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#hit the wrong button && it suddenly posted it
jayswing101 · 6 months
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Hello hi sorry for all the sudden reblogs tonight 😅 my reblogs haven't been working properly since like November and they just started being normal again, so i was kind of. Mass reblogging a bunch of the posts i had wanted to reblog before but couldn't. I'm done now tho!!
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wildwoof · 1 year
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ABOUT THE MUN
– 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 –
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NAME : felicity - or just feli
ARE YOU OVER 18? :   yes / no
IS YOUR MUSE? :  yes/ no ( he is 18 )
ARE YOU SELECTIVE ABOUT WHO YOU WRITE WITH ON THIS BLOG? : no ( anyone ) / semi ( most people ) / yes / highly / private ( mutuals only )  
ARE YOU SELECTIVE ABOUT WHO YOU FOLLOW ON THIS BLOG? : no ( anyone ) / semi / yes / highly
IF YOUR MUSE IS CANON, HOW MUCH DO YOU ADHERE TO CANON? : not at all / a little / some / mostly / strictly / I write my own canon.
WHAT POST LENGTHS DO YOU WRITE? : one liners / single - para / multi - para / novella
DO YOU USE ICONS AND / OR GIFS? : no / gifs / icons/ gif icons
DO YOU WRITE ON OTHER PLATFORMS? : no ( still awkwardly getting into discord rp ) / yes
WHAT LEVEL OF PLOTS DO YOU WRITE? : unplotted / open ended plots / semi - plotted / fully plotted epics
HOW QUICKLY DO YOU USUALLY RESPOND TO THREADS? : very slow ( more than a month ) / slow ( 3 - 4 weeks )/ average ( 1 - 2 weeks ) / fast ( less than one week ) / very fast ( less than three days )
WHAT TYPES OF THEMES DO YOU LIKE? : fluff / angst / smut / action / tragedy / domestic/ family / conversational / hurt - comfort
WHAT GENRES DO YOU LIKE? : high fantasy / supernatural /science fiction / historical / horror / comedy / romantic / drama / action / adventure / espionage / everything
ARE THERE ANY THEMES YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WRITING ON YOUR BLOG? :   no / yes
DO YOU HAVE ANY TRIGGERS? :  no / yes / kinda
HOW DO YOU REQUEST IT BE TAGGED? : n/a
– 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 –
WHAT TYPES OF RELATIONSHIPS ARE YOU OPEN TO? : romantic / platonic / familial /  physical / sexual
WHAT TYPES OF PRE - ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS ARE YOU OPEN TO? : romantic / platonic / familial / physical / sexual / prefer to plot
DO YOU HAVE OTPS? : no / chemistry only / yes
DO YOU HAVE NOTPS? : no / yes / i don’t know
ARE YOU COMFORTABLE WRITING SMUT? : no / selectively / yes
HOW EARLY IN A RELATIONSHIP DO YOU SHIP ROMANTICALLY? : autoship / during plotting / after a couple IC interactions /several IC interactions / slow burn / depends on partner & muse
ARE YOU OPEN TO TOXIC SHIPS? : no / selectively / yes
ARE YOU OPEN TO PROBLEMATIC SHIPS? : no / selectively / yes
ARE YOU OPEN TO POLYSHIPPING? : no  / selectively / yes
ARE YOU AN EXCLUSIVE SHIPPER? : no / sometimes / yes
DOES CRACK SHIPPING EVER HAPPEN? : no / sometimes / yes
DOES CROSSOVER SHIPPING EVER HAPPEN? : no / yes / depends
tagged: @ubiquitousidol (<3) tagging: @ironicxblue , @chibskimuses , @assembledstars , @awesomeuchuu , && whoever else!
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my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻
Promises, Promises.
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warnings - smut. cursing.
I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
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You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.
"What's wrong, honey?"
"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"
Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?
"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."
The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.
"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"
He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.
"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."
"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.
"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."
"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."
You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.
"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."
"I'm... what?"
"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."
You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.
"Is that so?"
"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."
He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.
"He's wrong."
"Is that so?"
You roll your eyes.
"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."
"And why not?"
"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."
Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.
"He's your age."
"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."
He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.
"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"
Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.
"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."
"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."
"Me too."
Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.
He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.
Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.
You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.
"Strip."
You blink at him, processing.
"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."
You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.
Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.
"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"
"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."
"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."
You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.
"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."
"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."
He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.
"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"
You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.
"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"
The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.
"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."
His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.
"House first."
"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.
"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."
He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.
You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.
You'll deal with the repercussions later.
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suashii · 4 months
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— 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓊𝓃 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 1.3k wc. ノ sfw ノ fluff ノ non-canon compliant ノ farmhand!boothill ノ flirty teasing ノ pet names ( sweetheart :3 ) ノ mentions of food
previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part
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boothill is usually making his way back to the house by now, but you don’t hear the click of the door opening to announce his arrival or the sound of him kicking off his boots at the entryway. his schedule has become familiar to you as you’ve established one of your own and you’ve taken note of how he always strolls in around lunchtime. you’ve taken note of other things, too, like his big appetite, how he eats whatever you cook without complaint, and the way he never fails to thank you for the meal.
his flattery when it comes to your cooking skills knows no bounds and consistently earns eye rolls on your end but it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his gentlemanly qualities.
lunch is just about ready and the farmhand is nowhere in sight. you turn to your grandpa who’s sitting at the table as you wipe your hands on the dish towel. “did boothill go out?”
his focus shifts from his half-finished crossword puzzle to you. “not that i know of. he’s probably just finishing up.”
he’s right, the man could be in any minute for all you know. but something feels wrong about setting the table and starting to eat without him. as much as he grates on your nerves and makes you feel feelings you’d much rather bury, you’ve grown used to three people sitting around the table. the next words that push past your lips make you wonder if you’re truly the one to speak them.
“i’ll just let him know the food is ready.”
your grandpa hums in acknowledgment, letting you slip past the sliding doors without protest.
the heat of the air hits you immediately and you close the door behind you quickly to be sure it doesn’t warm up the kitchen. the long-sleeved blouse you put on this morning suddenly feels excessive as you traverse the grounds in search of boothill.
it’s not as easy to find him as it has been in the past and you’re beginning to think that he did leave but the fact just slipped your grandpa’s mind. you’re nearing the edge of the property when you consider dropping the manhunt and returning to the house. maybe boothill won’t mind if you set aside his plate for later with a little note explaining that you couldn’t find him.
the moment you think about turning around, something catches your eye. there’s something propped up on the post of the split rail fence. you squint your eyes to get a better look only to realize it’s not something, it’s someone—boothill.
he’s sitting up with his back against the post and his feet stretched to the next—they’re crossed at the ankle. his arms are crossed, too, resting comfortably on his stomach. the hat that’s usually situated atop his head is tipped down to shield his face from the sun’s harsh, bright rays.
you’re unsure if he’s awake or not so you approach him quietly, light steps carrying you closer to the man. the wind catches his hair, blowing unbound black and white strands in rhythm with the breeze. your newfound proximity offers you a better glimpse at the man, namely his exposed chest that you didn’t take notice of a few seconds ago. his shirt is unbuttoned nearly to where it’s tucked into his jeans, leaving smooth, glistening skin on display. even the addition of a denim vest over the white button-up isn’t enough to hide his tanned skin and the beads of sweat forming on it.
you catch yourself staring and shake your head before turning it up to look at the clouds. the blue sky and fluffy spots of white are a pretty sight but the picturesque scene does nothing to help you get the image of boothill’s toned abdomen out of your head. you fear it’s stuck to your eyelids, haunting you every time you dare to blink.
how are you going to look at him across the table without imagining what’s under his shirt now?
the thought reminds you of why you came out here in the first place—you’re supposed to be bringing him inside for lunch. you’re sure he’s asleep by now—he most definitely would have felt your greedy gaze on him if he weren’t—but you’re willing to stir him from his nap if it means getting him out of this summer heat (and getting him to cover up).
you cautiously reach out to take his hat in your hand, lifting the accessory away from his face. you’re not sure how the sudden introduction of light doesn’t bother him but he remains still like you never disturbed him at all.
his resting expression is different from the others you’ve seen paint his face. there’s no crease between his eyebrows like there is when he’s working hard, no curl to his lips like when he’s got a teasing remark on his tongue. he simply looks peaceful, calm, unbothered. pretty, you have to stop yourself from saying aloud.
and it’s all ruined in a moment.
“see somethin’ you like, sweetheart?” his eyes don’t open but the little smirk you so often find him wearing has made itself comfortable on his lips. you take a startled step back—you were sure he had nodded off. how long has he been awake? does he know you were staring?
the lack of an answer from you leads boothill to open his eyes, though they squint almost instantly upon being met with the brightness of the sun. although, that doesn’t stop him from meeting your eye and holding your gaze.
you disregard his question and keep your eyes on his face, not risking letting your gaze fall below his neck. “if you’re tired, you should go sleep in the house. it’s way too hot to nap out here.”
his eyebrows raise ever-so-slightly at your suggestion, smile unwavering. conversely, yours furrow at the change in his expression—nothing good can come of it. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’re worried about me.”
you press your lips together. is that what led you out here—your worry about him missing a meal? worry doesn’t feel like the right word… you simply want to adhere to your routine which, whether you like it or not, now includes boothill. that’s that, worry is out of the question.
“i’m not worried,” you tell him, clenching your fists as if that’ll help you convince yourself. it’s only then that you realize you’re still holding his hat. you look down at it in your hand and suddenly your palm and the tips of your fingers feel hot, like that hat is a scorching fire that’s burning you. you quickly toss the accessory into the man’s lap. “i only came out here to tell you lunch is ready.”
having gotten your job done, you turn on your heel and start back towards the house. you only make it a few steps before boothill is coming up beside you, his steps falling into rhythm with yours. it’s a mistake to glance his way as he hasn’t bothered buttoning up his shirt and his hands are stuffed in his pockets like he had no intention of doing so.
you're not so lucky to go unnoticed this time and it would be unlike boothill not to comment on your wandering eyes. “what? like my outfit that much?”
you silently scold yourself for staring, eye flitting away from him. “it’s fine.”
“oh? somethin’ else catch your eye, then?” he asks, and you can hear the humor in his voice. “maybe it’s my—”
“oh my god!” your hands fly up to cover your ears and they’re hot to the touch. “shush!”
despite the barrier, you can still hear his hearty chuckle that comes at your expense. 
the thought comes far too late but you realize you would have been much better off leaving him to bake in the sun, never making the effort to call him in at all. because now, even after you’ve made it through lunch, washed the dishes, and are back in the comfort of your bedroom, you’re still going to be thinking about the farmhand and his annoyingly perfect abs.
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thanks for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated ❤︎
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borathae · 5 months
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Close Shave | Jungkook x f.Reader
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↳ Full Art
"You walk in on Jungkook using your razor to shave his balls and the bratty question for help on his lips. It's only fitting to help him, if only so you can give him a sexy little punishment for touching your things."
Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life Smut
Warnings: sub!Jungkook who is the cutest pookie, mean Dom!Reader, he tries to make her laugh, until she accidentally gets him horny, then he tries so hard not to make her notice his boner, spoiler alert: it was her plan to make him hard, she shaves his dick and balls, handjob, edging, multiple orgasms (m. receiving), whiney!Koo, some dirty talk, overstimulation, ruined orgasms & post-orgasm torture, begging & subby boy tears, male squirting :'), soft & cuddly aftercare, he is so cozy in subspace hehe <3, they're in love <3
Wordcount: 4.5k
a/n: sometimes i give myself new kinks and i think that's beautiful :') have fun besties, i missed writing this kind of Koo 🤍
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You knock on the downstairs bathroom door.
“Sweetie, are you okay in there?” 
Jungkook has music playing, but is worryingly quiet. Normally when he listens to music in the bathroom, you can always hear him singing to it. He did so at first, but became worryingly quiet all of a sudden.
“You didn’t slip and fall in there, did you?” 
Jungkook doesn’t answer you. Your worry grows. He’s got Chase Atlantic playing and he isn’t singing to them. He loves singing to Chase Atlantic. Something must have happened.
“I’m worried, I’m coming in. Last chance to stop me”, you tell him loudly and open the door. 
Jungkook reveals himself to your eyes instantly. He is sitting on the floor with his back against the sink counter. He is in his white button up and slippers, but doesn’t wear any pants, sitting with his legs spread and his head right between them. A silver bowl filled with dirty water stands in front of him. Shaving cream and hair swims in it.
“Oh? Sorry”, you gasp.
Jungkook’s head shoots up, his big eyes look you up and down.
“Since when are you here?” he exclaims, “you scared me, wah, don’t do that. I have blades against my balls.”
“Sorry, oh god.” You laugh. “You were suddenly so quiet and I was worried that you slipped and hit your head. I didn’t know that you were shaving.”
“Yeah well, trying to. The razor sucks ass”, he says, waving the pink razor around.
“Is this my razor? And my shaving cream?!” 
He pulls a sorry “I’m a little shit” face. 
“No?”
“Jungkook, I shave my armpits with that. I don’t need your ball hair on it”, you whine.
“Hey, you’re acting as if you never had my balls in your face before.”
“It’s about the principles. You doofus, you’re gonna dull the blades.”
“No, I won’t. They’ve already been dull since the beginning”, he says and demonstrates their inability to shave on his crotch.
“You’re doing it wrong. No, what- Kook, you’re doing it wrong.”
“Urgh I knew it”, he groans and stands up. The view is a little funny. White dress shirt, black slippers and crotch messy in shaving cream. He presents the razor to you, “show me.” 
“Sorry?” 
“Show me. I promise I’ll be a good boy.”
“You saying it like that makes me think you’re not gonna be a good boy.”
He smirks playfully. You study it with a fluttering pulse. It could be fun. You could use it to give him a little punishment for taking your stuff. 
“Fine”, you give in, “sit on the counter.”
“Okie dokie”, Jungkook says, jumping on the counter with a giggle, “look at us. Shaving my balls together.”
You roll your eyes, bending down to get the bowl. You put it on the counter next to him, cleaning the razor under running water. Once clean, you walk to him. 
He opens his legs for you, making grabby hands at you. You meet his eyes. They’re sparkling boyishly.
“Don’t give me that face”, you say.
“I’m not even doing anything”, he defends himself, fluttering his lashes at you.
“Yeah sure.” 
You step between his legs, chuckling when he instantly grabs you and kneads you. 
“Doofus.”
“Heh, you’re pretty”, he says, earning himself another fond roll of your eyes.
“Scoot to the edge.”
He follows. 
You bend down and place your hand on his balls to stretch the skin. The razor touches his skin.
“Careful. If you cut them off, you’re at a loss too.”
“I’m gonna be careful”, you say in a chuckle, dragging the razor through his bush. It picks up a good strip of it.
You straighten up and clean it in the bowl.
“Woah, how did you manage to get so much?” Jungkook gasps.
“Practice. You had the angle all wrong”, you say, bending down again. 
“I knew that it was user error.”
