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justkending · 7 months ago

Text

It's just a papercut... (Drabble)

Summary: Mission one-on-one with Bucky? It's been done before. So why is this one different? Why is he acting weird and not letting me storm off in a rage at his cold shoulder? Also, was the one bed necessary?

Pairing: Grumpy Bucky x Avenger Reader (Enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 7000+ (It's a long one...)

A/N: I've been spending a lot of my time on Character ChatGPT AI, and a secret agent conversation made me say, " Yeah, I need to put this into a Bucky fanfic." So here we are🥰 Did it turn a lot more emotional than I planned? Yes. Do I regret it? No. Enjoy, my loves!!

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"Jesus! The goal is to survive the mission! And from the likes of it, bullets aren't even going to be the thing that finishes the job!" I shout over the whipping wind as Bucky maneuvers through cars in the foreign country while outrunning the guards we just escaped from on a motorcycle he stole in front of a shop.

"Shut it!" he shouts back, taking another sharp turn that has me clutching on as if one wrong blow of the wind will have me ending this chase with a case of road rash on my entire body. "I'm losing them."

"And likely me with them," I grumble, and he shoots me a quick look in the rearview mirror, showing that he heard my remark and didn't care for it.

I look behind us and see one of the jackasses we were running from has joined us in motorcycle theft, and I curse under my breath as I come up with a plan.

"Goon, five o'clock!" I announce as I dig into my boot for a small handgun I keep hidden.

Bucky looks around and clocks him. His teeth grit together as he kicks the speed up, weaves through a few cars, and turns down a new street, but the man following seems to be just as skilled in bike chases.

"Still on you!" I shout and let out an annoyed groan, realizing that at some point in our mission, I'd lost my backup weapon.

"I see that!" Bucky groans, and as we pass a fruit stand on the street, he knocks it over with his metal hand, causing a traffic stop and the motorcyclist to have to drive over apples and pears, making him lose his balance some.

However, it wasn't effective enough. "I got it," I sigh as Bucky takes another sharp turn, and I clutch onto him. "Do me a favor and try and stay straight for longer than 3 seconds!" I complain, and he complies, although begrudgingly.

I point my fist towards the bike, and as the man makes mean eyes at me, I wiggle my fingers at him with a grin before shooting a taser shock out of the widow bite Nat gifted me.

They shoot across and cause his entire bike to seize at the overload of electricity. He flies off the bike as it stutters and gives Bucky and me a clean escape down an alley.

A few alleys later and a quiet spot away from the chaos that had just ensued, Bucky and I hop off the bike and hide it behind a dumpster. I catch my breath as I throw my backpack over my shoulder and watch as he covers the bike more with the lid of the trash before grabbing his own pack.

"We need to lay low for the night," I note, adjusting my backpack and looking into the dead-end alley.

He sighed, taking in the area, and I could see the pistons firing in his head. "There's a hotel not far from here that'll work. Not shitty, but also not anything fancy." He immediately starts stalking away, not waiting for me to follow.

I huff in annoyance as he leaves me, and I fasten my backpack, buckling it across my chest before jogging to catch up with his long strides.

We don't say much as we get to the hotel- both of our minds coming down from the adrenaline and running through the last pieces of the mission.

While in the lobby of the hotel, I get a call and move to take it, seeing it's Steve checking in, and I leave Bucky to handle the check-in process.

"Got it. We'll head to the airport in the morning," I nod and turn around to see Bucky confirming something with the clerk, and I turn back to the phone.

When he finishes checking in (fake IDs with real payment thanks to Stark's ways), he turns and waves his hand toward the elevator in a quick hand gesture.

"Yeah. We're fine," I note, feeling a stitch in my side but not wanting to check just how bad the damage is until I'm behind a closed door. "He's being a dick as per usual," I chuckle lightly as I start my walk to the elevators. "No, Steve. I don't need you to call him and reprimand him. You know-... Seriously, Steve. Leave it... I said it as a joke more than anything-" He cuts me off again, ready to always put Bucky in his place with the cold shoulder he seems to love to give to only me.

When I make it to the elevator, where Bucky is holding the door impatiently for me, I quickly say, "Losing you! Getting in an elevator so I can't-" There's a protest on the other end. "What was that? It's cutting out." I say in stuttered beats to play it off before hanging up. "Steve says hi," I say to Bucky as I lock my phone and shove it in my back pocket.

"Sure," he says back, and I'm not sure if it's unconvinced or unbothered... or both. Either way, his face is still stoic.

"You really need to lighten up," I sigh in a deep breath, annoyed that he never relents his tough guy act around me.

"Don't feel like."

"Do you ever?"

The elevator is silent. The only sound is the mechanics of the metal box moving up. It eventually dings, and as I go to step forward, I grimace slightly so as I step wrong, causing pain to go up my side, but I quickly brush it off.

"What was that?" Bucky says behind me as he steps off the elevator last.

"What was what?" I ask, looking carefully at the room numbers and acting ignorant.

"That look. You flinched."

"Yeah, no," I shake my head. "Your eyesight must be getting worse with age."

"My eyesight is fine," he grumbles, pulling my arm back as I pass the room, realizing he never told me the number. "We're here," he turns to the door and presses the key card to it. The color changes from red to green, giving us access.

"I call the shower first," I shout, shoving him out of the way and unbuckling my backpack as I rush into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it.

All I hear is an exasperated sigh on the other side and a shuffle of footsteps as he shuts the door, locks up, and moves into the room.

I let out a sigh of exhaustion and relief to be done for the day and move to warm up the water. If there is one thing I've learned about going on missions with Bucky, it's that the man's superhearing is just an excuse for him to be nosy. He listens to almost EVERYTHING.

So, with the water running and him hopefully distracted by the hotel views, I undress and focus on the shower. As soon as I took my shirt off, I was shown exactly what I worried was the problem.

Down my side is a semi-jagged cut going up my rib cage. Close to four inches long, if not less, but angry and red. I hiss and quickly bite my lip to muffle my pain. It's not bleeding anymore, which tells me it's not deep, so with the proper cleaning and care, it'll be fine in a few days. I use my time in the shower to clean it and wash the rest of the day away with it.

When I come out, I rummage through my bag for a first aid kit. I usually pack a travel-size one, given the job, but I can't find it. I change into a pair of clean shorts and a tank top I packed (light and takes up minimal space) before checking in the mirror to make sure my cut wasn't prominent through the light-colored tank. When I feel comfortable enough that Bucky won't ask questions, I straighten and fight the soreness that's taking over my body now that I'm not going 100mph.

I walk out, and when I see that Bucky is lying back, arms over his eyes on a king-size bed, I immediately take in the fact that it's the only bed in the room. The sound of cheers from baseball on the TV is quickly tuned out.

"Um," I start, hands out as I assess the space. "What's this?" I ask.

"A bed," Bucky answers simply and sits up tiredly as he looks at me, leaning back on his forearms. "You ran straight into the bathroom before I could tell you, or you saw for yourself."

I cross my arms and flinch when I graze my cut but quickly roll my shoulders as if the full-body soreness was the only issue.

"Well, did they not give us another option or maybe a second room we could have-"

"What was that?" he cuts me off.

"Hm, what was what? What do you mean-?" I look right at him and furrow my eyebrows, hands on my hips.

"You made that face again."

I roll my eyes. "I'm sore," I shrug, scoffing and even I know I'm a horrible actress right now, so I don't make eye contact.

"That's not a sore grimace. That's something else," he sits up straight now and tilts his head down, assessing me in almost a predatory way.

"Stop that." My arms move from my hips to my chest and around me, and my discomfort only makes a smirk appear. "Stop. It's weird."

"No, what's weird is why you're being so weird," he remarks with a sassy face.

I blink at him a few times, feeling much less intimidated thanks to his comeback. "Good one," I said, turning and going to his backpack now.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He stands quickly from the bed and looks at me over my shoulder as I unzip his bag.

"I think I put something of mine in here. I can't find it in my bag," I note, dunking my hand into his things. He steps up, pulling my shoulders to get away.

"Stop going through my stuff. You're worse than Sam," he notes, tugging me away, although gentler than how he is typically.

"I just need-" I feel the small plastic box I'm looking for and tug it out, quickly holding it behind my back. "Nevermind. I found it."

"What are you talking about-"

"Nothing! Just give me one minute. I need to brush my teeth," I jab a thumb behind my shoulder as I walk backward to the bathroom, his steps matching mine. "I'll be out in five minutes," I note quickly as I turn on my heel and run back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it again.

Instead of seeing the door handle budge like I expected, he bangs a fist on the wooden barrier.

"Y/N, open the damn door! What the hell did you take out of my bag?"

"My toothbrush!" I lie. Why didn't I say toothpaste? That would make so much more sense... "I must have gotten our bags mixed up when I packed them." I cringe at myself.

"How could you do that? Yours is brown, and mine's black," he notes.

"A very dark brown," I argue, lifting my tank top and sitting on the bathroom counter to get a better look in the mirror of my cut. "Just give me a second-"

"You're being weirder than normal," he groans in frustration on the other side.

"Yeah, well, get used to it," I hiss as I put the sanitizer spray on it and bite my knuckle to suppress the pained groan I want to let out. "Jesus," I mumble under my breath, but the next thing I know, the door is swinging open, and Bucky's staring at its handle that's hanging on by a thread before back at me. "Hey!" I look at the door and back at him. "They're going to charge us for that."

His eyes immediately go from annoyed and over it to concerned and confused.

"What the hell is that?" He points at my stomach, where I'm frozen on top of the counter, shirt lifted, showing my entire torso and cut on full display.

"A paper cut." Dear God. What the hell happened to my logical excuses?

His concerned face drops some, and he deadpans from my injury to my eyes before marching to me and turning me at my shoulders to face him and get a better view.

"When did this happen?"

"Wild guess, but likely when the guards we fought to get out pulled a knife on me and played dirty," I sigh, realizing I wasn't talking myself out of this one anytime soon. "But that could be a stretch," I add.

He again looks up at me from my injury with an incredulous and agitated look.

"Let me see," he sighs, bending down to get a better view and looking at the injury from a head-on angle.

"It's just a scratch, Barnes. I'll be good as new after a little disinfectant and ointment. Nothing a bandaid can't fix," I brush off, turning on the counter to grab the kit.

He stops me in my turn by placing a hand on my knee and turning me back around to where my legs hang off the counter. I'm sitting with him in between my legs.

"They used a serrated knife," he notes, taking the first aid kit out of my hand and opening it, instantly getting to work as if I wasn't doing it myself two seconds ago.

"Um, excuse me, but I can-"

"I know the things you can do, Y/N. You don't have to tell me," he says sternly, grabbing gauze and another bottle of something I didn't know the contents of and tipping it onto the gauze before bending down again. This time, his eyes found mine as he looked up at me from his now crouched position. "This is going to sting. That sanitizer you were using before is shit. This one actually does the job," he notes, and I'm a little stunned by the turn of events. "Ready?"

Never in my life did I think Bucky Barnes would be this gentle and considerate with me, but I'm not going to stop a good thing from happening.

"I don't think it can hurt more than the knife itself," I smirk and nod when he gives me a look. "Yeah, yeah. Do your thing, Doc." I gesture to him, looking up at the ceiling as I prepare for the sting.

I don't feel it instantly, and just as I'm about to ask what was taking him so long, the cool liquid hits my cut, and I hiss, grabbing his wrist in a tight hold out of instinct to hold him back. "Jesus H. Christ," I grit through my teeth. "What the hell kind of acid did you just put in-?" I let out a slow breath through my lips and quietly say, "I'd pick the knife again. I'd pick the knife again. The knife for sure."

"It's Banner-strength disinfectant," he says with a stupid little prideful smirk, yet is dabbing the cut ever so gently as I hold his wrist. His touch is soft, but the sting is anything but. "You grabbed my first aid kit. I had him make it since you tend to get hurt easily, and we're not in the cleanest country." He's fully concentrated on my cut.

"What?" I asked, surprised, grabbing the kit's container and seeing that it indeed was not mine. I brush over the fact he had Bruce specifically make it and pack it for me as I look over at my bag, still slumped against the wall from my rush to take a shower, and realize I must have forgotten mine.

"Relax. Tensing doesn't help," he adds, bringing his free hand to my thigh and giving a light squeeze to distract me. I hiss again as he pads over an agitated area.

