rhythm of the music.
And whatever else they were on...
I hoped he would be among the many in the small sea of stoners. Make my life easy just once would you, Im Changkyun.
Fucking pain in my ass.
Eventually, I made my way to the furthest corner of the party which was illuminated by beaming red LEDs. Several booths lined the back wall where a single light bulb glowed above each table. All of them were littered with paraphernalia, hookahs, empty liquor bottles, and ashtrays filled to the brim with roaches (not the bugs) and cigarette butts. The stink of smoke was even more potent here since it was the source and it burned my eyes the closer I got.
That's when I saw him.
I know it was him immediately by the sway of his long unkept hair hanging in his face. His black leather jacket is draped behind him and the bulge of his tattooed bicep flexes beneath his loose white v-neck tee. He sat with his head down, his elbows resting on the table and his hands running through his hair.
He's alone. Thankfully. Or else this would have been thrice as awkward. It was at that moment that I questioned my intentions as I lingered a few feet away.
Why am I here?
I should just call one of his friends and tell them he's here.
Jooheon would be happy to pull up with Hosoek more than likely to take over.
Kihyun would march straight up to him and yank him up by his collar.
Minhyuk would most likely do something similar after cussing him out for worrying everyone.
Hyunwoo would sit and talk some sense into him, convince him to pull himself out of this ditch he'd buried himself in.
Hyungwon would drink with him for a little before convincing him to quit and go home.
They were his friends. They should be the ones to handle him in his ruins. Not me.
I should just call one of them.
I should walk away now.
I should...
I'm about to step back into the darkness of the dance floor but suddenly go stiff when Changkyun lifts his head and for the first time in what feels like forever I see his face.
He seems thinner, his jawline sharper than I remember, and there is a red smudge staining the corning of his bottom lip. That's when I noticed the redness on his knuckles.
The scrapes, bruises, and scars.
What had he done to himself after we went our separate ways? Drinking himself into a stooper aside. What demons had he been battling that I couldn't bear witnessing any longer?
Without thinking about it anymore, I approached him with a fast beating and heavy heart. I'm gonna get him out of here and be done.
For good.
I stand beside where he's seated and wait for him to notice me, hoping he isn't too far gone in the glass of what I presumed to be some form of cognac with no ice.
It only takes a few seconds for Changkyun to lift his head to look up at me with blank eyes. It's as if I was just some random girl blocking the light. But after a few seconds of exaggeratedly slow blinking, his expression changes from indifference to annoyance.
"Amira?" I catch on his lips. Changkyun looks me up and down, studying me in my jeans and coat before lazily locking eyes with me again.
"I'm here to take you home." I raise my voice and the look of irony on my ex's face gives me pause.
"Home...." He slurs with a tsk as he drags his eyes back down to the swirling liquor in his glass.
I furrow my brow at him but choose to dismiss the look of disgust on his face.
"Get up," I say with more urgency, not even bothering to raise my voice. Changkyun scoffs lightly before picking up the short-cut glass set before him on the table.
My face hardened as he ignored me to take a sip of the amber substance, his Adams Apple bobbing as he swallowed.
"I am home so.......Fuck off...." He mumbles, gesturing towards the glass as he sucks in another sip.
He was so stubborn when was drunk.
Definitely NOT going to miss that.
Losing my patience, I reach for the glass before he can take another sip and Changkyun's lightning reflexes seem well intact judging by how quickly he moved the cup from my reach. But in the process, he also underestimates the strength of his grip and the small glass shatters in his grasp.
Broken shards fall over the tabletop, spilling the alcohol all over its surface. No one around reacts to the scene though, leaving only me to witness the frustration in Changkyun's expression.
"God dammit..." I hear him huff and my eyes go wide at the steady stream of blood tricking from his palm. He doesn't seem to notice it though and is staggering to his feet like a drone. I already knew what he was after, a drink to replace that one and I wasn't having it.
"No," I say as I grabbed him by the wrist. Changkyun looks down at my hand then at me and scoffs.
"What are you doing?" He furrows his brow with an arrogant smirk.
"You can barely walk. No more drinking. Let's go." I yell over the music.
"Go home, Mira..."
"I'm not leaving here without you!"
"For fucks sake..."
Changkyun drunkenly scoffs at me again before snatching out of my grasp. I quickly grab his other and it turns into an obnoxious game of snatch and grab on the dance floor.
If I weren't so annoyed and pissed, I would be embarrassed at how childish we must have looked. Standing there playing tug of war with each other. Of course, I was no match for Changkyun's strength but I was sober. This meant my reaction time reflexes and persistence were bound to have him relenting to my will eventually.
It took some convincing and a bit of manhandling on my end to get Changkyun to leave the basement. Thankfully, there seems to be a break in the storm and I glance up at the sky with relief.
At least we wouldn't have to walk in the rain on top of me dragging this drunk ass.
My mood plummets once we reach the sidewalk. Because the moment we're outside and the humid air hits him, I flinch at how Changkyun suddenly moves out of my reach to double over a random trash can.
Ugh.
I rolled my eyes even harder as he wretched into the metal bin, resisting the urge to go to him. To rub his back and stroke his hair. To comfort him through the inevitable.
I don't though.
That wasn't my job anymore.
We stumble up the sidewalk for a few blocks until we reach his apartment building and I get him inside using the code I'd memorized from frequent use over the years. It was now pouring again and we were drenched by the time we stepped inside the building's lobby.
I get him inside and shiver at the chilling temperature from the doorway. As if being soaked to the bone with rainwater wasn't enough. It seemed as though just to vex me, my thoughtless drunk of an ex kept his heat off all day.
"Ugh..." I exhale again. Standing here cussing him in my mind wouldn't get us warm so with me supporting most of his weight, we enter.
A trail of wet shoes and outerwear lay abandoned by the front door and the hum of the heat filling the old vents of his apartment swirl around us as I sat in the living room.
I kept his lights dim and left the TV off as I listened to the rain pattering against the windows.
Changkyun snored softly in the spot I allowed him to plop down on the couch and he'd fallen asleep immediately, his hair and shirt still damp, leaving me on the armchair opposite of him.
There Amira. The job was done.
You can leave now.
Leave him and all of this torment behind you.
I said that to myself as I rose to my feet. Changkyun remained still and sleeping with his face mushed against the cushion, his wet hair fanned out over his head.
Why did he have to be so cute AND such a disaster all at once?
Lightning strikes, spooking me to sit back down on the indented sofa. Then another chill ran over my body despite the warming air, reminding me of the weather I'd be facing again once I stepped outside.
An Uber or cab would cost a bit.
And the metro station was too far to walk to in the rain.
Perhaps I should have thought this through, instead of allowing Kihyun's worrisome ass to convince me to do this.
"Dammit.." I sigh, ultimately deciding it would be best to stay put. Hopefully, Changkyun remained asleep by the time the storm let up enough for me to sneak out of there.
So I stayed, reluctantly, and leaned my head back against the cushion of the sofa.
Between the thunder, the buzzing hum of the heating system in his apartment, and the soft sound of Changkyun's muffled snoring, it wasn't long before my eyes began to roll back sleepily.
"Hey...."
I flinch and my eyes pop open to find Changkyun standing before me in the living room, shirtless with his wild mane sitting messily atop his head.