“No, you didn’t. You said the blades were dull.”
“No, I didn’t”, he says, clearly being playful. 
“Mhm sure”, you mumble, feeling oh so very fond of him.
You and he share silence, which the music fills. You can listen to Jungkook singing softly and every time you straighten up to clean the razor, he gives you a little grin. One you never retort because you kind of enjoy acting a little annoyed. He knows that it’s pretend and therefore tries to make you laugh and he’s cute when he does. One time he tapped your head to the beat of the song, another he rubbed your neck to the melody as he sang the lyrics with all his heart. Another time he called you pretty, while yet another time he tried it with a silly joke about pubes. His attempts were very good and whenever you had your face between his legs and he couldn’t see it, you let a fond smile wash over it. 
You are straightened up again, cleaning the razor in the bowl. Jungkook watches you, gazing at your face more than anywhere else. 
You bend down again, shoving his balls to the other side.
“Oh? Careful”, he chuckles, “that was quite the shove.”
“Sorry, I gotta do the other side now”, you tell him, furrowing your brows as you guide the razor through the first patch. 
Jungkook stays still, but puts his fingers on your head.
“How many fingers?” he asks.
“I’m tryna concentrate”, you tell him with concentrated brows. 
“Try. I’m making it easy”, he says, wiggling his fingers.
“Three.”
“Correct. See? I knew you could do it.”
You scoff, “doofus.”
You clean out the razor then go straight back to shaving him. Jungkook watches you.
“It’s kinda funny to see you between my legs like that and only have you shave me. Normally you’re doing something very different when you’re like this.”
You stop mid-shave, keeping the blade on his skin as you lift your eyes. 
“You lift your eyes like that too when you do.”
“You’re so annoying”, you mumble and look back at his balls to finish the shave. You smile.
“I saw that.”
“You saw nothing.”
“I’m pretty sure I did. You smiled.”
“I was gritting my teeth in concentration. Like this.” You straighten up and show it to him. “See?”
Jungkook laughs, scrunching his face for it.
“No, you weren’t. I saw you smile.”
“Whatever you saw, it didn’t happen”, you say and bend down again. But before you can, Jungkook stops you with a finger under your chin. 
“Mhm?”
He leans in, stealing a kiss. You grab his thighs instantly, kissing him back with a fluctuating pulse.
The kiss breaks with a bite to your lower lip and his lips curling into a smile.
“I love your smile”, he whispers, following it up with a giggle and peck attack to your lips.
You huff out air to cover up your chuckle, nudging his chest, “doofus.”
You bend down, unable to hide your smile. Jungkook soaks up the view with a fluttering heart. He is having so much fun right now. Spending time with you like this is new and exciting. He also likes the little game you make him play. You are so obvious when you only pretend to be annoyed and he gets so nicely competitive to make you break that he could squeal now that he finally sees your smile.
Your smile soon drops however. A look of concentration replaces it as you guide the razor over his skin smoothly. You clean it and go straight back in, putting your fingers on his dick to move it aside. 
“I think JK Junior has a preference to fall left.”
“Yeah, definitely...JK Junior? Really?”
“Yeah.”
You chuckle, “you’re annoying.”
Jungkook bites down his squeals, having a hard time with it. He loves making you laugh! 
“Should I hold him?” he offers.
“No, keep your hands to yourself.”
“Okay”, Jungkook says and runs his fingers over the nape of your neck.
“I didn’t know my neck was yourself.”
“I’m not touching JK Junior, am I?”
You scoff, following it up with a little chuckle.
“You’re annoying.”
Jungkook snickers, kicking his feet.
“Hey!”
“Oop!”
He tenses up, gawking at you with big eyes.
“No kicking. I’ll cut you on accident.”
“Sorry.”
You clean the razor, “I’m almost done, don’t worry.”
“Already?”
You glance at him. He is pouting.
“Are you sad about that?”
“Yeah.” He pouts harder. “This is so much fun.”
You hide the victorious smile. It’s all going according to plan. You knew that he wouldn’t be happy with just his balls. Now the real fun is going to begin. All of this was just a warm up, the perfect way to get Jungkook into a giddy kind of mood. And when he is in this kind of mood, it is terribly easy to turn him on. Oh, you are going to have so much fun with him. 
“Fine, I’ll do JK Junior too”, you fake your annoyance, “good god, I knew you would do that”, you add, bending down to do the last part of his balls.
“Yay thankies. I swear it’s just because you’re so much better at it than me.”
You feel ecstatic. Look at him still thinking that he is in control when you are playing him like a fucking game.
“Yeah sure”, you say and finish the shave. You straighten up, clean the razor, then leave to get the shaving cream. 
“The cream is really good. It smells so nice”, Jungkook says, “flowery and sweet. I like it.”
“Yeah and it’s only fourty bucks”, you say sarcastically.
“What?” He widens his eyes. “Fourty bucks?!”
“Yeah and you used way too much.”
“Fuck, sorry. I thought it’s like four bucks. Mine’s like three sixty.”
“No, I always get the expensive one.”
“Why? Cream is cream. Wouldn’t a normal one do the trick too?”
“Sure, but this one lasts me more than a year ‘cause I only have to use a little.” 
“Sorry, I’ll get you the next one.”
“Mhm, okay”, you say and begins spreading some on his crotch area.
“Okay, I definitely used too much. Look at how well it foams up.”
“Right? It’s really good”, you say and wipe some on his nose.
“Hey”, he gasps and laughs, wiping the foam away, “not cool.”
You give him a grin and pick up the razor. You have a plan. You will do the first few shaves normally and then go in with the attack. Jungkook doesn’t suspect a thing. He is still singing and making jokes with no idea of what will happen soon. Oh, you are going to ruin him. 
You finish three small patches. It is finally time. Your heart is racing as you go in. You pick up his cock, holding it in your hand. Act innocent at first. Make him believe you are only making it easier for you, only to drive him desperate with your warm hand little by fucking little.
Jungkook stops singing for just a second, but then continues. He feels it, but doesn’t want to pull attention to it. Oh, you could squeal. 
You clean the razor, releasing his dick. For now. You will do two more like this and then you won’t pull your hand away when you clean.
It goes well and then the fourth patch comes. You don’t pull your hand away, keeping it around his cock with just enough pressure that he feels it.
Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle. You look at him with faux confusion in your eyes.
“Why are you laughing?” 
“Nothing, uhm, you’re pretty.”
“Doofus”, you say, smiling internally. Of course he’ll act innocent. He is still in the belief that this is innocent, that you are just shaving his dick. He won’t tell you that the warm pressure around his cock is starting to affect him. 
But you know him better. You know that his brain is currently trying to zone in on nothing but your touch, while he is actively trying not to make it do that. He doesn’t sing as much anymore because he needs to concentrate. He is so adorable. 
You won’t have to do this for long anymore and then you can move to the next step. Oh, he is going to have a very hard time with that. You have the perfect plan. 
You increase the pressure whenever you clean the razor, doing the smallest pulsing motions with your fingers. You make sure to keep them small enough that they aren’t noticeable, but that he will ask himself why it suddenly feels so much better. By the third time, you hear him exhale shakily. He hasn’t sung to the entire song by now. 
You look up, watching as Jungkook tries to make a normal expression. He had his jaw tightened and brows furrowed before that as he secretly tries to keep the blood from shooting to his cock. 
“You good?” you ask him.
“Yeah. Yeah totally”, he says, nodding his head vigorously, “you uhm…do you have to do a lot more?”
“Mhm?” you look at his crotch and act as if you needed to inspect him, moving his cock from side to side with your hand moving around his tip. 
Jungkook sucks in air, tensing his thighs. His cock hardens a little in your hand. Not enough to be visibly noticeable, but you can feel it.
“Mhm, I would say that we still have some way to go. Why? Did your butt fall asleep on the counter?”
“No”, he laughs breathily, “no, not at all.”
“Okay, just say if it does”, you say and bend down to drag the razor over his skin. You pretend to struggle with the position and to fix it by moving his cock to the side with a pulse around his tip.
Jungkook doesn’t sing at all anymore. He is actually very quiet and you know that it’s because he is trying so hard to keep his breathing silent as to not make it obvious that he needs to breathe to regulate himself. But of course you notice because he is not slick with it. Unlike his cock, which is beginning to be slick between your fingers. 
You straighten up to clean the razor, pulling your hand from his cock. Jungkook’s hips chase you, but he tense up when you look at him again. He is giving you such intense eye contact that you know for a fact that he is trying to distract you. Oh, he definitely noticed how hard his cock is. 
He can’t even think of a joke right now, simply staring at you with a nervous smile on his lips. 
You don’t retort it for show, looking at his cock again.
“Mhm”, you let out loudly, furrowing your brows. You want him thinking that you noticed his semi. 
Jungkook tenses up in panic.
“It’s not-”
“I don’t know how to get that part, mhm”, you interrupt him, “oh? Sorry, did you wanna say something?”
“Huh? No, not at all”, he says and laughs nervously.
“You’re so weird sometimes”, you mumble and pick up his cock to move it to the side. Unlike before, you don’t use your entire hand for it, instead you keep three fingers on nothing but his tip, moving them up and down as little as possible. Again, it shouldn’t be obvious, but he should suddenly ask himself why it feels so good. 
And he does. He is trying not to show it, but he must currently scream in his head. His thighs keep tensing and he is doing a worse job at masking his heavy breathing. 
You clean the razor, retreating your touch. 
“I think this part is easier to shave. You got more room”, you tell him calmly.
“Yeah, totally. I totally agree with you. Totally.”
“Are you okay? You’re talking weird”, you say and gasp, “oh god, did I cut you somewhere?” you exclaim and pick up his cock to move from it side to side with your hand pulsing around his tip, “you should have told me. Gosh baby, where is it? I can’t see anything.”
“No, it’s”, he is squeaking, arching his back and grasping your wrist to stop you, “you didn’t cut me. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” you look up at him. 
He nods his head vigorously, “I’m coolio.”
“Okay, if you say so”, you say and change grip to three fingers on his tip. His cock is so hard by now that you know that this round will be enough to make him fully erect. The fact that he still hasn’t acknowledged it, acting as if he isn’t completely out of breath, is giving you the biggest butterflies ever. He is so bad at pretending and it’s so exciting to you. You won’t say anything either, you will continue to act oblivious while you drive him insane with just three fingers. 
You work meticulously to shave him while your fingers move up and down his tip secretly. Jungkook grips the edge of the counter again, tensing his stomach to prevent his back from arching. 
You clean the razor, dropping his cock again. You make sure to look at the water, but in reality you watch him from the corners of your eyes. His cock twitches and leaks. Jungkook gasps and goes to wipe it away quickly, hitting it in an attempt to make it go down, which results in a more aggressive throb because he likes it. 
“Mmh.”
You look at him. Jungkook scrambles into a relaxed position quickly, fumbling for words but he can't think of anything. 
“Everything alright?” 
“Mh-hm”, he gets out, nodding his head vigorously.
You move back to shaving him, picking up his cock between your fingers. You want to stay longer this time around, do the strokes in three tries while your fingers massage his tip secretly. You keep pressure on the spots, using the shaving cream as slip. Jungkook’s thighs are flexed, his abs engaged. You glance at his hands. His knuckles are white because he is using so much strength to grip the counter, resulting in his veins to bulge all the way from his hands to his elbows. He is so sexy. 
You make sure to slow down more, to really drag it out. He should be desperate once you’re done, he should crave your touch again and ask himself why on fucking earth he is such a needy fucking man. And oh how you drag it out, how good you time it. You pull back at the perfect time which results in Jungkook to arch his back and whisper a curse. 
You glance at his face. He is scrunching it, gritting his teeth as well. You edged him. And he isn’t even aware that you can see his agonised face because he is too busy trying to suffer in secret. Fuck, you want him like crazy. 
But you stay quiet. You look away before he opens his eyes and clean the razor with an innocent expression. You can feel his eyes on you. They are begging you as much as they are trying to figure out if you were actually that blind to his problem. You don’t grand him eye contact, moving in instantly. 
Jungkook sucks in air, tensing up again. You dare to glance up at him. As you had figured, his eyes are closed. He is biting down on his lower lip, flaring his nostrils as his nose tries to keep up with all the wheezing he is hiding from you. His eyes are closed. You can dare to increase your touches. He is too preoccupied with suffering quietly to watch them become obvious. You allow yourself his initial reaction to the increasing pleasure. He opens his mouth to moan only to remember in the last moment that he needs to be quiet and he bites down on his lip again, tilting his head back just enough to reveal his throat. He is so sexy, holy fuck. 
You look back at his crotch, concentrating on gliding the razor over his skin safely. It might not be obvious yet, but you actually want to do a good job in shaving him. He’ll come out of this experience smooth and with a scrambled brain. You are making sure of it. You finish the round the moment Jungkook’s hips dared to chase you. 
The latter lets out a small whimper, squirming on the counter because you had him so close. 
“I like this razor. I don’t know how you used it, but it’s not dull at all”, you speak calmly.
“Yeah uh, yeah I don’t know.”
“It’s probably because you used too much cream”, you say and pick up his cock, keeping the movements minimal again because his eyes are on you. You put the razor to his skin and drag it up his skin. Your fingers massage his tip, Jungkook tenses up more. More. More. 
“Oh god”, he squeaks and begins twitching as the pleasure finally gets too much. You move the razor away for safety reasons, gawking at his flushed cock shoot all over his tummy and your hand. He is writhing, thrusting his hips into your touch as he cums with his panicked eyes first looking at his cock, before meeting your darkened gaze. 
“Seriously?” you ask him, cocking your brow up.
“Sorry”, he whimpers, reaching for you with the goal of kissing you. It feels so good that the shame is minimal to him right now. 
But you aren’t happy. You need him to suffer a little more, you need him confessing how bad he needs your touch. You pull back in the best moment, ruining his high which results in Jungkook to sob in agony with his hips fucking the air.
“Please, please it hurts please. Touch me please.”
“Well, that didn’t take long”, you say, placing the razor aside, “it only took you twenty minutes to finally admit it. A new record”, you say sarcastically.
“You knew?” he gasps out, writhing.
“Duh. You think it felt that good accidentally? I was touching you from the beginning”, you say and pick up his cock to jerk it off quickly, finally using your dominant hand for it. 
Jungkook drops his head against the mirror, finally arching his back and moaning the way he had wanted to do for ages. 
“You’re so cruel.”
“It’s what you get for using my stuff”, you throw back, twisting your hand around his tortured tip. 
“Sensitive please”, he begs, kicking his feet desperately. 
“You begged for it. So take it”, you order with no ounce of pity in your voice.
“Oh god”, he presses out, arching his back repeatedly while his shaky hands grip the marble.
His cum already became a deep white from the fast friction, sticking all over your hand and his cock. Residues of the shaving cream add even more slip to the punishing handjob. You know that he won’t hold out for long with the rhythm you have going on and that it’s gonna be the kind of orgasm which makes him cry just a little. 