All sense of humor drops slowly from his face, and he gives me a look. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me about this as soon as you knew? This was not far from being infected in a way that could have been a lot worse than just an irritating sting."

"When was I supposed to tell you?" I sass, throwing my head back on the mirror as I focus on anything but the sharp stings. "As soon as we got off the bike, we headed here. You didn't say a word to me, and I was in my own head. Honestly, I didn't even realize it was there until we were checking in and I was on the phone with Steve. Adrenaline must have kept me from realizing it."

He mumbles something under his breath, and I hear the word, reckless in the middle of it.

"Watch yourself," I warn, kicking my leg a touch, skimming his rib cage. "There can easily be two injured people in this room."

"No need for both of us to get stupid injuries," he grumbles.

I scoff and shove his hand away from me, jumping off the counter as he stands and glares at me.

"Sorry for getting stabbed," I sneer up at him, stepping into his space. "I'll make sure to ask the assholes shooting and swinging at me next time to keep the knives at home. Oh! Or better yet," I exaggerate. "I'll tell them my partner said I'm not allowed to get into fights with men triple my size, so if they can just play gentle so I don't end up with any battle scars, that would be greatly appreciated." I smile wide and fake before dropping it and brushing by him to the bedroom.

I catch the tail end of his eyes rolling before I hear him stomping behind me.

"I need to finish patching you up. If it's not done properly, you can get sick." He comes up behind me, but I stop abruptly, and he runs into my back before holding my shoulders to steady himself. I turn to him, not breaking the space.

"I know how injuries work, Barnes. This isn't my first time in the field, although I'm sure you believe otherwise," I scoff in anger. "Just," I put my hands up, stepping away in frustration and groaning. "I'm going to get some air," I try and push past him to leave, but his hand wraps around my arm and holds me shoulder to shoulder by his side before I can get my feet past him.

"No. You're going to let me finish patching you up. Now..." he stares at me with his Sergeant's eyes. "Sit. Down." I struggle to fight my stubborn retort, but he sees it brewing and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

I groan in protest loudly and pull my arm out of my grip before moving to the edge of the bed and sulkingly wait for him to finish his job- that I didn't ask him to even start, by the way!

"Good girl," he mutters with a smartass smirk, and I take a breath in to yell something at him, but he goes back to the bathroom to grab the kit we left behind.

"Cyborg headed-ass, caveman, son of a bit-" I mumble, and he comes back in, shooting me a look that says, 'really?'. "Oh, sorry, did you hear that?" I say with fake regret.

He rolls his eyes and crouches again by my knees to get a better angle at the cut, and I lean back, my hands flat against the comforter as he works quietly, and I stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the warmth of his hands on my stomach when he's been nothing but cold to me.

As he's patting the tape over the piece of gauze he fashioned over my cut, I look at him calculatingly. He notices my gaze on him and awkwardly starts putting his things up, sneaking glances at my stare here and there.

"What?" he finally asks. "Stop staring at me."

Instead of an answer, I just stare harder and raise an eyebrow, tilting my head to the side as I analyze him deeper.

"Cut it out," he growls, standing and moving to put the kit on the counter. "You're creeping me out."

I let out a single laugh and shake my head before lowering my tank top and looking out the window. "You're so fucking confusing," I state, standing as I straighten my clothes.

"I'm confusing?" he asked rhetorically. "You're fucking confusing."

"Come up with your own lines," I throw an exasperated hand out, waving him off. "I'm getting air."

I don't know what provokes him, but he steps in front of me, his towering figure shadowing over me.

"No," he says, looking at me sternly.

"There wasn't a question mark at the end of that sentence, asshole," I sidestep him and move to the door. I manage to open it maybe a foot before it's slammed in my face, and I feel Bucky's chest pressed to my back. I look up, and his hand is splayed flat on the door.

"I said no," he says lowly. His voice is just over my shoulder, and I hold back the shiver that threatens to take over my body.

"And I said, fuck off," I say just as lowly, looking up at him, tilting my head back. "Move."

"We need to talk."

"And I need to put a good three blocks of this city between us so I don't add another person to the stabbed today club. I'd rather stay on Steve's good side." I jut my arm back to elbow him in the ribs, but he dodges it with a huff of an annoyed laugh.

"Real mature," he sasses, and I can see a touch of playfulness in his features, and that makes me even more furious.

"You're one to fucking talk!" I turn and shove him in the chest, and he relents, putting his hands up in the air as I shove repeatedly in vexation. Each shove and each curse I send his way has him taking one slight step back with a grin. "Stop smiling!" I grunt as I push him harder, and he laughs. He fucking laughs!

My eye twitches, and my hits become more forceful. Nothing close to what I'm capable of, but I'm not looking for a full-on brawl. I just want to smack him enough to wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

"Y/N," he says calmly in between hits to his rock-solid chest. A chest, I'm sure, will give me bruises if I keep this up.

"No! You don't get to talk!" I point at him after shoving him one more time and successfully making him falter a few steps back at the power behind it. "I'm walking out of this room to get some air, and you're going to stay right fucking there. Right there!" I point to the floor under his feet. "And not keep me from leaving this God damn suffocating room. Got it?"

I know my eyes are wild, and I know the emotions I'm feeling are written clear as day on my face because his sly smirk falters, and he takes a deep breath in, hands still up in surrender.

"I'm sorry," he mutters out as his gaze falls to his feet.

"What?" I ask, shocked and slightly out of breath from exerting myself.

"I'm sorry," he says a touch more clearly as he clears his throat and looks up, hands coming down and eyes avoiding mine.

I blink a few times and throw my hands up. "I can't do this." I let out a breath and turned back to the door.

"Y/N, please don't," he says, and I stop. I surprise myself, but I stop, turning back to him slowly.

"Why?" There's a long pause that follows my question, and I wonder whether Bucky even knows why he's asking this. "Genuinely Bucky... Why are you so insistent on me staying in this room right now?"

He runs a nervous hand over his beard and shifts his weight to one foot as he throws one hand up in a single wave.

"I don't need you getting hurt again," he states, still avoiding eye contact.

My eyebrows narrow in confusion, and I cross my arms, popping my hip to the side as I stare at him. "We're in a hotel. Not a battlefield."

"It's better we stay in here than wander around. The guys who were after us are likely still hunting us, and it's best we don't show our faces in public spaces," he notes.

Ok, that's a logical reason, but something tells me this is a more emotional reason on his end. He's not sharing everything, though...

"Ok..." I drag out and look at the balcony. "Then I'll go out there."

I walk promptly to the balcony, surprisingly not being stopped by him as I brush past him and jiggle the door handle, finding it stuck. "Fucking hell," I grumble under my breath as I pull the handle and push it up and down to try and get it to work.

A hand comes behind me and takes the door handle for me. I stare at it, not turning to acknowledge how Bucky expertly pushes it just right for it to open.

"I had the same issue," he says, pulling his hand back and nodding his head to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower." He steps back, quiet and sinking back into his usual stand-offish behavior, but now with more nerves and awkwardness.

I give a grunt in acknowledgment and shut the balcony door behind me before sitting in a shitty lawn chair. I don't turn to see if he's still standing there watching me, but instead, I focus on the city view in front of me. It's not a well-off country, so the views aren't more than rundown buildings and vendors in the street shouting for people to buy their things over their neighbors, but it's fresh air away from the man that makes my blood boil.

Fifteen minutes later, I feel a little calmer. Although still annoyed, I'm more confused than anything. Why the hell was he acting so strange, and why do I feel like some kind of serious conversation was going to-

"Y/N?" I hear the door open with a creak and turn to see Bucky with wet hair, a change of clothes, and soft eyes focusing on the door that's obviously broken. "God, this place has gone down in quality," he notes, leaving the door cracked as he comes onto the balcony with me.

"Been here before?" I ask, turning back to the view ahead.

"Once like 8 years ago," he nods and moves to stand by the railing, his arms crossed over the edge of it, and his gaze now focused on the same place mine is. "Must have gotten new management."

It's silent for almost five minutes after that. No words, no looks, no sounds. Just silence outside of the city noise. I debate, standing and going back into the room if he's going to continue to go radio silent and not explain his strange behavior earlier, but just before I stand, he speaks up.

"I don't know why," he says, and a crease forms between my eyebrows. He continues to stare off into the city. I wait a few moments, and he continues. "I don't know why you stress me out more than the others."

Great. So that's how this is going to go.

I stand and silently move to go back into the room, but his hand clasps around my wrist.

"Please, just let me find the words," he asks, and I can hear the plea in his voice.

I look back and up at him and his eyes are in the puppy dog form I've seen only a select few times. Ones that have never been directed at me but have held no truer emotion than requisition.

"Ok..." I drag out, moving back to the lawn chair and sitting quietly as he drops my wrist almost hesitantly and leans against the railing, fidgeting with his hands. I've never seen him like this, so I give him the space.

He takes a deep breath through his nose and closes his eyes before just unloading everything.

"I don't like seeing you get hurt," he starts. "I mean, I don't like seeing any of my friends get hurt. It's no decent person's interest to watch friends and family get harmed, but it's like a nagging in my head. No," he shakes his head, trying to find the right words. "It's like having pins and needles surrounding your lungs, and every time you try and take a breath to come down from the terror- the pain of seeing them hurt- the needles poke and stab. Making it nearly impossible to take a deep breath and ground yourself. And that's only a part of the pain that comes with it."

I stare up at him. My eyes are likely wide as I take in what he's saying. He glances at me once before looking back at his hands.

"I know I'm an asshole to you. I know that," he says, cringing as if the truth behind it hurts him. "I don't know why. At least, I say that to make myself not think about it longer than I can probably handle, but I've talked to my therapist about it, and she says it's a protective technique my brain finds more plausible than just dealing with the confusing feelings I have towards you."

My eyes shift back and forth as if trying to understand the words.

"Feelings towards me?" I repeat. "Like annoyance?"

"No," he sighs, and then he chuckles a soft laugh under his breath. "Well, yes. Sometimes you can be annoying, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't find it endearing most of the time."

My eyebrows raise at that. Where the hell is all this coming from?

I shake my head in disbelief and lean back in my chair. "Barnes, you're giving me a bit of whiplash, and I'm not sure-"

"I like you."

My mouth is still open from where my sentence was going, and I blink once. Then twice. Then, a third time, as I tried to understand if I just heard him right. Because if he meant it as a friend, I'm shocked. But if he meant it otherwise... I'm hallucinating.

His eyes find mine, and this time, he doesn't look away. He keeps eye contact, and I can feel him trying to read me.

"I-Is there more to that sentence?" I ask, my brain trying to make sense of the situation and short-circuiting ultimately.

"Yes, but from the looks of it, you're still trying to translate those three words."

"Good observation," I nod, pursing my lips and sinking into my chair.

"I've been known to make them," he smiles a tight-lipped smile. I'm actually grateful for his quip at this moment.

"Bucky, you have to understand that those words don't make sense with how you treat me-"

"I know, and I'm sorry," he pushes off the railing and steps forward just in front of my chair. "God, I'm so sorry. I don't even know why it's taken me this long to apologize for the way I've acted this long, but for some reason... When we were fighting today, I saw a man get the jump on you. I was seconds from leaving my own fight and coming straight to you to handle it for you, but you quickly turned the situation around. It wasn't the first time I'd seen you in that scenario, yet something about it..." He pauses, looking up at the sky, throwing a hand through his hair. "It freaked me out. It freaked me out far more than it has in the past."

He looks at me in a sincere way and moves to sit in the busted up, rusted, and metal patio chair that looks like it very well could have been here when he came 8 years ago. It creaks as he turns it in and angles his body toward mine. His elbows rest on his knees, and he looks down at his hands again. And as he talks, I realize he's breaking it down not just for me but for himself—these emotions and sudden changes.

"Maybe it's because I knew if I didn't get to you, you were on your own. We didn't have a backup. I couldn't call Steve or Nat, or Wanda to come in and help where I couldn't. And then the actualization that if I couldn't get to you, if no one was there to back you up, there was a chance I'd end up regretting everything all because I can't seem to come to terms with my feelings." His eyes find mine again. "And then that cut," his eyes drag from mine down my torso to where my knife wound lays under my tank top. "It was like a final piece to knock some sense into my head."

He looks at me, and I can't explain it, but I want to hold him when he looks at me like that.

