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Game Nights
Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Game nights in the tower are unpredictable.
Word Count: Over 900
Warnings: Humor, mentions of violence, the team loves trolling on John, kissing, implied smut, team bonding (kind of), Thunderbolts spoilers, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Silly headcanon set in the same world as Not Exactly a Secret and part of my Tower Shenanigans. I'm not at all sorry. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Game nights typically take place on Saturdays since Fridays are reserved for movie night. Snacks and drinks are a must, but there is a drink maximum, so things don’t get too crazy or emotional.
Bucky purposely gets John the generic brand when it’s his turn to go snack shopping and tells him to deal with it since the quality is just as good. Everyone else gets the name brand of whatever they want.
There's a huge board with all of your names and the games listed. The tally marks are in various colors, and sometimes names are erased and replaced with affectionate nicknames.
When John demanded to know who changed his name to “the man with a punchable face”, Bob was ready to confess, but Bucky took the blame, followed by Yelena, you, and Ava. It was a real “I'm Spartacus!” moment.
Anyone caught cheating is on clean-up duty. You and Bucky have both cheated on the same night so you could clean up together.
There are occasional tournaments complete with medals and trophies. The gang insisted that participation ribbons were not allowed, but you found a funny last place trophy that you had to get and everyone agreed.
The gang tries to switch it up between classic games, video games, and children's games to keep things interesting. No matter what you play there is a level of competitiveness.
You try not to rub it in when you win a game, but you will have a subtle smirk on your face when you catch Bucky’s eye. Alexei, on the other hand, loves to yell, “In your face!” while doing air thrusts and Yelena has come close to banning her dad from game nights because of it.
If it’s girls versus boys, the girls win almost every time. The boys can't figure out how, but it might have something to do with John and Alexei both trying to be the leader, Bucky being done, and Bob just wanting to have fun.
Bucky picks you for any game that requires a partner or teammate outside of girls versus boys, even if there is someone better suited. He doesn't care because he always wants you by his side.
Bucky also picks two-player games for the two of you to play while the rest of the gang plays something else. Yelena often does the same thing with Bob.
Weapons aren't allowed. That rule should've been enforced from the beginning, but John insisted after Bucky threatened to stab him during a game of Uno.
To be fair, John kept playing Draw 4 cards and everyone knew it was a dick move. Even John knew it.
Bucky will switch to Russian when he gets frustrated or really into a game. He didn't realize it until Yelena and Alexei replied in Russian.
Hide-and-Seek is banned. Ava kept phasing out of her hiding spots, and you and Bucky got caught fooling around in the coat closet.
Truth or Dare is also banned. Too personal with the questions when it was meant to be a fun night and Ava kept daring you and Bucky to kiss each other, which you did.
Bob got nervous the first time you all played Among Us, but Yelena assured him it would be fun. It ended with a chair flipped over, which is considerably tame.
Bob also goes into any shooting game prepared to lose because look who he’s playing with? He still has fun with it.
You once sweet talked Bucky into playing Dance Dance Revolution and he did well, surprising no one. So did Yelena and Ava, and not a single one of them cracked a smile while they danced.
John takes Pictionary way too seriously, and you threatened to break the easel and stab him when he raised his voice at Bob. Bucky fell in love with you a little bit more.
Ava encouraged you to flash Bucky once when he was winning at Mario Kart. You did and he looked, but he still managed to win.
Yelena argues with Alexei during Jenga. She doesn't need him to tell her which block to move or distract her.
You and Bucky always end up choosing each other's cards during Cards Against Humanity. You just get each other, and you love getting a laugh out of him every time he reads your card.
Alexei insists that karaoke should be considered a game and he always wants to sing first, which embarrasses Yelena. He once serenaded you and Bucky because, well, he’s one of your biggest supporters.
Card games are tense and Yelena usually ends up with the most money by the end of them. She prefers Poker to Blackjack.
Bob was so happy the first time he won Clue that he almost cried. Everyone hugged him, knowing he never got the chance to have fun game nights growing up.
John recently made a casual comment about wanting to play games like these with his kid. No one gave him a hard time because everyone could see how much he longed for it.
Some game nights end with yelling and broken furniture, but more often than not they end with smiles, laughter, and a sense of normalcy. It’s a nice change of pace from some of the horrors you’ve faced, and a great way to bond.
But Bucky will still find a way to stab John if he can if only to keep him on his toes.
BAHAHA. What do we think? Any other games? What other shenanigans do we think they get up to in and out of game nights? Let me know! Love and thanks for reading.
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#james buchanan barnes#thunderbolts!bucky barnes#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#thunderbolts spoilers#thunderbolts* spoilers#tower shenanigans#yelena belova#alexei shostakov#john walker#ava starr#bob reynolds
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Hideout

Wife reader x Bucky Barnes
Summary: your husband and a bunch of strangers show up at your house in the middle of the night.
Warnings: John walker, swearing
A/n: The car they have is a mini van instead of the van they had in the movie, so with actual seats and that stuff - so minor change, that's all.

^the car seating plan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Where are we going?" Ava asks, being the third person in the last ten minutes to ask Bucky this. "We'll be there shortly" He grounds out, the same response he's given the last two times.
John is about to say something but is quickly stopped by the glare wielded his way from Yelena. From the past three days of knowing him, she's gotten used to knowing that whenever he opens his mouth, something stupid comes out. Every. Time. And every time, it looks like Bucky is that much closer to pummeling him.
Another fifteen minutes later and Bucky pulls the van into a dirt road leading away from any civilization. Ava and Yelena look out the rear window as the main road is getting further and further away.
The two women glance at each other in concern of where they're heading and how Bucky isn't telling them anything about it. "This seems more like a kidnapping than staying under the radar" Ava finally says when Bucky continues driving deeper into the forest.
"I'm sure the winter soldier knows where we're going and what he's doing. We're fine." Alexei says with a hefty laugh as he's watching from the window beside him.
Bucky meanwhile lets out an aggravated sigh to himself, but he doesn't say anything since in just mere minutes, they'll arrive at the location. The location of which feels like he hasn't been to in way too long for his liking.
And that location is a cabin. A cabin that Tony had set up for his wife during the blip so she wouldn't have to put on any kind of act by being around others all the time. That woman just so happened yo be you, Y/n Barnes.
You're an ex. shield agent that helped Steve with finding Bucky after the events of Pierce and Hydra still being active, as well as the whole project insight fail. Bucky and you caught feelings for each other after some time of finding him again and through the events of the team splitting up and fighting against Thanos, both times. After the second time and all the tragedy, you guys decided to get married. Not that it didn't come with hardships, like the whole therapy thing and having to forgive himself and make amends, and the flagsmashers. But all in all, you love each other.
Which is how you find your eyebrows furrowing as you hear a rusty sound of a car driving along the path towards the cabin. That wasn't normal. Your husband always comes home on his bike, only a car a few times, but those times he alerted you. This time though, you got no communication from him that says not to worry.
So, you immediately turn the light off in the living room and grab your gun from the holster on your thigh. Yes, you may be alone out here, but it doesn't mean danger can't find you. Plus, this is what you were trained for.
You silently move through the pitch black house, the only light coming from the headlights of the car illuminating the halls from through the windows. Sticking to the shadows, you make your way outside through a hidden door at the side of the house.
The gun with your finger on the trigger is held firmly down to your right side as you trek silently to the corner to get a glimpse at who's in the car.
"What is this place?" Yelena asks when Bucky turns off the ignition and pulls the keys out. Instead of answering, Bucky just gets out of the car and puts his hands up after closing the door.
"I know you're there. It's me." He calls out to, appearance wise, no one. This makes everyone still in the van look at each other with confused gazes before unbuckling their seatbelts and getting out of the mini van as well. Except for Yelena right away, she stays to wake Bob up. He had nodded off an hour ago in the drive, his head rested against the small window to his left.
You come out of your hiding spot behind the corner of the house with your gun held in front of you, your legs spread in a fighting stance. That is until it's confirmed that it's in fact your husband and no trick.
Paying no mind to the other people coming out of the car, you holster your gun and go over to him. Bucky quickly wraps his arms around you and holds you close to him. He rests his head on your shoulder as he breathes in the light scent of your shampoo that's still lingering from the shower you took this morning.
As Yelena and Bob emerge from the beat up mini van, you and bucky pull apart from one another to face the group of them who are now acting as though they weren't just watching what happened.
You scan over everyone and the last person, your face twists in something someone can only call as disgust. John Walker. "Hey, Y/n, long time no see?" The man at least has the decency to be weary and nervous, scratching the back of his neck. "Could be longer" You say sharply before taking your eyes off him, and just stare at the group as a whole instead.
"Wait, who is this?" Yelena is the one to speak up. "This is Y/n. My wife." Bucky smiles softly, the most genuine look on his face they've seen on him as he looks at you.
"You have a wife?" Several versions of this questions rise from the group, but get off from a glare he sends their way.
"Hey. Nice to meet you guys, I guess" You look back up at your husband before to them again. "Who are you exactly and why do you look like you just went ten rounds with a tornado?" You ask with a raised eyebrow as you take in how disheveled they all look.
"It's best we explain inside." Bucky says. You let out a puff of air before nodding after a moment and taking a key out of your boot. You head to the front door and unlock it, your husband by your side as the rest of them follow inside.
You turn the lights on as Bucky closes and locks the door and enacts the security system that runs through the house and property. "This way" You say and lead them to the living room. As they take a seat, all basically bursting with confusion still, you go over to your husband.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me you were coming, Buck!?" You exclaim in a hushed whisper. "I didn't have any way of communicating you. And I was a little pre-occupied" He glances at the people in the next room over. "I was worried about you" you finally say. "I didn't know what was happening. All I knew was how you bailed on your congressman meetings and had apparently gone rogue."
"I know, and I'm so sorry, darling. But I promise, I'm alright, and we'll tell you everything that happened" Bucky says and presses a kiss to your lips. You melt into it for a second before remembering about the occupants in the next room over.
"Come on, mind as well get this over with." He says quietly into your ear and wraps your hand in his. He leads you to the living room and to in front of the fireplace to face everyone.
"Alright, this is Alexei, Ava, Yelena, and Bob." Bucky introduces them to you. "And him as well," he quickly nods over to John, not wanting to draw too much of your attention to the man that you loath. And boy, does Bucky understand, but nows not the time.
Yelena does a little awkward wave. "Alright. Would someone like to inform me what the hell exactly happened?" You cross your arms and lean against the fireplace mantle.
They all glance at each other before Yelena sighs and sits up straighter, starting to summarize everything that happened to them up to when Bucky met them and blew up Alexie's limo. At that you look at your husband with a raised brow before Yelena continues, the others popping in at times as well.
Once everyone was finished explaining the events leading up to them arriving here, you pinch the bridge of your nose and quietly groan. "Valentina? As in the same woman from three years ago, is behind this whole thing?"
You get multiple nods and 'yeah's from the group. "Wonderful. Well, next time you plan to see her, bring me with. I have a thing or two to say...or do" the ex spy in you is coming out.
"Does he usually fall asleep like that" you're attention is drawn to Bob who is asleep with his head resting on the back couch cushioning. "Uh, he's been through a lot." Ava says.
"Okay, yeah," you sigh, "Well, down the hall are some bedrooms. You guys look like you need to clean up and some sleep yourselves." You point down the hall to your right.
"Thank you" Yelena nods, the rest of them saying thanks as well before standing and going down the hall. Though John goes over to lift Bob. "Don't bother, he can stay in the couch, he seems peaceful" you tell him, trying to fight off the growl even though technically the man was doing something sweet (ish).
He relents and nods, not wanting to get into a fight with you at this time, knowing he won't win. You go over to the younger man and have him lay down more comfortably on the couch with a pillow, as well as draping one of the throw blankets over him.
"Though if you break anything, I will personally come after you" you call down the hallway before going upstairs to your bedroom with Bucky.
"You're very authoritative. It's good, they actually listened to you" he says once you guys get to your shared room.
"That's cause I'm such an amazing person" you smirk. But a moment later, you smack your husband upside the head. "What was that for?" He asks, surprised at the action, not like it hurt that much anyways.
"For worrying me. And for the stupid shit you did" you say before kissing him softly.
#thunderbolts#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x wife reader#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky barnes x female reader#the winter soldier#yelena belova#red guardian#bob#sentry#john walker#captain america#ava#ghost#thunderbolts fic#marvel#mcu#imagines#writing#fanfic#alexei
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Thunderbolts headcanons:
•Everyone who was in the vault likes to yell cucumber at random times. John is the worst offender. He will do it just to startle Bob. He is *absolutely* trying to bring Sentry out just to fix the shield. Bob has now fallen off the couch multiple times. Yelena has now hit John with his own shield.
•Yelena accidentally switches Bob's name and the guinea pig's name sometimes.
•Bob really likes Taylor Swift's evermore and folklore.
•Kate comes over to hang out, and Yelena points at the cutlery drawer and goes, "See? More forks than people. Like normal humans." Everyone else is very confused by this. Yelena does this every time.
•Everyone keeps making divorce jokes to Bucky about Sam. It doesn't matter that they're not actually a couple. Not one bit.
•If they ever meet, Joaquin and Bob become instant friends. Many jokes are made at their expense(mostly by Sam) about them being two different flavors of Florida man. Joaquin gets them into incredibly stupid situations. Bob panics and calls Yelena.
•Bob has accidentally called Yelena "mom." They both froze.
•Bob will read pretty much anything you put in front of him. He has read everything from classics to cheap romance novels.
•Everyone has called Alexei "dad" at some point. Even Bucky.
•Speaking of, Alexei refers to Yelena, Ava, and Bob as "his gorgeous daughters and his very strong son."
#libby writes#bob reynolds#john walker#ava starr#yelena belova#alexei shostakov#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#kate bishop#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts headcanons#thunderbolts#*new avengers#new avengers#avengerz
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After Midnight (Bob Reynolds x female superhero!reader)
Pairing: Bob Reynolds/Robert Reynolds/the Sentry/the Void x female superhero!reader
Part two out now!!! Read here
Summary: You're out with the team when some dude starts acting like an ass. Bob helps you get away and takes you home to show you how a lady should be treated...
Rated E for explicit - Minors do not interact!!
CW: physical violence (bar brawl); the void showing up for a second there; some hints at sexual harrassment/assault (no on page rape!); Bob dancing with reader; fluff; half of this is smut (first time reader and Bob sleep together; oral/female and male receiving; fingering, p in v sex (protected); multiple orgasms) [i think i need a pastor]; minor thunderbolts* spoiler warning bc this is set after the film
Word count: 10.6k words (and I thought the last one was a long one, LOL)
Masterlist
[A/N #1: Got the idea for this on the drive home from my parents' place while listening to After Midnight by Chappel Roan, so here you go]
[A/N #2: thank you to @scuttle-buttle for cheering me on and reading through this!!! Dedicating this to you, babes🫰🏻]
The music was blasting over the speakers, and you could feel the beat in every cell of your body. The team had decided to go out that night, needing a break from training and recon-missions and the same old day-in-and-day-out of the last few weeks. While the guys had stayed back at the bar, Ava and Yelena had pulled you into the center of the dance floor, telling you to put yourself out there and have some fun for once. You knew that they were right. It had been a while since you forgot about work and everything that came with first being one of Val's shadow ops and then becoming part of what Val intended to become the new Avengers.
Even after a few months, the title still didn't feel right. It was just too loaded with expectations, with ideas and opinions about who you should be, what you should or shouldn't do. You guys weren't shiny and new. You were rough around the edges, with problems and your own past full of mistakes and regrets. You all had things you'd like to forget or wished to have gone up in flames with every little detail Val put in that vault.
Being called the "new Avengers" felt like stepping into footsteps not only way too big to fill, but also just the wrong shape to begin with. It was like trying to match the tracks of bears with those of lions. You were a different species of heroes - and even calling yourself heroes felt wrong somehow. You were too familiar with being the bad guys, with having your stories twisted, being used for whatever wrong someone wanted done without getting their own hands dirty. But now, you were supposed to be the ones stopping the bad guys, to fight the guys you were made out to be before.