And how right you were. Jungkook can only take five more pumps and then the overstimulation gets too much, forcing him to orgasm with such intensity that he shoots all over his own face and mirror. The sudden hot mess on his face startles him, making him cry because it was all too much. It still is. You don’t slow down even now that he is cumming. It burns and aches so much and Jungkook has no control over his body anymore. All he can do is sob and shake uncontrollably while you force his poor cock to soothe the burn by squirting all over himself. 
There is so much of it that it runs down on each side of him, spilling all over the counter and washing away the remnants of shaving cream. He sobs and he moans, he whines and he keens while you match his noises with evil laughter and mocking coos. 
Jungkook cries so much harder. You are so mean to him and he didn’t even do anything. You are so, so mean. 
His orgasm dies down as aggressively as it began. His once pleasured writhing becomes agonised, he tries to tug your hand away, sobbing begs to warm your heart.
“Please, I’m sorry. I won’t take your stuff again. I’m sorry, please!” 
“Promise me?”
“Promise! Please I’m sorry, I promise!”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Promise!” Jungkook screams so loudly his voice bounces off the walls, “holy fuck, I’m sorry!”
“That sounded better”, you say, finally releasing his ruined cock. You tortured him so good that you made him go soft as a defence mechanism. He is so fucking lovely to play with.
Jungkook drops against the mirror instantly, wheezing for air and spilling tears as he scrunches his face. 
You rub his trembling thighs, guiding your touches up his torso slowly until you can pull him into a hug. Jungkook hides away in the crook of your neck, holding you with his arms both weak yet terribly strong as they try to clutch you for soothing. You rub his back and scratch his scalp.
“You did so well, sweetie”, you praise him, “I’m so proud of you.”
“Hmmh”, he lets out, nuzzling his face into your shoulder from left to right. 
“You were also not slick with pretending everything was okay.”
He laughs, but it soon turns into little sobs. He lifts his head, looking at you with teary eyes.
“You ruined me, oh god look at me”, he says, laughing even if tears run down his face.
“Gosh baby, I’m here now”, you say, cradling his face.
“It was so nice”, he presses out, sniffling aggressively in order not to cry again. He ends up pouting with sparkly and happy eyes.
“It really was” you say, brushing his tears away, “I had a lot of fun.”
“Me too. It, it was so nice. I felt so happy to be with you and, and making you smile and then you made me so horny. Oh god”, he falls around your neck, “I feel like a giddy boy, you have no idea.”
You giggle with him, ruffling his hair. 
“I think I’m getting an idea.”
He giggles and squeezes you, following it up with a deep sigh. 
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Kookie.” You kiss his neck. “Do you want me to do the last stripe too?”
“Huh?”
“Your dick. You lost it like one more razor stripe before the end. I’d hate to leave you unfinished.” 
“Oh god.” He giggles, kicking his feet and nodding his head vigorously. “Yeah, you can finish it.”
“Nice. I promise I won’t rile you up again”, you joke, making him laugh to the point where he has to cough because he laughed way too hard. The joke definitely wasn’t that funny, but he is giddy, in love and totally mushy in his afterglow. You could breathe and he would think that it is the funniest thing you have ever said. 
You like when he is like this and after you finished the shave and you cleaned him (and the mirror), you take him to the couch for cuddles and kisses. He is just too adorable not to.
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reiderwriter · 1 year
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Elevator Pitch
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
WC: 2k!!
Warnings: Smut, fingering, semi-public sex/ foreplay, praise kink-ish, some pet names completely ignored Spencer's germophobia to make this work 18+ MINORS DNI
Summary: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive you're sharing the metal box of death with has an interesting idea about how you can pass the time.
A/N: This is just a really quick drabble for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute challenge for this month!! I have an idea for another one that I'll post closer to Halloween too, so look forward to that alongside all the kinktober fics 👀
Check out my masterlist here!
You weren't planning on running late on your very first day on your new team, but here you were. You were scheduled to meet Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner in his office at 9 a.m. sharp, and here you were at 8:57, trapped inside an elevator. At least you weren't alone, but alone with a stranger, and one who seemed to be talkative in the worst way wasn't exactly ideal either. 
"Hey, don't panic. There are about 6 elevator-related deaths per year and about 100,000 injuries. I'm pretty confident about those statistics." He said, taking a sip of his coffee as he stood calmly by the door, pressing buttons and waiting for something to happen. 
"Oh god, I'm gonna die in here." You whimpered a little bit, falling to your knees and screwing your eyes shut. 
"No, I said we're not gonna die. Or its at least very unlikely." 
"And I'm supposed to trust you?" 
"Yes, I'm very good with numbers. Elevator accidents account for 0.00024% of all elevators in service in the US. There you don't have to panic anymore." Almost punctuating his words, the elevator gave a low groan and fell an inch lower, pushing him off balance and toppling to the floor right next to you. 
"That was just unfortunate timing." He said, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes opened again finally, and you noticed that due to his topple, he was way closer than before, face merely inches from your own. Whoever this overconfident stranger was, he was attractive. Distractingly so, as you didn't respond to his sentence the entire time he was there in front of you, words suddenly escaping you as you stared into his dark, wide eyes. 
"Mechanical issues are the cause of about 15.3% of elevator incidents. Since we're in Quantico, we can probably rule out foul play, which means that they'll probably have us back up and running in around 27 minutes." Opening his mouth ruined the fantasy for a minute, waking you up to the reality of your situation. 
"Did you work an elevator case or something, why do you know so much about this?" You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, as he launched into another speech. 
"I read the statistical reports published by the CPSC and the OSHA. It’s really interesting stuff actually, there are-”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way but I need you to shut up. I don’t think I can take any more statistics about my inevitable death by elevator. Can we do something else instead?”
“Like what?” 
“I don’t know. Can you… Can you hold my hand?” You felt yourself flush red the second the words left your mouth, and suddenly it was your turn to talk too much. “My mom used to do it when I was scared as a kid, and obviously you’re not my mom, and you don’t even know me, but I thought it could help comfort both of us. Human contact and touch is supposedly comforting in times of distress so I just thought…” He cut you off by silently grabbing your hand and settling into a seated position beside you and you sent a little prayer up to god to spare both your soul and your heart. 
Because Jesus Christ it was beating hard now.
“Oxytocin,” he said and you looked up at him with a questioning look. “Oxytocin is released when you come into contact with other people, it’s the reason newborn babies benefit from skin-to-skin contact and why humans enjoy petting domestic animals so much. And the whole sex to destress thing.” He nodded and looked away, but you could have sworn the oxygen was completely sucked out of the room when he mentioned sex. 
“Sex?” He turned to you as you said the word, as if processing the conversation you were in the middle of it. 
“Yeah, never heard of it?” You rolled your eyes and squeezed his hand in your own for a second, but his body was leaning closer into yours now, his entire attention on you, as if he expected you to answer the question. 
“Of course I have.” 
“And what do you think? Can it help you de-stress?” 
Your mouth moves before you can stop it. “Can we stop talking about this please, I’m already scared, I don’t need to be scared and horny.” You close your eyes and groan as his widen again, and suddenly you’re praying again, but this time you wouldn’t really mind if you became one of those six elevator malfunction deaths. 
“I don’t know, maybe it would help you. There are some studies that show that stress can have aphrodisiacal impacts in women, you know?” His voice was light, but your entire body stiffened as you looked into his eyes, trying to gauge what this stranger was offering. 
“So what, you’re suggesting I just get more and more turned on until I’m not worried about death?” 
“No, I’m suggesting I close the gap between us and distract you for a while.” You spared a glance down to his lips then, his tongue darting out to lick them and pulling you in closer. You nodded quickly, a small movement and he pushed his lips down into yours. 
He was soft at first, and you almost felt like pulling away and scalding yourself for engaging in risky behavior during a near-death experience. But just as you moved to pull away, his hand came up to your hair and you melted right back into him, the kiss deepening as you slanted your neck up to give up more of yourself to him. 
You barely feel his hands pulling you into his lap, but you’re suddenly there and so happy you are. Your free hand wanders up to his chest as he squeezes your connected digits again, sending your heart into a fit of palpitations. In a panic you pull away, groaning a little as you can feel his not stiff member poking between your legs. 
“Sorry, I don’t think we exchanged names. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N..” 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His lips fall down to your neck as he whispers the words into your skin, and you let your head fall back as his hands untangle from you and fall to your hips, encouraging your movements as you begin grinding over him.
“And you said we had twenty-seven minutes before we’re free, right?” 
“Whose the one talking too much now?” He bit into your neck sharply then, and you moaned out, battling the urge to let him take you there on the elevator floor. From it’s perch on your hip, his hand slips down and pops the button in your pants, pushing inside and finally touching you through your panties.
“That’s it, good girl, just keep grinding down on me.” Unconsciously, you press your hips into his hands, the pressure leaving you letting out a whistful sigh of relief. 
“God,… Should we be doing this here?” Your words were unsure, but your movements weren’t as you pushed yourself into him again and again, desperate to feel more of him as he rubbed circles into your clit, driving you closer and closer to your peak. 
“Let’s assume for now that the elevator malfunction has wiped out the CCTV,” he says, lips pressing against your skin as you lose yourself in his touch again. “We absolutely should be doing this.” 
His words fell straight to your core, and you felt yourself grow more aroused as you pondered being caught in such an intimate position with a stranger.
“You think you can cum right here, baby? Think you can give me one soon?” His words almost sent you over the edge, his smile widening as your hips twitched over his. 
“Fuck, yes, yes, please, don’t stop.” 
“Not so scared about this elevator anymore are you? Or did you want to spend your last moments coming undone in my hands?” With his words, you lost the ability to speak, simply moaning out your agreement to his every word. 
“I think I can hear someone talking through the walls, baby, you’re going to have to cum now for me, can you do that?” You nodded to him as he increased his pace on your words, and within seconds, you were letting it all out, head falling against his shoulder as you twitched through your orgasm. He pulled his hands out of your pants quickly and pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to a standing position and making you look presentable as the doors to the elevator were finally pried open from the other side. 
“Hey, how are you guys holding up in there?” The call came from the maintenance staff, and you were sudden;y thankful that he’d finished you off when he did because as horny as you’d been, actually getting caught like that was something entirely different than the fantasy of it. 
You’re almost sorry that you have to leave when you do, suddenly absolutely involved in helping him “destress” the same way he’d helped you out. But he removes his hands from you and strikes up a conversation with the maintenance staff working to get your elevator level with the floor doors. You gravitate to the back of the stall, gripping the railing while your brain catches up to the circumstances. 
In no time, the elevator is back in working order, and you and your stranger are stepping foot on steady ground again, and saying your goodbyes.  
“Aaron Hotchner’s office is through those doors. Up the stairs to the left.” He smiles and nods at you before turning down the corridor and leaving you there by yourself. A glance at your clock tells you you’re too late to question his words, and how he even knew where you were going. You take off down the hall, ready to profusely apologize to your new boss and pledge to take the stairs for the rest of your days. 
When Hotch finally greets you, he has already heard about the elevator malfunction, and all is thankfully forgiven. You have to bite your tongue before asking if everyone on this floor is psychic. But you’re still late, and you have a case, so your introductions have to take place in the briefing room and you half-run, half-walk behind the older man as he makes his way down the hall. 
“Everyone we have a new team member today, please help her out for this first one and show her the ropes.” He introduces you by name, and you’re suddenly doing your best to memorize the names of a Prentiss, a Rossi, a Morgan, a JJ, and one Penelope Garcia. They seem to be waiting for someone else, but with the clock ticking, Penelope begins debriefing you on the next case.  
“Sorry I’m late,” a voice calls from the door, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand up in shock as everyone slowly turns to greet the newcomer. 
“What time do you call this?” Morgan laughs as the familiar man approaches, and a quick glance around tells you that the only seat left at the table, which had been so obviously reserved by the pile of paper files in contrast to everyone else's digital alternatives, was right next to you. 
“Spencer, we have a new team member, this is Y/N. She’ll be joining us on cases from today onwards.” Hotch quickly says, and you lock eyes with the man just as he falls into his seat. 
“I think we’re acquainted. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Spencer Reid.” The room falls silent as he holds out his hand for you to shake, and you do your best to not show your shock and embarrassment on your face. You let your hand fall into his, the same one that you’d held earlier, the same one that had worked you up to the edge and then helped you pour over it, the same one that had pulled you together afterward. You said nothing after you’d finally pulled apart, waiting for him to make the next move once again. 
“I look forward to working with you.” 
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unreliablesnake · 2 years
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The bet (Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader)
Summary: Soap dares you to lick Ghost’s tattoos. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.
Part 2
Warnings: none, I think.
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“I fuckin’ dare you,” was all Soap had to say.
It was a stupid bet that you oh-so-badly wanted to win. All you needed was finding Ghost, preferably alone, then simply get him to let you lick his tattooed forearm. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t weird either. Right?
After looking everywhere with Soap on your side, you finally found the lieutenant in a meeting room where he was getting ready for the upcoming briefing. The room had a window, so your idiot friend could see everything while you were inside. You took a deep breath to prepare for the conversation. Should you say anything at all? Or should you just run in, lick him, then leave?
“Come in if you want something, or go away and leave me alone if you don’t,” you suddenly heard his deep voice.
He was tense, it was quite obvious. Not the best start. “Sir,” you began hesitantly as you stepped inside. He looked over at you, his eyes seeming tired behind the mask. “Do you have a minute?”
“What can I do for you, Sergeant?”
As you bit on your lower lip, you took a step closer and folded your arms behind your back. “I was just thinking about getting a tattoo, and since I know you have quite a few… Well, I have some questions,” you added with an awkward smile.
Ghost looked at you with a frown. “And you’re thinking about that now?” You nodded, your eyes slowly moving to his left arm. When he nodded, he subconsciously pulled up his sleeves and folded his arms over his chest. “What do you want to know?” he asked.
His tattooed skin was exposed, this was your chance. “Does it hurt?”
“Being shot or stabbed is worse.”
“How do you choose what to tattoo on yourself? It’s a serious choice, after all it’s permanent,” you said as you walked closer to him.
Instead of answering, he just watched you silently for a while. You gulped loudly as you held his gaze, unsure of what to do. But then he let out a sigh and asked, “Why are you really here?”
There was something about his tone that you didn’t like. It was dark as usual, yet it was equally curious, as if he was truly interested in what you had to say. You were on thin ice now, you knew that. One wrong word and he would be yelling at you.
You had come in here without a plan, so now it was time to improvise. You closed the gap between the two of you, and you could hear him take in a sharp breath when you stopped so close to him. When he began to ask you what you wanted to do, you leaned down and slowly let your tongue run along his tattooed forearm.
The taste of his salty skin sent your mind into overdrive. Why did you feel so hot all of a sudden? Before you could understand what was happening, you felt him put a finger under your chin and guide you until you straightened up and looked him in the eye. His chest was heaving rapidly, and this gave away that he felt the exact same way you did.
But what could that be? Confusion? Arousal? Both?
“You’re playing a dangerous game here, Sergeant,” he warned you quietly.