"Seeing you hurt reminded me... You're human. You aren't invincible even if you can take on three men triple your size attacking you at once. It's a skill I'm glad and impressed that you have, but it doesn't guarantee someone won't get the jump on you again, and I'm not sure I can handle that."

I stay in silence for a moment, taking in the information and processing it all. I must have been quiet for a while because a soft "Y/N?" makes me look up from where I've been staring blankly at the balcony.

"You ok?" he asks gently, carefully.

I nod and run a hand up and down my arm from a slight breeze blowing with the sun setting in the distance.

"Trying to..." I started, but I didn't know what words were meant to follow. "I'm a little shocked," I say, eventually looking at him.

"I can't say I blame you. It's a 180 from our normal conversations," he takes a deep breath and smiles softly at him. "Do you need a minute?"

I shake my head. "No..." Then I scrunch my nose. "Well, maybe."

"That's ok," he nods, sitting back in his chair, and it weakly groans in protest. He takes in the fact my legs are up to my chest now, and I've wrapped my arms around myself. "We should go inside. It'll get cold soon." He stands and motions for me to head in first, then offers a hand to help me stand up.

I look at it before taking it, standing, and walking in with my arms still around my middle. As soon as we're in, I turn and catch us both off guard by being chest-to-chest with him after he shuts the balcony door. I don't move, though, and neither does he.

"Since honesty seems to be the theme of the night," I look up at him. "I've always admired you..." His face softens at that. "But I'd be lying to both of us if I said how you treated me didn't affect that original feeling." He nods in understanding and slightly cringes to himself.

"I wouldn't hold it against you."

"Why did you- Why did you not like me at first?"

He shrugs a touch, but there's no uncertainty behind it. "I saw you as young and naive. I saw you as someone who seemed to make almost anyone love you, and all you had to do was exist around them. I think a broken part of me was envious and confused by that trait, and I used it as a reason to be hateful to you instead of taking advantage of the kindness you freely give and allowing myself the gift of that. I didn't think I deserved that." He sighs, his hands going into the pockets of his sweats. "I convinced myself that your kindness was nativity when I've learned quite quickly that you're anything but naive."

I sigh, nodding my head as I turn and move to sit on the edge of the bed. "You wouldn't be the first person to misinterpret my kindness. It's why I tend to fall into becoming a stubborn ass when people don't appreciate that kindness. Hence why I haven't been the perfect person in this relationship myself," I motion between us. "I should have recognized where you could have been coming from and continued to kill you with pleasantries, but you didn't seem to respond well to it."

"It wasn't your job to recognize that or fix it. It was mine to stop being a stubborn ass myself and talk to you rather than make assumptions," he shifts on his feet. "I thought I was self-preserving when I was actually self-sabotaging. Something I'm still working on recognizing."

"It's a process," I sigh, knowing the steps well enough myself. I consider the conversation and take a deep breath, relaxing in my spot as I come to my conclusion. "Bucky?" He looks at me, hopeful and attentive. "I forgive you."

I watch as his body stiffens at the declaration before slowly relaxing.

"I don't expect you to just be fine with everything I've done the last-"

"Many years?" I chuckle, lighting the mood. "Yeah, but why would I want to waste any more time when I get it? I get your reasoning, and I can't say I blame you."

"But you should blame me," he moves to sit on the comforter next to me, our knees brushing.

I shrug, turning to face him better. "But I don't." He starts to talk, and I cover his mouth with my hand. His icy blue eyes looked down at the motion before back at me. "I swear to God, Barnes. You take two steps forward, and it's like you feel guilty for making progress and regress." He flinches slightly at my words, and I feel I struck a nerve. "Sorry, I shouldn't-" I take my hand back.

"No, you're right. It's something I'm still working on. I mean, small things are easy to accept and move on, but this," he gestures to me. "A part of me doesn't believe I deserve your forgiveness after the caseload of shit I've given you, but-"

"But it's my forgiveness to give, so I'll decide if I want to give it..." I look at him as if waiting for him to connect the dots. He smiles and nods as he looks down at his hands. "You catching on?"

"I'm catching on," he looks up at him again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We look at each other for a little while, and the atmosphere is new. It's not tense. It's not awkward. It's not uncomfortable. It's like we've come to a point we've been actively avoiding for years, and it turned out to be a really nice point.

"So..." he starts, and I decide to break the seriousness of it all.

"Why is there only one bed, Bucky?" I ask with a look meant to lighten up the mood, turning and patting the comforter we're sitting on.

He looks at it with me and smiles with a laugh. "It wasn't intentional, if that's what you're asking."

"Feels a touch intentional. Not letting me leave the room or demanding I stay close kinda plays into the fact you'd be forced into sharing a bed with me. Another way to secure my proximity," I tease.

"Or..." he drags out, and his hand comes up, pushing a wayward hair behind my ear and casually taking his hand back. "The receptionist told me they didn't have any two-bedroom rooms available right now because there is a festival in town this weekend, and they're booked up."

"Seems legit, but not sure if I believe you," I grin a touch bashful and look around at the room as if I'm surveying it and not slightly melting at his touch.

"Believe me or not," he shrugs, standing and stretching. "Either way, we're sharing a bed tonight, sweetheart." He winks. He fucking winks at me and moves to the other side of the bed, getting his side ready for sleep.

This new side of him is not one I was ready for, but seeing it makes me think about what I haven't gotten to experience sooner. So I say that.

"I knew you were a lady's man back in the day, but I never thought I'd see the flirt you were rumored to be," I turn in my spot on the bed and look at him from the end of the bed.

"I don't flirt with everyone," he says, throwing the blanket back and adjusting the pillows.

"Well, yeah, obviously, but-"

"Just people I'm attracted to," he says, cutting me off with a telling grin. "And to women, I'd like to have flirt back."

My mouth drops, and I let out a laugh. A genuine laugh. "Was that a move? Did you just make a move on me?" I smile like a teenager at him, partially in disbelief and partially in interest.

"Did it work?" he chuckles, sitting on the edge and scooting into the bed but not fully getting in it.

I shake my head with a smile and laugh again. "Honestly, I have to say yes."

His smile widens at my confession, and he leans back on the headboard, two pillows propped behind him.

"So you're saying I have a chance if I keep it up?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, cowboy. It's not going to take just a flashy wink and a flirty comment to get my attention fully. I like to be sought after."

"Good to know."

"Is it?" I ask incredulously with a smirk as I move to my side of the bed and throw the covers back enough to sneak under them.

"Can't give away all my plans," he shakes his head, and I turn off my bedside lamp.

"Wouldn't want you to. I like being surprised," I lay down and nuzzled into my pillow before turning on my side and looking up at him. "Must say, your surprise tonight was a pretty good start."

"You think?"

"I think," I nod and debate on my next idea, but I decide what the hell? Who's it hurting? "Feel free to say no, but if we are sharing the same bed, I tend to be a cuddler unconsciously, so if we-"

"Yes," he says simply a large grin he doesn't seem to care to hide marks his handsome features. "Yes, please." He nods, moving under the blanket.

"That answer was a little too fast to believe that this hotel didn't have other beds."

"I don't know what you mean," he shimmies under the blanket, and I feel his leg brush mine.

"Listen, normally I wouldn't, but I learn I sleep best when I'm with another person, so-"

"You don't have to give me a reason, doll. I'm happy to lend the support." His arms are quickly wrapped around my middle and I'm turned to where my back is pressed against his front and I'm not going to lie... It's a perfect fit. "Night, Y/N."

"Night, Bucky." I smile putting my hands on his around my middle and laying back into him.

This was a good start to something possibly more...

Want to keep reading? (Part 2 of 2)

Marvel Tags:

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader insert #one bed trope #marvel fanifc #bucky barnes #reader insert #justkending #marvel #bucky barnes x avenger reader #enemies to lovers #bucky barnes x drabble #buckybarnes

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f1amour · 9 months ago

Text

「 ✦ F1 GRID — ANGST DRABBLES.

pairings include | max verstappen x assistant!reader, carlos sainz jr. x wolff!reader, charles leclerc x mexican!reader, lando norris x pr!manager!reader

authors note | if you have any requests for some drabbles send them my way! my inbox is always open <3

navigation | main masterlist (coming soon)

— MAX VERSTAPPEN ¹

unrequited love assistant!reader

Becoming an assistant to Max Verstappen was not your plan when you visited Monaco during winter break to celebrate completing your degree. It was a trip you’d been looking forward to all year long after all the long nights of studying and exam taking.

Bumping into Max and getting coffee with him to end up with a one in a lifetime job opportunity was not your plan. You had never imagined going on vacation and ending it with a job.

You also were not planning to fall in love with Max.

Spending two years loving him in the dark was the hardest time in your life. You kept those feelings because he was your boss and you were just his assistant.

But standing here now at the Dutch Grand Prix as Max takes second place you could see the disappointment in his eyes but also the exhaustion. You knew the pressure he has been putting on himself after not having won since June.

"I know it isn't first place but you did amazing out there give the circumstances of how shitty the car is. You made it work." You tell Max while you sit in the seat beside him on your jet.

A few of the drivers were going to join but Max needed space from everyone. You weren't sure why he asked you to stay, you could have given him space as well and booked a flight with everyone else.

A small part of you hoped maybe he needed you and nobody else.

"I just...I don't want to talk about that right now. I'm sorry." With a frown on his face, he traces circles on your thigh; a habit he had for awhile now when he felt upset or anxious.

It wasn't the right place or time to confess your feelings but would there ever be a right time? You figured this was your chance to say it before you fell into a deeper hole of keeping this in.

Maybe he will feel the same way. Maybe.

"Okay we won't talk about that...we can talk about something else? Something I have been wanting to tell you for awhile now."

You take a deep breath, "Okay we won't talk about that...we can talk about something else? Something I have been wanting to tell you for awhile now." Bracing yourself for the confession that is about to come.

Max knew just from the look in your eyes that what you wanted to say was something he had been trying to avoid. But now in the air with no where else to go he would have to hear you out.

"Please y/n don't. Don't say it." His pleas come out almost pathetically. He did not want to hear those three words come out of your mouth when he knows he won't say it back to you.

"I can't keep holding this in any longer than I have. Max, I love you--."

"You can't. No. Y/n please don-."

"I love you. I love you and I need you to hear that now I can't go another two years with you not knowing. I've tried to hide it, I've tried to push it away, but it's no use – I can't escape these feelings for you. From the moment I met you, there was something about you that just...captured me. Your smile, your laugh, your presence. It all took my breath away. I've tried to ignore this feeling, to push it down and forget about it, but it's always there, lurking in the back of my mind. I can't deny these feelings for you any longer."

Y/n's heart sinks into your stomach as the silence hangs heavily in the air after your confession. Max looks at you, and in the depth of his eyes, you see your fears confirmed. There is no glimmer of affection, no hint of reciprocated feelings. Just a cold, unspoken rejection.

You can sense that your words have not had the desired effect, and realization sets in: he does not feel the same.

Max breaks the silence, his voice soft and quiet, "I'm sorry. I don't feel the same way. I'm so sorry."

Feeling vulnerable and exposed at the moment she gives him a soft smile to conceal her tears, "t's okay. It was silly of me to think you would ever love me anyways. I just needed to say it before it consumed me more. I can move on now. I'm just going to do some work on my laptop back here." It was like a switch turned on inside you and you became cold.

Not letting the awkwardness of a now two hour flight ahead of you, you decided to bury yourself in work. Max was unaware of what you typed away on your computer was a letter of resignation something you sent right after separating ways at the airport.

You denied having a proper goodbye because you knew in the end you would have stayed. You love Max but you loved yourself enough to leave instead of hoping one day he would feel the same. Instead of trying everything you could do to get him to love you; you leave hoping you won't have to beg for your love to be reciprocated.

— CARLOS SAINZ JR. ⁵⁵

lovers to enemies wolff!reader

“Did you know?” Carlos questions you, entering the apartment slamming the door. His eyes filled with anger and a hint of sadness.

You smiled at him from the couch, “Hello to you too, grumpy. I don't know what you're talking about.” You say going back to your book.

“Y/n don't play dumb with me. I just got out of a meeting with the team, Lewis is taking my seat next year. You had to have known from your father. Why didn’t you tell me?” Carlos glares at you standing in front of you forcing to take your eyes off your book.