So, this night out felt like the right call for multiple reasons. It was good for forgetting about work, but also for getting to know each other outside of work settings. You'd lived with them for months and knew everything about who preferred what guns, who would do what whenever you were out on missions but whenever you came home, you'd retreat into your own spaces, resting and trying to figure out where you all fit into whatever Val had in mind when she called the press on you and announced her new team of superheroes come to save the world.
~~~
Earlier that evening, while putting on that one dress in the back of your wardrobe, you could hear your mother's voice in the back of your head, telling you not to dress this provocatively. To be a good girl and cover yourself before the Lord's eyes. You felt the anger you'd repressed for so long bubble back up inside of you. Images of the time before you ran away from home came rushing back in.
The front lawns of the neighbourhood peppered with signs with psalms and verses written on them. Crosses in every room of the house you’d grown up in. The metal rods and mosquito nets outside the windows to “keep evil out” but, in all honesty, they were there to keep you from climbing out the windows in the middle of the night. Memories of everything your parents tried to make you believe about the virtues of life and how to be a pious girl and a good servant of the Lord.
You could feel the bile rise, thinking back to the person they had tried to turn you into.Their attempts to marry you off to some boy from the community. Michael Dawson. A good boy, named after the archangel. A god-fearing boy just barely old enough to drive a car. In the year before your parents had told you about their plans, you had barely exchanged two sentences with him. But still, it was blatantly obvious to everyone who looked at him and at the way he looked at Paul for even a second, that this probably wouldn’t have been the happy and sacred marriage your parents had envisioned for you.
When the blip first happened, it felt like you were set free from everything you hated so much. With your family gone, there was nothing holding you back from leaving the community while the rest turned to prayers and service. Just having turned 18 a couple of weeks ago, you’d grabbed the keys to your father’s truck and never looked back.
You caught a look of yourself in the mirror and thought about how far you'd come in the last 8 years. How much distance you'd put between your old life and this new one - regardless of how lost you still felt sometimes. You thought about how you moved to the big city and took up self-defense classes after a close call on your way home from work one night. How powerful you felt once you’d realised you loved to fight and get stronger both physically and mentally. That now, there was very little that you couldn’t get through because you didn’t have to rely on prayers anymore.
You pulled the dress down in the front, revealing more cleavage, and adjusted how your breasts sat in the built-in cups. The thought of your mother’s jaw falling to the floor at the sight of you in this get up, her hands doing quick work to bless herself, sent a smirk to your lips. You smoothed out the dress, letting your hands dance over the sides of your body while you admired yourself. The tightness of the dress, hugging you in just the right places, the skirt just long enough to cover the ass that you trained so hard for. Reapplying the dark red lipstick, you smacked your lips in a playful manner and ran your hand through your locks before leaving your room and joining the others in the common area of your shared apartment.
You could still hear the whistles Walker had sent your way, adding an approving 'looking good, [y/l/n]' after standing up straighter and looking you up and down. You rolled your eyes at him while you put your purse over your shoulder, and then adjusted the leather jacket thrown over your am.
"You clean up nice, too, I guess," you retorted and looked around the group.
Ava and Yelena had put themselves into their best party outfits as well, wearing a knowing smirk while putting up both thumbs, respectively. When your eyes landed on Bob, you could see a faint pink tint to his cheeks, and he quickly averted your gaze, nodding vigorously.
"Yeah, you look really nice... Really... nice, yeah!" He cleared his throat, the blush deepening a few shades. His jaw clenched and you smiled to yourself, having secretly hoped he'd like the way you'd dressed up.
When you'd first met him in the vault those few months ago, in the scrubs that seemed three sizes too big for him, he looked like a helpless puppy, his blue eyes so big and excited at what he'd stumbled into - literally. But then, when you saw what he was capable of, both as the Sentry and the Void and your interest in him grew. He was no longer just the sad, helpless puppy but something more intriguing. Someone with layers that you wanted to uncover one at a time.
After first moving to New York and into the Watchtower with the others, there weren't many chances for you two to interact, to get to know each other better. But when it became more and more obvious that he wasn't ready to be sent out into missions with the rest of the team just yet, you came up with the idea of rotating who would stay at home with him. The rest of the team welcomed the idea of it and so, whenever someone wasn't needed for the mission, they'd try and help Bob figure out how to channel his inner Sentry without also summoning the Void with it. Or they'd bake cakes or make dinner for when the others came back.
You'd stayed back with him two times at that point but every time you asked if he wanted to join you for a gym session or for a swim in the new pool, he'd come up with excuses. Saying he'd sprained his ankle the last time he was working out with Bucky or that he'd just done his daily laps in the morning and was looking forward to reading that one book he didn't have the chance to get to yet. The first time around, you figured he was just a little anti-social and needed some more time to get comfortable but then you heard about how Yelena had gotten him to punch the punching bag so forcefully that it came off the hinges and flew to the other side of the gym and how even Walker could convince him to try some new technique to compartmentalise.
When he declined your invitation to watch a movie the second time you stayed behind, you grew weary, scared that you'd done something wrong or that he just simply didn't like you at all. That the interest you had in him wasn’t reciprocated. But, seeing him blush at the sight of you all dolled up set the tiny bit of hope you still had ablaze once more. On the way to the bar, you caught yourself disengaging from the conversation, coming up with ideas or ways to get him on his own, hoping that he’d be more forthcoming once he had a drink or two in him.
~~~
The feeling of arms slipping around your waist brought you back to the bar and to the song you were mindlessly singing along to. Hands were moving down to your waist, holding onto you as you swayed your hips from side to side. Your eyes travelled down your figure, thinking that maybe it was one of the guys playing a trick on you but then you didn't recognise the tattoos winding up the left forearm and into the rolled up sleeves. Your head turned to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of you had come up behind you but you couldn’t quite make out who it was, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach.
Looking around for the girls, you saw that Ava and Yelena had gone back over to the bar, probably to get you guys some drinks. Also sitting at the bar, you made out Walker, Bob and Bucky - the latter engaged in a conversation with some girl desperately trying to get his number from the way she pushed her phone into his direction, a bright smile on her lips, despite the restrained expression on his face and him shaking his head repeatedly, pushing her phone back every time it made contact with his chest.
Wildly gesticulating with every fiber of his being, Walker was talking to Bob, who was staring into the glass in front of him. You weren’t sure if he was just lost in thought or if he had one too many was getting overwhelmed by the loud music and people pushing past him in the crowded bar, his face inattentive to what Walker was talking about and his shoulders slumped. His gaze wandered over to you, as if he’d felt your eyes on him, and then to the guy behind you, his jaw clenching tightly. Just as quickly as his eyes had met yours, they were back on the remnants of whatever drink he had been musing before, his knuckles turning white in the dim light.
The arms around your hip pulled you back, bringing your attention back to the dancefloor, and you felt a very clammy shirt press into your shoulders before the smell of cheap alcohol mixed with even cheaper breath mints filled your nostrils. Your whole body tensed, when the guy’s right hand travelled back up your side and stopped just under your breast for a second, before moving to the front and up to your neck.
"Hey, Mama, you alone here," the voice slurred questioning, hot breath hitting your ear and neck, and sending goosebumps down your body. His hand was slowly wrapping around your neck and made you turn your head again. Out the corner of your eye, you could clock the name tag on his shirt, making out ‘Sam’ written in cursive stitches.
Feeling your throat close up from the stinging aroma of the cheap liquor he must've bathed in, you tried to push Sam’s arms off of your body, scratching at his skin. But his grip didn’t budge one bit, only growing tighter, his nails digging in through the fabric of your dress and into your neck.
Your desperate pleas for him to let go of you seemed to be useless, lost to the loud music coming from the speakers in every corner of the dance floor. But you couldn't get anything out above a feeble whisper, tears brimming in your eyes while snippets of the last time you went to a bar raced through your brain.
"Why are you so tense? Let's have some fun, baby," Sam pushed and started to grind into you from behind, his dick getting harder with every move, pressing into your behind.
Again, you looked around for the rest of the team, hoping someone would notice your struggle and come over to help. But Ava and Yelena were nowhere to be seen, and Walker must’ve gone out to get some fresh air with Bucky because they weren’t where you had last seen them either. The only team member you could still make out was Bob, sitting at the bar with his back turned to you, waving down the bartender for another drink.
Realising you were on your own in this one, you tried to turn around, to get some leverage on him and were just able to turn your face away when he leant down and tried to press a kiss to your lips.
“I told you to leave me be,” you repeated forcefully, your flat hand landing on his cheek in a satisfying slap.
An urgent cry left your mouth, then, and the force behind your shove grew stronger, pushing Sam away from you and making him lose his balance. He stumbled back a step or two before he caught himself again, glaring at you.
He pushed up his sleeves again and started to come at you, an evil sneer on his face.
"What's your fucking problem, bitch,” he spat and looked you up and down, stepping closer slowly.
“You dress like that, and then you turn into a prude when -"
He was cut off short when a fist met his jaw and threw him into the people surrounding you, a tooth and a spray of blood flying from his mouth. You looked at who had landed that blow, still unable to fully comprehend what had just happened.
To your right, there stood Bob, his mouth hanging open a bit and his eyes glowing a dangerous golden colour. You hadn't noticed him getting up from the bar and coming over, but you were deeply grateful for him doing so, scared of what would've happened if he hadn't stepped in.
When he realised what he'd done, he shook his head slightly, the blue returning to his eyes once more, and he got ready to fight. With his fists raised in front of his face, he waited for the other guy to get back up again.
“What do you want, you limp noodle of a man, huh? You just got lucky with that one, fella.” The other guy pointed at Bob before spitting blood onto the light-up dance floor and cracking his neck, walking up to Bob. When he was still a few steps from him, Bob threw another punch, this time with even more force behind it and knocking Sam right out. There was a dark air around him, blackness enveloping his fist and travelling up his arm right before your eyes.
“She told you to leave her alone, asshat,” the Void growled, his voice several shades darker than that of Bob.
Looking at the limp figure before him for a split second, the Void went back in, throwing punch after punch, the black hand glistening from what must have been even more blood. Scared of what he’d do to Sam, you tried pulling Bob off of him, whispering into his ear that it was enough and for him to come back to you.
“Bob, please. He’s down already”, you begged and finally got enough strength to drag him away. Cupping his face, you tried to get Bob to focus on you and the black started to recede from his arms, his bloody hand cradling your face in return. It took a moment for the blue to return to his eyes again, for his jaw to unclench and the deep frown to relax a little.
"Are you ok, [y/n]?” Bob’s voice had gotten softer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of lasting harm.
"Yeah, I think I just need some fresh air," you murmured and held onto his shirt, your legs feeling like jell-o all of a sudden.
Bob wrapped a protective arm around your back when he felt you dip against his stature and pulled you closer, his eyes going to somewhere behind you. He gulped loudly and you looked over your shoulder at what he’d seen.
"You two!" The security guard pointed at you and Bob, and then motioned for you to get out of there.
"Congrats, you just earned yourself a no-return ticket out of this bar," the guard added, and Bob started sputtering, trying to argue about how Sam had started it, how he was just trying to protect you and that Sam should be the one getting kicked out of the bar instead. Picking up the bloody mess that the Void had turned Sam into, the security guard started for the door, looking over his shoulder as if waiting for us to follow him.
"Oh, don't worry, he's going with you!" The guard pushed Bob towards the back exit, Bob's shoulders slumping a little before making his way out of the group of onlookers, pulling you with him by the hand. You intertwined your fingers with his, trying not to lose him while pushing through the mass.
"Our friends are still inside," you tried when you got outside, but the security guard wouldn't have any of it, telling you 'life sucks' and 'better luck next time' while propping Sam up against the wall of the back alley. Without another word, he made for the back entrance before the door fell shut on him, and then disappeared into the turmoil inside the bar.
Looking around the dark alleyway, Bob scoffed before turning towards you, an angry look on his face.
"What a dick!"
You just shrugged your shoulders and felt tears well up in your eyes again, the shock of the situation wearing down and the fear taking over once more. When you tugged at his hand, Bob looked down, realising he was holding your hand, fingers intertwined, and let go before scratching the back of his head.
"Sorry, I didn't realise..."
He wiped his hands on his shirt, the blood staining the white shirt he was wearing under the flannel, and apologised again. When the first tears started to roll down your cheeks, a sob left your mouth and pulled his gaze back to you. His eyes widened in shock and his jaw went slack again, his brows knitting together in a regretful frown.
"Oh, no... I didn't mean to... [y/n], please don't cry..." He came up to you and cupped your cheeks, looking into your eyes deeply before wrapping his arms around you tightly. "I'm sorry... I just get really clammy hands whenever I feel... overwhelmed… And well, the blood and all…"
The embrace was warm, his arms feeling like a protective blanket wrapping around you, shielding you from any more harm. You sidled up to him, relishing in the comfort the hug offered against the cold air of night-time New York in early December. You stayed wrapped in his arms for a second, silent tears rolling down your cheeks while you tried to gather yourself, listening to the faint sound of his heart beating rapidly.
When you heard the groggy groans of the figure behind you, you tensed again and looked up at Bob, his face breaking further when he saw your tear-stained cheeks.
"Can you please get me out of here," you begged, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, and he nodded quickly before letting one arm fall down from its place around your frame and cupping your cheek.
"Yeah, sure. Just tell me where to," he affirmed, wiping away the latest tears with the pad of his thumb. When he realised that you were shivering, he shimmied out of his flannel, wrapping it around your shoulders and mumbling ‘here, this should keep you warm’ under his breath.
"Just take me home, please." You pulled the soft fabric around you tighter, the warm scent of cedarwood and vanilla mixed with his own warm smell enveloping your senses.
He nodded again and turned towards the exit of the alleyway, his right arm wrapping around your shoulder again while he led you towards the main street.
~~~
You guys spent the first few minutes of your walk in silence, not sure how to make conversation after what had happened.
That was until you were stood at a red light and Bob turned towards you, his arm having fallen from around you a few blocks ago.
"I'm sorry, I got us kicked out of the bar," he apologised and put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, the uneasy look from earlier making its way back onto his face, knitting his eyebrows together and making him pull his bottom lip between his teeth.
"You really seemed to have a good time until that fucker turned up," Bob went on and you shrugged, the fun from earlier already a distant memory in the racing tornado of thoughts wreaking havoc in your mind.
"It was alright", your voice was low and you kicked at the burger wrapping left behind on the sidewalk, hoping you'd be able to boot the haunting images of past trauma away with it.
"Maybe it's stupid, but I kinda wanted to dance with you up there", Bob admitted, looking off towards the traffic light on the other side of the crossing.
His fingers were mindlessly fidgeting with the brand label at the hem of his shirt, a nervous habit you had observed so often when you were around him. When his gaze met yours, the small smile playing on his lips sent butterflies to your stomach, a warmth you hadn't felt in ages rushing up your arms and down your back.
"You looked really beautiful, you know. In the lights, lost to the music. Like you were somewhere else entirely and you didn't have a care in the world", he added, a chuckle at the end of his sentence, and his eyes sparkled, reflecting the cool light of the headlights lining the street.
"I would have liked that", you admitted, offering him a warm smile in return before turning your attention to the changing traffic light indicating you were allowed to cross the street.
“You wouldn’t have enjoyed that for long though,” he replied, chuckling to himself again, before looking over to where you were walking by his side. “I am a really terrible dancer. Like… I’ve totally got two left feet. Just the thought makes me feel sorry for your toes.”
He struck a pose and wiggled his butt to imaginary music when he reached the sidewalk, looking over his shoulder at you with his bottom lip between his teeth and trying his best to look seductive.
This had you laughing loudly then, holding onto his arm for support and putting your head against his shoulder, your eyes closing in appreciation.
“Thank you! I really needed that right now, Bob,” you got out between laughs and grinned up at him, the butterflies in your stomach making you feel like you were 14 all over again.
“Always at your service, m’lady.” He bowed and winked at you before continuing his way down the street, pulling you with him by the hand.
~~~
“Ok, so, I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick, but how about we put on some music after and have that dance party”, you suggested, walking through the elevator doors and looking over your shoulder at Bob, who had an easy smile on his face, his cheek a healthy shade of pink from all the laughing.