It looked as if he'd awakened some time ago and taken a shower since he's in different clothes and the clean scent of his shampooed hair is detectable from his proximity.
I gulp as my eyes travel down his body of their own volition but blink away any inappropriate ideas before they can form. I lift my gaze to find him staring at me with the same dark interest.
"You're still here..." he states calmly as I sit up in the seat and he regards me just as soft as his voice as I glance around the room with mild confusion.
It was still dark outside but the storm had eased up significantly.
Damn...
How long was I asleep?
His eyes seemed more sober than they were before he passed out and I looked up at him speculatively.
That's a relief.
"Um...yeah. Must have dozed off.." I mutter, grimacing as I shake the sleepiness away.
Changkyun makes a noise that could have either been a scoff or a snort of humor.
"Yeah. Me too.." he chuckles, but his smile doesn't touch his eyes as it trailed off.
I can't imagine the headache he must have right now.
At his pause, I take it upon myself to continue.
"I stuck around hoping that the storm would let up a bit and dry off. I wasn't trying to..."
"Naw it's cool. You don't have to explain...Shit, to be honest...I don't even remember how I got home. Glad you had something to do with that and not some random..." he chuckles shamelessly and although I know he saying it in a joking manner, I know he is serious.
There's no telling how many women he's brought back here after getting shitfaced.
The thought makes my stomach turn.
"Yeah well...Since you're awake, I should probably get going..." I concede amid his nervous chuckling, preparing to stand and Changkyun immediately lifts his hands to stop me.
"What? No...I mean... it's still raining and it's late. People drive like dick heads over here when it's wet..." he says, his choice of words always colorful.
"It's fine...I didn't drive. I took the train." I said truthfully.
Changkyun frowns at my response.
"You took the train? What happened to your car?" He asks and I go tense.
Oh boy.
"I.......sold it," I answer him, tucking my lips between my teeth as I wait for him to digest the answer.
The two of us hadn't spoken in a while which meant I hadn't made him aware of me moving away, let alone me selling the car he'd spent countless hours working on for free.
Other than it being in my name and me being financially responsible for it, Changkyun put just as many miles and effort into it as if it were his.
"You sold your car..." he deadpans and I nod affirmatively.
Bravely.
Awkwardly.
"Yep. For a really good price to a guy I knew from uptown. I.... can't afford to take it with me so.."
"Oh right! Because you're moving out of the city." Changkyun interrupts me.
The sluggishness in his voice was no longer present, telling me he was for sure sober. But that same hint of disdain and disgust presented itself as he spoke. I open my mouth to respond but he cuts me off.
"Yeah....I know. Kinda saw it on Instagram. The whole "going away party" threads on your friend's stories gave me the clue. Sucks that I couldn't hear the news from you but...ya know." he shrugs sullenly.
I stand there quietly for a moment, unsure of what to say.
"Yeah." is all I can muster and Changkyun scoffs.
"Yeah.." he chuckles breathily, turning away from me as he runs a hand through his hair. I watched him begin to pace slowly, rubbing at the back of his neck and flaunting his bare upper body to the neon glow of the street lights just beyond his apartment window.
"I get it though. Of course you sold it. I mean...why not? You could always just get a replacement. Since that's your way of doing shit anyway. Commit to something, get it all fixed up, and just...walk away from it." He turns on his heel to throw in before turning his back to me again.
His statement stuns me and I'm left speechless as he continues away from me.
I watch his back and the shadows cast against his muscles from the dimness as he walks over to his array of liquor bottles lined up against the back wall of the kitchen counters. He reaches for a half-empty Hennesy, twisting the cap and tipping it back for a hefty sip that's swallowed down like water.
I furrow my brow at the way his shoulders sag in relief as he turns to me.
"You could have told me, you know? Thought we were better than that," he remarks stiffly before he lifts the bottle back to his lips, gazing over its body at me as he takes another sip.
His eyes are expectant and I just stare back, too tired to indulge him.
I sigh heavily and begin patting my pockets to make sure my phone and wallet are still there before spotting my keys on his coffee table.
"The only reason I'm here was because Kihyun reached out." I snatch them up and they jingle loudly as I step around the table. Changkyun frowns at the sound of his friend's name on my lips and narrows his eyes.
"Why the fuck would he hit you up?" he asks and I snort at the bitterness of his question.
"I asked myself the same thing. But he figured I was his last resort in getting in contact with you, seeing as how you've been avoiding everyone and missing work. Believe me, though, I'm starting to wish he hadn't..." I respond honestly breezing past Changkyun in the direction of his guest bathroom.
The only reason I'm able to move so comfortably around his apartment was that Id damn near made it my second home in the duration of our tumultuous relationship.
I wouldn't be surprised if I still had a toothbrush or a box of tampons here.
I flip the light switch, not at all surprised to find Changkyun following close behind and my disheveled reflection staring back at me in the mirror. My curls had dried only a little and my makeup was smudged a tad but not ruined.
"Right..because I'm not your problem anymore." He chuffs, taking another sip and I roll my eyes at his antics as I try to tend to my appearance. I run my fingers through my hair roughly before snatching a paper towel off the roll, dampening it before wiping just below my eyeline.
"You were never my problem Changkyun. The only one here with problems was you." I mutter distractedly, frowning at how difficult it was to wipe away my mascara. My response seems to amuse him and an ironic smirk crosses his face as he leans against the doorway.
"And I'm guessing that's why you left? Me and my problems? Just me though, right? Since you're so perfect..." he asks with a cheeky tone and I hiss irritably as I abruptly turn to face him.
"What choice did I have? What choice did you give me? All we do is fight. It's not healthy for either of us and I'm exhausted. YOU are exhausting. I never claimed to be perfect but you..." I go on and Changkyun nods cynically as I speak.
"Yeah...c'mon. Lay it on me. Tell me how horrible I am despite all the shit I've done for you...I'm the fucking worst right?" He chortles and I can't help but laugh.
"Like I haven't done shit for you! Don't act like that negates the fact that you can't change or that...I don't know...We just aren't compatible anymore. That we've grown apart..."
"I'm not changing for somebody who doesn't know what the fuck they want. Ok?" Changkyun cuts in, jutting his forefingers into his sternum emphatically.
"You're impossible to satisfy Mira! You want me to be someone that I'm not. At least not yet...You put pressure on me to do shit how you want and when I fall short, I'm the bad guy. I never cheated on you. Never put my hands on you..."
"Gee, thanks for the bare minimum of common decency Kyun. I appreciate it." I mumble amid his rambling...
"..when you suggested seeing a shrink, I was open to it.." he continues.
"But did you go?" I tack on and he rolls his eyes.
"That's not the point. You gotta give me time. This shit here? Talking about my feelings...this is new territory for me. You never cut me any slack. You just criticize and jet like you're doing now.."
"Because I'm tired of cutting you slack. I'm tired of waiting...I wanted us to evolve and be better together. I wanted us to live together officially and live healthier and get married and..." I trail off, the words clogging my throat as the heartbreak of feeling rejected by him swell.
For a while, we were fine.
But eventually, I wanted more than what he was willing to give. And he tried to appease me and distract me from the fact that our relationship had hit a plateau.
It took us having a pregnancy scare for me to really see how unprepared he was for us moving forward.