You sit him down next to you and continue, “Can you just try to remember that I’m his manager? We both signed nda's with Ferrari we couldn't tell anyone not even his family, Carlos please I really wanted to tell you but my job would be on the line i would have been fired and possibly sued if the news got out.” You grab his hands, begging him to look at you.

i couldn't tell you

“You…you’ve known all this time? And didn’t tell me?” His face flashes with hurt and you feel so much guilt being the reason he is feeling this way. You knew it was messed up not telling him but this was your job you had to be professional when it came to things like contracts. You hadn’t even told your Dad about it until Lewis was ready to confirm it to him,

“Lewis has been in talks with them for months but he and his agent handling it for that time because he knew how conflicting it would be for me knowing I would probably tell you. He didn’t tell me until a month ago when we had to go through his contract and what not. Baby, please I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t. But I promise all this will fix itself we have a plan!” You explain to him, the last sentence filled with hope and surprise for him but he’s too angry to see through that.

“Promise? You promises seem to have meant nothing as of now. You promised me a lot of things and have kept them but this one? Betraying me? You promised we would be truthful in our relationship turns out only I have been. I can't forgive this. I can’t forgive you.”

His next words hit you like a ton of bricks, “I’m done. Our relationship is done and I need you out of here by tonight. I’ll be back later tonight hopefully you’ll be gone by the time I am back.” He stands up grabbing his keys and you tug his hand back begging him to stay.

“Please please Carlos, I’m begging you you just listen to me. All this will make sense you just need to trust me, please? I love you and you love me—.”

“No. I don’t think I do anymore. Someone who loves me would have never done this to me. Have a great life.” He pushes your hand away and walks out not glancing back as you yell for him begging him to come back.

It took you a few hours to gather all your things taking a few breaks in between to stop yourself from crying but there was no use in that, if anyone saw your puffy read eyes they’d know immediately.

As you zip up your final suitcase you hear the door open and expecting to see Carlos coming into your bedroom you’re met with a blonde woman wrapped around him.

You clear your throat as they almost kiss in front of you and Carlos quickly turns to you not expecting you to still be here and his heart drops to his stomach, “What are you still doing here?” You scoff wiping your tears away, that’s all he had to say?

“Just finishing up. Charles said he will grab the rest of my bags tomorrow since I’m staying with him and Alexandra for now.” You tell him and grab your purse before taking the picture frame that was filled with collages of you and Carlos, taking it with you to the living room as Carlos follows after you.

You throw the picture frame into the trash can, “Why did you do that?” Carlos asks you.

You shrug pulling an envelope out of your purse, “Our relationship is done like you said. The decent thing you could have done is fucked someone at least 24 hours after we break up not three hours later. When you realize what you've lost you will fucking regret it all, Carlos. Have a good life.” You mimic his previous choose of words in your last sentence.

Shoving the envelope to his chest he watches you in confusion as to what it pertains, “Congrats.” You tell him walking out the door and out of his life not giving him a chance to ask anything.

It’s as if his heart felt you getting further and further away with every step his heart began to feel heavy. As he opens the envelope his heart stops seeing the words written in bold; CARLOS SAINZ JR. 2025 MERCEDES DRIVER CONTRACT & AGREEMENTS.

— CHARLES LECLERC ¹⁶

friends to lovers to strangers mexican!reader

FRIENDS.

Meeting Charles in 2019 at the Mexico City Grand Prix was one of your favorite moments you’ll ever have. Closing your world tour in your home country he and a few of the other drivers along with their girlfriends had gone to your closing night. You were a fan of the sport and more specifically a fan of the Ferrari driver.

Your team let you know he was out there which made you much more nervous but either way you killed it out there and made lots of eye contact with him. They go backstage per your request and you get along easily with everyone but it was Charles you connected with most.

Form then on you guys became an inseparable duo that the world shipped so much but you both always denied the dating rumors. Your friendship with Charles was purely platonic.

You both experienced each others best and worst moments personally but also career wise. Maybe that was one of the first things that made you both realize the platonic love you had might be a little more.

LOVERS.

You both had been in bed watching a movie one night when Charles finally made a move with a simple sweet kiss that turned to more later that night.

You were attached to each other even more now despite having busy schedules. You made it work and planned out your schedules to spend the most time you can together. It was perfect for the next three years and despite the small arguments you would have every now and then you guys always made up.

Charles was devoted to you. He would be exhausted from a race weekend but would get home excited to help you create new music. You’d be singing or on the guitar while he played the piano sharing ideas on what melody to use. He understood you so well. He knew every single thing about you even the smallest of details that you didn’t notice yourself.

You knew all his habits. The ones he had before and after racing. He’d go into a little mental bubble hours before a race trying his best to push himself to do his greatest. You knew he loved massages after a race so you’d always be waiting in his room to give him that. He adored the little notes you’d leave him in various spots where he could find them on different occasions while you are off touring.

Until one day, the loving touches and words of affirmation turned into bitter arguments and no loving touches at all.

“It’s over isn’t it?” You smiled at Charles as he holds onto you, he had been visiting for a few days during summer break but it was time to get back to work. You spent the days arguing a routine that you’ve both been getting used to now.

Questioning why he spent only a few days with you and spent most of the break with friends. He threw the argument back to why had you scheduled your tour dates around his break.

It had been the moment of realization for the two of you that you loved each other but you were no longer putting each other first. You didn’t act like lovers. You didn’t act like best friends. You acted more like strangers.

“I’m so sorry.” Charles apologizes, tears filling his eyes that match yours. You shake your head wiping his tears away and he mimics you, “I’m sorry. We both love each other but we stopped trying. We stopped taking care of each other…of our love.” You lean against his hands cupping your face.

This would be the last time you’d be in each others arms and you wanted to cherish it forever.

“I love you. I’ll always love you.” Charles chants, closing his eyes he says it repeatedly almost a if he were hoping to wake up from this nightmare.

“Te amo, Charles. Siempre.” Your lips meets his one last time savoring the moment for as long as you can until he is called over for his departing flight.

He walks away hoping maybe one day you could meet again and it would be a different story. Maybe your love story didn’t end here.

STRANGERS.

A year had passed and you’d been taking a much deserved break from singing. Enjoying life in Mexico exploring new spots and meeting new people. You made new friends but never forgot about the ones you made in the past.

The Mexico Grand Prix once again coming up this weekend and you had been invited by Red Bull Racing. An offer you didn’t decline wanting to support your fellow Mexican driver and friend Checo Perez but also to catch up with Max who you’d grown close to the last year.

Everyone in the paddock talked about your arrival and what was to be expected if you bumped into your former ex. You could care less what the media asked of you as you walked alongside Max and Kelly talking about your next album. As you walk your heart stops when you see Charles walking towards you with Carlos next to him eyeing the situation Kelly and Max doing the same with you.

But as you approach each other you simply stare straight ahead spying no attention to him and his teammate who give a quick wave to the couple next to you and continue walking past you.

No one else seemed to noticed your hand reaching for Charles as you walked by him, his hand reaching for yours as well. It felt like a force of habit. Maybe that’s why they reached for each other

But in the end they walked away as strangers.

Strangers with memories of each other.

— LANDO NORRIS ⁴

grumpy x sunshine pr!manager!reader

You weren’t sure why Lando had grown such a strong dislike from you since the moment you met. You were hired as his new PR manager for the 2022 season and you were the youngest member of the communications team but they didn’t underestimate you.

You proved yourself being Daniel Ricciardo’s PR manager for the 2022 season but after he left you were assigned to be Lando’s PR manager after his last one left the team.

Being in charge of Lando was…a mission.

It could have been easy if he didn’t treat you so terribly. He treated you as if you were a robot; pure work and no worry that his hurtful words affected you.

Despite the hurt he made you feel every day you spent together you still arrived to every race weekend with a smile. You played the part of the perfect PR manager despite the constant belittling of received from the McLaren driver.

But sooner or later that light would dim.

“She’s just aggravating. Always coming in with a smile and giving me advice on what I should do or say when I’m with the media.” Lando rants to Oscar as they sit in his drivers room waiting for interviews to begin.

“I mean…that’s technically her job.” Oscar defends you, he had grown close to you and your bubbly personality always lighting up a room. He wasn’t sure why Lando was so angry towards you.

Lando was fine with everyone else but you. He was a charming guy with a smile on his face but plenty did notice the scowl on his face that would cover his usual smile when he was around you.

He was cruel to you but for some fucked up reason you found yourself developing a crush on him. You weren’t sure why you liked him why every thought you had was about him. He was invading your mind and heart, even if he hated you.

You noticed the small things he enjoyed, like distressing with a good playlist after a race. He enjoyed finding new cameras to add to his collection. He wasn’t an avid drinker but did enjoy a vodka cran ever so often. He wouldn’t admit it but you could tell he was get homesick sometimes and wish his family were with him at every race.

So you made it your mission to FaceTime his family every weekend before and during a race. Whether he made it to the podium or not you’d hand your phone over to him so he can talk to his family. He had always assumed it was his family who asked you to do this gesture every race week but oh boy was he wrong.

You walk into the McLaren hospitality ready for the weekend with a plate of homemade cookies in your hand. You made sure to hand a cookie to everyone you said hello to until you arrived to the garage and saw Lando with his race engineer and Andrea beside them.

You approach them with a smile ready to offer them some cookies, “Hey guys, I made—.”

“Y/n can’t you see we’re busy right now? This is an actual job and we put time into it unlike yours you just tell me I need to smile and be fake, I got it. Let us be now.” Lando’s word spit out like venom intended to hurt you in every shape possible. His mind is telling him how fucked up that was but he was so stressed about his car that he didn’t realize it until it was too late and you had tears in your eyes.

“Right. Sorry.” You smile tearfully walking away quickly not having the chance to hear the two men next to Lando scolding him for treating you with such disrespect.

“Get that attitude fixed of yours against the girl, Lando. I’m not gonna deal with it any longer if you keep it up. She’s a great girl and has proven what a great job she does for this team and for you especially.”

Andrea’s words echo through his mind the entire race weekend and despite his cruel words towards you he noticed you still managed to put a smile on your face.

It was time to head out after scoring second place at the Chinese Grand Prix. Lando was looking around for you confused why you hadn’t been at the press conference and you had sent an intern instead.

He gets to his room hoping maybe you were in there and he was ready to apologize but found an empty room instead. A plate of cookies on his table and papers next to it, he approaches the table and looks at the small note on the plate of wrapped cookies, “asked your mom for her recipe since you said you missed her baking cookies for you. hope i do them justice <3”.

He felt guilt consume him realizing that your earlier gesture was made for him specifically and he had blown you off. His eyes look at the papers next to the plate and he sits on his chair in disbelief reading your letter of resignation papers. You quit on the spot and had already been long gone since the race began.

Good luck on the rest of your season, you’ll be a winner soon I’ll always believe in you.

He read the text over and over again that you had sent prior to leaving but he not seen it since he was racing. He spent the next week going back to the text and your note, you showed him so much kindness and all he ever was show you the opposite.

Arriving in Miami he didn’t realize how crucial your role was in guiding him with the media. The new PR manager wasn’t terrible but they weren’t like you. You still have him the liberty to be himself as he had the right to but this manager was useless.

The most unexpected part of this weekend was him finally winning his first ever Grand Prix in his career of being in Formula One. His heart beating with all the adrenaline running in his veins as he reaches his team celebrating with them.

But as he hugged everyone around him he looked around waiting for the one person he wanted to see and celebrate with; you.

It was all too late. He realized his feelings for you until you were gone and now here was begging to see you smiling face in the crowd.

Getting a small moment to himself he opened his phone and saw a text from you;

“Congrats. I knew this year would be yours. Keep on winning, future world champion.”

He didn’t deserve you not when his cruelty pushed you away and still somehow showed him the love he now wanted to give you.

#f1 amour works #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x mexican!reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble #lando norris one shot #lando norris drabble #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz drabble #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen drabble #f1 one shot #f1 drabble #f1 x reader

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captain-huggy-bear · 2 months ago

Note

Hi, an idea for a celly:

“Bring a damn charger next time, you scared the shit out of me” w/ Clayton?