You licked your lower lip as you watched him. He was right, it was so stupid. Yet… Damn it, why did you want to do it again? You wanted to run your tongue across his chest, feeling all the scars and muscles, and you wanted to kiss him, just one quick kiss would have been enough to calm your raging mind.
It was his touch that knocked you out of your thoughts, as calloused fingers ran down your cheeks. “You’re such a fucking tease, love,” he noted hoarsely. “You shouldn’t do things like this.”
You obediently nodded at this. He was right, you shouldn’t do this. Fuck. “I should go,” you said so quietly that you began to wonder if he even heard you speak. “Thanks for… the answers.”
Ghost suddenly grabbed your chin and made you look him in the eye. “The next time you do something like this, do it because you want to, not because of some stupid bet,” he told you.
Shit. How did he find out?
“I noticed Soap in the window,” he answered your unasked question before pointing at the said part of the room.
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brunchable · 19 days
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𝐌𝐫. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞: Stucky x F!Reader
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Part Two Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader | Daughter of Thaddeus Ross (Red Hulk) Words: 5.4K Themes: Forbidden Reader, Love Triangle, M for Mature, 18+ , Post-Endgame, AGE GAP (24y/o reader). Summary: Bucky Barnes expected another typical therapy session, but the moment he meets Y/N, a sharp and unflinching therapist who doesn’t back down, everything changes. Used to keeping people at arm’s length, Bucky finds himself intrigued by her resilience and the way she sees right through his walls. A/N: I am also obsessed with Bucky ok? I can't leave him out. I will not use "chapter" for now because IDEK how long this will be. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Ciao.
Bucky entered the therapist’s office, expecting the usual routine with Dr. Raynor. But when he saw a younger woman sitting on the couch, legs crossed, glasses perched on her nose, he froze. She was scribbling in a notebook, completely absorbed in whatever she was writing. His eyes swept over her—pencil skirt, white blouse with the top two buttons undone. Definitely not Raynor.
Raynor was a pain in the ass enough, but now they're throwing this at me? Bucky thought, his jaw tightening as he watched her quietly scribble in her notebook. He wasn’t sure if this was some kind of test or another attempt to “catch him off guard.” His whole life had been one test after another, and this—this felt like just another trick up their sleeve.
Great, he thought bitterly, as if I haven’t been poked and prodded enough. Now I’m supposed to open up to someone who probably just finished med school.
The calm way she sat there, so sure of herself, made him itch with irritation. He couldn’t figure her out, and he hated that. Was she here to push him harder than Raynor? Or was this just another bureaucratic move to switch things up, like changing therapists would suddenly crack him open? 
What’s next? A therapy dog? His mind was racing, constantly searching for the next hit, the next blow. He felt like they were always trying to break him down bit by bit, like he was still their weapon. 
But this? This is just insulting. He didn’t know what to make of her, or what she could possibly do for him, but his instincts were already screaming to keep his guard up, to watch her carefully. There was always something more to these situations. Always a catch.
"Did they lose my file or something?" Bucky raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You don’t look old enough to be out of med school, let alone help me with… this." His words came out dripping with sarcasm, testing her right from the start.
Y/N didn’t look up immediately, taking her time as she finished writing something in her notebook. When she finally met his gaze, she adjusted her glasses slightly, then pointed to the couch with her eyes.
"I assure you, Sergeant Barnes, you’re in the right place," she said, her voice calm and even. "If you’d like to sit down, we can get started."
Bucky paused, the smirk still playing on his lips. He scanned the room, as if making sure he hadn’t walked into the wrong office, then sauntered toward the couch opposite her. He dropped down, stretching out his legs lazily, crossing his arms over his chest, still eyeing her with playful suspicion.
"Right place, huh? Are you sure about that?" He chuckled. "Didn’t realize they sent kids to do the hard jobs these days."
"Lucky for you, I’m not a kid. But if you’re hoping for someone older, I’m sure you can take it up with the front desk. Or we could just get started, your call."
Bucky’s smirk widened slightly, impressed by the way she shot back at him. He leaned back on the couch, arms crossed. "Alright then, since you’re apparently the expert. What’s the plan here? Gonna wave a magic wand, make all my problems go away?"
Y/N raised an eyebrow, meeting his sarcasm head-on. "No magic wand. Just work. But something tells me you’re not afraid of a little hard work, are you?"
That caught him off guard. He was used to deflecting with humor, but she wasn’t backing down. In fact, she seemed perfectly comfortable in this verbal sparring match.
"Hard work, huh?" He leaned forward slightly, his tone softening but still sarcastic. "And here I thought you were here to hand me a quick fix."
Y/N smiled ever so slightly, just enough to show she wasn’t intimidated. "I don’t do quick fixes. That’s for amateurs."
Bucky stared at her for a moment, genuinely impressed despite himself. He had expected someone more nervous, someone he could easily rattle. But this woman? She wasn’t having any of it.
"Alright, doc," he said, nodding slightly, acknowledging her stance. "You’ve got my attention. What’s next?"
Y/N adjusted her glasses, flipping a page in her notebook. "Next? We talk about your progress. Or, we can sit here in silence while you continue throwing sarcastic remarks at me. I’m good with either option."
"You think I’m just gonna spill my guts? It doesn’t work like that."
"I didn’t expect it to.”
"I’m fine with silence.”
Bucky muttered, his eyes flicking to the window as if contemplating an escape. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about himself. Especially not with someone like her—someone so young and… focused.
Leaning forward slightly, his playful look faded into something darker—a cold, calculating stare. His blue eyes locked onto hers, hard and unblinking, as he gave her the same menacing look that had unnerved countless soldiers and enemies. It was the stare that said he wasn’t someone to mess with.
Most people would have flinched by now, maybe glanced away or shown some kind of discomfort. But Y/N didn’t move. She didn’t flinch. She met his icy stare head-on, calm and unwavering.
Seconds ticked by then into minutes. Bucky’s gaze bore into hers, daring her to crack under the pressure. But she didn’t blink. Didn’t shift in her seat. She held his stare, unshaken.
As Bucky realized she wasn’t going to back down. He clenched his jaw tighter, leaning in even more, his menacing stare intensifying. And still—nothing. Y/N just stared back at him. After what felt like an eternity, Bucky scoffed, the sound low and begrudgingly amused. He leaned back into the couch, letting out a breath.
"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered, clearly impressed. His smirk returned, but this time, it was less mocking and more intrigued. "You didn’t even blink."
"I’ve seen worse," she shrugged.
"Most people can’t handle the stare," he said, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice. Bucky stared at her for a moment longer, still processing that she hadn’t buckled under his intimidation. 
"I’m not most people," Y/N replied, her gaze still locked on his.
"You’re not, huh?” Bucky let out another short scoff, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. 
For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them gradually easing. Bucky leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if contemplating his next move.
"Alright," he finally muttered, his voice quieter now, the edge of defiance softening. "Let’s get started."
× × × ×
Bucky walked down the street, hands deep in his pockets, his mind still stuck on the therapy session with Y/N. He couldn't shake the image of her holding her ground against his menacing stare. Most people crumbled under that.
He was impressed. Hell, maybe even a little thrown off by it.
He reached a small café, the door chimed as he walked in. He’d been coming here for weeks, liking how quiet it was. Bucky slid into a booth in the corner, the furthest one from the entrance, his usual spot. The place was small, quiet—barely anyone noticed him here. That was what he liked. No eyes following him. No whispers.
As he sat down, he glanced at the menu out of habit, though he already knew what he wanted. He tapped his fingers against the table, feeling the hum of anxiety still coursing through him. His thoughts wandered back to Y/N’s. Her refusal to let him dictate the session. It had been a long time since someone had stood their ground with him.
“Same as usual?” the waitress asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. Same.”
The door chimed again, and out of reflex, Bucky glanced up. His eyes landed on her—Y/N. But she was different now. She was dressed in a casual sweater and jeans, her hair down, and the serious, composed demeanor was nowhere to be found. She looked relaxed. For a moment, Bucky frowned. Was this the same woman from earlier?
She hadn’t noticed him yet, busy ordering her coffee at the counter. As she turned, their eyes met, and for a split second, surprise flickered in her gaze. Then she smiled. 
It wasn’t a polite, professional smile like the one she had in the office—it was real, warm. Bucky had to admit, she was even more beautiful when she smiled like that. She made her way over to him, her expression soft and light, a stark contrast to how she’d been before.
“Sergeant Barnes,” she greeted with an amused smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Didn’t expect to see you either. You got a twin or something?” Bucky leaned back, trying to hide the fact that her smile had thrown him. He gave her a skeptical look, still trying to wrap his mind around the shift in her demeanor.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Nope. Just me.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You sure? Because you’re not exactly giving off the same ‘don’t mess with me’ vibe as you did earlier.”
“I save that for the office.” She laughed lightly, the sound catching him off guard again.
Bucky blinked, still half-convinced she had to be a different person. “You’re… different outside of work.”
Y/N smiled again, and Bucky couldn’t help but notice how that smile completely transformed her. The serious, no-nonsense therapist was gone. 
“Therapist mode can be intense,” she said, settling into the seat across from him. “Gotta decompress too, you know.”
“Decompress, huh?” Bucky muttered, still eyeing her. “I wasn’t sure you even knew how to.”
“Oh, trust me, I do,” she said with a grin. “You think I’m a robot in the office?”
“Was starting to wonder. . .”
She laughed again, shaking her head as she took a sip of her coffee. “Nope. Just human.”
Bucky stared at her for a moment, taking in how much more approachable she seemed now. The difference between the Y/N sitting across from him now and the one who had held her ground in the office was stark. He hadn’t expected to see her like this—relaxed, smiling, laughing. It was almost disarming.
“You’re hard to figure out,” he said, still trying to process the shift.
She shrugged lightly. “That’s part of the job, isn’t it?”
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the café filling the space. Bucky glanced at her again, her soft smile lingering in his mind. He wasn’t sure why, but seeing her like this, outside of the serious office atmosphere, made him feel… at ease.
Eventually, Y/N glanced at her watch. “I should get going. Got other plans.”
Bucky nodded. “Yeah, same.”
She stood, grabbing her cup. She paused for a moment, then gave him one last smile—a sweet one, the kind that lit up her whole face, making her seem even more different than the woman who had stared him down earlier.
“See you at the next session?” she asked.
Bucky chuckled, half-joking, "Hm, I don’t know."
Her smile didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened, her eyes holding him with a quiet confidence. "I will see you, Sergeant Barnes," she said, her voice more insistent this time, not leaving room for doubt.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, shaking his head slightly, "What’s the point of asking then?”
As she walked out of the café, Bucky leaned back in his seat, shaking his head with a small smile. She had completely thrown him. Her smile, her relaxed demeanor—it was all so different from what he’d expected. For a moment, he wondered if she really did have a twin. But then again, maybe she was just someone with more layers than he’d first realized.
And he found himself eager to know more.
× × × ×
Steve Rogers wasn’t sure how he had gotten talked into this. Well, actually, he knew exactly how—Sam Wilson had dragged him along to this party, claiming Steve needed to “loosen up” and enjoy life more. But standing in the middle of a loud, flashing room with music pounding in his ears, Steve wondered if he should have pushed harder to stay home.
"Come on, Cap," Sam had said with a mischievous grin as they walked through the entrance earlier. "You’ve been in retirement long enough. Time to see what the world’s been up to while you were busy saving it."
Steve stood near the bar now, trying to blend in, his eyes scanning the room. People were dancing wildly, laughing, and having fun in the swirling haze of strobe lights. It was a far cry from the kinds of parties he had attended back in the 1940s—those had been calm, slow, and filled with small talk and jazz music. 
This? This was chaos.
Steve shifted uncomfortably. He had barely touched his drink when Sam elbowed him from the side, laughing. “You look like you’re plotting an escape route. Relax, Cap. Have fun.”
Before Steve could respond, Sam was swept into the crowd by some friends, leaving Steve standing alone by the bar. Even in the anonymity of the darkened room, Steve still attracted attention. His broad shoulders, strong jawline, and quietly confident presence drew glances from several women who were passing by. The strobe lights occasionally highlighted his features, and more than a few curious eyes lingered on him as he stood by the bar.
“Hey there,” she said, leaning in slightly, her voice loud to be heard over the music. “You look like you’re way too good-looking to be standing here alone.”
Steve smiled politely, keeping his distance. “Just here with some friends,” he said, not giving much away.
She stepped a little closer, her eyes lingering on him. “Well, maybe I could keep you company?”
Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Thanks, but I’m good. Just enjoying the night.”
She looked a little surprised but shrugged it off with a casual smile. “Your loss,” she said with a wink, before disappearing back into the crowd.
Steve let out a small breath, his shoulders relaxing as she left. He wasn’t here for that kind of attention, though it seemed inevitable. He glanced around, hoping to spot Sam or Bucky, but before he could move, another woman approached.
He was just about to step away from the bar when another woman, a petite brunette with a mischievous smile, appeared beside him. 
“I’ve seen you reject at least ten girls in the last ten minutes,” she said, her voice teasing. “Either you’ve got impossibly high standards or you’re just too shy to admit you’re having fun.”
Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Neither, really. Just here with some friends. Trying to keep a low profile.”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “A guy like you, keeping a low profile? Good luck with that.”
Steve smiled, nodding toward the crowd. “Seems like it’s working so far.”
The woman laughed, but before she could say more, the crowd surged again, and someone bumped into Steve, almost spilling his drink. 
“Sorry about that,” a voice said, half-shouting over the music.
Steve turned and caught a glimpse of another woman, this one different from the others. She was barely recognizable in the strobe lights, her features blurred by the darkness, but something about the way she carried herself caught his attention. She didn’t linger too long on him, and didn't try too hard. Her smile was brief but real.
“No problem,” Steve replied, raising his voice to be heard over the music. 
“Not your scene?” she asked, leaning a little closer to be heard.
“Not exactly,” Steve admitted, putting a finger in to cover one ear.
She laughed lightly, stepping closer, her eyes catching the light for a brief second. “Same. My friend dragged me here. I’m pretty sure she thinks I need to ‘loosen up’.”
“Guess we’re in the same boat,” Steve said, feeling a bit more at ease. She had a warmth in her voice, even amidst the chaos.
Before either of them could say more, a group of partygoers surged by, and one of them grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her toward the dance floor. She was caught off guard, stumbling a bit before turning back toward Steve, her hand still caught in the wave.
“Come on!” she shouted over the music, her face lit up with a playful grin.
“No—I don’t think—”
Steve hesitated. He wasn’t much of a dancer—especially not in a place like this—but before he could protest, Y/N grabbed his hand, tugging him into the crowd. The pulsing rhythm of the music pounded in his chest as they were swept into the moving mass of people. The lights flashed wildly, and before Steve knew it, he was dancing, caught up in the infectious energy of the room.
Y/N laughed as they moved, her hand still in his, and Steve found himself smiling despite the overwhelming atmosphere. The strobe lights flickered, casting everything in flashes of light and shadow, and for a moment, it was easy to forget who he was, to forget the weight he usually carried.