"...but you've made it explicitly clear that that's not what you want." I nearly choke on the sob threatening to break through.
We'd been through this too many times and rehashing it was the last thing I wanted. Changkyun blinked a few times as if he needed to gauge my demeanor before responding.
Then he looked away painfully, grimacing a bit as he rubbed at the back of his neck with a troubled sigh.
"I know...I'm just..not ready.." he mutters, his eyes now on the floor. His jaw tightened and shifted as he contemplated something and I remained in front of the bathroom sink patiently.
The silence between us was deafening and the longer I gazed at him and his conflicted state, the stronger my urge to cry became.
I love this man.
So much that it hurts to even say it.
Changkyun lifts his head suddenly at the sound of me sniffling and I curse myself for letting a tear escape.
I turn my back to wipe it away with a shaky huff.
"I know. And I'm not waiting for you to be. I can't. I'm just done." I shake my head, avoiding the searing look in his eyes I knew he was giving me.
I sniffle again, scanning his bathroom for the tiny waste bin to discard the charcoal-streaked paper towel and Changkyun stands unmoved in the doorway as I brush past him.
Before I'm clear of him, I feel his hand gripping me by the wrist.
I pause, anticipating the inevitable. Another condescending remark to get a rise out of me, provoking me to engage in more back and forth. Feeding his selfish need to drain me until I was as empty as he felt.
But to my surprise, he says nothing.
At his silence, I turn to find him staring at our now intertwined fingers sadly.
His brow creased painfully and the muscles in his jaw tensed as he bit back the urge to cry, the urge that glistened in his hooded eyes.
"You can't be angry at me for not wanting what you want when you want it," he repeats and I roll my eyes, pulling my hand from his with little effort. He doesn't try to stop me from withdrawing despite us moving like magnets. He drags behind me to the living room mindlessly.
"I'm not doing this...." I mutter as I scan the room as if I'd forgotten something.
"You're here, so you are. We..are doing this." He grits, his tone making me turn on my heel to face him with the full intention to cuss and give him exactly what he wanted.
But the way he glares into me with broken eyes and his sullen shoulders, I'm rendered silent.
"We could have worked this out but instead you did what you always do when shit gets tough. Run away.." he closes the distance between us tentatively, his voice shaking as he spoke.
I shake my head at the conviction in his voice, knowing we were at an impasse.
"Right.." I chuckle before wiping my eyes one more time. I lift them to match his glare intensely.
"And you go and do what you always do when you can't take accountability for shit. Go and find solace at the bottom of a liquor bottle until you're painting the floor with it."
I know the words a daggers to him when he narrows his eyes.
"And you're such a saint." Changkyun tuts his brow arrogantly at me.
Yes. There was a time when getting black-out drunk and high was considered a good time. And those horrible habits were the reason Changkyun and I bonded. Mutual interests evolved as did our relationship and loving him made being under the influence less necessary.
"Well, it's a good thing we ended things right? Since we're so different..." I shrug and Changkyun scoffs, looking away with his tongue sticking through the skin of his cheek. When he looks back, it's with a look that always used to make my core tighten.
"I didn't end shit." he insists, narrowing his eyes at him darkly.
"I know."
"Exactly. So stop acting like I wronged you in all of this. Stop acting like I'm the one who broke your heart, Mira."
The tears were flowing freely by now and I neither had the will or strength to resist them anymore. Eyes rimmed red and shining, I let out a laugh that morphs into a muffled sob.
"I had to. Don't you understand? For the sake of my sanity, I had to walk away because I was not going to sit back and watch you destroy yourself. To watch us destroy each other. I loved you too much to continue this. I tried but I just couldn't. I had to be done."
"What if I'm not?"
"Kyun..."
"I don't wanna be done."
He stares at me blankly for a moment, his eyes reading the way I avoided his with a melancholy smirk.
Suddenly Im inhaling the malted mix of cognac and mint as he grabbed me at the back of my neck, pulling me forward so that he could rest his forehead against mine.
His eyes bore into mine, dark as obsidian and just as hard. The tip of his nose brushes mine and he tilts his head so his words are painted against my lips in an exalted exhale.
"And neither do you.." he mouths, our parted lips sharing a desperate breath for a moment before one of us gives in.
And it's him.
It's always him.
The darkness in his eyes was sinful when he pulled away and I'm ashamed to have been the one chasing his lips a little when he did.
His presence was more intoxicating than any liquor I ever consumed.
The way neon lights from beyond the window blinked against the side of his face, highlighting his chiseled features as he walked me back until I was pressed flat against the wall of his living room.
"Kyunnie?" I stammer as he pressed against me, pinning me to the concrete grey-painted wall, kneading my nape as he tipped his head back just enough to see my face.
His eyes danced with mine for a moment, both of us hesitating and searching for something in the other.
"You hate me, don't you?" He asks.
"I never said that..." I attempt to respond but he shakes his head.
"You never had to..." he cuts me off, his eyes falling to my lips. Without a shred of hesitation, he leans in and kisses me again.
Harder.
More fervently.
Hennessy and desperation lingered on his tongue but he didn't kiss me as if on a drunken impulse. He kissed me as if his life depended on it. Sloppy and frantic. Our teeth clashed at moments as our tongues fought and our voices melded into a melody of muffled moans.
What the hell was happening...
A few minutes ago I was ready to walk away from this part of my life. Ready to end this chapter and close the door on the man who knew better but wouldn't do or be better.
Toxic wasn't even the word.
His mouth parts from mine and he trails sloppy desperate pecks down from my lips to my neck.
My weakness.
The moment his lips grazed my skin, chills ran over my entire body, and Changkyun wasted no time in taking my flesh between his teeth. His hard body felt hot against mine and I wasn't sure if it was his heartbeat I felt through my clothes or my own. But what I did know was that I needed him.
In more than just a physical sense.
I needed him all over me.
On top of me.
Inside me.
His tongue swipes over the series of love bites he placed on my skin and I moan his name needingly. I feel him smile against me and chuckle softly before sucking a mark over my pulse.
He knew he had me the moment he sunk his teeth into my skin. Im putty in his hands and anything he desired was his as long as he was willing to fulfill mine.
Seconds later, we're falling back against his couch with me straddling his waist and him ripping my clothes off. It was not long before Im naked and gazing down at the length of Changkyun's dick standing up in his grasp.
He bites his lip, dragging his hooded gaze up my body as if he'd never seen it before.
Or as if he believed he'd never see it again.
He squeezed my hip with his other hand, encouraging me to grind my hips against him a few times before rising to my knees.
Wordlessly, he guides me down to sink into me slowly. A slow hiss blows between his teeth before his jaw goes slack and my eyes flutter shut in ecstasy at the slight sting.
It felt like forever since I'd had him inside me but it couldn't have been long enough for me to forget how he stretched me. I moan shamelessly with my head thrown back, my waist already whining against him and Changkyun reaches up to tangle his fingers with the hair at my nape.
He pulls me forward, forcing me to look at him as he buries himself as deep as I'll allow him.
"Fuck me baby...fuck me like you fucking hate me.." Changkyun demands, the growl in his deep raspy voice driving me wild with emotion and lust.
I obey immediately, placing my hands on the back of the couch for better support. I slowly roll my hips back and forth to find my rhythm, using my lower body strength to bounce on him. Every movement pushes him deeper and I soon lose myself completely in how good he felt.