P.S. love your writings! You always pop-off with them! 🫶🏼

Thank youu, hope you like it, lovely! So glad to write some Clay for this celly <3 We all know he'd be pissed out of concern if he can't contact you cause your phone dies, man is pulling his hair out but he also gets worried to the point of breaking I think. 1000 Followers Celly Currently ongoing 🥳🎉 Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

You don't expect to be in this position when you leave your house early in the morning for a long day in the next town over with your friends. You'd sent Clay a text in the morning to tell him you'd speak to him later in the day, both of you in the habit of texting throughout the day, sending updates when you were busy doing your own thing. You never just went radio silent, both of you like the reassurance that the other was okay.

What you hadn't realised was that your phone battery was almost out. You swore up and down that you'd put it on charge overnight like normal, but you must have not plugged it in properly because by 8am it was on 5% charge and naturally you didn't notice until it was too late.

Clay, on the other hand, had spent the entire day freaking out and worried because none of his calls were going through to you, no messages were being seen and he'd yet to get any of your friends' numbers for emergencies. He'd spent the day phoning hospitals in the area in case you were in an accident...suffice to say that when you finally got home at 11pm he was pissed off, breathing heavily as he tried to not take his worry out on you. He was worried sick, adrenaline on a high, buzzing with it under his skin in away he hadn't felt outside of a game.

“Bring a damn charger next time, you scared the shit out of me.” He doesn't raise his voice. Clay never yells, not even when he's pissed off, but his tone changes. It's sharp with worry, nostrils flaring as he breathes heavier. He's been running his hands through his hair, so obvious by the way it's out of place, not as tidy, not as pristine. Clay looks dishevelled, he looks like he's spent the day worrying.

"I'm sorry, I swear I put my phone on charge over night, it should have been at 100...I'm sorry, baby." You feel shitty...so guilty because he'd spent the day thinking you'd been hurt, phoning hospitals, unsure if you were okay or not, only for you to waltz through the door like nothing had happened.

You're reaching for him, arms wrapping around his waist, hands rubbing across his back in an attempt to ease some of his worry, to comfort him. You've rarely seen Clay this worked up and you hate that it's caused by you making a silly mistake, one you normally wouldn't have. You'd have been just as stressed in his shoes and likely less forgiving about it.

"I...I thought something had happened to you...I thought..." You know what he thought, the phone calls to the hospitals said enough...he thought you were hurt, that something bad had happened to you. It has you sliding your hands into his hair as he drops his forehead to your shoulder, "Shit, if something ever happened to you I don't know what I'd do, sweet girl."

Clayton Keller is not someone you would say was overly emotional...no Clayton had a tight grip on his emotions whether it was pain, frustration, worry, sadness...you could count on one hand the times you'd seen him lose that control. But you could already hear the tears starting to choke him up, could already feel the shake in his body, that control slipping more and more. It was almost terrifying in it's own way, to know that he was actually not unshakable.

"I'm okay, I'm good...and I promise from now on I'll keep a spare charger in my bag." Practical promises in an attempt to help put his mind at ease but he's shaking even harder like trying to calm him down just makes it worse.

"Clay..." You clutch him tighter like if you do you can make it easier, make it better, but he's coming down off an adrenaline spike that's been happening all day. The shakes aren't just the impending tears but the adrenaline wearing off, finally able to come back down now that you're here, now that you're safe.

"Fuck.." You feel the tears before you hear them, wet on your shoulder as he clutches you tighter, falling thick and fast as he gasps and sniffles against you. It's almost scary to see him break because you never really have. He's always the stable one, and maybe you haven't made enough room for him to break, maybe this should have come a hell of a lot sooner.

"I'm okay, you're okay...we're both, okay, Clay. I'm not going anywhere."

All you do is hold him. That's all you can do, even as his tears make your own spawn, you just hold him. You run your fingers through his hair, over his back, squeeze him as tight as you can and don't let go. You don't let go after 5 minutes or 10 or 40. You hold him until he's ready to pull back because you want to be someone he can break around, because you know he needs this, because this just tells you how much he cares about you.

There's no shame in his tears, just love.

#Huggy's 1000 celly #huggy bear writes #clayton keller x reader #clayton keller/reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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3ardnpc · 1 year ago

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i want to taste you better

TAGS: MDNI 18+, overstimulation, cunnilingus, dirty talk, DADDY'S HOME (no daddy kink, sorry) WC: 1k

A/N: the sequel to this drabble. ONCE AGAIN thank you to sleep token for writing sexy ass lyrics and giving me the best titles. I'm gonna make a whole series of smut drabbles based off sleep token lyrics fr

Your car was in the driveway, but the house was unusually dark when Simon opened the front door. You always preferred to keep the lights on whenever he was away—said it felt ‘less lonely’ when the house was lit up. He didn't mind paying a bit more when the electricity bill came in if it meant you could find some comfort while he was away.

He dropped his bags at the door, deciding to deal with them later. He had more important things to do like finally holding you in his arms after being gone for two months. It certainly wasn't the longest he had been away, but it didn't mean he was any less eager to come back to you.

Simon crept up the dark stairs, avoiding spots he knew would creak beneath his weight. At the end of the hall, there was light framing a closed bedroom door.

He briefly thought about what you could be doing in there. Innocent thoughts at first—it was late, you had work in the morning, so you'd be in bed and winding down. But, the low drawn out moan that slipped from the door told him otherwise.

Fuck, he missed that voice. It wasn't the same hearing you whimper and moan from some shitty, little burner phone.

Your heavy breaths could be heard just outside the door. He lingered for a moment, pressing his shoulder to the wall. Your cries were beginning to crescendo, the tell tale sign of your orgasm.

Who was he to deprive you of that? It would just make your pretty noises all the more sweeter when he fucks another orgasm out of you.

When you met your peak with a choked gasp, Simon turned the door and stepped in. The air was thick with your scent.

You yelped at the sudden intrusion, sitting up and grabbing the blanket to cover your naked body. When the shock cleared, you were able to get a better look at the man who entered your bedroom. “Si?”

He clicked his tongue and cocked his head. “Thinkin’ of me, love?”

You cast the blanket aside and moved to slip off the bed, no doubt to run and hug him, but he stepped forward. “Don't move,” he commanded. “Lay down on the bed.”

You did as he said, laying back on the bed as he approached, anticipation holding your breath. You stared up at him looming over you. His black face mask was still on, obscuring mouth. You could see the faint black smudges still around his eyes.

Simon wasted no time slipping between your legs. He laid his palms on your inner thighs and spread them open to fit himself.

“Couldn't wait ‘til I got home. Were you really that fuckin’ desperate?”

You tried opening your mouth to defend yourself, but one of his hands, warm and calloused, slid between your legs. His thumb parted your folds to get a proper view of your glistening cunt, arousal leaking out and soiling the sheets below.

“My dirty girl,” he sighed, rubbing his thumb over your dripping hole. You squirmed, and he held you down by the hip, fingers digging into your soft flesh. “Gotta clean you up now.”

Both of his hands slid up the curves of your body, making sure to caress the mounds of your breasts before one settled on your jaw. He leaned over, stabilizing himself with one arm, and paused just before your lips.

You brought a finger up to tease the edge of the fabric over his nose before trailing to the string looped around one end of his mask. You pulled it off to reveal your lover's face and his smirking lips.

“Missed you,” you mumbled, leaning up for a kiss.

Simon met it hungrily, sweeping his tongue along your lower lip to prod into your mouth. His kisses devoured you. He pulled away to trail his lips down your neck, sucking marks along the column of your throat, laying his claim to you once again.

He wanted you to remember this in the morning—the marks on your skin, the ache between your legs—and remember it was him that made you feel that way. It would only ever be him.

He moved down your chest, paying attention to the hardened tips of your breasts. He latched his mouth around one nipple while his hand kneaded the other breast.

You arched into his touch and gasped when his teeth grazed over your nipple. Your fingers ran through his hair, urging him lower, just where you really needed him.

“More,” you whined, rutting yourself against the leg wedged between your thighs. “Please, Si.”

His hands smoothed over the curve of your waist as he slipped down to meet your cunt. He pulled your legs wide and hooked them over his broad shoulders.

Simon didn't waste time delving into your dripping cunt. His fingers formed a ‘v’ around your opening and he slotted his lips between them, lapping up the arousal from your orgasm. He was starved, almost desperate to taste you again. He shut his eyes and lost himself in you.

Your cries and moans fell on deaf ears as he dragged his tongue through your folds and toyed with your clit. The orgasm you gave yourself left you sensitive to his eager ministrations. Each flick of his tongue over your clit had your legs locking around his head, tense but thruming with pleasure.

He pulled your legs back open when you squeezed too hard, gripping your soft flesh and continuing to devour you. When he pushed two fingers deep into your cunt, feeling the way your wet heat pulsated around his fingers, he groaned.

“Fuck, you're tight. Want you to come on my mouth, love. Come on—ride my face.”

With his fingers buried in you and his lips on your clit, Simon worked another orgasm out of you. Your back arched and you finished with his name on your lips. He removed his fingers and replaced them with his mouth, letting your ride out your orgasm on his tongue.

“Ngh, fuck,” you cried, when he refused to pull away. You looked down at him as your chest heaved. “I can't.”

You tried shifting yourself away, but his grip on your thighs was relentless. His tongue ran over your clit again and your body twitched.

“You can. One more, just one more for me.”

#simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #simon riley smut #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #ghost scenario

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vorfreudevortex · 3 months ago

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I Wish Things Could Be Different

levi ackerman x blind!reader anyways. here's a shitty drabble that's been consuming me since i had that dream the other night. wrote this in like 30 min so don't clown me if it's bad, idc it's self indulgent af cw: 1.5k words. angst af you can read more of these two losers here and here, along with my general masterlist

“I wish things could be different.”

Levi’s words make me hesitate for a moment. His low voice sounds more somber than usual. There’s hints of regret and… pain in it. I know he’s sitting across the creaky kitchen table from me, but he seems so far away right now. He came home late again tonight, I had come inside from the yard hours ago when I heard our neighbor light their lamp. His late arrivals have left me wondering and worrying, but nothing like what he just said.

What does he mean, ‘different’? What ‘things’? He must mean…

“You wish…” I swallow harshly. My voice comes out more shaky than I thought it would.

“No.”

I don’t really know what to say, so I don’t respond. He’s firm this time, I know he’s not lying. I know he’d never lie to me anyways, only avoid what he doesn’t want to say. I shift in my chair, the wood creaks under me. Everything in this house makes too much damn noise, much to his irritation. But, we both know it helps me get around, and Levi has never once tried to oil or sand a thing because of it. The earthy, flowery scent of Levi’s black tea fills the room as he pours it. Like usual, the lamp he placed behind him helps illuminate his shadow for me.

“I mean that I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” He continues. “It could be a while.”

“Where are you going?”

“Across the sea.”

I let out a shaky breath that I didn’t know I was holding. Levi had spoken about the sea before, just a little bit. They were hushed whispers in the quiet of the night when we both couldn’t sleep; his from overwhelming stress, and my mind telling me it’s not tired yet. He told me how blue the water was, how it stretched on endlessly beyond the horizon, its overwhelming salty taste and smell, and how the others splashed and played. Of course, Levi made me swear to keep my trap shut, and I always have and always will.

I’ve been sick with worry over Levi for months. He’s never here anymore, and if he is, he’s awake before the sun rises and only lets himself go to sleep a few hours before that. I know this because when I’m awake at night silently fretting about him, I pretend to sleep when I hear him quietly open the door to check on me. I think he knows I’m awake still, but he never chastises me for it. I asked twice about his absences, and each time Levi brushed it off, so I never asked again. I knew he’d tell me what I needed to know eventually.

“Across the sea…” I repeat softly.

“There’s a place… Liberio. I shouldn’t be there for long. But, I most likely won’t be able to see you even after I return.”

“Is it Eren?” I whisper. “Or—”

“—Or that bearded shithead?” He scoffs. I nod. “It doesn’t matter. It's none of your concern.”

“I know…”

It’s silent for a while. I can’t help but feel that this conversation is different from the others. Each time Levi tells me he’s leaving, whether it be for an expedition or a few days at the headquarters, he never has this much hesitation in his voice. There’s more tension in the air than ever. But like always, I know he won’t tell me what’s going on. I know that as much as I crave the reassurance, his truths will do everything but that.

“You’ll be fine. The neighbors will check in on you like always,” I hear him gulp down the last of his tea. “I’ll help you to bed and then I’ll be off.”