Steve didn’t have time to react before he found himself right behind her, the sea of people pushing them closer together. The music pounded through the room, the heavy bass vibrating under their feet. Steve felt her back press against his chest, her body swaying in time with the beat.
The lights flashed, casting her in and out of shadow, but Steve was caught in the moment. She moved to the music effortlessly, her hips swinging in rhythm, her back brushing against him with every movement. He felt the warmth of her body through his shirt, the closeness sparking something inside him he hadn’t expected.
The lyrics of the song echoed through the room: “I, I, I, I just want to watch you when you take it off, take off all your makeup, baby, take it off. . . I just wanna watch you when you take it off, take off all your clothes and watch you take them off.”
Y/N's body moved in perfect sync with the music, and Steve, despite his hesitation, found himself falling into the rhythm. Her hips pressed against him, swaying seductively in time with the beat. He hesitated for a moment before resting his hands lightly on her hips, unsure but drawn in by the intensity of the moment.
The crowd pushed them even closer together, and Steve’s grip on her hips tightened instinctively. She didn’t pull away; instead, she leaned into him, moving her body against his, teasing, playful, completely in tune with the energy of the music. Her head tilted slightly, her hair brushing against his neck, and Steve felt his pulse quicken.
She bit her lower lip, glancing back at him through the lights, a playful spark in her eyes. Steve’s breath caught, his hands sliding up slightly from her waist as their bodies continued to move together. The energy between them was electric, like nothing he’d ever felt before. The music drowned out everything but the pounding of his heart and the feel of her body so close to his.
Suddenly, the crowd pushed them even closer, and in the heat of the moment, Y/N turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek. It was a brief touch, but it sent a shock through him. His grip tightened on her hips, and before either of them could think, their movements slowed, the tension between them peaking.
“I just can't wait to see it all I'm so turned on”
Y/N turned her head fully, her lips finding his in a fast, unexpected kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft. They parted-in surprise, she thought and then she slipped her tongue inside. It had been forever since she'd done this, never had she done this, but it came to her like breathing. It was electric, quick, but charged with the energy of the moment. 
Steve’s world narrowed to just the two of them—the music, the lights, the crowd—all vanished as her lips met his. He stopped her, just for a moment, then flipped it, deepening the kiss with a flick of his tongue and a firm grip on her hip. Now it was him kissing her, her soft sigh filling the space between them. He responded with heat, his desire matching the unexpected pleasure he found in her.
The kiss only lasted a moment, but it left both of them breathless. Y/N pulled back, her eyes wide with surprise, like she hadn’t expected it either. They were still close, her breath mingling with his as they caught their bearings.
Before either of them could speak, Y/N's friends found her and pulled her with them unaware of Steve, and she was swept away, disappearing into the throng of dancers. Steve stood there, frozen for a second, his heart still racing from the kiss, his hands still tingling from where he’d touched her.
He blinked, trying to steady himself, but she was already gone, lost in the mass of people. The music still pounded around him, the lights still flashed, but all Steve could focus on was the ghost of her lips on his and the wild, unexpected energy of the night.
Steve shook his head, still trying to process what had just happened. The kiss, the way her body had fit so perfectly against his—it was all too new, too different. The way young people dance these days, he thought, he can’t believe he allowed himself to be dragged like that. It was nothing like what he was used to. He exhaled slowly, needing a moment to collect his thoughts. Pushing through the crowd, he scanned the room for Sam. He was going to get an earful for this.
Steve spotted Sam by the bar, laughing with a couple of friends, and beside him was Bucky, nursing a drink and quietly observing the room. Steve made his way over, still feeling the lingering heat of the moment and trying his best to shake it off.
Sam noticed him approaching and immediately grinned, raising his drink in greeting. “There he is! Our man of the hour!” Sam shouted over the music, his voice laced with amusement.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, his expression more reserved but no less curious.
“I don’t know about that,” Steve rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the slight flush still creeping up his neck. 
Sam’s grin widened as he leaned in closer. “Come on, Cap, you’ve got that look on your face. What happened?”
Steve hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to tell them. But Sam already knew him too well, and Bucky… well, there was no escaping his sharp gaze either.
“Nothing,” Steve said with a shrug, hoping to play it off.
“Uh-huh,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes. 
“Nothing, huh?” He took a sip of his drink, but the teasing gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. “Didn’t look like ‘nothing’ when I saw you on the dance floor with… what’s her name?”
Steve’s eyes widened slightly, “You saw that?”
Sam burst out laughing, slapping Steve on the shoulder. “Oh, I saw it. The whole room probably saw it! You were practically glued to her!”
Steve groaned, rubbing his forehead. “It wasn’t like that.”
Sam raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “Oh, really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were having a little too much fun.”
Steve shot him a glare, but the way Sam wiggled his eyebrows made it impossible to stay serious. 
Bucky, still quiet, finally smirked. “You’re not exactly blending into the background there, punk.”
“It just… happened, alright?” Steve admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to explain. “We were dancing, and the crowd kept pushing us together. And then…”
“And then you kissed her!” Sam finished for him, laughing again. “Oh man, Cap, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“I didn’t kiss her! She kissed me! It just happened—like in the heat of the moment.”
“Yeah, because ‘heat of the moment’ sounds nothing like you.” Bucky chuckled, finally downing his alcohol.
Steve shot him a look, “Who's side are you on?”
“The ‘heat of the moment’? You mean to tell me you got caught up in the lights and music and had your little dance-floor moment? That’s priceless!” Sam was practically doubled over with laughter now.
“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t even know her.” Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile despite the teasing. 
Sam straightened up, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Doesn’t matter, man. That’s what makes it even better! You don’t know her, and you still ended up in some steamy dance-floor kiss? That’s wild for you.”
Steve groaned again, but the smile tugging at his lips was undeniable.
“Well, I’ll say this,” Sam said, leaning in closer with a sly grin. “You’re full of surprises, Cap. I thought you’d be sitting in a corner all night, but instead, you’re out here stealing kisses in the middle of a crowd.”
“Okay, fine. It was… unexpected. But I wasn’t exactly complaining.”
Sam raised both eyebrows in mock surprise. “Unexpected, huh? Is that what we’re calling it when you’re practically glued to someone in the middle of a party? I mean, the way you two were moving—if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were auditioning for a music video.”
Steve sighed, but a part of him couldn’t help but feel amused at the whole situation. He never expected to get caught up in something like that. 
“I didn’t even get her name,” he said, almost to himself.
Bucky tilted his head. “Classic.”
Sam’s grin softened into a knowing smile. “Well, maybe that’s the universe telling you it’s time to loosen up a little. Enjoy the ride.”
Steve smirked, shaking his head. “Maybe.”
Sam clapped him on the back again. “Look, Cap, you’ve spent your whole life saving the world. You deserve to have moments like that. Maybe even more than most people.”
Steve couldn’t argue with that. The memory of her lips on his, the way their bodies had moved together—it wasn’t something he was likely to forget anytime soon.
Sam raised his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to Captain America, finally letting loose.”
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” Steve chuckled and clinked his glass against Sam and Bucky's.
“You’re doing just fine, Cap,” Sam said with a wink. “Just fine.”
+ + + +
Y/N’s heels clicked against the smooth marble floors of the mansion’s foyer as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The security system beeped, and she casually entered the code, the familiar beep fading into silence. The house was large, quiet, and pristine—almost too quiet after the chaos of the party.
She kicked off her heels, phone pressed to her ear as she continued her animated conversation with her best friend.
“I’m telling you, it was insane,” Y/N laughed, still buzzing from the energy of the night. “I don’t even know how I ended up on the dance floor, but there I was, dancing like I had no care in the world. And, oh my god, there was this guy...”
She paused, biting her lip at the memory of the mysterious man she’d danced with. The lights had made it impossible to see him clearly, but the way he moved, how his hands had felt on her hips—it sent a thrill through her just thinking about it.
“I didn’t catch his name,” she continued, flopping onto the plush couch in the living room. “But we were so close, and when we kissed... girl, I don’t even know what came over me.”
Her friend gasped on the other end of the line, clearly invested in every word. “Wait, you kissed him? Who are you right now?”
“I don’t know!” Y/N laughed again—almost squealing, “It was one of those wild party moments, you know? The music was loud, people were everywhere, and then—boom—his lips were on mine.”
“Omg, didn’t you get his number?”
“No.” She frowned then she smiled to herself, enjoying the carefree thrill of the memory. “Honestly, I thought I’d regret it, but no. Imagine that? My dad would kill me.”
As she continued recounting the night, a slight rustling from the other side of the room made her pause. Y/N looked up, her heart skipping a beat as she realized she wasn’t alone. In the doorway stood Thaddeus Ross, her father, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.
He cleared his throat loudly, the sound cutting through the excited chatter still flowing from her phone. Y/N froze for a moment, her eyes widening as she realized she’d been caught mid-party recap in her usually reserved father’s presence.
Her friend’s voice buzzed in her ear, still going on about the party, but Y/N quickly pulled the phone away, muttering, “I’ll call you back,” before hanging up. The excitement drained from her face, replaced by a nervous smile.
“Dad,” Y/N greeted, forcing a casual smile. “Didn’t know you’d be home.”
“Apparently, you didn’t. Sounded like quite the party.” Thaddeus Ross narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping further into the room.
Y/N stood, suddenly aware of how much she’d let herself unwind. She straightened her clothes and tried to appear nonchalant. “It was just a party with some friends. No big deal.”
Thaddeus arched an eyebrow. “Friends?”
“Yeah, friends. You know, just... normal people.” Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay the whole thing.
Thaddeus studied her for a moment, his eyes sharp, as if trying to piece together the details she hadn’t given him. 
“I see,” he finally said, his tone unreadable. “It sounded a bit more... involved than your usual nights out.”
Y/N swallowed, brushing off the heat rising in her cheeks. “It was just for fun, Dad. Nothing to worry about.”
He didn’t respond immediately, just gave her a long, assessing look. 
“You know how important it is to keep certain parts of your life secure, Y/N,” he said in that familiar, commanding tone of his. “People might take advantage if they know too much about who you really are.”
Y/N gave him a playful smile, trying to brush off his seriousness. “Dad, I’m 24. I should be out there kissing strangers at parties by now, right?”
Thaddeus didn’t smile. He simply sighed, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. 
“I wasn’t wearing a neon sign that said ‘Mr. President’s Daughter’ on it. It was just a party. I’m allowed to have fun.” Y/N rolled her eyes, her tone still light but more pointed now.
Thaddeus didn’t seem to be swayed by her attempt to joke. “Having fun is one thing, but keeping yourself safe is another. You may think these parties are harmless, but they aren’t always what they seem.”
“Dad, relax. I know how to keep myself out of trouble. I mean, come on, I live here, don’t I? No one’s getting past your fortress.” Y/N sighed, but her smile remained. 
Thaddeus gave her a long, measured look, as if deciding how much more to say. Finally, he relented just slightly, his voice softening. “It’s not just about the security, Y/N. It’s about the people you surround yourself with.”
Y/N softened her tone too, standing up to face him. “I get it, Dad. I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m not going to live in fear. I can take care of myself.”
Thaddeus didn’t reply right away, his eyes flicking to the security system panel before returning to her. “Just... be careful. Not everyone you meet at those parties will have good intentions.”
“I know, Dad. I promise I’ll be careful.” Y/N nodded, her earlier playfulness giving way to a more serious understanding. 
Thaddeus gave a short nod, clearly not fully convinced but unwilling to push the conversation any further tonight. “Good. Just remember what I said.”
He turned and left the room, leaving Y/N standing there with the lingering weight of his words. As the tension dissolved, she let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I’m 24,” she muttered to herself, smiling at the absurdity of the situation.
“I heard that!” Thaddeus yelled from another area of the house.
“You were supposed to!” 
Despite everything, the memory of the night—the music, the dancing, the kiss—still played in her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile.
Next Chapter
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muddyorbsblr · 7 months
Text
gestures & rain checks
See my full list of works here!
pre-story author's note: Yes I am very aware that it's been a solid month since Valentine's Day. Yes I am still posting this 🫡
Summary: It feels like your friends are getting plucked away from you one by one as their respective (or in Nat's case prospective) partners make grand gestures to ask them to be their Valentine.
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warning/s: language (nope still not sorry, Rogers); mentions of alcohol; tooth-rotting fluff; gun use [let me know if I missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: Morgan being a precious beb; himbo!Thor hours; lowkey sad Reader hours; chaotic group chat vibes in the end
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You always had a distaste for this day. Valentine's Day. To you, it was the one day a year that you would do everything in your power not to step outside because it reeked of flowers and chocolate marked up to the heavens for merchants to take advantage of last minute gift shoppers hoping to make a gesture big enough that their crush would let them score at the end of the night. Or guys buying extravagant and ridiculously large arrangements to make amends for wronging their partner as if a 10-foot tall teddy bear was gonna magically press some Undo button of him going on Hinge or Tinder and talking up a dozen other girls on the side.
There was one year that you let slip around Nat and Wanda that this day "smelled like a cemetery" with all the bouquets that bombarded you the second you exited the perimeter of the Compound. Hell, the second you left the main section that housed you and the rest of the Avengers. And you stood by that opinion stubbornly, mostly because you'd only ever witnessed flowers being given when someone was desperately trying to glue back together the pieces of a severely damaged relationship.
And also because no one had ever given you flowers in your entire life. Or chocolates. Or a teddy bear. All your past relationships were with men who were still mentally and emotionally boys that believed emojis and gifs sufficed and were as good as the real thing. Nary a single soul had ever actually spent a lick of time or effort to give you something that told you they deserved your time and effort in turn.
And after so many years of being barely an afterthought, the day just felt like this entity that you resented to an irrational degree, where all you wanted was to lay in bed and wait it out until the clock struck 12 and it was February 15th. Then you could go on a hunt for all the overpriced chocolate that suddenly got their prices slashed by 50% or more.
That was the plan again for this year, had it not been for both Nat and Wanda barging in to your apartment and practically dressing you up like you were their own life-sized definitely seen some better days Barbie doll. "Come on, we can go and have a Galentine's Day 2. Maybe hit up a club and get some free drinks…" the assassin trailed off, zipping up your dress and playfully swatting your ass to nudge you forward. "March on, soldier."
The common area was nearly bare and eerily quiet when you all got there, which made perfect sense considering that most of your teammates who were happily committed to someone were off spending their day together, probably executing their own personal twists on those cliched gestures of adoration. Knowing Tony, that would probably consist of a two-storey tall stuffed bunny or a lavish new vacation house as a nice private little getaway spot for him and Pepper when they wanted to have a date night.
Only Morgan and Shaun were at the big dining table by the kitchen, the little girl working on bracelets with the martial artist nursing a cup of coffee while he handed her beads to add to her work. "Whaddup, Ten Rings…Baby Stark," you greeted them, ruffling his hair and pressing a kiss to the top of your goddaughter's head. "What're you two up to this fine completely ordinary day?"