Like he was made for me.
My moans soon drowned out the sound of our skin slapping together, the wetness and stimulation pushing me closer to climax.
It never took long for Changkyun to make me cum. He knew my body that well and at times I resented it. He was arrogant with the power he held and it's shown in the amusement written all over his face right now.
His brow is perked and his eyes are fixed on my face, relishing in the painfully pleasured expression of my impending orgasm as he bucked his hips to drive himself exactly where I needed him.
When my legs begin to shake, he smiles and fucks into me faster until a rush of release spurts out and around his dick. My warmth and wetness surrounded him like a waterfall, and he fought against the current effortlessly as I cried out.
"Oh my god.." I drawl out and Changkyun silences anything else I might have said by pulling me in by the neck to kiss him sloppily.
He hugs me against him, holding me in place as his hips continue to roll upwards and stroking me slowly as we kiss.
"I changed my mind..." I mutter against his lips and he hums questioningly.
"I do hate you..." I finish, his only response being a cruel chuckle that makes my walls clench around him.
"Fuck, Mira..." he whispers, taking my bottom lip between his teeth. I pull back slowly, allowing the flesh to stretch before he releases it with reluctance.
I attempt to untangle myself from him but his embrace only tightens with resistance.
Before I can question him, Changkyun grunts as he stands with his arms hooked beneath my legs. My eyes widen in surprise to find his hardened gaze fixated on where were still connected, biting his lip and bouncing my body against his dick.
This angle was even more torturous as it not forced him deeper, but the constant feel of me pounding against him had my clit throbbing from the friction. Not to mention the fact that he held me up and fucked me like this for a while, reminding me of how strong he was physically.
I almost feel like I can't breathe and my voice is hoarse from moaning. I most likely came again. Or a few times. I wouldn't be able to tell. I can barely see since tears still blurred my vision from before and I had no choice but to be at the mercy of my ex and his determination to prove a point.
Though, I had no idea or care of what it was.
"You hate me? Hmm...you hate me?" He grunted in time with his hard strokes, still holding me up in his arms.
I mumble his name endlessly and amidst a string of breathy moans.
I do hate him.
Hate him for ruining all men for me after this.
Hate him for always fucking me..making love to me..like his life depended on it.
Hate him for branding himself on my damaged soul so that every time I closed my eyes, my heart projected his face against the blank walls of my mind.
Hate him for giving me no choice other than to love him.
Fuck, I love him.
Changkyun pauses to step briskly with me still in his hold, nudging his already open bedroom door away for us to enter.
A chill ran over my skin as he stepped deeper into his room. The scent of his cologne and bed sheets trigger memories I fought to forget and I gasp when the softness of his them grace my back.
He doesn't waste another second.
He spreads me wide, keen eyes on where his dick still split me and a thick stream of saliva drips from his tongue and onto the point where we met.
As if it was needed.
I just think he got harder at the idea of stuffing me with as much of his DNA as he could.
And I hate to admit how hot it was.
"Kyun.." I sigh and his eyes snap up to my begging eyes as he sinks into me.
His hips rock my body higher on the mattress and his solid arms cage me against his chest as he fucked me.
Slowly.
Purposefully.
It wasn't hurried and frantic like before.
He curled into me and stroked my warm velvety walls with a gentleness I'd missed from him.
He savored me.
On his lips. On his tongue. In my sex.
Changkyun made love to me like a man stroking against a current, fighting his way to shore.
He fucked me as if it pained him not to.
I felt his lips kissing the shell of my ear as he whispered my name.
Over and over.
I can tell he's unraveling and that the moment is limited.
I held him against me, my nails scraping over his back as he rocked into me faster and harder, making me gasp.
I needed him.
Maybe not beyond this moment or these four walls.
But I needed him now in any way I could.
He'd barely pulled out in time before he spurts himself all over the face of my pussy, hiccuping my name against my throat as he came.
He strokes himself slowly, squeezing the final few drops of cum over my pink folds before pressing his dick back inside of me.
He's still rock hard and my slicked walls welcome him in with zero resistance.
I brace my hands against his hard biceps as he sank deeper inside of me to the hilt, the tip of him pressing as far as it would go. He flexes his hips and pushes himself impossibly deep.
So deep that I can feel our pulses throbbing between us.
So deep that it was as if he was yearning to touch a part of me that he never felt. A part of me that would be our saving grace and keep the withering connection between us alive.
But all I felt was pain.
Sweet.
Somber.
Sobering.
Pain.
"Changkyun...." I whimper beneath him and he eases back an inch with a heavy sigh as he lays his full weight over me.
He rests his face in the crook of my neck and I feel his warm touch caressing my face. His thumb swipes over the apple of my cheek, sweeping over the trail of tears that still flowed from my eyes.
For a while we just lay there, leveling our labored breaths and staring into the sepia tone of his darkened apartment bedroom. I feel myself drifting asleep until the deep vibrations of Changkyun's tired voice pull me back up.
"Hmm?" I rasp and he sniffs and swallows the hard lump of emotion in his throat, hugging our naked bodies tighter together.
"I don't blame you...for hating me." He says shakily, sniffling again. If it weren't for his grip on me and my fatigue, I would have pushed him away just enough for me to see his face.
I furrow my brow and contemplate what I could say to him in response. Just to ease the pain in his voice a touch because I did love him that much.
But...
"I hate me too..." he adds on, squeezing me again.
Changkyun turns his face so that that his nose brushes against my nape and his shuddering breath against my skin makes me shiver.
He cries there for a moment and the weakened tone of his light sobs pull me down into the abyss with him. I say nothing though. Knowing anything I could say would either sound patronizing or enabling.
Or a like a lie.
And I just couldn't do it anymore.
But God Dammit if it didn't hurt.
"I'm sorry." He whipsers after his silence sets a pause in his tears. The words sound painful for him to say and for some reason, my heart ached.
This changed nothing. He was still who he was and so was I. As much as we loved each other, it would never be enough.
"Me too. " Is all I can manage to say and I tangle my fingers in the sweat-damp hair at his nape, stroking his scalp with my fingertips soothingly as we both lay motionless.
Still connected in the only way we could be.
🥵
#monsta x smut#changkyun#changkyun smut#jooheon#wonho#hyungwon#minhyuk#kihyun#hyunwoo#shownu#monsta x#monsta x fanfic#monsta x imagines#monsta x changkyun
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
part 33 of 35 | masterpost
word count: 2597 | ao3 link | fic's playlist
I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.
✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, romance
✦ a/n: Hi, everyone! I posted this chapter a little later than usual because I was too busy today, but it's here! Sorry for the delay. Also, some of you may have already seen this, but: I missed writing about Dave and Nore happy together a lot these last few days, so I posted a small extra chapter set somewhere between chapters 16 and 17 for all my Dave and Nore enjoyers 🖤 You can read it here. Hope you liked reading, feedback is welcome!
✧ you don't have to leave, you could just stay here, with me / forget all the party police, we could find comfort in debauchery ✧
“I should've been there with you,” James's voice, annoyed and concerned, crackled through the phone pressed to my ear. “You shouldn't have dealt with this on your own. I should've been right there beside you.”