He put his arms out and grabbed a hold of the lapelles of the flannel you were still wearing, pulling you back closer to him before wrapping his arms around your frame in a tight hug. You snuggled up to him, ignoring the bloody streaks on his shirt and buried your head against his chest.
“What’s that for,” you asked, looking up at him from under your lashes and trying to keep yourself from blushing at the softness in his eyes.
“I just felt like hugging you, that’s all,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “You looked so cuddly in the dim light, wrapped up in my flannel.”
The words left his mouth quietly, barely above a whisper and when he realised he’d said it aloud, his eyes grew wide, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in a thick gulp. After trying to find the right words to reply to this and coming up empty, you pushed up on your tiptoes and put a quick kiss on his cheek. Scared you took it too far, you wriggled out of the embrace and turned to the general direction of your bedroom, leaving Bob standing near the elevator, his fingers repeatedly running over the spot that you had just kissed, his eyes glued to where you had just stood and his mouth opening and closing rapidly.
“Remember, dance party in the living room in ten minutes,” you yelled over your shoulder and vanished in your bedroom.
~~~
You connected your phone to the speakers in the living room, sneaking up to Bob sitting on the couch and wrapped your arms around his neck, a giant grin playing at your lips.
“Ready to dance, Bob,” you whispered in his ear cheekily, drawing out his name and letting your hands run down his chest while your towel dried hair fell around you.
He grabbed your wrists and pulled you over the back of the couch swiftly, making you land with your head in his lap, his hand quickly moving to your hip to keep you from rolling off the couch.
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he joked and pulled you up with him, his arm wrapped around you and letting his hand rest on the small of your back.
“Well, if you dance anything like what you showed me down on that street corner, I’m in for a hell of a time.” You pulled your phone from the pocket of the shorts you had gotten into after the shower and looked through your playlist for a good song to start with.
“Here, I think this will be a good one,” you mumbled, choosing ‘Me because of You’ by the Faim, and wiggled your eyebrows at him playfully, when the song started playing over the speakers.
“Ok, I think I can work with this,” he said, nodding his head and moving the coffee table off to the side to make more room for us to have fun. He stretched his arms and cracked his neck, starting with a simple step-touch and moving his shoulders to the beat of the song.
You studied him for a second, suddenly a little scared of what he might think of you if you just let loose and have fun. He motioned for you to come closer and you followed his request, stepping closer and trying to keep from laughing, when he faked licking his pointer and pinky and smoothing his eyebrows over.
“Come on, you can’t hold back now, [y/n],” he yelled over the music and pulled me closer right when the song said ‘dance with me, feel the beat, follow my lead’. He placed your hands on his shoulders and then put his hands on your waist again, starting to waltz with you for a whole two seconds before both of you burst out laughing.
“You wanted to dance with me. So, dance, love,” he added and moved his body to the beat again.
“I’m nervous,” you confessed, running your hands over the clean shirt he put on while you were in the shower, and looked at him, biting your lip restlessly.
“Close your eyes and just imagine I’m not here. You’re alone in your room where no one can see you. And then do what you do,” he tried, brushing a strand of towel dried hair out of your face.
“If it helps, I can close my eyes, too,” he offered and put his hands over his eyes, peeking through his fingers.
“Fine,” you grumbled and moved away from him a little, turning your back on him but then looking back over your shoulder to make sure he had his eyes covered.
When you saw that he really wasn’t peeking, you started to move and smiled to yourself, feeling the music take over your body and jumping up and down giddily. After a few seconds, you started to sing along and moved freely, turning around and shimmying your shoulders and nodding your head.
“Are you doing it? Are you dancing,” he asked, still covering his eyes but moving his hips to the beat.
You peeled his hands from his eyes and pulled him into the middle of the carpet, making him stumble over his own feet. He opened one eye, looking at your dancing figure, and you tried to hide the smirk playing at your lips. He joined in with dancing and pursed his lips, concentrating on his moves so as not to stumble over his own feet again.
When the chorus started to play for the last time, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer again, and started swaying with you, his head on top of yours. He intertwined his fingers with yours and then moved away from you, extending his arms before stepping in again. He threw your arms over his shoulders and stepped past you before turning around quickly, to repeat this spiel another time, though instead of simply stepping past you, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, swaying from side to side.
Bob sang along to the words, his voice in your ear as his head dipped down a little and then he spun you around and caught you in his arms again more masterfully than he had led on to believe before.
“Tonight, I’ve changed, yeah. I’m only me because of you.” He put his cheek against yours and hummed happily, picking you up and twirling you around.
When the song had ended, he held you in place, your forehead resting against his. His gaze was moving back and forth between your eyes and your lips, his breath having grown a little shallow. You could feel his hand travel up your side and then caress your cheek, his face coming closer until you could feel his shallow breath on your lips, the tips of your noses just millimeters away from each other.
Expecting him to close the last bit of distance, you closed your eyes and turned your head upwards a little, your heart beating rapidly inside your chest. The moments until he finally put his lips to yours felt like an eternity, millions of thoughts running through your brain, the anticipation of what it’d feel like to kiss him raising goosebumps across your body. When he finally closed the distance and kissed you, his lips were soft, moving against yours slowly at first and then you deepened the kiss, moving your hand to the back of his head. Your other hand ran up his chest, feeling his pecs flex under your touch.
When your teeth sank into his bottom lip, he let out a soft moan and you slipped your tongue into his mouth, exploring it carefully and moving your tongue in sync with his. His hand grabbed a fistful of your shirt and he moved you back over to the couch, letting you drop into his lap when the couch hit the back of his legs and he sat down.
You straddled him, your left arm wrapping around him to hold onto the backrest to keep you from falling into him, while your right hand ran through the hair at the back of his head, pulling on it softly, when one of his hands moved up the outside of your thigh to your hip.
He pulled away from you for a second, trying to catch his breath, his mouth hanging open a little while he searched your eyes for any sign of regret. When he couldn’t find any but instead realised that your mouth had split into a bright smile, he chuckled cheerfully and kissed you again hungrily.
With the kisses getting more and more heated, you started grinding into him, the aching need for feeling him closer growing in the pit of your stomach. When you rolled your hips a little extra hard, he groaned deeply and the grip of his hand on your hip grew stronger, a pleasant pain running up your spine and making you throw your head back.
His lips went to your neck, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses on the soft skin and then he started sucking on the pulse point underneath your ear, biting and licking and driving you into overdrive. The fingers buried in his hair pulled on his locks and his growing bulge started to rub up against you just the right way when he bucked his hips in response.
“We… should probably…”, he started in between kisses and you nodded mindlessly, trying to get as much friction from grinding down into him harder.
“Fuck, [y/n], ok, wait…” He stopped you from moving your hips by wrapping his arm around you and pulling you impossibly close, and then made you look him in the eyes before going on: “I can’t do it like this… If I have you, I want all of you.”
You gulped at this, realising he wasn’t joking and felt your jaw go slack.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, but I will not let this be how I have you for the first time.” His thumb caressed your cheek and he kissed you softly, his forehead falling to yours, probably fighting the urge to just have you right then and there.
“Then take me to your room, Bob,” you mumbled breathlessly when he pulled away again, nuzzling your face with his in a love-drunken state. You placed soft kisses all over his face, earning a little chuckle from him, when you moved down to his neck, his head falling back to give you more room to work with.
“[y/n], god, you drive me crazy,” he moaned and let his hands slip underneath your shirt, sending shivers down your spine from the tiny sparks his touch left on your skin. Letting out a ‘mh-hm’ in response, you ran your thumb over his bottom lip and kissed him again, your tongue slipping into his mouth easily.
His hands went down your back and held onto your ass when he picked you up in one smooth motion, your legs wrapping around his hips to gain more stability. Your arms snaked around his neck and a chuckle escaped your mouth when he stumbled over the couch on his way out of the living room, holding you in space with one arm while he steadied himself.
“How about we stop kissing until we’re actually in your bedroom,” you joked and he nodded, telling you ‘that’s a good idea’ before making his way over to his bedroom, his steps quick and assertive.
“Wait, we still have to turn off the music,” you realised when you were halfway down the hallway and Bob stopped dead in his tracks, sighing heavily. He looked back over his shoulder and you could see the cogs work behind his eyes, trying to decide what to do.
“Ok, you go turn off the music and I’ll get everything ready?”
Setting you down on the floor, he pecked your lips and then slapped your ass, making you jump a little and hurry back to the living room. You made quick work of turning off the music and grabbing your phone, eager to get back to Bob and what you were doing, running back down the hallway to where his bedroom was. Sliding in through the door, you stopped when you saw that Bob was on the phone with someone, holding up a finger to you just as you wanted to ask what was wrong.
“Oh, no, y’all can stay out longer. No… No. [y/n] wasn’t feeling too hot, so I took her home.” He looked at the floor for a second, scratching his head while trying to understand Yelena over the thumping music on the other side of the line. “I think she’s sleeping already. No… I don’t think she’ll mind! Go have fun, you guys,” he added and then ended the call after telling Yelena goodbye.
“Is everything ok,” you enquired, walking up to him and putting your phone on his desk, the screen lighting up and showing you had a couple of missed calls from Yelena and Ava. He matched you and put his phone down next to yours, before turning back to you and searching your face for a second.
“Yeah, they were just worried where we went and because they couldn’t reach us earlier.”
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and brushing the hair from the slope of your neck, adding a ‘so, where were we’ before running his fingers over the soft skin under your chin.
“Are they coming back already?” You asked, your head falling back when Bob started to kiss your neck.
“No, there’s this party at another bar they wanna check out.” He bit your neck playfully and then nuzzled the side of your face, telling you that the two of you should be in the clear for the next few hours. He picked you up again and walked over to his bed, dropping you in the middle of the mattress before climbing onto the mattress and kneeling down between your legs.
“Next few hours? What do you have planned,” you asked cheekily, your hands working on taking off his shirt.
“I’m gonna take my time with you, love,” he replied, helping you to get him out of his shirt and kissing you passionately.
Your fingertips ran over his abs and up into his hair again and you pulled him down with you, moaning when his hips settled between yours like puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.
“God, you sound so good when you moan,” he whined desperately, his hand caressing your cheek and then running through your hair. “You sound so much better than I could ever imagine.”
“You imagined how I’d sound?” Your voice was barely a whisper, too much anticipation and desire clouding your brain already. The building tension in your core was painful at this point and you could feel your arousal gathering between your legs.
“More often than I’d like to admit, yes.” His kisses were growing hungrier with every passing second, his hands running down your sides, pulling at the fabric of your shirt and digging into the bare skin of your legs. He wanted to feel your skin and memorise every inch of it, having wanted to touch you for months now.
“What did you picture,” you asked, flipping you over and straddling his hips again, pulling your shirt over your head and grinding your hips into his rhythmically. His eyes were wandering over your torso, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before he sat up and wrapped his arms around you to work on undoing your bra. When he’d opened the clasp in the back, he slipped the straps down your shoulders, kissing the freckles that dusted your skin there.
“The way you’d sound… How you’d taste…” He pulled your face closer, his fingers on your chin, and placed his lips on yours again, this time slow and deep. His other hand came up to your right breast and cupped it, running his thumb over your nipple hardening from the relative cold in the room. “How you’d look taking me. The way your face breaks when I make you cum…”
He bucked his hips, his clothed erection pushing up into your clit and you gasped, running your fingernails over his abs, your head falling forwards to rest on his shoulder. You moved your hips with his, the layered fabric of your shorts and panties rubbing up against your core with every thrust of his hips. It had been a while since you last were intimate with someone, so you could already feel the knot in your lower stomach begin to tighten, your breath hitching when Bob’s tongue licked over your sensitive nipple before taking your breast into his mouth.
Your hand travelled further south and you lifted your hips, dipping your fingers into the waistband of his joggers, realising he wasn’t wearing any boxers underneath when you made contact with his hot skin. Trying to meet his eyes, you lifted your eyebrows in surprise and he shrugged, letting go of your breast with a popping sound.
“Hey, a guy can hope, right,” he tried to defend himself and smirked at you, when you pushed him down onto the mattress, while your other hand slipped into his joggers fully and wrapped around his hard length. He was bigger than you’d imagined, thicker too, and at the thought of having him inside of you, your pussy started to ache deliciously and eager.
You pumped your hand up his length slowly and his eyes rolled up into his head, his jaw hanging open slightly, a string of curses and whines leaving his mouth. Seeing him enjoy your touch this much, sent you into overdrive, and you moved off his legs, pulling down his joggers with you, before throwing them to the other corner of his room. His erection sprang free and you took in the sight before you, Bob leaning on his elbows, completely naked and looking sexier than you ever dreamt up.
Running your hands through your hair, you felt your cheeks heat up and hid your face in your hands, chuckling to yourself for a second.
“What? [y/n], what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong,” he asked, worry evident in his voice while he moved to sit up a little, his hands on your shoulders.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you started and took a deep breath, letting your hands fall from your face and meeting his eyes. “It’s just been a while and I… Well, I didn’t think I’d ever end up in this situation,” you added, your eyes darting over the smile lines appearing around his eyes and the dimple in his right cheek. “I think, it just hit me that this is happening, you know?”
He nodded, understanding you perfectly well, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kissed you. His arms wrapped around your shoulders and he laid you down gently, settling between your legs. You deepened the kiss, running your left hand through his dark locks while your right hand travelled down his back and settled on his hips. You wrapped one of your legs around his hip and smiled into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his skin on your own.
“Like I said, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. And we can take our time, there’s no rush. Not tonight,” he murmured against your lips, his forehead resting on yours between soft kisses.
“I want you, Bob,” you whispered, searching his eyes, the blue of them having darkened by lust. “I want all of you.”
His face split into a bright grin and he let his head fall to the crook of your neck, hiding his own nervousness by peppering your skin with kisses again. His left hand moved down your side and to the leg wrapped around his hip as he angled his hip a little, his erection brushing up against your core again. You moaned softly and tried to meet him better, your leg snaking around him more tightly.
“If we’re really gonna do this, then we’re gonna do this right,” Bob said, his voice darker than before and sending shivers down your spine.
He pulled away from you, his fingertips moving to the waistband of your shorts and he pulled them down your legs, your panties coming off with them. Bob tossed them over to where his joggers had landed and spread your legs slowly, taking you in and biting on his bottom lip, his eyes sparkling in the dim light from his bedside lamp. He let his fingers dance over the inside of your legs, drawing loose shapes on your skin from your ankles up to your hips and then grabbed one of his pillows from above your head. You lifted your hips and he put the pillow under your ass, settling between your legs and looking at you intently from under his lashes.
“You sure you wanna do this? You can say no or stop me at any time,” he assured you and you nodded, biting down on the knuckle of your index finger in anticipation, butterflies making somersaults in your tummy. He lowered his head and blew on you, earning himself a low whimper from you, the air feeling cold against your wet pussy. He ran a finger up between your folds and chuckled, sending vibrations through your core from how close his mouth was to your center.
“God, you’re already so wet and I haven’t even done anything.”
His finger slipped into your vagina with ease and the squelching sound that was heard by him pulling it out again, made the blush on your cheeks deepen. He pushed his finger back in and then curled it, making you moan his name loudly as he brushed your g-spot. He repeated this a couple of times while his tongue ran along the outside of your folds, slowly making its way inwards. When he finally ran the tip of his tongue up your folds and flicked your clit, your hips bucked, another moan falling from your lips, having him hum in response.
“You taste so good, babe.” He lapped at you and then slowed down again, the tip of his tongue circling your clit and then flicking it with a masterful tab, sending sparks up your spine and making your toes curl. Your fingers buried into his locks again and you pulled on them, pulling him closer in an attempt to get even more friction.
“Mhm, do you like that,” he asked, meeting your gaze and smirking cheekily.
“Yeah, feels good, Bob,” you moaned, your head falling back down and your eyes rolling back when he removed his finger from your hole and circled your pussy with the tip of his tongue. Then, he added another finger up, running them through your folds and back down towards your vagina before thrusting them in, this time a little more forcefully.