"Oof, I take it you're gonna be spending the day watching a bunch of couples be all extra lovey dovey just like me?" You threw him a look, squinting your eyes at him that had him throwing his hands in the air in surrender. "No need to mentally squish my head, Y/N, we're on the same side, I swear," he chuckled, scooting over to the other seat so you could sit next to Morgan. "How about this, karaoke later tonight? Just us and anyone else that doesn't have a date with dinner and co--" You swatted his arm to get him to stop talking, not so subtly signaling in the little girl's direction. "I mean…adult balloons?"
"Wait how come you have special balloons?" Morgan asked, looking up from her activity book and earning barely stifled chortles from both Nat and Wanda. "Why can't I play with them? I like balloons."
You leaned back in your seat, making a motion with your hands as if you were wiping them clean of the whole conversation. "I'm not helping you out of this one, buddy."
He scratched the back of his head, obviously backed into the corner with his own words. "Eeeeeh…put a pin in that and ask me again when you can order a beer, Baby Stark."
The child pouted at both of you, slumping down in her place at the table and slipping back on her princess pink headphones before focusing all her attention on her activity book again, grumbling something about how grownups shouldn't have conversations around her if they didn't want her to ask questions. Valid enough point, but you still weren't going to be the one to give her her first lesson in Sex Ed class a good decade ahead of time.
"Anyways…" Shaun poked at your side, calling your attention back to him. "Karaoke, ladies? We can pick up Katy and Wong before we head over and sing some Disney duets and gorging ourselves on shots and nachos--"
"Hold up, Wong?" You all turned your attention to Stephen, who'd just walked in to the common area. "This I gotta see. You guys have room for one more?"
"Sure thing, as long as you use your sling ring to help us get into Tony's private stash," you quipped, taking a sip of your coffee. "There's no way I'm getting through this day stone-cold sober."
"Or we could go for the really hard stuff and break into Thor's stash of mead from Asgard before he depletes his supply." He showcased the ring in question with a wiggle of his fingers. "Just a portal away."
"I like the way you think, Strange."
"You can all cease your scheming to pilfer my liquor, my friends," Thor's voice boomed into the area, a bounce in his step as he made his way to the coffee pot. "I would happily supply you all with two barrels if that would be enough for your gathering?"
"That's perfect, Thunder. Thanks." You started to tuck into the breakfast plate served by the Compound kitchen staff, mumbling your next question to the blond god. "What've you got planned with Jane for today?"
"Ah." A wide grin stretched across his face at the mention of his girlfriend, the sight both warming your heart and pinching it at the same time. A bittersweet reminder that in the midst of romantic plans with sentimental or grand gestures, your plans involved getting shit-faced with your fellow single friends. Plus Wanda and probably Vision. "Well, I have employed the aid of Wilson to order an ornate bouquet of Jane's favorite flowers which should arrive this morning. Then for lunch I shall prepare her a meal."
"Lunch?" Wanda questioned, tilting her head to the side. "Forgive me if I overstep, my friend, but aren't the romantic plans usually made for dinner?"
"Well, yes…but Jane has graciously agreed to adjusting our schedule for this day so that I may spend the time after lunch aiding my brother in a gesture of his own." A lump formed in your throat at the words. "It seems he wishes to get into the spirit of the holiday, and I am simply ecstatic that he came to me asking for a helping hand."
"I asked nothing of you, you over-muscled oaf," you heard the raven-haired god call out from the main entrance, two large packages hovering a few inches above the ground blanketed with a glow of green from his magic. "You volunteered when you imposed yourself in my space and hovered over my phone."
"Pfft, semantics," Thor waved off, already making his way over to Loki so that he could do some more apparently unnecessary volunteer work. "Are the flowers in one of your parcels?"
"I like flowers!" Morgan chirped from her seat, bouncing in place with bright excited eyes. "Prince Loki, can I help? Please?"
He let out an exaggerated sigh, a trace of a fond, amused smile betraying his facade. "Very well, little Stark. Come along."
Your goddaughter squealed, skipping over to Thor and placing her tiny hand in his. "Uncle Barbie, tell me who his princess is?" He leaned down to whisper the answer in her ear, making her sprint in place with even more excitement. "I promise I won't say a word."
"Barbie? Like your doll, little Lady Stark?" You could practically see the wheels turning in Loki's head from learning about the nickname.
Morgan nodded her head vigorously. "Auntie Y/N came up with it. She calls him Macho Barbie." She proceeded to talk about how you came to give the blond Asgardian the nickname that bizarrely stuck to him more than "Point Break" ever did, said god looking like he already dreaded the coming days -- maybe even years -- now that his brother knew that little tidbit of information.
Once they'd all made their way up the stairs and you could no longer hear the little girl's chipper tone, realization sat heavy in your heart from her reaction to whatever Thor whispered to her just a few seconds ago. Whoever it was that Loki was going to make this grand gesture for, it was someone that Morgan knew enough to the point that she couldn't contain her excitement finding out who the woman was.
It was someone in SHIELD. Maybe even someone in the Compound.
"You good, Babes?" Nat's tone was cautious, approaching you like you were a wounded animal, teeth bared and ready to pounce if she so much as breathed wrong.
You answered with a terse nod of your head. "There is absolutely no fucking way I'm getting through today sober."
"Y/N, dude, I'm sor--"
Bang
"What the fuck?" All eyes grew wide at the sound, your body stiffening as another shot rang out, reverberating throughout the common area. "FRIDAY? Threat assessment," you called out, already readying yourself for combat once whoever was outside made their way to you in the compound.
"No threats have been detected," the AI answered simply. "There seems to be no living target for the gunman."
You could only manage to repeat your words. "What the fuck?" Shot after shot rang out, an interval of three to five seconds between them. Each deafening bang making you flinch, your head spinning with possible explanations on why FRIDAY didn't deem the supposed attacker as a threat. "Where's the target then?"
"Shots are being fired at the training area, by the track field, Agent Y/L/N." You all started to make your way to the area, everyone still on high alert despite FRIDAY's findings.
"Y/N?!" You shared a look with everyone else in the room at the sound of Loki's voice calling out for you, the god looking frantic as he appeared at the top of the main staircase, a sigh of relief escaping him once he saw you standing at the bottom. "You're alright," he exhaled, hurriedly making his way down. The quickening pace of the gunshots had him squaring his shoulders, stepping in front of you and marching toward the sound.
"We've handled way worse than gunfire, Laufeyson, you don't have to lead the defense," you told him with a touch more bite to your tone than you intended, irrational jealousy coursing through you knowing what he was preparing for before he started charging down the stairs. You sidestepped him and started walking toward the training area, brows furrowing together when you saw that from where you stood, the marks from the bullets digging into the ground where forming some sort of shape.
"It's a message…" Wanda mused, angling her head to and fro to see if she could get the whole picture from the ground. "I'm going up, I wanna see what's worth risking Pepper's wrath with all the lawn work she has to commission now." She held her hand out to you, wordlessly offering to take you up with her, an offer that you gladly took, clapping your hand over hers, both of you giggling as your feet lifted off the ground.
Once you two had risen high enough, it was clear what the message was. The shots had been positioned so that the markings would take on the shape of a heart, and the ongoing shots were creating initials. "N…" you read along, barely able to contain your excitement when you saw that the next letter was an R. "Natasha Romanoff!" you yelled out, the assassin's eyes lighting up with a mix of giddiness and curiosity as she tried to look at where the gunshots could've been coming from.
You did your best to turn your head, trying to see who was behind the gesture, kicking your feet in the air once you saw the gunman. "What? Who is it, Y/N?"
"It's Barnes," you squeaked, giving Rogers a reckless wave when you caught sight of him jogging toward all of you with a megaphone in hand.
"Natasha Romanoff," Bucky's voice boomed through the speaker system, making the usually cool and collected former Russian spy put a hand over her mouth to hide the way she was steadily turning pink from how flustered she was. "I know I have a long way to go to make up for how we first met, but I think you're swell and I'd like to try starting it off with maybe dinner tonight?" Both you and Wanda squealed and held each other tight mid-air watching her nod her answer, running over to her once your feet touched the ground again.
"You two won't be pissed if I take a rain check for tonight, will you?" she cautioned, still a wistful tone in her voice from processing what was happening.
"Absolutely not, you go enjoy your date. More drinks to go around and all that," you told her with the biggest smile. "But tomorrow night we're all staying at my place and you're giving us a full report."
"And remember to wear the red lacy underwear," Wanda teased with a comical wiggle of her eyebrows, earning her a poke to the ribs from both of you.
Nat pulled away from the two of you, walking back toward the indoor gym with Steve walking alongside her, starting to talk about how his best friend had been trying to work up the nerve to ask her out since he got sworn in to the team nearly a year ago. From the sound of the conversation, it seemed that Rogers was divulging some information that Barnes probably swore him to secrecy not so long ago.
"And then there were seven," Shaun spoke up, walking toward  you and the sorceress and clapping a hand on each of your shoulders. "Thor came through and left the barrels in the kitchen for us."
You were about to start talking about the food arrangements when the sight of Wanda's husband flying toward you all with a bouquet of camellias and hydrangeas in his hand. "Wanda, my love, I owe you my deepest apologies."
"Whatever for, Vis?" She broke away from you and Shaun to greet the synthezoid, placing her hands on his upper arms as he pulled her in for a chaste kiss.
"It did not occur to me that you might have wanted to make plans for today until Mr Stark had gone into detail of his own itinerary today for his wife," he explained, handing her the bouquet. "Unfortunately I cannot procure a reservation for us tonight, but I still wish to do something for you. Would you allow me the honor of making you a meal and perhaps watching a movie in the private theater?"
You and Shaun gripped each other's hands like you were high schoolers watching their best friend get asked out on their first big date, shaking and pushing each other over the sweetness of the gesture. "I don't need fancy restaurants or pretty flowers, Vis. Getting to spend time with you, especially after everything that's happened to us, is more than enough. I just need you."
The Sokovian turned back to face you and Shaun, a touch of guilt in her expression. "Rain check? I'll bring extra snacks tomorrow night to make up for it?"
"Don't worry about it, Babes," you reassured her, both you and the martial artist waving off her worries. "Enjoy your evening."
The couple have you a curt nod and a smile before happily flying away hand in hand back to their apartment.
"And then there were five," you and Shaun said in unison, walking back to the common area to load up those barrels that Thor left for tonight's 'festivities'. When you got to the kitchen area, Morgan was adorably sitting atop one of the barrels in question, feet happily swinging in the air with a big smile on her face.
"Off the goods, little Stark, we're not risking you getting drunk your dad's gonna kill us," Shaun said in a panic, already lifting the little girl up and off the barrel and making her squeal and giggle as she giddily exclaimed "I'm flying!".
"If you really think that she can get drunk from osmosis, we have a lot to talk about, sweet little summer child," you joked, walking up to one barrel and starting to push it toward the garage. "Think you can use that ancient mystical ring magic for makeshift wheels so we don't bust out our lungs lugging this all the way to your truck?"
"I can assist you, darling." Your skin bristled at the sound of Loki's voice, taking every ounce of strength you had to not stiffen or recoil at his use of the word. He was only saying it out of habit. Probably a remnant of his upbringing as a prince on Asgard.
He didn't mean it the way you wanted -- more than anything -- for him to mean it.
"No need, Laufeyson, I've got it from here," Strange butted in, conjuring an energy shield with his magic that he slid under the barrels, starting to wheel them toward the garage. "Carry on. Oh and friendly advice, man to god? Your future girlfriend, you know, the one you're making this big gesture for? She might not appreciate you calling other women 'darling', so I highly recommend kicking the habit while it's still early. Avoiding future battles and all."
The god sucked his teeth, the action causing his jaw to clench and sending your thoughts someplace they had no business being. You had no business thinking about another woman's man that way, no matter how hot he was.
"I will remember that. Thank you, Strange," he said softly, making his way back up the stairs.
"Thanks for the save," you muttered, opening the door to the garage for the sorcerer to guide the barrels through. "Don't think I could've gotten away with being on Bitch Mode with him a second time today. Not like I can help it, though. Some lucky Midgardian bitch is gonna be his by the end of the night."
"Pretty sure you're the only woman I know that considers being Laufeyson's girlfriend a good thing."
"Yeah, Y/N, like I know he's on our side and everything but most days he still has me on edge. Like passing him on a bad day's gonna get me a stab in the ribs, not a death glare like normal people," Shaun concurred, nudging your shoulder to hopefully stop your lamenting before you got in too deep. Again.
"I'm really down bad, huh," you sighed, letting out a little yip when a portal to the dark dimension appeared just a few feet in front of you. "The fuck--"
"Hey Strange," a reverberating ethereal voice called out from the portal, and then a tall woman with platinum hair with beauty that you could only describe as 'dark celestial' stepped out. Her eyes trained on the sorcerer next to you. "Heard that today's something of a holiday in this dimension. Figured it might be a good idea to stop by and maybe you could show me around your uh…" She turned to you and Shaun, both your jaws slack on the ground. "What's this place called again?"
"Avengers Compound?" Shaun said at the same time that you blurted out, "New York?"
"Compound York?" She raised an eyebrow at the two of you, amusement coloring her face as she gave you both a once over.
"Eherm…no," you answered her, chuckling nervously and shifting your weight between your feet. "This structure here is Avengers Compound, which is in Upstate New York. New York is a city, but also a region…and a state…?" you drifted off, already feeling a pinch in your head from trying to explain the best you could. You looked over to Shaun. "The more I try finding the words to explain, the more I realize how complicated it actually is. Save me."
Stephen stepped forward. "How about I just take you on a tour around New York, then?" His face stretched out into a wide grin, clearly unable to hide his giddiness over the knowledge that she crossed dimensions to be with him today.
"Is that…New York the city, the region, or the state?"
"The city. New York, New York. There's a whole song about it and everything I can play it for you in the car." He proceeded to drape his arm around the dark sorceress, leading her to his car further down the expansive garage.
"Your little human friend is right, things here are complicated. Downright confusing." She looked back at you and Shaun again as they walked away, hand in hand. "It was nice meeting you both! Stephen speaks highly of you all," she called out, her majestic voice echoing throughout the area.
"You're really pretty!" you blurted out in response, causing her voice to melt into a chuckle, telling her partner how she found you 'adorable'. You threw your head back and groaned toward the ceiling. "I'm a fucking dork."
"At least you're an adorable dork," Shaun shot back, nudging your shoulder and lightly touching the back of your head to get you facing forward again. His phone chimed with a text notification. "Katy. Her shift's over, she said she'll get us a room for eight. I'm texting her now to get a smaller one." He held up his hand, palm facing you. "And then there were four?"
You sighed, clapping your hand against his, your friend giving you a reassuring squeeze once you did. "And then there were four." You jerked your head toward the apartments. "I'll just go change into something that involves 'eating pants' and I'll meet you down here in ten."