“James, it's alright,” I mumbled, sparking a cigarette, propping myself against the payphone stand. It was late afternoon, and I’d dialed James to tell him all about my disastrous mission in Los Angeles. If I wasn't in tears at the moment, it was only because I'd already exhausted my supply in the hours before.
“Of course, it's not okay!” he burst out, matching my frustration. “Did you check with the neighbors? Wasn't there some dude you knew living downstairs?”
“Yeah, Ellefson. He bailed too. Apparently, they moved out together last week. Left no trace for anyone to follow,” I finished the sentence with a tremor in my voice, eyes burning with fresh tears, but I wasn't going to break down now. Not while James was on the line, his concern clear in every word he spoke.
“Fuck. What a mess,” he muttered. “Hey, it's gonna be alright. I think I've got his mom's address; I can try reaching out to her. We'll find him, Nore.”
“Thanks, James,” I said, feeling a bit better knowing that even if the day had turned to crap, he still had my back.
“I'm sorry about all this Pat shit. Had no clue she'd pull a stunt like that.”
“It's fine…”
“No, Nore, it's not. You know, you said the right thing to her. I never want to see that girl again. But I can hop over to Los Angeles if it means making her apologize to you,” he declared, his voice carrying a slightly menacing edge that hinted he might have wanted to go beyond a simple apology.
“James, you really don't have to do that. It'd be just playing into her drama,” I let out a heavy sigh. “All I want is to find Dave and sort this mess out once and for all.”
“We'll track him down, Nore. I promise. Everything's gonna be fine,” James tried to assure me, and I managed a small smile. There was something kinda sweet about how he was going all out to cheer me up, genuinely putting in the effort to help me out, just because it'd make me happy.
James was just impossible not to like.
“I know, Jamie,” I replied, letting the warmth of my smile show in my voice. “Thank you.”
The rest of February breezed by quickly; I suddenly realized that the one-year anniversary of my move to San Francisco had quietly passed. It seemed pretty wild how everything that had unfolded in the last few months had managed to cram into a year, shaping me in more ways than I could express. It was like I'd been a part of the boys’ life forever, like I couldn’t quite picture who I was without them in the frame.
March rolled in, bringing the end of winter closer and closer. As the days lit up and warmed, James and I kept our long-distance communication going. The phone calls from San Francisco to Long Beach, initially a bit spaced out, soon became almost a daily ritual, and I found myself eagerly anticipating those moments in an entirely new way. Sweet words of affection began to find their way into our conversations more frequently. I had to admit, I missed James more than I'd care to confess — not just the tour moments but also his touch, the sound of his voice and laughter, the blue in his eyes, and even the warmth of his kisses and the feel of his body against mine.
Being back at my parents' house had its perks: with no job on my plate and studies yet to kick in, I found myself drowning in free time. I dedicated most of it to diving into my studies and building up a solid portfolio in visual arts, gearing up for the application grind at the San Francisco Art Institute. The prospect of being in the same city as Cliff and the guys again had me stoked, but in a genuinely good way — I could barely contain my excitement for things to click into place.
Another thing gobbling up my time was my newfound camaraderie with Charlotte, one of my old high school friends. She’d been pouring her heart into her debut starring role in a theatre play, and I'd been chipping in as an unofficial production assistant, giving me a reason to hang out with her and break free from my parents’ house for a bit. On a bright Wednesday morning, the moment I stepped into the auditorium where the theater troupe was fine-tuning their craft, Charlotte threw me a curveball with an unexpected ask.
“Nore!” she squealed with excitement upon spotting me, rushing over and grabbing my hands in hers. Her green eyes looked almost teary, and her lips formed a small pout. “Thank goodness you're here. Everything's going haywire today, and I'm not sure if we can sort it out!”
“What’s going on, Charlie?” I inquired, intrigued, as I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto one of the chairs in the vacant audience area. “Did the dressing room light decide to bail on us again? You know I'm useless with those things.”
“Of course not!” she retorted, indignant, and I released a low chuckle.
“Just pulling your leg. What's up?”
“I need you to act in the play.”
I blinked, puzzled, furrowing my brow as I crossed my arms.
“You... Hold on, what? Charlie, the play is in two weeks.”
“I know!” she sighed, slumping into one of the chairs, defeated. “Why do you think I'm so desperate? One of the actresses can't perform anymore. And now the director wants to cancel the play because we won't be able to find a replacement on time!”
“And you want me to step in.”
“Yeah!”
“In a play that's premiering in fifteen days?”
“Nore, you've always been fantastic in our school's Drama Club…”
“No way, Charlie! How am I supposed to pull that off?”
“Nore, please, please, please?” she clasped my hand in hers, her eyes pleading. “It's my first lead role, I've been rehearsing for months! I promise to help you with the lines, I'll do anything!”
I sighed, resigned.
“Fine. But you owe me one,” I replied, and she let out an excited squeal before hugging me.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret it, I promise!”
Well, she was right — I didn't regret it. Actually, practicing for the play turned out to be a lot more fun than I thought. Plus, scoring some free tickets to hand out to my friends and family made me care a bit less about the crazy deadline to cram all those lines into my brain. Charlie and I basically lived in that auditorium for the next few days; I'd roll in there in the morning and wouldn't bail until way into the evening.
When Saturday rolled around, I decided to escape to San Francisco. Stuff for the band was picking up speed after those European shows. After snagging a deal to record the second album at a studio in Denmark, the guys figured a bash was in order to toast to the good news, and obviously, I had to be there. I arranged with my parents to spend the weekend over at Cliff's place with the boys. Luckily, they had some San Francisco business on the horizon, and agreed to drop by and give me a ride back to Long Beach when it was time to head back home.
I let out a sigh as I hit the old house where I used to live with Cliff, Dave, James, and Lars. It was like nothing had changed, memories still stuck in every nook and cranny; the first chats with the guys, James getting less shy as we got tighter, my first kiss with Dave, the first time we slept together, drinking together, smoking together, laughing together, loving together. And it stung, a sharp and dry ache deep in my chest, with the gut feeling that things would never, ever be the same again.
I mixed with the crowd, strolling into the living room; the first familiar face I bumped into was James', whose eyes lit up seeing me, a grin breaking out. He hustled over, grabbing my face and planting a surprise kiss on my lips, leaving me gasping, my face heating up in a flash.
“James!” I blurted out, pupils dilated in shock as I took a step back.
“My bad. Was that a no-go?” he mumbled, a persistent grin suggesting he had no regrets about the kiss. “Just damn happy you showed up.”
“I’m happy to be here too,” I whispered, my face still warm from his gentle touch.
“Geez, you two are such a clingy couple,” Cliff chimed in, coming over. I blushed, pulling James's hands off my face and avoiding eye contact.
“We're not a couple, Cliff,” I muttered, voice low, his comment knotting something strange and uncomfortable in my chest. “Excuse me, I need a drink,” I spun around, heading for the kitchen.
“Nore, hold up,” Cliff tagged along, standing by my side as I raided the fridge for a beer. “What was that just now?”
“Nothing,” I grunted, popping the kitchen door open and stepping into the backyard. Cliff sighed but joined me, leaning against the porch railing.
“Nothing? Seriously? You're not gonna start keeping secrets from me now, after 19 years?” he came closer, tilting his head to be right in my line of sight, impossible to ignore. I sighed, rolling my eyes at his persistence. “Hey. You and James weren't, like, a thing or something?”