You yelped in surprise and pulled on his hair, your legs going a little numb. He waited to move his fingers for a second, looking down at how his fingers had disappeared in you completely and then pulled them back out a bit, curling the same way he did before, brushing over your g-spot again. When he’d found a good rhythm that had you breathing heavily, the knot tightening in your stomach, he put his mouth on you again and pushed you over the edge, your toes curling while your legs tensed around his head. One of your hands left his head to move to the bedsheets, gripping it hard as pleasure rushed over your body like a tidal wave.
“Fuck, Bob, you feel so good.”
You were writhing under him, Bob relentlessly licking up your juices while you clawed at his shoulders and rode the highs of the orgasm coursing through your body. The wet noises of his fingers pumping in and out of you filled your ears and you felt another wave of the orgasm rain down on you when his teeth scraped over your sensitive nub before flicking it again with his tongue. You could feel your walls clamp down around his fingers and then heard him chuckle deeply, before his arm pushed down on your hips, keeping you in place.
He kept at it, fingering you and eating you out, only coming up from between your legs when you started to come down from the high, your breath still rushed and shallow. You ran your hand through your hair, and looked at him, moving up your body, his lips glistening from your arousal and his spit mixed together. He put his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off of them, closing his eyes in ecstasy and the corners of his mouth pulling up in a smile, after he pulled his fingers out again.
“God, that was so hot,” he breathed, putting his lips to yours and kissing you hungrily. You nodded, deepening the kiss by slipping your tongue into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. Your hand ran down his torso and wrapped around his length again, your thumb wiping over his tip and feeling the sticky precum leaking out of him. With your brain still hazy from your recent orgasm, you pushed him down onto the mattress and started peppering kisses on his neck, moving down to his clavicle and his chest, the nails of your free hands scratching over his chest, while the other one pumped his length slowly.
When you were on the same level with his dick, you looked up at him and opened your mouth, taking him in as far as you could, your hand still wrapped around the part of him that didn’t fit into your mouth anymore. You started bobbing your head up and down his length and his fingers ran through your hair, his hand cupping the back of your head and aiding you in keeping an enjoyable rhythm, while whines and moans fell from his lips.
“Oh, fuck. You’re better than I ever imagined,” he whined, his hips bucking and his dick hit the back of your throat.
Your eyes travelled back up his figure and you opened your mouth a little further, trying to take more of him. Tears were brimming at the corners of your eyes and your own arousal started running down the inside of your leg, so you moved your free hand to your clit, rubbing yourself while sucking him off.
After a couple more bobs of your head, Bob groaned loudly, his hips tensing and his grip on your hair getting harder. His cum spilled onto your tongue and you swallowed it, humming in enjoyment, while continuing the motion of your hand pumping up and down his length. Feeling another orgasm approaching from your own fingers between your legs, you moaned, some residual cum of his running out the corner of your mouth and dripping on his length.
Biting down on your lips, you looked up at him, his mouth hanging open at the sight of you pleasuring yourself. He motioned for you to come closer, pushing your hand away from between your legs to take over while pulling you into his lap again. You rested your head against his shoulder, while his fingers were drawing circles around your clit, pushing you ever closer to the edge. You could feel that you were getting overstimulated already and whined, wanting to get the release you so desperately needed. Pulling his lips to yours and kissing him hungrily, you moved your hips a little to meet his touch, his fingers slipping into you once more while the pad of thumb brushed up against your clitoris.
“Bob, don’t stop. Please, I’m so close,” you whined, your face falling at the pressure building in your core.
“Come on, baby. Come for me,” he whispered into your ear and nibbled on your earlobe, thrusting his fingers into you deeper and curling them on their way out.
Feeling his tongue lick over your pulse point was enough to make you fall over the edge again, his fingers brushing your g-spot again and again, sparks flying between your bodies. Your nails dug into his back and you rode his fingers, moaning his name at the top of your lungs.
“God, I love it when you moan my name like that.”
He put you back down on the mattress, knowing you’d need the support of the bed beneath you, your legs having turned to jelly and shaking from all of the stimulation. Your chest was rising and falling quickly while you tried to catch your breath, absolutely exhausted from two big orgasms so close together.
“Do you need a little break,” he asked, laying down next to you and running his fingers up and down your sides. You turned your head toward his and the look on his face was so soft, caring and full of love, making your heart ache at being the object of his adoration. You nodded, still unable to form words, the last after waves of your orgasm having your ears ringing and your fingertips feeling numb.
Bob pulled you a little closer, wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead, and placed soft kisses all over your face, telling you how beautiful you were. How lucky he was to be here with you at that moment. How he never thought this would actually happen.
“You know, I thought you didn’t like me,” you told him, your voice still barely a whisper, your fingers starting to draw circles on his chest while his fingertips did the same on your shoulder blade. “That you didn’t want to spend time with me when the others were gone because you secretly hated me.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever liked anyone as much as I like you,” he said softly, his hand cupping your face and making you look at him, before going on: “I’m sorry that I made you feel like I hated you, but it is clearly the very opposite.”
He kissed you then, softly and with all the love he felt for you. Your lips melted against his and a warmth spread in your chest, creeping up the back of your neck and rolling over your legs and into your tiptoes. This kiss was different, it wasn’t hungry or desperate but still intense in its own way. Even after everything the two of you just did, you felt closer to Bob now, his arms wrapping around you tighter and flipping you on your back again, your legs intertwined lazily and his broad chest like a shield keeping you safe.
You stayed like that for a little while then, making out and exploring each other’s body slowly, your touch soft and meaningful, as if you wanted to memorise every inch of the other’s figure. You couldn’t say how long you were just lying there, enjoying each other’s presence and forgetting everything around you. It could’ve been five minutes or it could’ve been an hour but it didn’t matter to you because you were right where you wanted to be. Wrapped in his arms, having his lips on yours and feeling his delicate touch on your body.
His lips ran over your shoulders, dusting the freckles with love, while your lips grazed his collarbone, your fingers gripping his ass cheeks and earning you a high pitched giggle from him.
“Are you ticklish,” you enquired, a cheeky smirk on your lips and he shook his head vigorously, trying to push your hands off of him.
“No, of course I’m not ticklish. What makes you think that?” He rolled his eyes and tried to put a little distance between you two, his hands swatting at you trying to poke his sides.
“I don’t know. That very manly giggle that just slipped past your lips, maybe,” you teased and his jaw dropped, so threw yourself at him playfully, making him lose his balance and taking you down with him.
“I don’t know what you're talking about. What giggle?” He grinned up at you and cupped your cheek, pulling you down to him and kissing you again passionately.
With your leg thrown over his hip, you could feel him getting hard again and you moved your hips, straddling him once more. You purred softly at his length pressing up against your folds and instinctively grinded down on him, coating the underside of his dick in your arousal. Bob’s hand gripped your hip and he stopped you from moving for a second.
“Wait, I’ve got condoms in the drawer over there,” he murmured, motioning to his bedside table, and his voice broke when you rolled your hips into his again.
“I’m on the pill, so,” you started, kissing him quickly and then added: “I’m good either way.”
He looked at you and for a second, his brows knitted together in a frown. He let his thumb run over your bottom lip and you stopped moving, lifting your hips a little before leaning over to his bedside table.
“I just wanna make sure nothing unexpected happens, you know,” he started to explain and you looked over your shoulder, opening the drawer slowly.
“Bob, hey. It’s ok, really!” Your hand looked for the packet of condoms and took one out when you found it, before turning back to him. “I’m glad you wanna be safe, love.” You cupped his cheek and smiled at him, placing a quick kiss on his lips.
You opened the shiny packaging and took out the condom, turning it over in your fingers to have it the right way around. Pinching the tip of it, you looked at Bob and asked him if he was ready. When he nodded, inching closer to you, you grabbed his length and put the condom on, pushing the rubbery material down his length easily. His hand came up to caress your cheek and he kissed you softly, his fingers burying in the hair at the back of your head while you climbed onto him, straddling his hips again.
With your hand still wrapped around his length, you guided his dick along your folds and then lowered onto it, moaning at the burning sensation of his thickness stretching you slowly. Bob’s jaw dropped and he groaned at slipping into you, his teeth digging into your bottom lip. You stayed there for a second, trying to adjust to the feeling of him filling you up so well and held onto his shoulders before you lifted your hips again slowly. The delicious pain of his size slipping in and out of you made your brain go foggy and you sank down onto him with more ease this time. Picking up the pace, you threw your head back and rode Bob’s dick, his right hand on your breast, kneading the tissue while his tongue worked on the nipple of your other breast. His left hand was on your hip, guiding you as you took him.
“Mhm, you fill me up so well, Bob,” you mused and bounced on him, the pain having turned to pleasure a few thrusts ago. His mouth let go of your breast and he pulled your face down, kissing you hungrily and he bucked his hips into yours and slipping in deeper with the next thrust, bottoming out. You moaned into his mouth loudly and let a giggle fall over your lips as you noticed the familiar feeling of your orgasm nearing.
He stopped moving for a second and turned you around, so you were beneath him and then he grabbed your right leg and moved it from around his hips to have it over his shoulder instead, changing the angle at which he thrusted into you.
Bob groaned against your mouth as he bottomed out again, his balls slapping against your ass with the next thrust and you let out a moan of his name, your nails digging into his back.
“Ugh, you’re so tight, babe. Feel so good,” he slurred and went to town on you, thrusting in and pulling back out, his bed groaning under his movements.
“You gotta tell me if I’m too rough,” he whispered into your ear, enveloping you with his form and leaning on his elbow while his other hand held onto your leg.
“No, it’s good. So good, Bob,” you assured, relishing in the feeling of him filling you up to the brim and stretching you with every thrust. You knew that you were close again, the knot twisting and tightening and you reached between your bodies, your fingers working on your clit while his dick slipped in and out of you at an exquisite pace.
He looked down at where your bodies met and whined, his forehead falling to yours. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room and you were glad that the rest of the team was still out, fearing just how much they would’ve been able to hear of what you two were doing.
“[y/n], fuck, you feel so good. I don’t know how much longer I can…” The movement of his hips got a little sloppy and you kissed him again, steadying him with a hand on his ass while you tried to meet his thrusts with your hip.
“It’s ok, babe. Come, Bob. I’m right behind you,” you purred into his ear and his hips stuttered, a low groan falling from his lips. You moved your hips, helping him ride out his orgasm and kissed his closed lids, when he suddenly thrusted into you harder again, pushing you closer and over the edge.
You fell with him, your third orgasm of the night sending lighting through your whole body. You clung to his body, biting into his shoulder and scratching your nails over his back, earning a wince from him at the pain that seemed to send him into a flurry. Your walls clenched around him as your orgasm progressed and he put his lips on your neck, riding out your shared orgasm, his breathing quick and shallow.
When he came down from his high, he sighed, an exhausted but gratified look on his face, and laid down next to you. You curled up to him, throwing your arm over his chest and putting your head on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart and his quick breath.
“Did I hurt you?” The question came suddenly and you looked at him, confused at where the concern was coming from.
“Why are you asking?”
“This was my first time since the medical trial,” he started and turned onto his side, wrapping his arm around your hip.
“No, you didn’t hurt me, Bob. Quite the opposite, actually.” You caressed his cheek and kissed him softly, before adding: “I enjoyed it very much, if you couldn’t tell.”
A proud smile pushed up the corners of his mouth and he shook his head, chuckling lightheaded.
“God, you’re an incredible woman, [y/n].”
#bob reynolds#robert reynolds#the sentry#the void#bob reynolds x reader#robert reynolds x reader#the sentry x reader#the void x reader#bob reynolds smut#robert reynolds smut#the sentry smut#the void smut#lewis pullman#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts#marvel#mcu#bucky barnes#yelena belova#john walker#ava starr#marvel cinematic universe#marly's writing#marvelouslymarly's writing
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What's the point in a big hood if not to put a cat in it?
Seen talk around Ava getting a cat and been wanting to doodle something for a while. Yelena helps too ofc, they are cat mams now.
#thunderbolts#ava starr#yelena belova#starrlight#fanart#I love ava but my god I am not drawing the suit again#Also very tempted to write a fic to go with it ngl
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Thunderbolts* Headcannons
Them asking you out on a date and how they would go about doing it!
Includes Bucky, Ava, Walker, Yelana, and Bob! In that order
⋆˙⟡Bucky⟡˙⋆
He would be awkward but weridly confident. Like he would need to pysch himself up in the corner before walking over to you but would also have the idea that theres no universe in which you'll say no to him.
Its not the most romantic thing, he didn't bring flowers or a gift but he has that old timey mindset of how to do these things and that comes heavily into play.
"Would you like to go to dinner with me?" Bucky asked, a smirk on his face that for once showed no malice.
"Dinner?" You could feel your eyebrows furrowing at the simple question. Bucky was mostly distant with you, making this honestly a somewhat scary situation, but also an exciting one.
"I like you." His hand reached out to grab yours, the warm skin a contrast from what you'd expected. "And I would like to treat you to a nice evening if you'd let me." Emphasizing his words by bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss into the back of it. You knew what your answer was.
⋆˙⟡Ava⟡˙⋆
Something tells me she'd be waiting for you to ask her first, like she would be secretly staring at you and trying to egg on conversations that could potentially lead to the two of you being alone together.
If she did end up asking first, it would be out of despration or a slight outburst in the middle of a conversation. Asking is hard but she also doesn't want to risk you getting with someone else or leaving.
"I mean I have the reservation, I'll probably just ask some random tinder match to go with me ya know?" Yelena laughed along with you at your words, the topic of this stupid gifted reservation on valentines day driving you insane.
"Could take me." Ava muttered, face strained in annoyance as she stood by the both of you.
"Sorry say that again?" You asked, trying to make sure you heard her right, and you really hoped you did.
"Take me." Ava said louder this time, a tone of anger in her voice. "I'm right here, more than willing to have all the cringe romance shit you could just take me."
"I'd love to." Her face turned to one of pure shock, matching Yelenas similar expression. "You'd be the perfect date."
⋆˙⟡Walker⟡˙⋆ (Im still in the constant changing opinion of this man but I am a women of giving daydream ideas to people so enjoy)
I don't even think he asks. He's full of that surface level confidence that slowly fades the more comfortable he gets around you. His pride is intense so he just doesn't ask, he tells you.
Even with this he'll get visbily excited when you don't say no. He has an extra kick in his step when he walks away from you after it. You can't point it out until much later in the relationship which by then he'll admit to rehearsing it all in a mirror the nigth before.
"You me the park at 7pm tomorrow." John said as he walked up to you, no hello's or anything else.
"Oh yea?" You chuckled as you watched his smirk faulter at your pushback for just a moment.
"Yea, you have a problem with that." He took a step closer, keeping eye contact with you seemingly attempting to challenge you to push him furhter. You weren't going to, you knew that but the fact that he did not for these few seconds made it much more fun for you.
"I'll be there." You broke the silence, and all you got was a nod from him as he turned to walk away, watching as he walked as if he'd had multiple shots of expresso hilariously.
⋆˙⟡Yelena⟡˙⋆
Oh so stereotypical for some reason. Once she knows she wants you she will be getting you and that is the end of the discussion. She'd ask you while handing you a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers wrapped in perfectly tied ribbon.
It'll be done in private to, a timed place where nobody could dare to interupt. She wants it to be perfect even if its just a first date and she will make it painfully so. She won't have anything planned for the actual date though, wanting to get your opinion on it before hand.
"Is there any reason why we're out here?" You said aloud, looking around the quiet park. This specific spot you were in had nobody running around it, you could hear the rest of them off in the distance yet here and now it was just you two.
"I wanted peace and quiet so I could ask you." Yelena's tone was serious but her face gave off hints of excitment. You watched as she ducked below the bench to pull out of bundle of flowers. "For you." She extended the flowers towards you, waiting with a smile until you grabbed them.
"Why?" You could feel the confusion on your face as you switched focus between the flowers and her.
"I would like to take you out on a date if you'd let me." Now she was nervous, you could hear it but god was it endearing.
"Please do."
⋆˙⟡Bob⟡˙⋆
Sleepily, its the only time he has enough confidence. You two would be resting in the common space after a mission, everyone else had left to go to their own rooms but you two always watched something before doing so.