The walk back up to your apartment wasn't that long, but it still felt like it with how quickly you slipped back into your lamenting over how your friends had such an eventful day today. Nat had her very public grand gesture. Wanda had her husband trying to cook human food in the name of spending time with her. Strange had his girlfriend literally rip a hole between dimensions to get here.
"And all I have waiting for me are two barrels of mead and karaoke microphones," you muttered, walking through your front door and begrudgingly unzipping your dress from the back. You were just about to half-stomp your way to your closet when something on your bed caught your eye.
Three shiny roses lined with gold, tied together with a gold ribbon at the foot of the bed. A large heart-shaped box of chocolates at the center. And a little teddy bear dressed as a bee with red antennas that had hearts at the end, at its fluffy little feet was an embroidered message. "Bee mine".
"What theeeee fu--"
"Y/N," an all too familiar voice called out from behind you. The air left your lungs at the sight of Loki in a form-fitting forest green button-down tucked into onyx black slacks, tucking his hair behind his ears before smoothing his hands over his shirt. "You're early--"
"What're you doing--Was this you?" you babbled, gesturing at the gifts on your bed. For a second, your heart beat erratically, the thought that maybe this was for you, before reality and logic sunk in. "Okay I think I know what's happening…"
"You do?"
"Yeah, you got the wrong apartment. Gimme a minute to change and I can help you move all this over to--"
The rest of your words died in a little squeak at the back of your throat, the god closing the distance between you two with a few long strides, framing your face in his hands and placing a tender fleeting kiss to your lips.
"Those tokens of my affection are exactly where they belong, little mortal," he murmured against you, tracing up the bridge of your nose with his lips until he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "As am I."
You let out a shaky breath, fighting against the urge to melt in the god's embrace as he snaked his hands around your waist. "The gesture your brother mentioned this morning…this?" He proceeded to press kisses down the side of your face, his warm exhale as he whispered 'yes' into your skin making you light-headed. "This is for me?" you gasped out, whatever was remaining of your logical brain smacking the rest of you with how stupid a question that was.
"Who else would it be for, darling?" He pressed a kiss to your jaw, tightening his arms around you and pressing your body against his. "There is no other in this or any other Realm that could have captured my heart so completely." He kissed the corner of your jaw, making his way down the side of your neck, holding you tighter to keep you up when your knees finally buckled from the sensation. "I did this for you, because I wish to ask something of you. That you become mine as much as I am yours."
"M-Mine?" you stammered. "Y-You're mine?" Since when? How come you didn't get this particular memo? Could've saved you a lot of turmoil and nights spent alone staring up at the ceiling trying and failing to hypnotize yourself out of being into him.
He kissed the tip of your nose, resting his forehead against yours. "I have always been yours, darling."
Your hands traveled up the length of his arms, like you were grounding yourself and trying to tell yourself that this was real. He was really here and he was telling you the words you wanted more than anything to hear for who even knew how long at this point.
He's here, you thought to yourself. And he's mine.
There was only one word that you could muster up in that moment. "Yes." I've always been yours, too.
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Karaoke Dreamin' on Such a Winter's Day group chat
myfirstnameisagent: Don't kill me but…rain check?
busboy10: Are you kidding me, Y/N?? You said you'd be down in 5 minutes tops and we're gonna meet up with Katy.
nromanoff: Sweet, now you're gonna have a story to tell tomorrow night, too.
myfirstnameisagent: Actually about that…rain check on tomorrow night, too? I'm kinda not there right now…
busboy10: There?? What do you mean "There"?? How'd you get out the Compound without me seeing you? Or whoever the hot date you're ditching me for is?
imjustwong: Where is everybody? We ordered nachos.
myfirstnameisagent: Yeah…I'm not in the Compound…or in New York…any of the "New York"s. Might not be for the next week. Maybe more. The three of you better not drink all the mead in one go.
busboy10: ??????
thevision: Agent Y/L/N, my wife is showing many signs of distress over her inability to contact you. Your phone seems to be going straight to voicemail.
thewanda: Y/N WHERE ARE YOU I HEARD A BANG FROM YOUR APARTMENT ARE YOU OKAY??
myfirstnameisagent: Babes, I'm fine. That was just the Bifrost.
thewanda: EXCUSE ME??
nromanoff: BABES WHAT--
pointbreakbarbie: My friends, I heard the Bifrost be summoned near Lady Y/N's abode. Is there an emergency? Must I make my way to Asgard to assist?
myfirstnameisagent: Thor your brother said if he finds you here I have permission to stab you, don't even fucking think about it.
thewanda: I REPEAT. EXCUSE ME???
busboy10: Y/N are you in Asgard?? With Loki??
myfirstnameisagent: Yes. And yes. See you in two weeks.
thewanda: He better use that healing magic on your legs so you don't walk funny.
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A/N: It took me a whole month to write this because real life was trying TKO me in the work department and also I got sucked in to the worlds of Hello Kitty Island Adventure, Disney Dreamlight Valley, and Delicious World and I've been too weak to even attempt time management 🤣
I'm working on stuff tho I swear it 🫡 Horny bitches cuts are in progress, stories are in progress…lots of progress 😅😅
Also for reference, this was the lil stuffed bear that Loki gave Reader:
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and the roses looked like this:
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'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears
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mugloversonly · 4 months
Text
What Happens Afterwards?
I read this post by @acowardinmordor and was obsessed with what happened next. Written with their blessing.
also on AO3
tw: overdose, drugs, near death experience, mentions of HIV
Summary:
Famous Eddie doesn't touch drugs...too bad Steve does After Steve ODs at a Corroded Coffin concert, he wakes up in the hospital.
Steve woke up groggy and confused. Is he in a hospital? Suddenly the night rushed back to him. He did a line, borrowed a needle. He’d meant to go back to the dressing room, but he hit the deck before he could. Shit!
He shot up and frantically looked around, hoping beyond all hope that he was alone. Luck was not on his side though, because Eddie was asleep in the hospital chair next to him. Steve took a long look at the love of his life. His eyes were red and puffy with deep bags. His hair was a tangled mess as if he’d been yanking on it. And his clothes were rumpled as if he hadn’t changed them in days.
Steve sighed. He really didn’t want to have this confrontation right now. Before that thought could even leave his brain, Eddie opened his eyes and met Steve’s. The pools of chocolate were filled with a myriad of emotions. He leaned forward and took Steve’s hand.
“Hey, Stevie. How’re you feeling?” He asked softly as he reached over and pressed the nurse call button. Steve was confused by the softness, but he wasn’t going to complain.
“How did I get here?” He asked instead, dropping his gaze.
“You were brought in as a John Doe after the concert baby.” He whispered, his voice thick. “They said you overdosed.” He didn’t sound angry, Steve would have preferred that. Instead he sounded guilty. Steve forced himself to look and felt bile rise up at the expression on Eddie’s face. “I’m sorry baby.” Eddie said. “I’m so sorry.” Tears ran down his already tear coated cheeks. Steve expected yelling, berating, and ultimatum. Anything but an apology.
“Sorry for what, Eds?” He asked. “You didn’t do anything.” That turned out to be the wrong thing to say as it turns Eddie’s cries into sobs. Something sour built a home in Steve’s chest.
“Exactly! I didn’t do anything!” He said emphatically, gesturing wildly. “You were missing! And i didn’t do anything! I let everyone else handle it while i panicked. I still played the show. I didn’t follow my gut and looked who the junkies were that night!” Tears streamed down his face, but the words rattled something in him.
“How long have I been here?” Steve asked hesitantly. Eddie took a stuttered breath.
“Five days. You’ve been here for five days. You were missing for over 24 hours.” He bit his lip trying to stifle more tears.
Steve was floored. Five days?! Wait…missing? “Oh, baby.” Steve said, mournfully running the hand not hooked up to anything along Eddie’s cheek. He melted into the contact and put his hand over Steve’s. “I’m sorry for putting this much stress on you.”
“For a minute there, I’d thought it came back.” Steve knew exactly what Eddie meant. The upside down. “But when I found out you ODed…I almost wish it had.” Eddie admitted. “This is all my fault.” He whispered unable to hold the tears back any longer.
Steve felt like he’d been on top of the world from what he could remember of the high, and he thought about chasing that rabbit. But the look in Eddie’s eyes, the deep well of pure devastation and guilt swirled together, made Steve pause. He couldn’t do this to Eddie again. “This isn’t on you.” Steve insisted. “I told you I quit. You had no reason to assume I’d be in that bathroom.” Eddie just shook his head.
“If I hadn’t forced you on the road, you never would’ve had access to this kind of hardcore shit in the first place. If I spent more time with you, if I never left you alone, you wouldn’t have felt the need to do this.” Eddie trembled. “I should have protected you better, I knew what that shit could do, I’m so sorry baby.” Steve knew then that there wasn’t anything he could say. Eddie would blame himself for this until the end of time.
That more than anything else, broke Steve down. “I’m sorry, love.” His voice trembled. “I shouldn’t have lied. I just didn’t want you to worry.” He flipped his hand up in offer. Eddie immediately filled it with his. He squeezed it as he continued. “You had so much to worry about, I didn’t want to be another. But I should have known that you’d worry anyway.” Steve looked away, ashamed.
“Baby…” he was cut off as a doctor came in.
“Well, Mr. Harrington. You’re lucky to be alive. The cocktail of drugs you took was extreme.” The doctor said.
“What do you mean?” Eddie asked.
“The heroine appeared to be laced with meth. And the line he did was cocaine and ecstasy.” The doctor said calmly. Eddie gasped a shuddering breath and his hands shook in Steve’s grasp.
“I didn’t know the heroine was laced.” He said. “It wasn’t my needle.” The regret was finally showing up. At this the doctor’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. Eddie yanked his hands away and covered his mouth.
“I’ll send in a nurse to grab some blood so we can run some tests.” He said. “In the meantime Mr. Munson, I recommend limited physical contact.” He directed that to Eddie with a look of sympathy. He nodded and the doctor took his leave. Tears sprang to Eddie’s eyes and ran down his face.
“You shared needles, Stevie?” He asked in shock, his voice quiet. His fear was clear on his face. “Have you been…doing other things for the drugs?” Steve had to come clean.
“I’d do pretty much anything for them.” He admitted.
Eddie stood up quickly and made to leave the room. “I’m going to go let Robin know you’re awake.” He dashed out before Steve could say anything else.
He fucked up. He always felt guilty after the high wore off, but this time it was horrible. He’s in the hospital, after disappearing for over a day. He should have been more careful. He knew sharing needles wasn’t the best plan, but at the time the high was worth it. But the look of betrayal, sadness, and the tiniest glimmer of disgust on Eddie’s face just now, was enough to make him never want to touch another pill. Sleep snuck up on him and he prayed that Eddie would be back when he woke up again.
His prayer went unanswered. The next time he woke up, it was Robin by his bedside. She was staring at the TV but she wasn’t really watching it. “Hey Robs” he said. She whipped her head around so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if it popped off.
“Steve! You’re awake!” She exclaimed. The smile on her face fell quickly. “You’re an idiot. If you weren’t in this hospital bed right now, I’d smack you.” He shrunk down in the face of her ire. “What were you thinking?!” She shrieked.
“I didn’t think it’d be that bad.” He admitted. The fire in her eyes could set the arctic ablaze.
“Not that bad? Not that bad?! You ODed at Eddie’s concert.” She began counting on her fingers. “You lied about being clean. You shared needles with some random junkies!” On the last point she threw her hands up. “How often have you done that? Don’t lie to me Steve.” Her eyes narrowed.
“Every once in a while when I get the itch for it. Maybe once every few months or so.” He admitted grimly. Robin’s eyes narrowed.
“So however many months you’ve been doing this, you’ve been sharing needles?” She clarified. At Steve’s nod she sprang up and paced the room. “Every time?”
“Not every time, but not rarely either.” He said as guilt started to creep into his stomach. She ran her hands into her hair and yanked on it softly.
“Have you been getting tested at least?” She asked.
“I’m not cheating on Eddie, Robin!” Steve yelled, hurt that she’d even imply that. She stopped pacing and turned to him.
“Okay, first. I didn’t say that. Second, your word has no credibility right now. I know you wouldn’t, dingus. That’s not why I was asking.” She grabbed his hand. Before she could continue, a nurse came in.
“Oh good! You’re awake. I’m going to be taking some blood okay?” She asked but really was demanding. She glared at Steve as he held out his arm for her.
“Is everything okay?” Robin asked. The nurse turned to her and gave a small smile before glaring again at Steve.
“With the patient, everything is looking like it’s returning to normal.” She snapped the tourniquet into place but when Steve flinched she didn’t look remorseful. She drew a few vials of blood, stuck a bandaid on, and pulled off the tourniquet all in silence. As she got cleaned up to leave, she finally spoke. “Look kid, it’s not my place. But that boy out there? I can take a guess as to what your relationship is with him.” She flashed a tiny pride flag pinned inside her scrubs. “He cares about you so much. He was beside himself when he came in and saw you, he had you moved to this room, he asked us if there was any kind of experimental treatment, anything to help you.” She turned that glare on him again. “He loves you to the ends of the earth and he will never leave you. You better clean up your act to be worthy of that devotion, because make no mistake. He would let you drain his veins and apologize for not bleeding out faster.” She stalked over to Robin and handed her a stack of papers. She jabbed a finger in his face, “don’t you dare break up with him in a misguided attempt to save him from you. You clean up your act. If not for yourself, then for him.“ With that she stomped out of the room and practically slammed the door behind her. For a moment neither of them said a word. Steve was filled with regret and Robin was a bit smug. She looked down at the stack of papers. Rehab clinics.
“Should we pick one?” Robin asked.
“I think I want to do it with Eddie.” Steve replied. “The nurse was right. And so were you. I’ve taken him for granted and my word means shit right now. I want to prove to him that I want to get clean.” Robin hesitated.
“Do you?” She asked. “You don’t seem particularly regretful about the actual drugs.” Her tone was soft even though her words were harsh.
“I do!” Steve exclaimed. “You didn’t see the look on Eddie’s face, Robbie. He was devastated and blamed himself for all of it. When I told him I’d do anything for the drugs he got up and left. I don’t think he’s coming back in.” He trailed off into a whisper. Robin took hold of his hand.
“Stevie, he’s right outside.” She said. At Steve’s confused look she continued. “He’s sitting on a bench right next to the door. He wanted to come back in, but I asked him to let me talk to you alone.”
“Why?” Steve asked. Robin’s eyes hardened.