“It's not like that,” I grumbled. “It's just... There's just too much going on, Cliff...”
I told him everything then: how James and I had decided to give in to our feelings during the tour, how I’d tried to find Dave after coming back, how everything went wrong, and now I had no clue where he was. And maybe involving James in all this was a mistake because, frankly, with each passing day, I found myself liking him more while still stuck on my feelings for Dave.
“Well, that sucks,” he remarked after I spilled my story, prompting a nervous little laugh from me. “So, you do like James, then?”
“Of course I like him,” I replied, with a resigned sigh.
“You like him, and yet you were upset because he kissed you just now?” he pressed on, and I rolled my eyes.
“Cliff, it's not that simple…”
"No, I get it ain't," he said, sparking up a joint, taking a slow drag before locking eyes with me, dead serious. "I get you still love Dave. I get you're on this quest to find him, and I'm betting it's gonna happen, Nore. You and him, you'll cross paths again 'cause I know you're head over heels for the guy. I'm pretty damn sure you two will work things out. But..." He hesitated, and I shot him a puzzled look. Cliff usually had his words lined up tight. It wasn’t like him to be unsure about anything.
"But?" I prodded, curious. He let out a sigh.
"But things are changing at warp speed for us, Nore," He handed over the joint, and I grabbed it, taking a slow drag. "We're growing up, for crying out loud. I mean, we're about to cut an album in Europe, can you believe that? A year ago, who would've thought? Things are moving quick, do you really wanna skip the chance to catch some happiness along the way? You don't know when you'll stumble upon Dave. No idea how long it'll take to straighten things out with him. Are you gonna keep dodging happiness till then?"
"Cliff, what are you getting at?"
"What I'm getting at, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine, what I mean is maybe you should quit fighting what you feel for James. I mean, you liked him before, but let's be real, you rolled back from Europe completely in love with him, didn't you?"
In love. Those words set my face on fire, my heart doing a marathon, and a zillion butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach. My first instinct was to argue with Cliff, but deep down, he wasn't totally off, was he? If I already had a soft spot for James before, now it was more like a full-blown obsession. It felt like a hunger, like I needed him to fill some kind of void inside of me. And somehow, this crazy feeling coexisted with the love I held for Dave, for the empty space he’d left behind. Everything was so damn new that I could barely wrap my head around it, let alone figure out how to handle it.
"I'm not in love with him," I mumbled weakly, and Cliff chuckled, giving me a shoulder hug.
"You're a lousy liar, you know that?" he said, and I rolled my eyes.
"Hey," a familiar voice called, and I glanced up, blushing when I locked eyes with James, propped against the door frame with a beer in hand. "Nore, everything cool?"
"I'm gonna find Lea," Cliff announced, sidestepping and shooting me a suggestive look before leaving me solo with James. I watched him saunter away, feeling my face heat up, and then turned my attention to James, his blue eyes zeroed in on mine.
"You alright? Sorry about that kiss earlier. Didn't mean to upset you," he said, his voice low, stepping close enough for me to sense the heat of his body. His attentive eyes studied my face, as if trying to decode my feelings from my expression. I sighed, my heart racing in a totally new rhythm when he gently cupped my face, resting my hands on his chest as he leaned in.
"James," I murmured, my voice shaking, almost like I was saying his name for the first time. He gave me a slight smile, his gaze zeroing in on my slightly parted lips with poorly disguised desire.
"What?"
"I don't want you thinking I'm here with you just 'cause I haven't tracked down Dave yet."
"I'd never think that," he whispered, edging even closer.
I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.
"James," I murmured again, almost like a prayer, and the way I said his name seemed to light up something hungry in him. He yanked me closer, his mouth crashing onto mine with a deep, needy moan. I sighed, trembling, my fingers tangling in his hair as I surrendered to his kiss, the dawning realization that I couldn't resist him any longer.
Actually, that I didn't want to.
He backed off, peppering soft kisses on my lips before resting his forehead against mine. His hands clung to my waist, tugging me close enough for our bodies to touch.
"I think we should head to my room," he murmured, flashing a smile. I chuckled softly, throwing my arms around his neck, and pulled him into another kiss.
✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9
#ada writes fanfiction#heartbreaker fanfic#metallica#megadeth#james hetfield#dave mustaine#cliff burton#lars ulrich#metallica fanfiction#dave mustaine x oc#dave mustaine fanfiction#nore burton (oc)#james hetfield x oc#metallica x reader#megadeth x reader#james hetfield x reader#dave mustaine x reader#metallica smut#megadeth smut#james hetfield smut#dave mustaine smut#cliff burton x reader#megadeth fanfiction#david ellefson#kirk hammett#megadeth x you#metallica x you#dave mustaine x you#james hetfield x you
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hiii <3 this was another request! hope i did it justice and i hope everyone is having a lovely day hehe :)
ethan landry x reader
JUST LISTEN TO ME
Everything happened so fast. One minute, you were chilling on the couch with Anika, waiting for your boyfriend to come pick you up, then out of no where Ghostface was chasing you through the apartment.
And now?
Now, you were staring down at the alley from Quinn’s bedroom, as your friends screamed and begged for you to hurry across the shaky ladder. You were terrified. Almost ready to just give up and let Ghostface kill you. But you couldn’t do that to Ethan. You couldn’t just give up on him.
“Anika? Hey- as soon as I get across, you have to start moving. Okay?” The frightened girl only cries out more. “Fuck!” You yell out as you start crawling. Tears stream down your face and you try to focus on Sam, who’s hand is stretched out ready to grab you. “C’mon sweetheart, you’re almost there.” You hear Danny call out. And just when you think you can’t do it anymore, you feel the warm hands of Sam and Mindy. You fall into the arms of Mindy, who’s only half relieved, as Anika still hasn’t made it across.
“Anika! Move your ass now!” You scream out at your friend. The scared look on her face breaking your heart. She finally makes it on to the ladder, almost falling off a few times. And then Ghostface finally makes it in the room, slowly creeping up behind Anika.
You all watch in horror as Anika makes it halfway, only for Ghostface to stab their knife into the windowsill and start shaking the ladder. And then Anika slips. You watch with teary eyes as she hits the dumpster and then falls on the wet ground.
Your first thought was to call Ethan. Mindy had other thoughts, “I get you wanna hop all over your boyfriend for comfort, but NEVER! Never trust the love interest Y/N/N! Come on, you’re smarter than this.”
“Excuse me, but he was my boyfriend before we even met you guys.” You give her an incredulous look, snatching your phone back from her hands. “I trust him way more than I trust any of you.” And just when she was about to respond, Mindy was cut off by a loud smack, and when you look over you see the familiar brown curly locks you’ve been longing to see all night, and then there’s Chad. Chad who has your sweet angel pinned against a van, accusing him of the attack on everyone last night.
“Hey! Get off of him, now!” You yell as you march over to the two boys. Pushing Chad away, you look at Ethan who’s slightly out of breath, and he looks down at you. “Baby?” His voice is quiet, and his hands tremble as he reaches up to cup your face. “Please tell me you’re okay.” You bite your lip, tears pooling at your lash line. “Can we go somewhere else? Just the two of us?”
Ethan immediately pulls you into his chest, holding the back of your head gently. “Of course, angel. Let me grab your bag, okay?”