He'd be half asleep bundled under a big blanket on the couch next to you when he'd ask. Saying he'd been thinking about it for ages and would really like to start sharing couches. Falls asleep the moment you agree but thankfully remembers in the morning.
"We should share a couch one day." Bob mumbled, words coming out at the right commercial break.
"Yea?" You chuckled, pushing your own blankets down enough to get a view of his red but bundled face in the tv's light.
"Mhm." He hummed, eyes closed and shifting further down into the cushions. "If we go out on a date we could do it." A smile grew on his face, imagining that scenario.
"I'd like that." You responded, watching him grin adorbly. "If you'd like." You added, knowing his tired mind races from him often enough that it can and has become an issue.
"Zoo date?" He whispered, prying his eyes open to look at you with baited breath for a response that wouldn't ruin the moment.
"Zoo date."
#writing#fanfiction#fanfic#thunderbolts#marvel thunderbolts#yelena belova#yelena black widow#yelena x reader#yelena fluff#yelena belova x reader#john walker#john walker x reader#john walker imagine#ava starr#ava starr x reader#ava starr imagine#ava starr headcanons#bucky x reader#bucky imagine#james bucky barnes#bob reynolds#bob reynolds x reader#bob reynolds imagine
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dating ava starr headcanons ࣪ ִֶָ☾.



warnings: thunderbolts spoilers!! and some unedited thoughts
notes: MY GIRL SINCE ANT MAN AND THE WASP <33 i love her sm and needed to write something for her. this is just an accumulation of thoughts i've had about dating her since i watched the movie! hope you enjoy <3
you do her hair all the time! braids, pigtails, half up-half down, any hairstyle in the book is one you'll do for her. she loves the feeling of your hands in her hair and it relaxes her more than anything else after a tough or long mission.
sometimes when you're holding hands, she'll phase in and out through your hands and it can be a comfort and something soothing for you, but sometimes it's a funny way for her to tease you. it's her version of a 'tickle attack'!
alexei is the BIGGEST supporter of your relationship with ava. when ava said that she wanted the team to meet her new girlfriend, he was ecstatic, saying how great it was that someone on the team finally had a partner and he was even more ecstatic when he got to know you. think of him as you and ava's honorary dad who loves you embarrassingly lol. he would definitely think of adding the ally flag to the 'avengerz' merch and be so excited about it.
ava is such a witty and sassy person and so when you two first met there was a lot of back and forth play insults and banter - there definitely still is now, just some of those moments have been replaced with softer, gentler ones.
she's insecure about her laugh, but you think it's the most beautiful thing to ever grace your years. whenever she laughs at your jokes or at a situation, you can't help but admire her the sound, it brings you more joy than she could ever imagine.
she always asks for your opinion on a new suit before she chooses. she brings all the options home and shows them all to you. you sit on the bed, eating a box of thunderbolts wheaties, rating them and picking your favorites.
you keep a box full of magazine clippings, printed out comments and drawings of ava that you found on news outlets. all of them are complimenting her and some comments and art pieces were written and made by little girls that look up to her. the first time she broke down, post 'new avenger' status, you brought the box out to comfort her and show her that she's capable of being an amazing person - a hero, that people can look up to.
#MY GIRLLLLLL i love her sm <3#my writing#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts#thunderbolts x reader#ava starr#ava starr x reader#ghost marvel#ghost x reader#marvel#mcu#marvel x reader#mcu x reader#marvel fanfiction#hannah john kamen#marvel x you#wlw#fem!reader#marvel x fem!reader
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line cook!art who makes you hold his cigarette while he's fucking you because it's 'easier'... hmmm........ hm....................
ava i could kiss you right now...thank you... headcanons here!
a ticket.
"your place or mine?" scrawled on the back of table 49's order in his familiar handwriting. you'd been wondering when this 'invitation' would appear, ever since you'd caught art's eye as he leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen, his arm muscles flexed. you'd heard the rumours, the warnings from other servers when you'd started, "don't ever sleep with the line cooks!" "are you crazy? it'll fuck up the whole job!" but art was different from the other line cooks, he wasn't some constantly hungover teenager or the 50yr old man who you were 99% sure sold drugs on the side. so, you started rolling up your skirts just a little higher, leaning over the counter just enough that your boobs pushed up in the right way and it worked. art noticed, and he reciprocated, leaving you leftover fries or hashbrowns on the side of the kitchen, for which you were incredibly grateful.
"yours" you scribble back hastily with a smile on your face, walking back to the kitchen, making some excuse about forgotten items on the ticket to the other servers eyeing you suspiciously as you pass by, handing the order back to art, who just offers a small, innocuous nod in response.
art's waiting for you when you clock out, leaning against a car that must be older than either of you, arms folded across his chest in a way that makes the muscles bulge yet again and you fight the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl at the sight. your eyes drift back to the car to distract yourself, noting the dented wing mirror and scratched doors.
'grandma's.' he offers as a curt response to his old car before you even open your mouth to ask.
you nod awkwardly, 'how is she?' you say out of bumbling politeness.
'she died.' he shrugs, though you note the flicker of grief in his eyes when he says it.
'i'm sorry.' you mumble sympathetically, holding his gentle gaze.
art looks away from you at that, running his hand through his unkempt hair and opening the passenger door. you take the hint and scurry over, slipping into the seat and he winks at you as he shuts the door, back to the art you knew.
he walked round and got in the driver's seat, the car spluttered to life and he put his arm round your headrest to see if he could pull out safely and you blush, unbeknownst to you he spots the pink dusting your cheeks and smirks.
the journey to his place is fairly silent and outside your window the bustling city centre is slowly fading into downtown, the streets getting quieter and more deprived. art's humming beside you, tapping his calloused fingers against the steering wheel in tune to some rock band cd you don't know.
pulling into a backstreet, an apartment building slowly comes into view as art parks deftly, car creaking slightly as he does. he gets out the car and comes round to open your door, and you step out, his arm going round your waist protectively as he ushers you into the building.
'elevator broke weeks ago' he mutters, shaking his head in disappointment as you glance at the taped up silver doors and back at the steep staircase. art seemed to realise your fear and nudged you playfully, 'don't worry baby, i'm only on the first floor.'
baby. that pet name sent shivers down you spine and you struggled to keep your composure as you nodded in acknowledgement before the two of you climbed the stairs, his arm encircling your waist even tighter.
'welcome...' art grins as he turns his jangling keys in the lock, '...to Casa Donaldson' he jokes, stepping inside the apartment with his arms outstretched.
it was crappy, no other way to describe it. a dimly lit studio apartment with a few standard kitchen counters on your left, a minuscule bathroom to your right and just beyond the kitchen island is his bed, the bed. you're surprised it even has a bedframe based on how bare the rest of the place is.
art steps back towards you, cutting the impromptu judgemental tour in your head short. he's taller but not by much, just enough for him to tilt your chin to face him, a flirtatious smirk on his face as he looks you up and down. 'now...where were we?' he leans down, blue-green eyes closing as he press his lips to your supple ones.
you gasp into the kiss, melting into the feeling as he pulls you closer, your bodies moulding into one. at some point the kisses grow hungry, tongues colliding between parted mouths, and your back hits the door as art cages you in. 'you're so hot baby' he murmurs between hot kisses, fingers unbuttoning your white work blouse. 'c'mon doll show me those pretty tits of yours' he growls against your neck, his hands snaking down to your bra and pushing your chest up and you whine. 'you like showing these off huh? tryna get my attention that badly?' he taunts as he unclips your bra, 'mmph...yes...' you pant, your hands roaming all over his body desperately.
'well...you've got it' he grunts, his hands slipping under your thighs and lifting you so you have no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist, feeling the bulge in his trousers start to grow. he drops you unceremoniously on the bed, lifting your hips to slide your work skirt off and reveal your lacy panties. 'wearing these for me too?' he teases with a devilish smirk, finger slowly running up the fabric and you squirm, 'art-'. wordlessly, he slides the panties off your legs and tosses them onto the wooden floors of his apartment, his own trousers and boxers following suit. he leans back down and captures your lips in a ravenous sloppy kiss, before pulling away. 'c'mere doll' he says, crooking a finger and you sit up, surprised. 'here.' he repeats, patting his lap, his cock standing to attention.
you shuffle over towards his lap under his watchful eye, and he grips your hips, lifting you onto his cock. you feel the tip start to penetrate you and you squeak, 'that's it...' he purrs encouragingly as you sick down on his cock. it's big and you can feel it stretching your walls and you moan, 'ngh- oh-' until you bottom out and art groans, throwing his head back, 'fuck...yep...good girl...' he says through gritted teeth. your brain short circuits at 'good girl' but you remember something about coconut so you slowly start to move on his lap and art's breath comes in short pants, hands gripping your hips so hard you know they'll be marks left there tomorrow.
however, it doesn't take long before art starts to get bored, your movements not creating any stimulation for him. he reaches down and grabs a cigarette from the jacket crumpled on the floor beside the bed and you still, 'did i-?' 'one sec baby' he interrupts you, thumb flicking at a lighter as the cigarette catches flame, he takes a long drag and breathes out a plume of smoke whilst you stare at him in shock. 'could you hold this for me doll?' he smirks, slipping the cigarette between your teeth and you cough in surprise, smoke spluttering from your mouth. 'thank you' he pats your cheek mockingly before his hands return to your hips, 'now...baby...may i help? he croons and you nod dumbly.
art starts to lift his hips up into you and you gasp, his tip hitting your gspot roughly, 'mm-ngh-' comes art's moans as you flop around like a ragdoll in his lap as he repeatedly rams into that spot that makes you see stars from below. 'oh! oh!' you shriek, as art leans in and takes the cigarette from your mouth with his own, inhaling smoke with pleasure. you clench around him and he moans, 'oh baby-hughh- that's- yeah-' as he feels himself nearing release. his lifting hips become more erratic as he continues to pump into you, 'i'm- uh- fuck- i'm gonna-' is all he can manage before he's shooting his load into your tight pussy and you gasp, eyes wide as you feel his seed fill you and that action is enough to cause you to clench around him, 'art please- please-' you burble as you cum on his cock, draining ever last drop from him as your juices swirl with his own. you rest your head on his shoulder as you come down from the high, both of you panting in unision. 'please tell me you're on birth control' he pants and you nod meekly, 'oh thank god' he murmurs, slowly helping you off his cock and into the bathroom, seeing your own slick coating your thighs and smirking with pride.
you're awoken the next morning by an empty space beside you and the sound of cooking. you open one bleary eye and see art stood at the kitchen island. he winks at you 'and here i thought i'd killed you with my mega cock' he laughs and you groan, turning your face away and hiding in the sheets in shame. there's a creak as he sits down on the bed beside you and holds out a plate, 'grilled cheese?'.
tags: @blastzachilles @s0ftcobra @femme-lusts @glennussy @cha11engers @stanart4clearskin
#reader is not a virgin but is sexually inexperienced#first server job give her a break#thanks again ava!!!#merry writes 𓋼𓍊#barely proofread idc#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x you#challengers movie#challengers smut#challengers#challengers 2024#line cook!art#line cook!art donaldson#merry's inbox 👩❤️💋👩
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... I made a thing. And it's angsty.
(TW - Short mention of death, implied transphobia/deadnaming)
Raph has a... very strained relationship with his dad. He holds a grudge against him for not having been present in his and his siblings' lives when they needed a father figure most.
I'm still figuring stuff out but I wanted his dad to be a sort of showman? So he's always been away, always prioritizing his work (and "fame") over the well-being of his own children. Raph admired him growing up, but as he grew up, he slowly started despising him. His anger towards him grew tenfold when he came out as trans and his dad rejected him completely, and he decided it was best for him to cut ties with him entirely the moment he moved out of their house.
So yeah. For Raph, seeing him show up suddenly at his uncle's doorstep, acting all worried and caring... it feels all too fake. He's ain't willing to forgive and forget.
#... woof.#I'll admit. This started as an excuse to draw Raph actually enraged.#But I was listening to Like Him by Tyler The Creator and it. I wanted to share about this#Also that first drawing of the toys is their reactions to the whole ordeal. They've never seen the guy actually genuinely mad like this oop#(still need to figure out his dad's and uncle's designs ngl aaaaa)#my art#doodle#ramble#poppy playtime#doey the doughman#kissy missy#hoppy hopscotch#ppt oc#raphael moreno#raph#ava#poppy playtime au#big bro & kids shenanigans au#(Also messier sketches today !! Hope my writing is decipherable enough :'DDD)
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college!wonwoo who gets sick on campus one time and immediately develops a crush on the student nurse that assisted him at the health clinic.
you’re sweet and kind (like all nurses should be), but you’re also really chatty. talking about your humanities course and the readings you have that week. and wonwoo, being so whipped, just nods along thinking, “maybe I should read up on this sartre guy…”
when he leaves, he already misses the conversation. but he shakes it off. they’re cute and they’ve done your job, he thinks. now it’s time for him to get over it. except he doesn’t. because a few days later he finds himself back in the health clinic with an “earache”.
and he prays that you’re the one that attends to him that day, because if not, this would be really embarrassing. but it is you who opens the door to his room, a bit shocked that this cute boy has returned.
“hello, i’m— oh, it’s you. back so soon,” you quip, sanitizing your hands and walking over to him. “still having symptoms of your cold?”
“uh, no actually. something different. it’s,” he clears his throat. he’s never been a good liar. “um, it’s my ear this time.”
“hm, alright then,” you say with a smile. “i’ll get your vitals and check your chart, and then the doctor should be in shortly.” wonwoo nodded. you put the blood pressure cuff on his arm. your fingers dance across his bicep as you fit it around him, and he tries to will his racing heart to stop beating so hard — it’s going to give him away.
“everything looks good on my end,” you say as you flip through his paperwork. “it might be a minute, but a doctor will be in here. holler if you need me.” you give him a warm smile and turn to exit the room. ah, screw it.
“hey, I don’t know if this is too forward, but could i take you out sometime? or walk to you home? something?” wonwoo’s words spill out of him like a dam’s been broken. your eyebrows have shot you up your forehead, and wonwoo braces for this inevitable rejection.
you giggle. you’re giggling at him. wonwoo doesn’t know if this is worse than there being no response at all.
“aw, you’re cute,” you say, taking a step toward him. you bite your lip and look down at your watch. “i get off at two,” you whisper. a heat creeps up wonwoo’s face and it only makes you giggle more. god, he’d love to hear that sound forever.
“it’s a date then,” he says grinning. you beam back at him and close the door.
wonwoo’s so excited about seeing you later that when the doctor comes in for his appointment, he forgets which ear was supposed to be hurting.
#also he’s definitely a computer science major#i said what i said#is this self indulgent because I’m a nursing major#well yes!#wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo#seventeen x reader#svt#svt fluff#wonwoo fluff#ficlet#ava writes!!
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A contrapuntal poem inspired by @two-bees-poetry for Ava and Beatrice :)
#warrior nun#avatrice#poetry#contrapuntal poem#I imagine this is leading up to and right after the portal#bc I know ava comes back but that moment in time#before they know#ya know?#their story isn’t a tragedy but god it feels like it in the moment#I hope you enjoy :)#my writing
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Could I request a fic about George x Muggle!reader? Like she stays and works in the little village near the Burrow. Could either be snippets of them throughout the years having little flirty talks and slowly turns into a George feeling protective/scared for her safety kinda thing. Fluff/smut/angst/maybe happyending? That I'll leave up to you if this isn't too much of a ask!
Absolutely love your work!
flour and flowers | george weasley x reader
a/n: writing a bunch today to distract myself from the day's events. thank you for the request and your kindness! hope you like it :)
warnings: a cross between implied smut and actual smut, mentions of grief, not proofread
The first time George Weasley saw you, you were balancing a tray of teacups in one hand and flicking a disobedient curl out of your eyes with the other. Your fingers moved with the practiced grace of someone who knew how to carry comfort in porcelain. The sunlight caught the edges of your hair and made your smile look warmer than the tea you were serving. You stood outside the village café—chipped pastel paint, a hand-drawn chalkboard sign still smudged with yesterday’s specials, and the smell of something sweet curling through the air like it was trying to lure people inside.