The brash, screeching sound of him pushing back his chair from the table to stand makes me jump to do the same. We both know he doesn’t need to, but Levi puts a hand on my upper back to help lead me to my bedroom. There’s more weight to it tonight. We’re both quiet as we go up the stairs, my hand sliding along the cold, grainy wood of the railing.

“What about—”

“—Don’t,” Levi already knows what I’m going to ask. “I already put plenty of money in the drawer for you.”

“For how long?”

“You ask too many questions.”

He opens my bedroom door and gently pushes me inside. All at once, I feel an overwhelming sense of dread flood through me. Something is wrong, terribly wrong. Levi knows it and won’t tell me. And, I may never know his truths. Is this his way of saying goodbye? Acting like everything is like normal? This isn’t like another expedition with Erwin— those stopped long ago when he died.

“Levi…”

“Get in bed.”

I sit on the edge of it, the cool sheets bring me no comfort. My heart pounds and pounds. I don’t like this. I don’t want this. Levi is the one constant I’ve ever known. The way he’s speaking, the subtle emotions in his voice that I’ve never heard before… Tears form in my eyes.

“What’s wrong, Levi?”

“Lay down and get some sleep,” He says.

I fall forward and wrap my arms around his waist. Levi tenses at my sudden move, and the fact that this the most intimate we’ve been with each other since we were children. I can hear his heartbeat through his sternum, it’s loud and grounding. He’s warm, warmer than anything in this creaky, cold house. Silent, hot tears fall down my cheeks, his soft button up soaks them up. I expect him to reprimand me for it or pull me off, but it never comes.

Instead, he finally puts a hand on the top of my head and one on my back. I can feel the rough, calloused pads of his fingertips rifle through my hair before resting on my scalp. He takes a deep breath, and more tears fall as the dread in me replaces with utter, complete sadness. Levi’s lack of words and acceptance of this just further proves to me that he won’t be returning to me anytime soon, or likely ever again.

“Don’t go,” I manage to croak out, muffled by his shirt. It’s pathetic, really, but I can’t help it.

“Lay down…” He says, with a tone softer than anything I’ve heard from him before. Levi pulls me away and leans me back until my head hits the pillow. The cold sheets rustle as he fixes them over me.

“When will you be back?”

“Damnit, you know I don’t know,” He mutters. His tone is frustrated and gruff, but I know it’s not aimed at me. A few tears escape again, falling downward to soak into my hair as I lay facing up. I’m getting desperate over something I know I can’t do anything about.

“H-How do you expect me to sleep?”

“You’ll be alright.”

I can barely, barely see his figure in the lamplight. I can tell he’s standing over me, just watching. After what seems like forever, his hand comes to cup the side of my face. His rough thumb feels like sandpaper as it rests just beside my lips. I freeze for a moment. Our entire lives together, Levi has never done anything like this. Although his warm palm is scratchy, it’s the most comfort I’ve felt in months.

I reach up and grab his wrist, holding him there. I want to memorize this feeling, just in case it’s the last time I’ll have the privilege to feel it.

“I wish things could be different,” Levi whispers. “But I need to leave.”

“Will you come see me as soon as you can?” I whisper back.

“Yes.”

“Do you promise?”

He hesitates. “Yes.”

Levi pulls his hand away. My cheek feels like stone as soon as it’s gone. I see his barely-there shadow reach for the bedside table, and the lamp clicks off. He’s gone. I feel his presence beside me, but I can no longer see it without the light illuminating it. I know he only did that so I couldn’t see him leave. Light footsteps thud across the room, my bedroom door creaks open, then clicks closed.

Already, I want to shout at him. I want to leap out of bed and scramble downstairs, pull on his cloak and beg him not to go. I want to beg him to stay, to make him crawl into his own bed for the night. I want to tell him about the feelings that I’m not even sure are real.

I hear his boots travel down the stairs, a few shuffles and creaks in the kitchen, and then the front door groan open. He hesitates— I count three times as many seconds as usual before the front door latches closed, and his key turns the lock shut.

The feelings I’m not sure are real suddenly seem more true than the earth under my feet. They scream at me, so loudly it’s almost unbearable to suppress it all in this suffocating, silent room.

I don’t sleep at all that night.

And in the morning, I fumble my way downstairs to check the drawer and open the bag where Levi always leaves me money. There are six of them, stuffed as full as they can stand. It’s more than ten times what he has ever left me before.

I let myself cry again.

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daenysx · 3 months ago

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tangerine and misunderstanding trope 🥺? i love how you write him!

-send me drabble requests!

tangerine x fem!reader

It hurts more than you think it would. The messages he didn't reply, the missed calls, the invitations to your apartment he didn't even respond to.

Maybe you were fooling yourself.

You don't let yourself fall into self pity, though. Tangerine is not your boyfriend. He's not, right? Because to be your boyfriend, he should've done something about it. Instead he's been ghosting your efforts to reach out.

You think being hurt over a man who's not your boyfriend is a terrible thing. For many reasons.

He is your something, though. You really like him. You like his deep blue eyes, his kind smile, his stupid jokes, and his frown. You like how soft he seems to be next to you, how his lips curl upwards when he talks about Lemon, how his hands always find yours under any table. You don't want to let this go. You just wish him to try a little, at least.

And, you know what? Fuck him, if he doesn't. Maybe he's not the man you met, maybe he's changed. Maybe he doesn't have enough courage to come and say he doesn't want anything to do with you. Maybe he's just a coward who doesn't know how to end something that didn't even start.

You wish you could stop liking this coward so much.

The day goes on just like any others. You come home earlier, luckily taking the emptier bus and buying some much needed groceries. You settle down on your evening routine easily, a nice shower and dinner afterwards, picking up something to watch as you mindlessly scroll on your phone. The couch is comfy under your body as you get a book in your hand, minutes slipping quickly, you think you can fall asleep here tonight.

Someone knocks on the door.

You flinch, sleep leaving your body immediately. No one called you before coming over, who's at the door? You walk slowly, trying to get a glimpse of the person outside with your hand on your heart.

It's him.

Is it too late to pretend to be asleep? No, you're not running away from this. You're having this conversation, what is he doing here anyway? He doesn't even have the decency to let you know before he comes over. You open the door with a rush of anger in your chest.

"Hey, darlin'," Tangerine says. Is that blood on his hands? "Sorry, were you sleeping?"

You shake your head, trying to get your mind work properly. "You didn't call."

He looks sorry. He should look sorry, actually. You didn't deserve any of it.

"Can I come in?" he asks. You let him take a few steps inside. He follows you to the living room, leaving his suit jacket on the side of the couch with practiced movements. It suddenly hurts how he looks like he belongs here. How he acts like it.

"Where have you been?" you ask without thinking. "You didn't answer my calls for days."

You don't care if you sound pathetic. He really worried you.

"I apologise," he begins. "I- I lost my phone on a business meeting and couldn't get a new one, I still don't have one actually, didn't have time to-"

This sounds like a shitty excuse and you talk before you can stop yourself.

"You know what- don't explain. I mean you don't have to. I'm not your girlfriend, so it's none of my business. I was just thinking you'd at least say something real. Something that sounds like a proper excuse."

"Wha- What do you mean you're not my girlfriend?" Tangerine asks. He looks genuinely confused.

You part your lips, then close them. He does surprising things tonight.

"I mean, we never made that clear, did we?" you say, slowly. "And to be honest, it's worse if you think I'm your girlfriend and still ghosted my texts for days."

"I didn't- Look, I'm sorry if this sounds like a fucked up explanation, but I'm telling the truth. I-" he takes a deep breath. "I never properly told you what I do for work, and it was wrong of me, but I was afraid that if you know- you'd never want to see me again."

You know bits and pieces about his job, you think you don't care about it now, though. You can get over it probably, but being hurt by him and feeling like he ignored you all this time is harder to accept.

"I really did think we were in a relationship," he says. His eyes are- oh, fuck him. They look so beautiful under this light, all wide and somehow innocent, he's telling the truth. "I promise, I didn't ghost your calls. I tried to do better, but I- I'm really sorry."

You take his hand. He looks at you like he's lost in all the emotions. Tangerine is not used to this, to have someone other than Lemon who worries about him and he clearly doesn't know how to make his thoughts on relationships clear. You know things don't work well over assumptions, but it doesn't look hard to fix them. You really like him. Like him enough to forgive him when he's telling the truth and rub your thumb on the back of his hand.

"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?" you ask, bravely. Things are gonna be okay, you believe.

"Of course," he replies. It's a risk, but he's made for worse of them. "More than anything."

"Okay," you say, nodding with a nice smile on your face. "But if we're gonna start this properly, we need to communicate. I don't wanna lose my mind over doubting if you like me enough to reply my texts."

He holds you, unable to stop himself from kissing your forehead. An untold apology lingers in the air. You like having Tangerine in your space.

"I like you more than enough," he says. "I know I don't deserve it, but I'm a lucky bastard that you even care to give me a chance. I'll try to be better, yeah? Really, I'll do better."

You kiss him, it's a good one for your first kiss as lovers. You squeeze his hand in yours, he kisses you back with a rush of big emotions. He's gonna carry them well, though. He has to, otherwise he'd never forgive himself.

"You can tell me all about your job when you get cleaned up in the bathroom," you tell him. "Maybe I'm being an idiot for starting a relationship with a guy when I barely know what he does for work, but I'm gonna take that risk."

Tangerine likes risks. He likes the idea of someone taking risks for him, it's a delicious feeling on his chest. He promises to be honest. Anything comes after, is a risk for him to take.

He lets you take him to the bathroom.

#tangerine #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfic #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine imagine #tangerine and lemon #bullet train imagine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train fic #bullet train fanfiction #bullet train #bullet train fanfic #aaron taylor johnson

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mina-org · 4 months ago

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Now playing: how to disappear

୨୧ John price focus but poly implied

୨୧ yandere drabble

୨୧ warnings: kidnapping, drugging, yandere themes, dark romance

୨୧ word count: 943

"Price, we're closing in five." Your soft voice reminds him, sipping on the new overpriced water bottle Price picked up for you. He heard his pretty baby talking about not being able to afford it as your coworkers flaunted them around. Lucky for you, Price is a great listener and is eager to prove he’s a provider, anything you talk about wanting he somehow falls into having or ensuring he got a discount for his service so you don't feel bad. He knows when he overstayed his welcome, usually, and he always does, if you're on the closing shift.

"lovie, the sun is setting sooner and sooner, so you be careful out there. Stay sharp now, never know what's lurking." His voice is gruff and his brow raised with a playfulness which masked a real concern, like a disapproving dad and the natural enemy; a 'too' short skirt. You nod and keep cleaning, emptying the mop bucket out back before returning.

Giving price plenty of material to imagine you as his house spouse. He knows you’d make the house a home for him and his boys, welcome him home with open arms, he’s happy to teach you to cook, he knows you're young and heard you complain about ramen and warm up meals. Price knows that feeling well, coming home after months away and coming home to nothing. A warm up meal that does nothing for his hunger and an empty house means Price’s mind is prone to daydream about a certain barista. Price spends his time off watching you, walking to work, during and walking home, what type of gentleman would let such a doll out alone. He’s seen war, so forgive him if he’s a little protective.

You come back to Price hovering over your water bottle, more importantly, the tip jar. He always takes a smoke, standing out front watching you finish your drink before getting a refill, raising the bottle to him as a cheer and another smile, still grateful for the gift. He wanders away from view, his car leaving a few minutes after, or you assume it’s his anyway, the window tint too dark to see. Price wasn't a creepy or even bad customer, he was becoming part of the furniture at this point, able to spend 8 hours there at the cafe, with the occasional smoke break of course. He tipped well enough though and his comments were overprotective at times but he rarely overstepped, and he did have a little charm about him. He’s already slipped you twenty for such good service and an even better view, he had joked, ocean blue eyes staring into yours as he leaned in closer. He also slipped you a pain killer when you complained of a headache the last hour of the shift.

You hated winter, you'd go to work and the sun had yet to rise and you'd walk home in the same darkness. It’s bitter, chill biting through your jacket as you stuff your hands in your pockets. The street lights seemingly stretch sideways, disorienting you and turning the headache into a nauseating migraine as the same two vehicles seemingly circle like vultures, waiting for you to drop.

It felt like something was encroaching as your world seemingly started to go dark. Every walk to work and the return journey felt like you were being hunted. The sight of a white car started to haunt you and raise your heart beat when you saw it, along with its van counterpart. You saw one of them each day, originally it was the car, just parked outside your apartment and then driving past work, tinted windows, driving slowly, something out of a shitty horror movie where you can practically see what grizzly fate awaits the victims.