You walk back to Ethan’s dorm in a comfortable silence. His arm held a firm grip around your waist the whole time, scared you might slip away. As soon as you walk in the door, you feel the exhaustion hit you. All the adrenaline you had disappearing at once. “Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll grab some of my clothes for you to wear.” You let out a small ‘mhm’ in reply, and Ethan leaves a small kiss on your forehead before going to grab the clothes.
After you’re done showering, you find Ethan at his desk looking to be lost in thought. Until he catches you out the corner of his eye. “Hey sweet girl. You feeling any better?” He holds his arms out, gesturing for you to take place in his lap.
That’s when the dam breaks. All the emotions you had been trying to keep at bay, came rushing out.
“I’m so scared Ethan!” And he wishes more than anything he could tell you how there’s no need to be scared. How he’s ghostface and he would never hurt you. But he can’t. And It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. You’re probably the only person he truly does trust. He’s just so scared of what his family might do.
“Hey, look at me. I won’t let anything happen to you, as long as I can help it.”
“But what about you! Ethan, who’s gonna protect you! You’re the only good thing left in this stupid world. I don’t care about anything else, just you. And if something happens to you, I can’t-I won’t-“ Your breathing begins to become labored, and tears are streaming down your cheeks. Ethan- Ethan’s heart breaks at the sight of you like this. He hates that he can’t fix it. He hates his stupid family for starting this mess. He hates the core fucking four, for befriending you.
“Baby, you need to breath. We don’t want you to have an attack. Just look at me and listen, okay?” Ethan’s hands cup your cheeks, then go down to rub your shoulders, before landing on the small of your back. “I promise, nothing is going to happen to me.- Hey, look at me.” He guides your face back to his, before wiping away the fallen tears on your cheeks.
“Nothings gonna happen to me, you know why?”
“Why?” Your voice was small, almost childlike to Ethan.
“Because, as long as you’re alive, I have something to live for. I just have to think of you, and remember I have someone back home waiting for me. Waiting with open arms, and a heart full of love. All for me. Who wouldn’t want to fight for that?” A small smile graces your lips, as you play with the collar of Ethan’s shirt.
You think over your next words carefully. “I just wish we never met them. Is that terrible of me to say?” You look up and meet Ethan’s eyes, “I think you could wish death upon them all, and I would still think you’re an angel.” That elicits a string of giggles from you. And you can’t help but to wrap your arms around Ethan’s neck, and place your head on his shoulder.
You let out a relaxed sigh, feeling more at peace with Ethan’s warm embrace and comforting scent. “I love you so much.” You mumble out, sleep calling out your name. “I love you more, my sweet girl.” Ethan’s arms tighten around you as he feels your body relax into his. “I promise, nothings gonna happen to us. Soon, things will go back to the way they were.”
You didn’t know what he meant by that, but boy would you find out soon enough.
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From this list, #40 “I’m gonna carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about needing sleep” with Ari? 😊 Thank you!
Have a good day! 💛
Personally I LOVE a bossy Ari. Thank you babes!
You just booked the last guest and the smile on your face forced as you assured them that all accommodations would be met for them first thing in the morning.
Another thing to add to your to-do list since everyone else was occupied with other chores for the guests.
"Right this way," Max said kindly, stepping in to take them away from the desk and you sighed in relief as your arms folded on the solid wood check-in desk, letting your head fall into the crook of it.
"Just a few more days Y/N."
"Why are you lying to yourself?" A deep familiar voice chuckled warmly near you, large warm hands coming to your shoulders to massage them. You groaned in response at the tight pressure Ari put on them, it hurt so bad that it felt good.
"That's how I handle shit, Mr.Thomas." You straightened, looking over your shoulder at warm blue eyes and a tanned face that was now mostly hidden by a shaggy beard and flop of long hair curling around his face. It was a face you very much welcomed seeing. "Lie to get through the day."
"Hmm, efficient." He stepped around you, pulling himself up on the counter and straddling it while he started to pull off some numbers on the board. "I need a 69."
"Yeah, I'm sure you do." You giggled as you pulled out the basket under the desk, searching for his request.
"I'm probably not the only one who would benefit from it." He winked back as he took the numbers, hanging them in place. You were about to reply with another playful remark when a yawn overtook you, making your face scrunch up while you felt your body revolting against you. "But I do think a good night's sleep would be better," Ari said with some concern.
"I'm fine." You muttered, rubbing at your eyes to get them focusing again.
"Y/N, if you are burned out, this place stops functioning. I have been way too fucking hard on you, pushing you day and night." Ari said with some concern, his features softening as he seemed to really study you, picking up how tired you were.
"Ari, I'm fine." You tossed your arms out to show him how okay you were. "I signed up for this, ALL OF THIS." You pointed out, clearly expressing that you were okay with working with Ari during the day and being the voracious man's lover at night. Hell, you couldn't even figure out when Ari slept himself. Usually, he could only calm down after he had you on the brink of passing out. But you wouldn't change it.
Ari studied you for a moment, pulling out a cigarette from behind his ear and lighting it, his eyes narrowing at you as you continued to defy him. "“I’m gonna carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about needing sleep."
"Don't threaten me with a good time." You smirked at him while gathering up some papers that needed to be filed, for being a fake hotel, you kept up all the appearances, even keeping files. "I will be in the back taking care of the paperwork."
You got two steps when a strong set of arms circled your waist and rolled you onto his shoulder, the papers flying all over the place while you hung half over his back. "ARI!"
"Hush, it's Guy." He reminded you, a tap to your ass making you wriggle. "Your day is over."
"Guy, you left a mess at my front desk, put me down."
"Oh no Sweetheart, I promised you a good time. I always deliver." He marched across the sand towards the last rooms of the hotel, where it was all quiet away from the guests. When he set you down, it was on a bed...
His bed and he loomed over you, pushing you back with him crowding in your space, pressing smoke-warmed lips to yours. "Your cute ass better be ready to get in these sheets in five minutes, don't make me tell you twice."
You glared up at him, but a grin curled on your lips as you let your fingers drift through his long hair. "Yes, Sir Mr.Thomas."
"Oh in here I always go by Ari... although if you scream out God, I will take credit for that too." He winked before pulling away. "I will get your papers put away while you get ready Baby."
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ohmygod you have GOT to write a drabble about the norrix shirtgate of march 2024 ™️ please
Oh ho ho something like this? Last night Taylor wrote some dialogue that popped into my head (as I have been doing lately), and this afternoon Taylor fleshed it out a bit.
This is more in line with a reaction to the shirt + the Instagram photo, but still, same idea and same crazy.
Lando’s just finishing toweling his hair when his phone starts ringing. It’s nine in the morning— probably Max calling to see where he is and if he can have another fifteen minutes on their scheduled meet-up time.
The caller ID isn’t Max though. It’s Martin, a selfie of the two of them from Australia smiling up at Lando from where his phone is sitting on the bathroom counter. Lando quickly counts back the ten-hour time difference and is surprised Martin’s even still awake after the long day he’s had.
Beggars can’t be choosers though. Lando slides his finger across the answer button and presses the speakerphone before Martin has a chance to say anything. “Hello?”
Lando directs his attention back to his reflection in the mirror and sets about sorting out the tangled mop on top of his head.