He’d just popped down from the Burrow to run an errand for Molly, not expecting anything more exciting than a loaf of bread and a scolding for forgetting the milk last time. But then he saw you—sunlight on your shoulders, shoes scuffed from too much walking, your laugh spilling out like it belonged in the air.
You didn’t notice him at first. Just another stranger with freckled hands and storm-worn eyes. But when your gazes met—something in your chest fluttered. Like the world paused to see what you’d say first.
He slowed down, just slightly. Told himself it was curiosity.
Told himself a lot of things that day.
You noticed him, of course. Tall, red-haired, freckled all over with that vaguely chaotic glint in his eyes—the kind of man who didn’t exactly blend in. You offered him a smile out of politeness. He blinked like he hadn’t expected it.
“Tea?” you asked, voice light. “Or are you more of a coffee and chaos type?”
He huffed a laugh. “What gave me away?”
You shrugged. “The hair. The grin. The air of impending mischief.”
He took a step closer, nodding toward the tray. “Those for customers or is one of them a peace offering?”
“Depends,” you said. “You planning to stay a while or just here for the bread and doom?”
George smiled. Fully. The kind that showed teeth and softened him around the edges.
“Maybe both,” he said. “But if I’m going to be doomed, might as well be with a cup of something sweet.”
From that moment on, George only ever stopped at one place to pick up bread.
Didn’t matter if the other shop was closer. Or cheaper. Or didn’t make him feel like his chest might cave in every time you smiled at him from behind the counter. He came back anyway.
Sometimes he bought things he didn’t need—an extra croissant, a jar of local jam, a scone you said turned out too flat but still tasted fine. But mostly, he came for the way your voice smoothed out the sharp edges in his head. The way your laughter cut through the fog he still lived in, even years later. Sometimes he didn’t buy anything at all. Just sat out front with a cup of tea and let you talk to him about things that had nothing to do with magic or war or anything that had broken him before. He listened closely. Memorized the shape of your sentences, the way you tapped your fingers when you were excited, the soft hum you made when you stirred your drink. And with every word, every passing moment, something unnamed began to stitch itself back together inside him.
You didn’t know who he was. Not really. And he liked it that way.
Still, there were things you noticed.
He always stood with one shoulder tilted just slightly forward, like he was shielding something—or had once been forced to. There was a soft scar tucked behind the mess of curls on the right side of his head, where one ear should’ve been. You never asked about it.
The air around him always felt... different. Like it held a memory you couldn’t name. Like the warmth of his smile came from somewhere far away, carried on something heavier than it looked.
He laughed with you. Teased you. Rolled his eyes dramatically when you forgot his favorite muffin. But behind every grin, there was a flicker of something else. Grief, maybe. Or guilt. Or the echo of a name he hadn’t spoken out loud in a long time.
He came in more often as the weeks went by. Never said why. Just appeared like the wind—one minute the café was quiet, the next, the bell above the door chimed and there he was with a smirk and a sarcastic comment about your apron.
Sometimes you’d catch him staring out the window with a far-off look, like the village wasn’t quite real to him yet. Like he was still waiting for something—or someone—to tug him back into the storm.
Once, when it rained and no one else came in, you let him linger long after closing. You talked about stupid things: the worst thing you’d ever baked, his distaste for mint in desserts, a goat from the next village over who kept escaping. He laughed, really laughed, and then went quiet, like it surprised him.
Another time, he brought you a flower he swore he didn’t pick on purpose. It was crushed, a little muddy, and stuffed inside a napkin.
“Don’t get used to it,” he said.
But you kept it anyway. Pressed it between the pages of your recipe book. Every time you caught a glimpse of the browned, brittle petals, you smiled. Your fingers would sometimes linger on the page longer than necessary, tracing the soft edges as if they still held the warmth of his hand. It made your stomach twist, in that way beginnings always do—nervous and hopeful and quietly sweet.
The more he came around, the more he softened. Not all at once. Not loudly. But in small, steady ways.
He started fixing things—your sticky back door hinge, the café’s squeaky chalkboard sign, the wobbly stool by the window he always claimed as his. He never asked. Just noticed. Just did. And when you caught him at it, sleeves rolled to the elbows, wand tucked out of sight but clearly used, he’d shrug like it didn’t matter—like it hadn’t taken him an hour and a half to charm the latch back into place just right. Once, you found a small stack of napkins folded to level the back table leg. On one, he’d doodled a tiny magpie.
He started asking things, too. Quietly, like it cost him something. If you’d always lived here. If you ever wanted to leave. If you were scared to be alone at night. What your favorite song was. What your worst day looked like.
You caught him humming once. Under his breath, half-conscious of it. A melody that didn’t belong to the radio or the street—just something he was keeping close. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t want to scare it away. But something about the sound of it—gentle, aimless, half-happy—stayed with you. It echoed in your chest long after he left that evening, like the warmth of it had threaded into your ribs and settled there. You wondered what memory it belonged to. Or if maybe… it had something to do with you.
And slowly, you became part of the way he healed. Not by doing anything big, not by demanding he be different—but just by being there. Being warm. Being constant.
He stopped bracing when you touched his arm. He started remembering how you took your tea. He stayed longer. Looked lighter.
You weren’t magic. Not like him. But you felt like a kind of spell anyway.
---
He realized it on a Tuesday.
He’d been walking down the main lane into town, already half-smiling at the thought of seeing you, maybe teasing you for your questionable muffin-of-the-day choice—when he saw it.
The café was dark.
The lights were off. The chairs inside still up on tables. The chalkboard sign outside had been knocked over, lying face-down in the dirt.
Something in his chest snapped to attention.
He picked up his pace without thinking, scanning the windows, checking for movement. Nothing. No soft music, no scent of baking, no warm hum in the air that usually buzzed with your presence.
Then he heard it—from a passerby at the grocer’s doorstep.
“Shame about the café. Robbed last night, I heard. Poor girl must’ve been scared out of her mind.”
He didn’t hear the rest. Not really.
His hands were already shaking.
Because he didn’t know where you were.
Didn’t know if you’d been hurt. If you’d cried. If you were alone when it happened. If you were still alone now.
And that helpless, breathless ache clawed its way back through him.
Because the last time he’d loved someone enough to fear losing them, he had.
He didn’t think. Didn’t stop. Just moved.
Through the square. Past the post. His boots hit the pavement too hard, his breath shallow, heart thudding loud enough it might as well have been shouting your name.
The baker saw him and called something out—he didn’t hear it.
He rounded the corner toward your flat above the café, his hand already on the railing of the steps before his brain caught up. One breath. Two. Then he knocked.
And when you opened the door, eyes puffy, sweater too big, hair undone from what must’ve been a long and sleepless night—he couldn’t speak.
You blinked at him, then tried to smile. “Hi.”
He swallowed hard. “You’re okay.”
You nodded. “I’m okay.”
And then he was pulling you in, arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, his face buried in your neck like the world had stopped spinning and he needed to feel gravity again.
He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to.
Not yet.
Inside, the flat is dim—curtains drawn, a half-finished cup of tea gone cold on the table. You close the door behind him, the latch clicking into place like a sigh. Neither of you speaks at first.
He doesn’t let go.
Not until your hands come up to rest on his back, and even then, only enough to pull away and look at you—really look.
“Did they hurt you?” he asks, low. Rough.
You shake your head. “No. Just broke a window. Took the till. Some stock. I wasn’t here.”
Relief floods him so fast it feels like weakness. He sinks onto the edge of your couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
You watch him for a moment. Then sit beside him. “George?”
He looks up. His eyes are too bright.
“I—I didn’t know where you were,” he says, and it’s like the words rip something open.
“I thought—God, I thought I was going to lose you, and I didn’t even—”
He stops himself. But his hands find yours. Threaded. Tight.
“I don’t think I can do that again,” he admits. “Lose someone I—”
You squeeze his fingers.
“I'm here,” you whisper.
And this time, when he leans in, it’s not with panic. It’s with promise.
His lips brush yours like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he moves too fast. Gentle. Testing. But once you respond, his restraint slips, just a little—your mouths part, meet again, deeper this time. His fingers knot themselves in your hair, and your hands find the edge of his shirt, anchoring him to you.
The kiss turns hungry in a heartbeat, built from everything unspoken and aching. Your bodies shift closer, knees bumping, breath warm and shared, and when he moans softly into your mouth, it sends a bolt of heat down your spine. You gasp against him, fingers curling at the hem of his shirt, dragging it up, needing more—needing him.
His thumb grazes the underside of your jaw as he pulls back for only a second, eyes searching yours, glazed with want. “Is this going to be okay?” he murmurs.
You’ve wanted him for so long it feels like it’s woven into your blood. Like every soft glance and crooked grin and half-step closer was a stitch, and now you’re coming apart to make room for him. Your body aches for him, not just with need—but with something fuller. Something that feels dangerously close to love.
You don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
And you kiss him like it’s the answer to every question he never dared to ask.
You’re not sure who exhales first, but the sigh between you is shared, warm, heavy with everything you haven’t said aloud.
When he pulls back, it’s barely an inch. His forehead rests against yours. His thumb still moves in slow circles at your side.
“Tell me this isn’t nothing,” he murmurs.
You shake your head, barely breathing. “It’s everything.”
He kisses you again.
Not tentative this time—there’s a hunger to it now, an ache that’s been building under every laugh, every shared cup of tea, every moment you made him feel like someone whole. His fingers slide under the hem of your sweater, slow and reverent, like he’s asking permission. Like he’s afraid if he rushes, it’ll all disappear.
You nod before he even says a word.
That night is soft. You take your time, like the two of you are learning a new language written in breath and bare skin. He kisses the slope of your shoulder, the bend of your knee, murmurs something indecipherable against your stomach that sounds like worship. You drag your fingers through his hair, pull him back to your mouth, feel his weight press into you like he’s trying to be rewritten by your body alone. The rhythm you find together is slow, reverent—like memory, like healing. He touches you like he doesn’t believe he’s allowed.
You let him.
You tell him he is.
And in the morning, the sun paints gold across your floorboards, catching on the curls at the base of his neck where he sleeps, half-tangled in your sheets.
You wake before him. Watch his chest rise and fall, slow and steady, one hand curled loosely beneath his chin. He looks younger in the light—unguarded, almost boyish, like the weight he carries has finally been set down for a while.
Something in your chest swells. You press a kiss to his shoulder, light as air, and whisper his name just to be sure it’s real.
He stirs. Wakes slowly. Stretches. Blinks at you like he’s still dreaming.
“I want to try something,” he says.
You raise an eyebrow. “Try what?”
He doesn’t answer. Just slips out of bed, bare feet padding over wood, and reaches for his wand from where it rests on the windowsill. You sit up, blanket clutched to your chest, watching as he steps into the patch of sunlight by your window.
He closes his eyes. Breathes.
He thinks about the way you looked at him last night. About your hands in his hair. The sound you made when he whispered that you mattered. The way it felt to finally, finally be held without fear.
When he opens his eyes, he lifts the wand and speaks—clear, quiet, certain.
“Expecto Patronum.”
And for the first time since Fred, something silver and stunning bursts from the tip—light and wild and alive.
It takes the shape of a magpie.
He turns to you, eyes glassy, smile trembling.
You don’t say anything. Just reach for him.
And he comes home to you all over again.
-----
tagging: @hanneh69 @jamespotteraliveversion @glennussy
#a writes#ava's asks#george weasley#harry potter#george weasley x reader#george weasley x you#harry potter x reader#george weasley fluff#george weasley smut#george weasley angst
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Headcanon: Kate has been watching Fanny for a while ever since Yelena became too busy and too depressed to properly take care of her. Once the tower is finally renovated and the New Avengers move in, Kate comes over and drops her off, along with the guinea pig she's been watching ever since Malaysia (Yelena named it Bint Clarton).
Cue the team meeting Yelena's situationship and her 70 pound furball.
#thunderbolts#new avengers#yelena belova#kate bishop#headcanon#marvel#mcu#someone write this pls#bishlova#also i think fanny and ava become close#dogs are good at sensing when people are in pain. fanny lays on top of her to help her feel more stable
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So I saw something that said you’re taking requests? If that is true, can I request a Bob Reynolds x reader where reader is perpetually cold and uses Bob as a heater?
Warmth [Bob Reynolds x female!reader]
“Hold me in this wild, wild world - ‘cause in your warmth I forgot how cold it can be”
Pairing: Bob Reynolds/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry x fem thunderbolts!reader
Requested: Yes✨️ (requests are open!!)
CW: none, it's just fluff!! (well, maybe some awkward!Bob but idk if that needs a warning)
Masterlist
Word count: ~5k
[A/N: [y/nn] = your nickname]
[A/N #2: I'm sorry it took me so long to write this one! Uni's been quite stressful lately, and apparently, it's much harder for me to write when it's for someone else🥲 but I loved the challenge, so I'm looking forward to getting more requests!!! Hope you enjoy😊]
This is not beta-read oopsieee
Ever since you moved into the Watchtower, you’d been freezing perpetually. This wasn’t something that was new to you. Not entirely. The heating at your old place had always been set to a cosy 71°F because, even in a thick hoodie and fuzzy socks, you were used to constantly having cold hands and feet. In school, people used to make fun of you for wearing sweatshirts well into June when most of them had long put away their long-sleeved clothes. Now, in the Watchtower, you were lucky if someone turned the thermostat up to 65°F. John and Bucky - but especially John - would go on about how they couldn’t handle it if the apartment got too warm, arguing that they tend to run hot because of the serum. But Bob and Alexei never seemed to be too opposed to leaving the thermostat set to a temperature that didn’t have the rest of you feeling like you were living in a cold store.
“Why can’t you girls just put on a hoodie if you’re cold?”John moaned and turned on the AC before sitting down in his usual armchair, sweat stains on his shirt from his morning jog.
“Because having the AC on full blast is bad for the environment. Just get over yourself,” Ava tried to reason, getting up from the couch and turning down the AC again.
“It’s four supersoldiers living here. And three women. That’s clearly a majority. If you’re cold, you should put on some warmer clothes,” John retorted, joining Ava at the thermostat once more.
“John, you cannot play the ‘I am a supersoldier’ card every time you’re losing an argument,” Yelena rebutted, her Eastern European accent thick, and rolled her eyes. “Bob and Alexei don’t seem to have a problem with setting the AC to a temperature everyone feels comfortable with.”
“Alexei basically loves to sit around in his robe and tighty whities and Bob’s probably just too much of a wuss to say anything,” John snapped and looked at Bob who had been really quiet this whole conversation. Hearing his name caught Bob’s attention, having him look around the room, trying to figure out what he’d done.
“Hey, there’s no need to get personal, Walker,” you interfered, looking up from your book. You met Bob’s eyes and sent him a soft smile. He relaxed a little, his shoulders dropping back to their usual level. You stretched out your leg and poked his side with your foot, getting a small smile from him in return.
“I’m not the one who’s making this personal, Yel-"
Walker quickly shut up when he heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway and turned to see Bucky walk into the living room, an annoyed expression on his face.
“Okay, what’s going on here, and who started it?”
“Walker!” The four of you said in unison, and Bucky sighed loudly, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his right hand.
Walker looked around the room, an exasperated look on his face, and his finger pointed at his own chest.
“How is this my fault? Besides, Bob, are you fucking kidding me? You can’t speak up for yourself but then you’re ready to throw me under the bus the second you get a chance?” There was an angry sneer on John’s face and when your gaze fell on Bob once more, you realised that he’d shrunken into the couch cushions, seeming considerably tinier than he actually was.
“Sorry, Walker, but I’m on the girls’ side on this one.”
“Of course you are,” John muttered, rolling his eyes again and turning to walk to his room, when Bucky’s arm landed across his chest.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bucky asked, his voice filled with frustration.
After the discussion that ensued, you’d all agreed to keep the temperature of the common rooms to a more agreeable 69°F, still very much to John’s displeasure. Eventually, everyone seemed to get used to the temperature in the shared living spaces. Well, that was everyone but you. You blamed it on bad circulation and an iron deficiency that you couldn’t quite seem to shake completely. So, you put on a sweater and some fluffy socks most times you left your bedroom and tried to tell you that it was ok - that, maybe, you just took longer to get used to the temperature shift between your bedroom and the living room or kitchen.