You never noticed how many alleyways there were but now it felt like there was something ready to jump out. If you stare into the void it'll stare back and you swear you see a skull look back at you but you look again and it’s not there, great now your mind is playing tricks on you. Anxiety propelled you towards home, or you hoped it would have, instead it sent you crashing into someone. A familiar pair of mutton chops and a knowing smile looked down on you, you felt like honey on his fingers. Price kept you steady and kept hold, unwilling to let you go.

"Doll, what did I say about lurkers?" You know that tone all too well, ‘I told you so’ in his eyes. He lets out a chuckle before continuing, his eyes studying your features "You seemed stressed." his voice smooth, almost soothing as his hands travel up and down your arm, inching you closer, almost magnetizing, coaxing you into his space. You feel the haze taking over you.

“Just tired.” You feel yourself leaning into his touch, breathing becoming more of a chore, eyelids feel like bricks,heavier and harder to keep open after every blink.

“Let me help you, alright? Just let me drive ya home love.” Not so much an ask or a request but a command. He had already been guiding you to the van. You begin thrashing, struggling to escape his grip, which quickly becomes bruising.

“Oh, love, there’s no need for that, you know we'll look after you.” A chuckle leaves his throat as he feels you try to pull away, so weak against him, it's endearing really. Before you can gather the strength to stand on your own, you find yourself in the back of the van and Price standing above you, his voice ringing out, “secured the package.”.

#yandere cod mw #yandere cod #yandere x reader #yandere john price x reader #john price x reader #john price #yandere john price #yandere captain price x reader #yandere captain price #john price cod

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achilles-rage · 5 months ago

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Bad Thing Turned Even Better

part one

summary: months after your encounter with buck at the bar, you confront him at his apartment about what he the hell that night was.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: y'all this is not the trope you think it is, i promise!! please don't click off when you read the first sentence of dialogue!! also, how the hell did a drabble prompt request turn into two parts?? i guess i'm just that feral over buck and hate fucking?? anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: mentions of previous smut (but no actual smut), talk about reader hating shitty men<3, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

It’s been a few months since you’ve last seen Buck at the bar, and you’ve been avoiding him ever since.

You can’t exactly say that you regret it; he knew exactly what he was doing, but the more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off even more. Did he have to be so cocky, and smug, and overall infuriating? You can’t believe that you actually gave in to him, and then gave him the satisfaction of not seeing him for months, like some stupid one night stand. It’s probably exactly what he wanted to happen; to use you and throw you away like nothing.

Without thinking any further, you get dressed and make your way to Buck’s apartment with a frown etched onto your face.

You pull into the parking lot haphazardly, barely putting the car in park before stomping up to his door, knuckles rapping harshly on the wood and your eyes narrowed. He’s in the middle of cooking dinner, so he drops his knife and makes his way to the front door, smirking when he looks through the peephole and sees you.

“I’m pregnant.” is all you say when he opens the door, pushing your way past him and into the apartment before he can react.

The smirk drops from his face as soon as the words register in his mind, and he turns on his heel as he closes the door, his brows furrowed in concern.

“What?” Buck gets out, eyes travelling down your body, taking a moment to focus on your plush middle. He hates that possessiveness flares inside him at the thought; of you being claimed completely by him, as much as it scares the hell out of him.

“Okay, I’m not. But, did you even think about that possibility when you didn’t pull out?” you question, your arms crossed over your chest as you glare at Buck. You can see the sigh of relief he takes, but then almost immediately, the smirk is back on his face as he takes a step closer to you, eyeing you with a lustful gleam in his eyes.

“You didn’t think about it either, though, did you, sweetheart?” he questions, mirroring your stance and crossing his own arms, making his biceps flex against the tight sleeves of his t-shirt.

You clench your jaw at his accusation, because he’s right. When he was fucking you, all you could think about was him filling you up; you didn’t even have half of a mind to think about the possible implications of your actions.

“This isn’t about me. This is about you being completely reckless. You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” you finally say after a second too long, and he catches on to this. He tilts his head to the side, then takes another step closer to you, effectively closing the distance between the two of you and forcing you to tilt your head up to keep your narrowed eyes locked with his.

“Honestly, I think I would’ve done the exact same thing even if I knew you weren’t. And you wouldn’t have complained, either, would you?” he questions, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek as his eyes dart down to the way your arms push your tits up.

For a moment, you can’t even speak; you’re so angry and, you hate to admit, turned on, that all you can do is clench your jaw and stare up at him.

Finally, you scoff, shaking your head once before standing up straighter, trying to get into his face.

“God, do you always have to be like this? The only person you think about is yourself!” He chuckles, raising his brows at your outburst, and he leans in even closer as his eyes dart from your lips to your eyes, letting you feel his breath against your skin.

He loves your feisty side. It’s never been something he’s necessarily gravitated towards, but you just look so good when you’re pissed off at him. He’s not exactly sure why you hate him so much, but he does know that he loves to see that look in your eyes. Almost as much as he loves how easy it is to fuck the attitude out of you.

“Actually, I was thinking about you. Being completely mine.” he says in a low, smooth voice, tilting his head further to the side as his eyes narrow slightly.

Your throat goes dry at his words, but you keep your gaze stoic, eyes searching his for a moment as you try not to let the butterflies deep in your belly rise to the surface. You’d love for him to actually mean it, but why would he, you think? You’ve seen the type of women guys like him go for; thin, model-like figure, and absolutely gorgeous. You know you’re pretty, but you know not to get your hopes up with men like him.

“What are you trying to do here?” you finally say, now less angry, and more exhausted. You’ve spent so long hating Buck, and you’re getting sort of sick of having your guard up when he’s around, which is quite frequently with him being in your friend group.

“I think it’s obvious.” he says, the corners of his mouth turning down as he shrugs. You scoff, rolling your eyes. Why does he insist on continuing to toy with you?

“What are you really trying to do? Because we both know it isn’t that.” you ask again, letting your arms fall to your sides.

“Why are you so sure it’s not?” he questions as his smirk slowly falls. He can see that you’re at your wits end, so he uncrosses his arms as well, letting a sincere look make its way onto his face as he puts his hands on his hips.

“Because I know you! I know guys like you!” you practically yell, throwing your arms up in the air as if it’s obvious. You let out a sigh once you see his brows furrow in confusion, turning and taking a step back as you collect your thoughts for a second without him so close.

“You’re smug, and you’re arrogant, and you’re only nice to people that you think are attractive enough to deserve your attention, which by the way, isn’t all that special of a thing.” you list off, counting each thing on your fingers as you move to stand in front of him again.

He still looks confused, and you’re not sure if you’re more angry or frustrated at this point. Now that you say it out loud, you feel a little silly, but it’s still what you believe; it’s what you’ve been proven many times in your life.

“Have I done anything to prove to you that I’m like that?” he questions, ducking his head down to better match your height. He brings one of his hands up to your arm in a way to comfort you, because he’s unsure of what else to do. Now that he knows why you don’t like him, he’s confused, and a little upset you think so little of him.

“You didn’t have to. I’ve known enough guys like you.” you say, shrugging away from his grip and taking a step back. You force yourself to look away from him; if you don’t, you’re sure you’ll just end up doing something stupid. Now that he’s not being so confident and cocky, all you want to do is kiss him again.

“Well, maybe that’s the problem. I’ve only ever been nice to you, and you’re acting like this because different guys have treated you like shit.” he tries to reason, wanting more than anything to close the distance between you again. He feels that surge of possessiveness fill his belly again at the thought of men in your past treating you badly enough to turn you into this. It’s cute, and he loves it, but he also feels his blood boiling as he thinks about you having to act like this in order to protect yourself from men.

“Come on, you’re too hot to not be like that. You’re just better at hiding it.” you say, mostly talking to yourself as you look up at him.

“So, you think I’m hot?” he says, the usual smirk making its way back onto his face. He’s not sure how else to show you that he wants you; he’s flirted with you for months. He fucked you for God’s sake, and you still think he’s not being serious.

“Do you always have to be like this? You were finally being a normal person.” you say, letting out an incredulous laugh, fighting back a smile as you look away.

He grabs your chin before your face is hidden from him, though, and he brings your face back up to his, letting his eyes study your face for a moment.

“You’re beautiful.” he murmurs as his eyes dart back up to yours. You feel heat rising to your cheeks at the sincerity behind his words, and the smile finally makes its way onto your face.

He can’t help but smile when you do, loving the sight. He’s sure now that he’d rather see you like this than like you were before.

“Stop.” you whisper, voice cracking and barely audible as butterflies swarm your tummy. He just chuckles quietly, grabbing your hip with his other hand and pulling you into him.

“No.” he whispers back before leaning down, his lips meeting yours in a dizzying kiss. He can feel your plush body against his front, and he hums softly, tilting your head further up into the kiss before his hand moves from your chin to the side of your neck and holds you in place.

He’s tempted to pick you up and bring you upstairs to his bed, but he knows he should take things slower than he did at the bar, as amazing as that night was. He keeps his movements slow, letting his tongue slip into your mouth when you part your lips, and runs his thumb over the sensitive skin on your neck as he holds you flush against him.

After a minute or two, you try to deepen the kiss, raising onto your toes and grabbing the front of his shirt as your lips speed up, but he pulls back an inch, mumbling “slower” against your lips.

You try to do as he says, but your knees feel weak. Your head is spinning with how he’s kissing you, and all you want is more of him. He has to remind you a few times to slow down before you finally pull back breathlessly, your pupils blown and lips swollen as you look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes.

“Do you believe me now?” he asks softly, keeping you pressed tight against him as his hand moves up your side comfortingly.

You blink slowly, barely even remembering your own name as you stare into his eyes. You can’t even remember what you were talking about before he kissed you, so all you say is a gentle “what?”

“Do you believe that I want you now?” he clarifies, unable to resist the urge to lean down and give you a chaste kiss as your brows remain knit together in confusion.

“That depends.” you say, a small smile making its way onto your face as you shrug.

“On what?” he asks with a smile, his own brows furrowing. He thought the kiss finally got his feelings for you into your head, but now it doesn’t seem so.

“You have enough for two?” you tease, looking over to the kitchen where his half-cooked meal is sitting. He chuckles with a shake of his head. You’re going to be the death of him.

“Absolutely.” he purrs, pulling you impossibly closer, and you laugh softly, nodding.

“Good.” you say, then push him away and make your way over to the kitchen, looking over the ingredients spread across the counter.

He stays in his spot for a moment, watching the way your hips sway, and he smiles to himself at how content you finally seem in his presence. You’re quick to make yourself at home in his apartment, and it makes his chest fill with pride that he’s finally broken through your walls.

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jojissalsa · 2 years ago

Text

husband!leon drabble

hear me out, cause i have an idea :3 (yes this is a drabble but also kinda long...)

cw: housewife kink, very slight condescension, praise, oral, breeding kink, ya get the gist. (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)

i cannot get my mind off husband!leon, like... at all, i feel like he'd love to pamper you. you need your hair trimmed? when and where. going somewhere special? he'll immediately take you shopping. his favorite is when you wanna get your nails done, he'll just hand you that sleek black credit card. i mean, it's not like he doesn't have the money. he has to deal with the worst horrors this shitty world could conjure up, so all he wants at the end of the day is to see your pretty smile.

it's all he can think about at work. everyone notices how distracted he seems, constantly checking his phone for possible pictures or any kind of update. he's so glad he doesn't have much work to do that day, so he can be home before you. and when you finally unlock the door he has to stop himself from running to you like an excited dog happy to see his owner.

and you know he's excited, as much as he tries to hide it as you walk over to the couch where he's sitting, plopping down right next to him and nuzzling into his side. "you like 'em?" you hold out your hand, a smug smirk on your face as he takes your hand. "it's pretty.." he whispers in awe, a loving expression on your face. usually he's the type to wanna lay on your chest, having your nails graze his scalp so he can finally relax. he knows you love it too, like he's a big lap dog you can watch movies with.

he feels a lil different tonight though, maybe he's just pent up, but all he can think about is your pretty, delicate hand wrapped around his cock, your lipstick smeared around your mouth and making rings on the length of his cock. and you know he's thinking about something, because he moves his hand up yours before grabbing your wrist and pressing your palm against his cock.