“Are you trying to get me to out myself?” Martin asks point-blank, sounding semi-serious. Given the hour, he could also just be tired.
Lando’s fingers pause in his hair, and he glances back down at the phone as if it holds all the answers. “In what way?” It clicks in the few seconds between Lando finishing his question and Martin speaking again. He could easily correct himself but finds he wants to hear Martin admit to whatever embarrassing reaction he had to Lando’s post.
“Those pictures? In the shirt you stole from me? You did that on purpose.”
Lando can’t help the self-satisfied and questioning hum that makes it past his lips. Because Martin's right, almost. He didn't originally set out with the intention to take the photos wearing that shirt, but Lando woke up missing Martin a little harder in his jet-lagged state than he was prepared to. So, he shrugged on the shirt he’d stolen on the tail end of their France trip even though everyone would inevitably trace the origin of it. (Lando had caught Max trying to pretend he wasn’t looking at first, but rather than put him out of his misery, Lando let him stew.)
And then they'd stumbled across the new art that hadn't been in the graffiti alley last year. Max had looked at him knowingly, suggestively, this time not hiding what he was trying to infer, and Lando had taken the bait.
Only later, as he was looking through the photos, up early again because of jet lag, did Lando decide fuck it.
He and Martin talked about their plans for the year while they were in Vietnam, zipped inside their tent for the night and alone with their thoughts. They're not hiding anymore per se, themselves or their relationship. Lando’s finished with not just posting whatever the hell he wants because of what it’ll eventually look like.
Hide in plain sight, Martin agreed.
Now Martin groans somewhat dramatically. “Menno had to take my phone. My fingers were hovering over the keyboard for too long and he caught me.”
“They were not.” Because there’s no way. If Lando didn’t know better, he’d think Martin was reacting to the more blatant thirst traps in his .mov post.
“Lando, baby, have you seen the photos? And you didn't warn me. What do you expect me to do when you’re sitting there looking comfortable and proud like that?”
Just the implication makes Lando's face warm and his chest ache. It’s at least another month before they see each other in China, and the days feel exponentially long looking at a calendar. “I expect you to be a normal human who doesn’t feel like risking it all over an aesthetic picture. At least wait until I post another thirst trap,” Lando muses. He turns to prop his hip up against the counter and picks up the phone to bring it closer to his face to pull up Instagram.
Most of the comments are normal, taking the aesthetic at face value. A few people play into the tone of the bubblegum pink hearts. A few more seem to have the nerve to call him on what he’s trying to do.
“Post a thirst trap and see what happens.”
The smile that spreads across Lando’s face hurts his cheeks. “Maybe that’s in tomorrow’s dump. Guess you’re gonna have to go to bed to find out.”
A huff of laughter from Martin’s side of the phone might as well be music to Lando’s ears. “Fine, you freak. You can tell me about everything when I’m not about to fall asleep. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Can’t wait. Talk to you later.” The line goes quiet, much to Lando’s disappointment. He swears he could talk to Martin forever and not get bored— about everything and nothing at all. When Martin calls him at the end of his day, rested and recovered, Lando’s sure he’ll hear all about how the half marathon went. He’ll be on the brink of passing out himself, but he won’t care. He’ll lay there listening and counting down the days until next time.
#don't ask me why i just like writing their phone conversations but i have approximately 5 (including this) snippets of just convos#I think the idea is to maybe do something with them eventually but here's this one for now#norrix#writing tag#lando#martin
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Hi!
Could you write a x reader for Wilbur, where the reader is dating wilbur but they live long distance? But on Christmas eve the reader shows up to his house to surprise him? Sorry if that dosnet make sense!
It’s most definitely still Christmas time! Woo! (I’m so late)
Pairing: Cc!Wilbur x Gn!Reader
Simple Surprises
You trudge through the snow, trying your best to move quickly but not fall on your ass. Why did Wilbur have to live next to the iciest sidewalk in the whole world? All you wanted to do was surprise your boyfriend, not put your life on the line.
Really, your mistake was not taking the Uber all the way to his flat. But it was Christmas eve, meaning even these roads were packed. You thought it'd be easier if you walked, but apparently not.
The snow was pretty, though. Glistening white, perfectly pristine. It came just in time for a white Christmas.
Carefully triple-checking the address, you finally reach the building Wilbur lives in. Assuming the address isn't wrong, and he didn't move within the last few days. God, why were you so nervous?
Although your relationship with Wilbur was long-distance, you often planned to meet up. When he had asked if you wanted to come over for Christmas with him, you had made some bullshit excuse about not being able to. All so you could turn the tables on him and surprise him.
Now that you're actually here though, you can't help but think this was a bad idea. What if he wasn't even at home? What if he had made different plans for Christmas?
No, you had literally talked to him earlier and he told you he wasn't doing anything. In fact, he planned to watch Captain America at Tommy's request! You told him you were going out with friends to cover your tracks, and he didn't doubt a word.
Marching up to his door, so familiar for something you've only really seen a few times, you hesitate. Not out of anxiety or irrational fear, but excitement. Spending Christmas with Wilbur would be a blast, and you can't wait to see his reaction to you being here.
With that in mind, you knock thrice and wait.
"Hang on!" You hear his voice from somewhere inside, and you smile to yourself.
Something crashes inside, startling you, but the door is flung open to reveal a wide-eyed Wilbur. If you had to wager a guess, he just ran across his flat.
"Sorry, I-" He cuts himself off, gaping at you.
"Nothing to be sorry about. Actually, I think I might've gotten the wrong door?"
"Like hell you did."
He tugs you into him, crashing his lips against yours. You laugh into the kiss, looping your arms around his neck. It's so nice to be here with him, feeling a solid body instead of having to stare at a video call.
"You told me you were busy." Wilbur accuses you once he stops kissing you. He doesn't let you go further than an arm's length though.
"I might've lied, but it was for the greater good. I wanted to surprise you!"
"I'm fucking surprised. I love you. How long are you here for?"
"Just a week." It was the longest you could get away from home, and you're already wishing it was more.
"A week's better than nothing." He assures you, "And I know exactly what to do first!"
"Oh yeah?"
You let him tug you to his couch, reveling in how large his smile is. You've missed this. Hell, you've missed him.
His Tv is paused on a movie, and he doesn't hesitate to pull you down onto the couch with him. Within seconds he's gone full octopus mode, pressing your bodies together to maximize physical contact.
"Cuddling?" You ask, thankful you slipped off your shoes at the door.
You're already melting, muscles relaxing. He's warm, a stark contrast to the winds and snow outside.
"You're here for Christmas, right?" He asks quietly, not yet resuming the movie.
"Of course."
"Good. I almost bought a train ticket to see you, plans be damned."
"Wil!"
"But I'm glad you're here."
"Me too."
He keeps staring at you with the same dopey expression on his face, and you stare back for a few seconds before laughing.
"Are you going to resume the movie?" You ask.
"What?"
"The movie."
"Oh, yeah, yeah. Just admiring you first."
He presses another kiss to your lips before clicking play.
This is exactly where you're meant to be.
#wilbur x you#wilbur soot imagine#wilbur soot x you#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur soot#dsmp#dsmp imagine#mcyt#mcyt imagine#mcyt wilbur#wilbur mcyt#wilbur dream smp
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