But then there was that one day where the AC malfunctioned, and none of you could figure out a way to shut it off. God, that was probably John’s favourite day of the year because he finally got what he wanted all this time. After desperately trying to stay warm in your room, you gave up and figured that maybe you’d be warmer in the living room with the afternoon sun streaming in. Yelena and Ava were sitting in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, trying to warm themselves in the sun, quietly bickering about John who was lounging on the couch, wearing a tank top and shorts, his bare feet on the coffee table. He had a smug smile on his lips when he saw you come into the living room, wearing a thick cardigan over your oversized hoodie and sweat pants. You’d shoved your feet into the warmest pair of slippers that still fit over the thickest socks you had, but yet, you still felt cold.
“Where are you going? The Arctic?" John laughed, sitting up straighter to get a better look at your outfit while you walked around the back of the couch, looking for a cosy spot to read. You didn’t reply, just sent him an annoyed glare and then pulled your cardigan tighter around your frame.
“Guess it’s not just the temperature that’s freezing in here,” he muttered under his breath and slumped back down in his seat.
“You know, you can just shut up. You get that, right?” Ava countered and closed her eyes against the sun, leaning back onto her elbows.
"What did I say now?” His arms were stretched over his head, completely oblivious that his joke from before wasn’t funny at all.
“John Walker, if a woman tells you to be quiet, you should really be quiet,” Alexei told him, shaking a raised index finger into John’s direction and looking at John over the edge of his newspaper, his head cocked forward.
John didn’t say much after that anymore, just mumbled a few words into his beard. It got quiet again in the living room, everyone going back to what they were doing before you entered the living room. But you couldn’t concentrate on your book, annoyed by the way your cold toes touched each other inside your socks and how there was a constant flow of cold air coming from the exposed vents hanging from the high ceiling. Even the throw blanket you’d grabbed from the edge of the couch a few minutes after sitting down in the bean bag by the window didn’t seem to keep you warm enough. You put the bookmark between the pages of your book and then set it aside on the floor before pulling the blanket up under your chin, shivering slightly.
“God, it’s so cold,” you muttered, rubbing your arms under the blanket and trying to generate some heat. “Did Bucky say anything about when they’ll come around and fix the AC?” you asked, looking at Yelena and Ava.
They shook their heads, Yelena telling you that Bucky had tried to get some people down here but didn’t have any luck. With her face turned to the window, she look like a cat basking in the sun.
“Apparently they’re all too busy with installing ACs all over New York,” Ava added and shrugged her shoulders, a sorry expression on her face.
“Hey, [y/nn], if you want, you can come and sit with me. I give great dad hug! Yelena can confirm. Right, Lenochka?” Alexei opened his arms invitingly and let his eyes wander between you and Yelena, whose face pulled an embarrassed grimace.
“Dad, please don’t take this the wrong way. But I don’t think [y/n] wants a dad hug from you, right now.”
“That’s really nice of you, Alexei,” you thanked him, sending him a kind smile.
He nodded, his shoulders slumping a little, but his bright grin didn’t falter. “Always! You are family now!”
It was then that Bob and Bucky walked into the living room, carrying seven cups of hot cocoa, whipped cream in a can, a packet of mini marshmallows, and some cookies between the two. They set the mugs down on the coffee table and told us to get together.
“OK, Bob and I have made the executive decision that we’re gonna drink some hot cocoa and have ourselves a lil movie night.”
“Bucky, it’s 4 in the afternoon,” John noted, looking at his wristwatch, and Bucky sent him a glare.
“If you don’t wanna join us, then suit yourself, Walker. I bet Valentina still has some paperwork you can take care of, if you really wanna work,” Bucky schooled him, sitting down in his usual spot on the couch.
“No, no. It’s fine! Movie time it is.”
The team all cosied up on the couch, leaving a spot between Bob and Yelena for you. You plopped down, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs, hoping you’d stay warmer this way.
“Want some blanket [y/n]?” Bob offered and lifted the blanket he’d put over his legs a second before. You reached over to him, your fingers brushing against his as you pulled on the fabric a little. His fingers were warm, toasty even, and your eyes went up to meet his gaze.
“How are you not freezing?” you asked him, your fingers staying wrapped around his for a moment, hoping to coax some of his warmth.
“Well, I kinda run hot…” His voice wobbled a little, and he gulped, his cheeks turning pink. Bob averted his gaze, his eyes moving down to your hand slowly slipping into his, but you could still see him bite his lip nervously.
“Wish that was me right now, to be honest,” you mumbled and put his hand on your cheek, leaning into his palm. “I feel like I might actually turn into a fucking ice cube every second now.”
“Yeah, I guess it’s a perk in situations like these…” His thumb swiped over your cheek instinctively, a soft smile on his face, and then his eyes sparkled a little, going wide. “You could… come a little closer. Maybe I can help you warm up?” Bob motioned his head for you to move on over and put his arm out for you.
You didn’t have to be told twice, quickly scooching over to him and putting your head on his shoulder. The second his arm wrapped around your back, it felt like a warm and cosy blanket being placed around you, the citrusy-yet-earthy scent of his cologne enveloping your senses. You got a little more comfortable, putting your feet between his crossed legs. Bob’s hand dropped to your knees, rubbing up and down your shins, the friction creating a soothing warmth on your skin.
“Wait, I wanna cuddle, too,” Yelena exclaimed, scooching over, too, and throwing her arms around the two of you. Her head came to rest against your back, and she hummed as her fingertips drew lazy patterns on your knees.
You stayed like that for a while, Yelena eventually lying down in the space that you’d left vacant by moving to basically sit in Bob’s lap and falling asleep, soft snores rumbling behind you every now and then. At some point, your knees had fallen against Bob’s chest, and you’d cuddled up closer to him, his cheek resting against your temple.
“Are you getting warmer?” He asked, looking at you from the corner of his eyes, and you nodded, the comforting warmth of his embrace slowly lulling you to sleep as well. His hand moved from its resting place on your ankles to your cheek, and he ran his thumb over it again.
“If you wanna nap, I’ll keep you safe from turning into a popsicle, ok?” There was a certain easy playfulness to his voice that made your heart skip a beat.
You nodded drowsily and burrowed your face in his neck, closing your eyes against the flickering lights emanating from the TV. With the hot cocoa warming you from the inside and Bob’s arms wrapped around your frame, it didn’t take long for you to get swept off to dreamland.
Bob’s voice woke you up a little later, his breath hot against your ear: “Hey, we’re ordering take out, you want something?” His thumb was caressing your cheek again, and your eyes fluttered open, trying to blink away sleep. “What are you getting?”, you mumbled groggily and wiped at your eyes, slowly pulling away from him.
“Chinese. We’ve already gotten mini spring rolls and wontons but we weren’t sure what you’d wanna eat,” Bucky told you, looking at you from behind Bob. He smiled at you and then handed you his phone. “Get yourself something nice, Val’s paying.” Bucky sent you a wink and then leant back against the couch, his eyes back on the TV.
~~~
You were tossing and turning in your bed, the covers pulled up under your chin in a futile attempt to stay warm. The cold had crept into your very bones, and nothing seemed to help anymore. You’d tried tea and more hot chocolate and even made a cup of hot milk with honey, hoping that it’d warm you up enough to fall asleep. But it had been almost an hour of tossing, and you were getting fed up with each tick-tock of the clock hanging over your bedroom door.
You turned on your phone and looked at the lockscreen, a too bright 1:47 am glaring back at you. You sighed and locked your phone again, turning onto your side and pulling your legs to your chest. Images of earlier that day ran through your mind like a film through a projector, the only thing missing being the rattling noise of the cooling fans and the motor. Memories of Bob’s arm slung around your shoulder, his hand rubbing up and down your upper arm. His blue eyes flashing over to you every now and again as if checking to see you’re still you and haven’t turned into a human icicle. His other hand was drawing loose patterns on the bare skin from where your joggers had ridden up above the thick socks. You hadn’t even noticed at first. It felt too natural for him to hold you like that. Especially after having yearned to feel his hands on your body in any way for so long.
His touch had sent tiny sparks through you, like bursts of electrical currents, and with them came a pleasant warmth. A warmth that made your insides heat up in a way that the hot chocolate couldn’t. You ached to feel this warmth again. To feel the childlike excitement that ran through your veins while being in his arms. To have his delectable scent cloud your senses with every inhale.
You longed for his warmth so much that you hadn’t noticed yourself get up out of bed. You only realised when the cold of the door handle crept up through your fingers. You pushed the handle down, trying to be as quiet as possible, knowing that your door tended to creak when opened too quickly. Not that any of your other team members should’ve been awake at this hour, but still, you wanted to ensure that no one knew about your night-time stroll. Deep down, you were scared that Bob would open the door. That he’d be awake to find you standing at this doorstep, shivering from the low temperatures in the Tower.
Once you reached Bob’s bedroom door on the other side of the apartment, you let your hand hover for a second, your blood rushing in your ears and your heart skipping a beat or two. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on his door as softly as possible, barely making any noise. You could hear faint shuffling from the other side of the door, the groan of the bedframe under Bob’s body. You waited, quietly counting in your head. Then there were footsteps but they stopped again. You imagined Bob standing on the other side of the door, unsure if he’d imagined the rapping at this door. You inhaled, held your breath for a second, exhaled. Then again. The tips of your fingers rested against the cool wood, tingling. You wanted to knock another time, but your brain didn’t seem able to send the signal to lift your hand and knock again.
Just as you found yourself turning towards the door, the door handle moved downwards. The door opened a smidge, and your eyes travelled upwards, slowly, like those of a scared animal. Blocking the warm glow of the lamp on his bedside table, Bob’s eyes met yours, and then his eyebrows hitched up, just for a split second before a smile took over his features.
“[y/n]?” His voice was barely above a whisper, hoping to protect the serene tranquillity of night. He opened the door a little wider and you realised that he was only wearing a pair of boxers. They sat low on his hips, and there was the tiniest trail of hair running down from underneath his belly button and disappearing into his underwear. You shook your head, trying to peel your gaze from his hips and remember why you’d come here. “Are you ok?”
You nodded, your hand brushing away a strand that had fallen into your face. You tried to come up with an appropriate explanation, one other than ‘hey, I’m cold, can we have a cuddle?’ but you found yourself at a momentary loss of words.
“Oh no, I think you’ve turned into a popsicle, after all.” His words were followed by a soft chuckle, and your eyes went to the floor. You suddenly felt incredibly stupid for leaving your bedroom and walking to his in the middle of the night.
“I… I think I should go back, uh, to my room,” you murmured, your hand lifting to have your thumb point in the direction of where you came from. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You turned again, and just as you were to take the first step, Bob came up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder. Warmth radiated through your arm and chest, and you felt yourself lean into his touch a little.
“[y/n], wait. You didn’t wake me up.” His grip on your shoulder tightened a little, and he added: “God, you really are freezing…”
“Yeah, well… you run hot and I run cold…”, you murmured and you let your head fall.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you… Do you… I mean…”, he stammered, trying to find the right words. “Do you wanna come inside? I could… I mean, we could… you know…”
You looked over your shoulder and saw his Adam’s apple bop up and down as he gulped, unease taking over his face in the shadows.
“Do you want a hug?” He finally offered and scratched the back of his head.
“Yes, please.” The words fell from your lips before you had the chance to stop them, so you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stop any more from escaping. You rolled your eyes at yourself, took a deep breath, and then turned back to him, your mind getting hazy from all the back and forth. “Yes, I would really like a hug right now?”
The softest ‘ok’ came from Bob, and he opened his door to let you step into his bedroom. He opened his arms, and you walked up to him. The second his arms wrapped around you, you felt the tension fall away, and you melted into him. Into the warm glow that enveloped you. You buried your head against his chest, closing your eyes, and wrapped your arms around him, too. His muscles tensed and then relaxed again under your fingertips, getting used to the cold of your touch.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled and looked up at him, pulling your head back a little.
“No, you’re good, sweetheart,” he put his head on top of yours and pulled you even closer. Your heart bloomed at the pet name, adding to the warmth taking over your body with every second he held you close. He closed the door, pushing at the wooden slab with his foot, and let his fingers run through your hair.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” Your words were hesitant, barely audible in the darkness of his room. You hoped that the darkness would just swallow them. That Bob couldn’t feel the way your heart was racing and how it skipped a beat whenever his thumb brushed over that one spot on your back. “It’s just that it’s so cold in my room and I can’t fall asleep when…”
You could feel his head bop in affirmation before he even uttered the words: “Of course you can stay here tonight.” You didn’t know just how badly he tried to suppress the urge to add ‘you can stay here every night’. The words were on the tip of his tongue, threatening to burst free. Instead, he pulled away from you and then motioned to his bed.
Bob walked over but you stayed in your place at the door, watching him lift the covers and then climb in. That’s when he looked up and frowned for a split second before he patted the mattress.
“Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” He sent you a sheepish smile and winked at you, earning a breathy laugh from you.
Mustering up every little ounce of confidence, you shuffled over to him and climbed into bed next to him. You didn’t plant yourself right next to him, no, but left a little gap, suddenly feeling like you were a teenager again and sitting in bed with your crush for the very first time. You clasped your hands over the covers and tried to hide the smile at your own nervousness. You might kick ass on a daily basis, but sitting in bed with Bob seemed to be your very own final boss.
“You can come closer, I don’t mind,” Bob assured and opened his arms again, inviting you to scooch over.
“I don’t know why I am so nervous,” you lied, looking over at him and biting on your bottom lip anxiously. “I mean, we literally cuddled earlier… in front of everyone else…”
“Right? I mean, it’s not like we haven’t done this before,” he agreed and you could see his cheeks turning pink. “I could, uh, put on a shirt if you want. If you feel more comfortable then.” He pointed at his wardrobe and shrugged his shoulders.
“No, that’s ok.”
Your eyes travelled down his face. Over his throat. Stopping to watch the vein flutter under his skin quickly for a second. His chest rose and fell with every inhale and exhale. Your gaze moved further down, following the trail of hair that disappeared under the blanket and then to his hand.
“I'm sorry, I tend to… freeze when I'm nervous.” When you realised the unintended pun you laughed at yourself, and then looked back at his face. There was a smile tugging at the corners of his eyes, and you realised the nervousness abate.
You scooched closer to Bob and let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to bridge the distance. He put his head against your temple, and you cosied up against his chest, your hand resting on his pectoral muscles.
“Did you have another nightmare?” You asked him, your gaze travelling up to him slowly.
“Why do you ask?” His voice was filled with confusion, and he met your eyes.
“Well, you said you were already awake when I knocked… it's quite late, so,” you explained and let your fingers trail up his chest, running along the edge of his collarbone.
“Oh! No… I just couldn't get my mind to quiet down,” he revealed, his eyes following the movement of your fingers. The vein in his neck started to pulse more quickly, and you let your finger run over it slowly, carefully.
“I'm sorry…Anything in particular?” You looked at him from underneath your lashes and smiled at him.
His eyes wandered to your lips and stayed there for a second before he looked away, over to his bedroom door.
“Uh, no,” he chuckled, and then his eyes flitted to you for a brief second before leaving your gaze again. He did this often when he lied to John or even to Yelena. “Just this and that, you know.”
“Yeah, I get that, too, sometimes.” You put your head on his shoulder again and tried to hide the smile from spreading. “We should probably try and get some sleep, though.”
You could feel Bob nod his head again, and then he scooted down, pulling you with him. Your leg snaked over his thigh, tangling itself with his legs and his left hand found your elbow. He started drawing loose patterns on his skin again, and you could hear his heart skip a beat with your head resting on his chest.
“Are… are you warm enough like this?” His hand left your elbow and he made to pull up the covers.
“Yeah, you're pretty hot, so…” You could hear him choke on his spit a little, his body turning away from you while he tried to catch his breath again. “I mean, you're pretty warm. Body temperature wise…” You sat up, your hands clasping together in your lap while the heat rose up your neck, making your cheeks burn.
When he caught his breath again, he ran his hand over his face and chuckled softly.