"feel that? that's what you do to me, so damn sweet. you and that needy cunt is all i can think about. c'mere, wanna see those pretty hands jerk me off." you don't waste any time moving your head into his lap as he pulls down his sweats, your hands finding their place at the base of his cock and cupping his balls, your tongue already lapping at his tip, savoring the taste of his pre-cum. he looks so fucking hot like this, legs spread, arm resting on the back of the couch while his hand moves down your back and under your leggings, determined to feel more of you. you're always such a good girl when you sink your mouth lower on his cock, tip hitting the back of your throat which makes his hips buck and his head tilt back as he groans.

"i got so lucky, pretty wife that knows how to suck dick. so eager for me to touch you, huh? need my fingers to fill up that tight pussy, don't you, honey? can't answer with a mouthful of cock, can you?" leon can never help himself, he has to be a little smug, because he landed such a hot piece of ass and he's more than confident about you belonging to him completely. how you stop everything you're doing to please him. how can he not pay back the favor? he pulls your leggings down to your thighs along with your panties, coating his fingers in your slick before slipping his fingers inside your welcoming pussy. you clench around his thick fingers when you feel the cold metal of his wedding band, and it only makes him smile wider.

like i said, he really does love to pamper you. make you feel pretty all the time, because you are. you may not think you are all the time, but he sure as shit does. pretty enough to carry his baby, too. "such a pretty girl, you'd look even more beautiful with my baby inside you." you whimper around his cock, pulling your head up to stroke him so you can catch your breath. "like that one, hmm? you always walk around looking like a fucking milf, so damn sexy with those tight jeans and cute heels i buy for you." you knew he was a family man, wanted at least two kids, but damn he did not have to make the idea sound that fucking hot.

and you let him, he could give you a whole bloodline and you'd do it with a smile. letting him fuck his huge load of cum into your tight cunt, those pretty nails digging into his back as your legs keep him pumping his cum inside you. "atta girl, can't wait to see that pregnancy test. gonna keep you here and take good care of you, promise." he lets you come back down to reality as he leans up, getting a good view of your blissed out smile, humming contently as you look up at him. "you won't have to lift a single finger with me around, trust me."

#leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #older leon kennedy #leon kennedy death island #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon resident evil #im so mentally ill abt him

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huunni · 22 days ago

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18+ content under the cut, minors and ageless blogs dni

huunni drops ↪frank castle 🙀 eating drabble because i can't sleep. that's really it. lowkey kinda shitty bc im still getting back into writing but expect more actor or character stuff in the future. tom hardy, jake gyllenhaal, hugh jackman, etc.

frank castle x brown!fem!reader

it was a joke. a stupid slip of the tongue that you didn't have a second thought about until now. frank and you were sitting in your apartment, on the couch, frank, letting you curl up in between his legs, occasionally sitting up to mess with him. then a sex scene came on in the show you two were watching. the average aggressive clattering left both of you silently rolling your eyes and holding back cringes as the female lead made an extremely un-sexy remark about sitting on her boyfriend's face. more specifically, on his nose.

"his nose is so small, i mean-- i would get it if his nose was big, like yours.. but it just doesn't make sense." frank stopped listening after you said 'yours', blood already rushing to his dick as he imagined how fucking hot it would be for you to sit on his nose, practically suffocating him while he sucked on your pretty clit. surely he couldn't leave that fantasy in the back of his head, right?

"mm-mmn. stop fuckin' running. you're not goin- shit, you're not goin' anywhere, baby. you asked for this." frank reprimands you from below, fixing you hips back down on his face. you tried to reason with him through broken up moans of his name and other incomprehensible noises. you could hurt him, you could be too heavy, he could die.

for all frank castle stood for, hand on his heart, dying right in this moment would make him the happiest man alive. smothered in between your beautiful brown thighs and sucking on your pussy while you moan with no conviction, no shame. you could cover your mouth or push yourself off him if you really tried, but you couldn't, because your mind was being turned into mush by the way frank moved his tongue on you.

you can feel that buzzing deep in your stomach starts to heat up, and your breath becomes short. all you can grasp onto is frank's bulging forearms, wrapped around your thighs, keeping them up by his ears. "ohhh shit, oh fuck, fuck me, fuuuuck me, frank, oh my god, fuck.."

atta girl, he wants to say. keep on cummin, all over my face. don't you worry, i've got you. say my name just like that. but instead, he hums into your clit, short mhm-mhm sounds that start to sound more like moans. they are moans. frank lays flat after a few moments, not daring to move you until you move yourself save for the fact that he literally cannot breathe. he doesn't care, he's a marine, after all. he's trained for this type of shit.

when you do move however, you come to the bizarre realization that frank just came, untouched, just from eating your pussy. you almost wanna tease, but he's already climbing on top of you, kissing up your neck and face. "now.. let's try that position you mentioned last week. the one up on the wall."

#🍯 — huunni pot #🍯.txt #x black reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x black reader #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal x y/n #actors x readers #actor x reader #x reader #x reader smut

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radioisntdead · 1 year ago

Note

I have an idea.

Mom susan and daughter are reader

How about the reader tries to introduce her husband to her mother??

Good evening my dear! I wanted to see a Susan and Alastor in-law showdown and I wrote a drabble and then some headcanons, so I hope you don't mind, but if you do just let me know and I can replace Alastor with another requested character or an oc or something,

The mother in-law

Susan & daughter reader, Alastor x female reader

Warnings!!

Cannibalism, violent elderly, implied Violence AGAINST the elderly in the headcanons mostly, Susan invading boundaries, Alastor gets insulted by Susan, Reader needs a drink, poorly drawn Cat Alastor in a suit, OOC characters, not proofread, does anyone know a replacement for Grammerly??

Alastor made the most of falling to eternal damnation, seeing it as a new opportunity,

He become an overlord, a cannibal, the feared Radio demon,

It was shocking enough to him that he had met you, and while it did take awhile and a long long friendship he did end up realizing he had feelings for you, a sweetheart of a cannibal, who worked with his dear friend Rosie and asked to court you in the gentlemenly way, with a bouquet of seven roses and a kiss on your hand, He was the happiest lil' deer in all of hell.

He'd take you dancing, you'd do something like reading or taking a nap as he did his radio broadcast, the two of you would go on walks,

It was bliss

Unfortunately or fortunately depending how you look at it, Alastor disappeared for seven years taking you with him, much to the distain of your mother.

During the time away you were wed, it was a small ceremony, only the two of you and the fucked up cat thing that looked strikingly like Alastor you adopted as your witness.

Anyways with the sudden seven year disappearance and marriage, he never got to formally meet his mother in law that you've told him so much about,

So once everything was settled and you got to visit your dear mama a couple of times, you decided to finally introduce them,

Unfortunately they already knew each other.

Oh no.

Alastor wore his best suit, he even put that evil radio cat into a suit, you wore a lovely dress that matched the aesthetics of cannibal town [Or an exact copy of Alastor's regular suit if you wanna give Susan a heart attack]

He walked arm in arm with you to the cannibal town home your mother lived in, and from the moment the door was opened there was only one thought on his mind.

Oh shit it was Susan, you were the daughter of the Ornery old bitch,

How was someone like YOU related to SUSAN??

Were you adopted? You had to be, he refused to believe that old lady had spawned you in any type of way, maybe she picked you up off the street?

Susan grabbed your hand pulling you in and looking over you, not bothering to greet the radio demon beside you,

"Where have you been I thought you died, Why are you with the guy with the shitty haircut that looks like someone went at him with a fucking hedge trimmer"

"Mama I visited you last week,"

Susan questioned immediately as you laughed nervously, barely two seconds in and she had already insulted Alastor,

you look over to Alastor who stood awkwardly in the door way, waiting to be invited in, the cursed cat in a suit standing by him also waiting to be invited in.

"And apparently you already know my Alasto-"

you were cut off swiftly by Susan squinting at Alastor

"You married the fucking embodiment of red-40?"

Alastor blinked, "Excuse me?"

"You're excused." Susan moved to shut the door in Alastor's face but was stopped by you stopping her

"Ma, please, Alastor come on in"

You said gesturing for your husband and the thing to enter, Susan scoffed mumbling about something as she turned around and sped into the kitchen.

Alastor leaned into you, hooking his arm with yours as the messed up cat clone moved around immediately crawling upon Susan's rocking chair.

"My dear it's not too late to leave and dine elsewhere''

"Alastor please, It's just one dinner with my Ma''

"Who's an ornery old-"

"ALASTOR."

It's a very very awkward dinner, Alastor tried to compliment Susan's meatloaf? He got bullied, you did step in to shut that behavior down but that didn't do much, Alastor tried to help wash the dishes after supper? Susan stood over him watching as he washed every plate and each piece of cutlery, judging him.

Susan did not fear the overlord, and you were concerned.

After dinner was finished and dessert was eaten Susan stared both you and Alastor down as you sat on her couch.

"How long have you been married?"

"Six years."

"Where are my grandchildren then?!"

You hold up the mini Alastor, it's tail wagged slowly as Susan looked upon it with a look of disapproval,

"That's a shitty looking rat, is your husband dysfunctional?"

"Ma, can you not- NO, Alastor put away the tentacles she will RIP THEM OFF-''

AND HEADCANON TIME BECAUSE I am not the best at writing action.

You poor soul.

They can't kill each other because you exist,

It's like stopping two toddlers from fighting except one's well over a century old and your married to the other one,

You're an unpaid babysitter I'm so sorry

Alastor was raised to respect woman and the elderly but he is very close to attacking Susan

He can't do much because he doesn't want to get into trouble with Rosie because attacking one of her cannibals no matter who it is, was a whole can of worms he rather not open, and also she was unfortunately your mother,

He's questioning that, like after this dinner expect him to sit you down and just start throwing questions, like how?

He liked Susan's meatloaf well enough, he could live without it though,

Susan runs into him randomly on the street? She asks if she has a grandchild yet, no? He's getting attacked with the cane and asked if he cannot perform properly Violence on the ace deer

She tries to convince you to leave him and tried introducing you to a random cannibal she pulled off the street, but she stopped after you got upset at her.

Assuming you live at the Hazbin hotel with Alastor Susan visits, she somehow got a key to the room you and Alastor shared so you could be sleeping and Susan pops in swinging her cane, dropping lore

Alastor lives in mild fear, he's changed the locks, he's put Niffty outside the door as security,

Susan always GETS IN.

You have boundaries with her but she breaks them and your working on getting her to stop,

It becomes a hotel wide situation of getting Susan to not break in

She oddly enough likes Angel dust and you use him as a distraction whenever she appears without warning,

You owe Angel several favors.

You are in debt.

Susan eventually grows a fondness for the freak grandchild, she gets clothes, dresses him up and calls him sonny,

Alastor's not the most pleased but it's better then getting asked if he suffers from certain conditions

They sometimes fight over your time, like he's taking you out on a date and Susan pops in and drags whisks you away for tea or something,

They can't do much aside from verbal Insults and glares, but they did get into a physical fight, Alastor got hit with a chair, Susan almost got eaten, Alastor sent Niffty on her and she almost got stabbed

You threatened to tell Rosie and they both stopped, thankfully

Susan keeps divorce papers on hand just in case you ever change your mind, she's not afraid to attack an overlord, this woman is down below for a reason and she is FERAL.

If she catches Alastor chompin' down on your arm he's getting whooped with a cane and the both of you are getting a full lecture on if he's doing anything he's not supposed too, and if he is, he needs to go.

Alastor is very adamant that he would never intentionally harm you apparently the BITING DOESN'T COUNT AS HARM???

Dude has a fear of becoming like his father.

They have issues but they agree on things like this,

There's eventually a group meeting about Susan breaking into the hotel and while she's welcome she needs to stop popping in at late hours of the night or at the crack of dawn,

There's a Susan security system set up now.

Susan's never going to fully approve because you'll always be that small child she found on the side of the streets long ago to her and no man, woman or whatever is going to be good enough for her little girl, but she'll put up with it, she knows that while Alastor isn't the best person it could be worse.

She eventually respects your boundaries, yay!

Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in! I hope you liked whatever this was, I'm slowly working though requests! Now it's 3 am and I'm tired, goodnight! Have a cursed cat Alastor in a suit that I drew with my fingers

He looks like a tatortot

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #susan & reader #alastor x reader #alastor x you

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