“Yeah, of course,” he looked at you from over his shoulder and took a deep breath. “Of course that's what you meant.” He coughed once more and then turned back to you.
“I mean, why would you mean anything else?” Bob shrugged his shoulders, and there was a sorry smile on his face.
“Why wouldn't I? It's not like you aren't hot, you know… It's just... We're teammates, right?” You were scrambling for words, your hands getting clammy with every passing second. “And just because I think you're hot doesn't mean… that doesn't mean you feel the same about me, so…”
His eyes went wide, and suddenly, you were scared he'd choke again. He turned around fully, his hands moving all over the place nervously.
“Please don't choke again,” you begged him and moved back on the mattress. Your feet were on the floor as the regret set in. “I think, I… I’m just gonna… Go back to my own room.”
You stumbled back, readjusting the shirt you were wearing, and tried to make your way to the bedroom door in the dim light.
“Wait. Stay, please!” Bob hurried after you and stopped you, his right hand resting on your left arm. His left hand cupped your cheek, and you closed your eyes, scared to find pity in his gaze. “Please, look at me.”
You obliged him, meeting his eyes, and you were surprised when you found no pity in them. Only the softness radiating off of the smile that was spreading on his lips.
“You don't even realise how wrong you are about me not feeling the same way about you…” There was a certain something about the way he said those words. Like he'd wanted to get them off his chest for a long time. “And I don't care about us being teammates.” He puffed out his chest a little, and you snickered at the image in front of you.
“Bucky would kill us, if he knew,” you laughed and he shrugged, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
“Last time I checked, I'm kind of invincible. But still, it'd be a good reason to go, you know.”
You nodded at him, a big grin on your lips. There was a flutter in your tummy, like butterflies from being in love for the first time. When he leaned down to you, his fingers on your chin to pull you closer, your breath hitched, and your eyes flitted to his lips.
“Can… can I kiss you?” His words were soft and so quiet you weren't sure if you'd heard him right. But you found yourself nodding anyway, turning your head upwards a little and closing your eyes. The kiss was timid at first. Slow and tentative. Barely there.
But when he realised you wouldn't pull away, he sighed quietly and deepened the kiss. You melted against him. His arms wrapped around you, and your hands went up into the hair at the back of his neck. And suddenly, you felt a warmth spread through your whole body, making you think that you'd never felt warmth before.
_____
Taglist (if you want me to add you to future projects, just let me know):
@flaneurpastel
#marly's request#marly's writing#marvelouslymarly's writing#marvelouslymarly's request#bob reynolds#robert reynolds#the sentry#the void#bob reynolds fluff#robert reynolds fluff#the sentry fluff#bob thunderbolts#thunderbolts#thunderbolts*#marvel#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#bob reynolds fanfic#robert reynolds fanfic#lewis pullman#bucky barnes#yelena belova#john walker#ava starr#alexei shostakov#bob reynolds x reader#robert reynolds x reader#thunderbolts x reader#marvelouslymarly's masterlist
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tuesday in the park (a.d.)
pairing: divorced!art x reader
synopsis: your alone time at the park takes an interesting turn when a little girl breaks the quiet, but maybe... her dad is a good company.
warnings: language, smoking, mention of divorce, lily is an adorable lil oblivious cupid, sooo much tension tho, maybe smut in future parts? idk
notes: i am back and pathetic bitch boy art has officially given me a brainrot. this is also very self-indulgent and heavily based on my irl experience (except the fact that it's art, sadly) soooo... enjoy!
✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨
City parks are fucking depressing. Especially the industrial type that’s square, and covered in concrete and has, like, four trees. They’re all well-manicured and hung with string lights, but there’s still barely enough greens to call it a park. And to add insult to injury, a Tiffany’s installation art currently sits at the head of the park—a giant diamond ring in a lush velvet box the size of a Range Rover. It’s gaudy as shit, and the massive Aston Martin billboard overhead is an assault to the eyes. You honestly have no idea why you’re sitting here.
Oh, right. It’s like 2PM on a Tuesday afternoon in some downtown office area, so there’s nobody else there. You can just sit and smoke and watch the water spout from the ground in pretty patterns. The steady rhythm of the fountain jets quiets the chaos in your mind.
Inhale. Exhale. As the fountain hisses and ceases, hisses and ceases…
And then suddenly… another pattern.
A pitter-patter. Like little footsteps. Quick moving, and then it stops. Right to your left.
You turn your head and see a little girl sitting right next to you. Her white sneakers look so small next to yours. She pushes a lock of dark ringlets off of her face as she watches the floor fountain in quiet curiosity and awe.
It takes you a moment to realize you still had a cigarette in your hand. You quickly stub it out as far from her as you can. “Uh… hello.” You frown at your own words, but how the fuck do you talk to kids in this situation?!
But the kid looks up and smiles at you politely. “Hello.” she nods and then returns her gaze to the water bursting in canon.
You’re even more confused. She doesn’t even seem deterred by sitting next to a stranger—willingly, at that. “Well, are you… are you alone?”
“No. With my dad,” she answers, light as a feather.
“Oh, good. Good.” You sigh in relief and look around for any sign of a parent, adult, anyone looking for a missing child. “Where’s your—”
“Lily! There you are!” A man’s voice cuts through the dull noise of the city. You turn around to see him rushing over to the little girl, grimacing apologetically at you. “Sorry. I’m not a negligent father, I swear. I just… turned around and this little monkey’s run off.”
The little girl—Lily, apparently— giggles as her dad throws her a look, gentle but firm. “You said we could watch the water fountains, Daddy!”
“Yeah, but don’t run off like that…” He rolls his eyes, though you notice his sharp jaw twitching with a hidden smile. And then, leaning into Lily’s ear but still loud enough within your earshot, “And you certainly weren’t supposed to invade this nice lady’s personal space—”
“It’s no trouble. I was just sitting here,” you quickly wave him off.
“Daddy, can I play over there?” Lily points at the streaming water at the center of the park.
The man pulls a face. “I don’t know, Lil—”
“Come on, Daddy…”
“No way.”
“Just for five minutes. Please?” She bats her eyelashes, and you can immediately tell it’s her father’s Achilles heel. Because as much as you try to stay out of the conversation, you can hear the audible sigh coming from him, followed by,
“Fine. Five minutes, okay?”
The little girl bolts off to the fountains, tiny hands reaching out to the jet streams, testing out how strong it is. Figuring out the fountain pattern and stepping on each jet right as it shuts off, one foot after the other. It makes you wish it was socially acceptable for adults to do that, too.
“You’re free to sit and watch her from here, if you want.”
He looks at you, like really looks at you for the first time. At your rolled-up button-down, the chain around your neck with a pendant he can’t see under your collar. But mostly at your kind eyes—weathered, witnessed, but somehow not judging.
He pushes his short blond hair out of his face the same way the little girl does, and the similarity almost makes you laugh… if you weren’t so worried about making a fool of yourself in front of this handsome man. “You sure? I… didn’t want to intrude.”
You shake your head softly and scoot over on the steps, allowing him just enough space to sit down.
He notices the stubbed cigarette between your forefinger and middle finger. “You got another one on you?”
It takes you a beat to realize what he’s talking about. “Oh!” You reach for your pack of Camel, and offer it to him, one cigarette stick already pushed out for easier access.
He takes it with a polite smile, but then pauses upon realizing he has no lighter either. “Um, do you mind if I borrow—”
You lean in as he puts it between his lips, one hand cupping the light from the breeze, and his heart stops at how close you are. Close enough to notice the gloss on your lips. Close enough to get a faint whiff of your floral perfume.
(And unbeknownst to him, your heart stutters a little, too, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you fumble lighting your own cigarette.)
“Thanks, um…” he trails off.
You tell him your name, and he repeats it almost thoughtfully. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of your name as it leaves his mouth.
He nods. “I’m Art.”
He does look like it. The navy blue sweater hangs just right on his broad shoulders, understated but high-quality. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing a sleek black Piguet around his wrist. A simplicity to complement his refined features. His bone structure is cut like the gods, but the permanent frown etched between his brows, casting a shadow over his deep-set eyes, tells you that he is facing the troubles of man. And the awkward way he’s holding his cigarette makes him look like a boy. Of course, you can’t say any of that to him, so you settle with,
“Nice to meet you, Art.”
He can’t remember the last time somebody said that to him and meant it. And right now, sitting in this concrete park alone, he can see no pretense coming from you. No ass-kissing, no sizing-up, just a genuine kind gesture of a stranger. And it makes him so fucking relieved.
“So what brings you out here?”
“Work, actually. A meeting,” Art replies somewhat vaguely. He’s not really keen on divulging the details of sponsorship and endorsement deals. Not when you don’t seem to know who he is. “Lily saw the park from the window and insisted we check it out when we’re done.”
“Ah, does she normally tag along with you to work meetings?” You ask with a playful glint, although the unspoken question of his whole situation is well heard. “She should. She looks like a great negotiator. Just saying.”
He chuckles. “Maybe she should. My, uh…” Art stops himself before he could say ‘wife’ because Tashi isn’t that anymore. Not his wife because they aren’t married anymore; not his coach either, because he doesn’t play tennis anymore. “Lily’s mom and I take turns every other week.”
And there it is. Your lips pull up into a soft line, not quite a smile but a gesture of understanding. “Must be tough.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a lot of changes. But she’s doing okay, I think…” Art pauses, “I hope.”
You follow his gaze and look at Lily, who must be playing some kind of Indiana Jones fantasy scenario with the water fountains. Not an ounce of care in the world. “She looks like a tough kid.”
“She is.” Art smiles bittersweetly. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my sob story. What brings you to this park?”
The air that pulls both of you in releases, and you lean back on your elbows against the concrete. “Oh, I just finished work and I… needed some air.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m an interpreter.”
His eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Like the Nicole Kidman movie?”
“Exactly.” You point your half-cigarette at him, and share a tentative smile with him.
“Do you do, like… high-profile, UN-related assassination investigations, too?”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s not nearly as cool in real life. Most of it’s pretty boring, like contract negotiations and focus group discussions…”
“But the stories you must’ve heard, right? Or do you just… zone out at some point?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes you end up shutting off your brain and go on autopilot.”
“But not today?”
You smile ruefully at him, and he knows the answer. You take a thoughtful puff of your cigarette. “It’s… a bit hard when they’re talking about… how they had to jump off of the ship and swim across the channel in the dead of night, because they would rather die in the open water—a couple of them did— than die working in the fishing vessel…”
“Fuck.”
“And I know it’s not really meant for me—they’re talking to my client sitting next to me. But when they look you in the eyes and speak to you…” you trail off, taking a long drag of your cigarette.
Art takes it as a cue for his cigarette, too, although he notices you tapping the ashes off one, two, three times. “Must be tough.”
You roll your eyes playfully at him for quoting your own words back to you. “Ah well, it pays the bills. Besides, I get to clock out at 2PM on a Tuesday and enjoy this…” you inhale through your teeth disdainfully, “beautiful, brutalist… Soviet-core park.”
He laughs, the real kind of laughter that throws his head back, and it warms your heart enough to laugh, too. “It’s bullshit, isn’t it?”
“It’s bullshit! And what the fuck is that horrendous giant ring doing here?” The two of you cackle over the installation art across the park. “And that billboard… it’s ridiculous.”
Art’s laughter dies down on his lips as he looks up at the billboard in question. The Aston Martin “Game Changers” campaign from last year. Fuck. Even when he’s completely separated from Tashi, her presence still looms over like a panopticon.
You turn to him with a smile still etched on your face, completely oblivious to the storm in his head. “What?”
But he looks ahead, too caught up in the hurricane to hear you. He just… looks up at the billboard, his face darkens.
Oh.
You feel silly for not putting two and two together—you’ve been staring at the billboard mindlessly for a good fifteen minutes, goddammit— so you tread very carefully. “That, uh… Lily’s mom?”
Art looks down on his lap, as if not daring to look at Tashi’s picture. Or at Lily, or at you. “Yeah.”
There’s no right word for it. There’s no coming back from this, nothing he can say can make this better, and he can’t help but kick himself for fucking up. What he is fucking up, he’s not entirely sure. But he’s not ready to end this conversation with you, not on such a weird note.
“I can’t imagine what it must be like…” because you can’t. Losing a spouse is hard enough, but to have it out there in the open…
“It’s tough,” he nods in confirmation, and you smile feebly at his attempt at a callback to your little inside joke. To the moment where things are fine, all things considered.
If the air ebbed and flowed earlier, it must’ve just… froze now. You don’t even remember the cigarette in your hand until the ash falls onto your hand and you gasp at the sudden heat, putting it out on the ground.
“I’m sorry. I should get out of your hair—”
“Do you wanna get a drink some time?”
The question catches both of you off-guard, eyes blinking at each other in shock. He didn’t think he heard you right, and your mouth seems to work faster than the filter in your brain.
Your face runs hot, and you chuckle sheepishly. “Sorry. You probably don’t wanna hear that—”
“I do.” He’s not sure which question he’s answering. Maybe both? Definitely both.
“Oh! Um…”
And right in that moment, Lily comes padding over with squelching steps in her shoes, completely drenched but over the moon. “Daddy, Daddy, that was so much fun! Can we come back here? I see lights on the floor, and I think the fountain lights up at night!”
Art puts out his cigarette under his shoe, chuckling at his daughter, “Baby, you’re soaked! Did you try to take a shower there or something?” immediately wringing water out of her hair.
“I’ll take a real shower when we get home.”
“Well, duh. But I don’t want you to catch a cold… come here.” He crosses his arm to grab the hem of his sweater and tug it over his head to put it on his daughter.
The girl looks thoroughly unamused as the clothing item falls halfway down her calves and the sleeves nearly touch the ground. “Daddy, this is ridiculous.”
You grin, and you can’t help but wonder how much of that sass came from Art. “Looks pretty chic to me.”
He nods at you, glad that you’re backing him up. “Thank you.” He then turns to Lily pointedly.
Lily half-smiles at you. “Thank you,” although she still isn’t quite convinced.
“I’m sorry, we really gotta go. But how do I, um…” he trails off. Gosh, he was hoping to do this out of Lily’s sight. Lily’s sight means Tashi’s sight, and he’s not ready for that talk just yet.
“Take my card.” You whip out a neat stainless steel case, and slides out a white-and-blue business card. Your name is printed in a sleek black font, right above ‘Interpreter’ in a smaller case. Your email and phone number follows.
His fingers brush against yours as he takes it, and he prays to God or whoever is up there that he doesn’t give anything away to you or Lily. Not a quirk, not a peep. Just two strangers connecting by chance.
“Thank you.” He nods evenly as he pockets the card, trying to contain the butterflies in his stomach—he’s always thought he was too old for that by now, but maybe… just maybe… “You have a nice day.”
“You, too.” You squint up at him under the sun, and then smile and wave at the little girl. “Bye, Lily.”
She waves at you as Art sweeps her up into his arms, and you don’t let yourself turn all the way around to watch them leave. Instead, with one final look at Art’s “Game Changers” billboard ad in the distance, you grab your pack of Camel and light another cigarette between your lips.
#art donaldson#divorced!art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#divorced!art x reader#art donaldson fluff#eeeeeeeee im so h-word physically and emotionally for him#ava writes#challengers fic
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"It really hurts Deborah's feelings. Deborah really cares about what Ava thinks, and whether or not the show is funny. So, that's where things start to really get tense." — Lucia Aniello
HACKS: S01E06, "New Eyes" / S04E05, "Clickable Face"
#hacks#hacks spoilers#deborah vance#ava daniels#avadeb#hacks hbo#hacksedit#hboedit#femalegifsource#avadebedit#dailytvwomen#userbru#userclara#*#ava x deb#hacks405#hacks106#hackspara#this was so mean and i fr dont think she means it like. deb is still the funniest person to her i refuse to think otherwise#the writers have talked about them both backsliding and my reading is her just getting so wrapped up in whats cool and even tho debs funny#ava has this weird obsession with seeming high brow and being seen a certain way meanwhile debs focused on pandering#and neither of them are making the show the best it can be#i think its also like now that ava has some actual ownership of the work shes not able to be objective about it like she was writing before
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