“Because what I’m about to say, he wouldn’t like, but as your best friend I have to tell you hard truths. And Eddie's my best friend too so I have to protect him.” She took a deep breath. “You deserved his love once Steve. I truly believe that. But right now, his love for you is hurting him. And the only one who can fix it? Is you. He hasn’t slept or eaten practically at all since you disappeared.” Steve flinched at the word disappeared. “When he called me he was sobbing so hard I thought you died Steve.” Her eyes watered. “He kept repeating ‘it’s all my fault. I did this to him’ and Jeff had to take the phone to explain what was going on. When I got here, you were still touch and go. You died on the way here, Steve. They had to resuscitate you. The sound he made when the doctors told him that…” she shuddered. “I felt his heart shatter. The nurse is right. He will forgive you and he won’t ever stop loving you and he won’t ever leave you.” Her eyes got intense again. “So you need to promise me. Promise me! That you’ll take care of yourself. Because I don’t think I could survive watching him wither away if you leave him.” The emphasis she put on leave tore Steve apart. She didn’t mean break up with him. She meant leave him. “You don’t deserve his devotion. Not after you lied to him for months. But you have it. So now, you need to cherish it. Got it?” She asked. Steve could only nod as the dam finally broke. They held each other’s hands as they cried together.
~~~
“Can you get Eddie? Please.” He asked after his eyes dried up. Robin nodded and dashed out the door, waving Eddie inside.
Steve’s heart broke at the sight of him. He looked exhausted and his eyes were red rimmed as if he’d been crying for hours. Steve held a hand out to him and Eddie rushed to take it. Steve slid over in the hospital bed, yanking Eddie in after him. He curled around him and held him close being mindful of the wires in his hand as he draped it on Eddie’s chest. Eddie took a deep breath but Steve could feel the anxiety still thrumming under his skin. “I’m sorry, love.” Steve whispered. “I shouldn’t have lied.” He halted when he heard the sniffles. He sat up, peering at Eddie. His cheeks were wet again and Steve reached up to wipe them clean.
“Stevie, I have to ask…” he began. “And I hate to even think it. But…” he paused. “Did you…when you said you’d do anything for the drugs. Did you sleep with people for them?” He finally spit out. Steve wanted to be mad. He wanted to hiss and spit and rage at the accusation. But he knew that wasn’t fair to Eddie. He was within his rights to ask.
“No my love.” Steve promised. “Never.” Eddie nodded and sighed with relief. “I don’t know how much my word is worth right now.” He admitted. Eddie pressed a finger to his lips.
“I trust you.” He said. Those three words broke Steve. How could Eddie trust his word after everything? He asked him as much. Eddie just smiled softly. “I trust you because I want to. That’s all there is to it.”
“I’m sorry for everything.” Steve repeated desperately.
“I forgive you.” Eddie promised. “Now, let’s forget the past for a minute and focus on the future.” Eddie said. Steve looked over his shoulder to the door to the room and saw Robin and the Coffin boys. The boys were glaring at Steve but he knew it was because he hurt their friend.
Steve grabbed the rehab brochures and the two went over them until they found one that had a branch in DC. “I don’t want you to cancel the tour Eddie.” Steve was adamant. He ruined enough of the tour so far and he wouldn’t be the reason it ended. At least in DC he’d be close to Robin who would keep him in line. She promised Eddie daily updates (real updates) once Steve got out until the end of the tour. Eddie finally agreed after the boys convinced him he’d need the distraction so he wouldn’t be pacing around the house all day.
Steve leaned up to kiss him, but Eddie pulled away. The regret in his eyes was almost enough to soothe the hurt. “Not yet Stevie, okay?” He asked. Steve nodded but his head tilted in confusion. “Not until the blood tests come back.” He explained. Suddenly, Steve understood. He put himself at risk and Eddie too. The virus going around was deadly and Steve had been careless. Playing russian roulette with not only his life, but Eddie’s too and by extension the band’s.
The shame that filled him was so intense he reached over and retched into the nearby bed pan. Robin ran over with a trashcan and he kept heaving. Eddie rubbed his back as he emptied his body. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…” he cut off by dry heaving. He finally understood why Eddie ran from the room earlier and why the nurse glared at him. He’s a monster. He put the love of his life at risk of contracting a deadly disease just so he could get a fix. What the hell was wrong with him?
When he was finally done, he was exhausted. “Sleep baby.” Eddie whispered. Steve clutched tight to his hand.
“Will you stay with me?” He asked. As his eyes drifted shut.
“Forever.” Eddie whispered as Steve floated off into a dreamless sleep. His last thought was that he needed to prove he was worth forever.
~~~
The next time he woke up, Eddie was still there. Asleep curled up beside him. But in the chair next to him was someone he hoped not to see. Wayne. Their eyes met and he didn’t say anything, he just raised his right eyebrow and Steve folded. He apologized for letting Wayne down, for hurting Eddie, for lying about it. He begged Wayne’s forgiveness, but the man didn’t respond. His gaze flickered to his sleeping nephew and softened.
“You listen to me boy.” Wayne said. “My nephew is a gentle soul, quick to forgive and let things go. You should know that based on how he was after that spring break.” They both shivered at the memory. “So, he’s not going to want to hold you accountable. He’d rather just move on and take your word for it. But lucky for him, and not so lucky for you, I will be holding you accountable.” He leaned in. “I love you like one of my own Steve, I really do. But I love my brother too and he ain’t seen Eddie since they locked him up. Eddie forgave him within days, trusted him. I learned then, that if Eddie loved someone, he’d forgive pretty much everything just to keep them around. So I’ll tell you the same thing I told Al. Eddie is my boy, first. And I will protect him from anything that will hurt him, even if it’s himself. So I’ll be holding you accountable. You’re going to rehab?” Wayne asked. At Steve’s nod and explanation of where, he continued. “You’re going to give the rehab my information as someone who they can talk to. I’m going to call to check up whenever I see fit. Got it?”
“Yes sir” Steve replied. The nurse from before knocked and opened the door quietly. She paused as she saw Eddie curled up in the bed next to Steve. She gently shook him awake.
“Mr. Munson? We have both of your blood tests back.” At this Eddie was wide awake.
“You got some blood tests done Ed?” Wayne asked.
“Yeah, just um…just in case you know?” He trailed off not making eye contact with his uncle.
“Good news or bad news first?” She asked.
“Bad news first, always.” Eddie and Steve replied in tandem. They shared a private smile.
“Bad news, Steve you have moderate kidney damage. It won’t take much more to send them into failure.” She said with hard eyes.
“And the good news?” Wayne spoke up.
“Good news, you both are negative for any STDs. Including HIV.” The three men breathed a huge sigh of relief. The nurse turned to Steve. “You got lucky kid. Don’t forget that.” Steve assured her he wouldn’t and she left with a nod. He couldn’t believe he’d been so reckless. He turned to Eddie and was immediately pulled into a soft kiss.
~~~
“They said you’ll be discharged soon.” Robin said later. “Then what?” It was just the two of them.
“Then, Eddie drops me off at rehab and I get help. I stay clean. I do everything to be worthy of him.” He declared. Robin nodded her approval. Eddie came back from the hotel with all of their things packed away in a rental car. He slid into bed next to Steve.
“Hey, baby. You ready?” He asked. Steve nodded and they all left the hospital. The three of them piled into the car and drove Robin to the airport. She was going to fly back to give the boys some time alone. She hugged Steve and then Eddie. She whispered something in the his ear that had him tearing up. She went into the airport with a promise to call Wayne if she ran into any trouble.
Then it was just the two of them. They spent the first hour or so making idle small talk before the curiosity got the best of him. “What did Robin say to you?” He asked.
“Nothing important.” Eddie answered far too quickly.
“Oh, come on. You can tell me.” He knew he was being annoying but he didn’t want to think about what was awaiting him at the end of the ride. Eddie sighed, he never could keep something from Steve.
“She said if I could forgive you, I should forgive myself.” He admitted.
“You still blame yourself, love?” Steve asked. Eddie bit his lip as he nodded.
“If I hadn’t dragged you on tour, you never would have found that stuff.” Steve couldn’t let this stand. He knew he had to finally come clean.
“I was already doing it.” At Eddie’s questioning noise he continued. “As soon as we got to LA, I was looking for it. I did it at those events because it was free from someone else's supply.” He took a breath and glanced at Eddie before he admitted the next bit. “I didn’t get into this shit because I was on tour with you. I wanted to go on tour because I didn’t want to be away from you. That it would be way easier to get my hands on shit, just sweetened the deal.”
Eddie was quiet for a while after that. Steve glanced over and saw his cheeks were wet. He’d made him cry again. “So, you didn’t start them because of me?” He whispered.
“No love. And to be clear, even if I started on tour, it still wouldn’t have been your fault. You didn’t hold me down and force a line up my nose okay?” He reached out and wiped away a tear. “This was my choice. Just like going to rehab is my choice. If I didn’t really want to go, I wouldn’t.” His conviction was clear. Eddie pulled to the side of the road to kiss Steve softly before they drove the rest of the way in comfortable conversation.
They arrived at the rehab center and Eddie walked him inside. He checked in, Eddie handed over his credit card, Steve handed it right back and handed his over. The attendant smiled and swiped Steve’s card giving the boys a moment alone. They held each other close and kissed not caring at the moment who saw them. “I love you, baby. Don't forget okay?” Eddie whispered leaning his forehead to Steve’s.
“I know, love. I love you too. More than life.” He replied. He gave a final kiss to Eddie’s lips and followed the attendant into the center. He was determined to come out a new man.
~~~
Six grueling weeks later, Steve was out. He had a sponsor and group therapy sessions. Waiting to pick him up was Robin. Eddie was on the last few weeks of the tour. They had to extend it a bit to cover for Steve’s hospital stay. Robin gave him a long hug. “Ready to bust out?” She asked and they both got into the car. He lasted barely five minutes.
“How is he?” Steve and Eddie didn’t speak at all during his rehab. The center thought Eddie being on the road would be triggering to Steve. And to be frank, Wayne thought Eddie needed to distance himself from the process for a bit. Wayne and Robin had kept them both informed on the other.
“He’s okay. I mean…he misses you terribly, but he’s been coping on tour.” Robin said. Thankfully the drive wasn’t very long. Steve wanted to be in a familiar place, even if life outside of rehab was scary. They pulled up to Robin’s building and Steve stepped in after her.
There was a loud pop and confetti raining down on him. “Welcome home Steve!” Came several voices he was not expecting. The entire party was here. Wayne, Hopper, and Joyce too. But what brought him to tears was the sight to his left. Eddie was there, holding his arms open. Steve ran into them, nearly knocking them both to the ground.
“I thought your tour didn’t end for a few more weeks?” He asked in between kisses.
“I lied about the end date to surprise you.” He admitted holding Steve close. “Are you surprised?”
“Very! A good surprised!” The two pulled apart so everyone else could greet Steve. Eddie didn’t go far, not letting go of Steve’s hand the entire time. He’d felt better in rehab once the withdrawals subsided. More clear headed, more aware. But he didn’t feel completely healed. Feeling the warmth of Eddie’s hand in his, Steve felt hopeful for the future. As he made eye contact with the man again, Steve silently promised to stay clean. Not for just Eddie. But for himself too.
~~~
He skipped the next tour as recommended by his therapist. The two men decided it would be better if he wasn't alone, so Wayne stayed with him. He'd been retired from the plant and wanted to move out to LA with Eddie anyway.
He and Eddie had a hard time, but they make due with calls and letters. On one memorable occasion Steve sent a racy Polaroid. That night, Eddie called already worked up and they had a wonderful time. The reunion was so sweet. They were locked in their bedroom for days, coming out only for food and water. The rest of their friends knew better than to come visit until the love birds made the first move.
The band wrote a new album and started a nonprofit for drug addicts. It helped those who couldn't afford to get clean and see therapists, providing them with clean needles and clean drugs to help ween off them. Steve didn't shy away from his overdose, or the affect it had on those around him and he encouraged the others not to either. Eddie did several interviews on how helpless he felt when his "best friend" was taken to the hospital as a John Doe. This spurred the nonprofit to add resources for loved ones of addicts too.
Steve had been sober for three years when he went on tour with the band again. For real this time. He got clean and he stayed clean. When he was offered something at a party, he couldn't say he wasn't tempted. But he'd look over to see his love laughing and knew he'd do anything to keep that sound in the world. He never wanted to jeopardize Eddie's happiness again and he finally accepted he was his happiness.
And the next time the band played The Garden, Steve was on the sidelines cheering for Eddie and the band. He made sure Eddie could always see him and know he was safe. That look of guilt and devastation he saw in the hospital never returned to Eddie's face and Steve was determined to keep it that way.
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daddy-dins-girl · 6 months
Text
Playdate - Chapter Nine
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Main Masterlist Series Masterlist
AO3 link
pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York
Word Count: 9.1k
Notes: All the feelings in this chapter... I'm so sorry everyone. I swear I have an end goal in mind and I'm gonna make it better... just not YET.
Chapter Warnings: (skip if you don't wanna be spoiled, if you've made it this far in the series, you'll be fine). 18+ MDNI. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Confessions of infidelity. Dry humping. Oral Sex. 69 sex position. Unprotected p in v. Creampie. Daddy Kink. Rough sex. Breathplay. Daddy!Marcus. Dom!Marcus. Aftercare. Consensual somnophilia. Lots of feelings. Severe lack of Dave York (I'm so sorry, I'll make it up to you I swear).
HUGE thank you to @janaispunk for beta'ing and letting me talk her ear off when I get an idea in my head and helping me work it out lol. And also for calming my anxiety every time I go to post a chapter :P
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You woke up to a bed that seemed suddenly too large and missing the warmth Dave’s body heat provided it with. Marcus was sleeping soundly next to you and you’re not even sure when that had happened or when he got in but clearly it was after you had passed out.
But where was Dave? Did Marcus walk in and find you and him in bed together and an argument ensued? Surely that would have woken you up so you quickly shake that notion from your head. Maybe everything was fine and you were freaking out preemptively over nothing. Dave had probably just gone down to the lobby again for coffee and when he came back the three of you could sit around and hopefully have an honest and open conversation. That sounded, to you, a logical reason for his whereabouts as any so you decided you weren’t going to begin to fret about something without any warrant and snuggled up to your husband to wait, but when nearly half an hour had passed and he didn’t return, you decided to pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat.
Your throat nearly dropped into your stomach at the words that greeted you when you opened it.
Dave York has left the group.
Without giving it a second thought you quickly scroll through your contacts until you find his name and hit the call button but after a single ring it goes to voicemail. Unsure what exactly that means you try for a text instead. Simple, direct, to the point.
Hey, are you ok?
The blue bubble pops up on your screen and you wait, however neither the “delivered” or “read” notification appears underneath it and that’s when it hits you.
Dave has blocked your number.
Confused and hurt, you toss your phone over to the nightstand where it clatters to the surface, skids across the smooth wood and then falls to the carpeted floor with a light thud, though you couldn’t be bothered to care right now. The commotion however rouses your husband who, lying on his stomach, quickly pushes himself up onto his elbows and glances around the room before his gaze lands on you.
“What’s the matter?” he asks, voice groggy with sleep.
You don’t answer him right away, because, how could you. Everything. Fucking everything was the matter! What you had done last night, it all comes flooding back to you in an instant and you suddenly feel overwhelmed with emotions and you have no choice but to burst into tears, your knees coming up to your chest as you wrap your arms around them and bury your face, shoulders shaking with every sob that leaves your body.
“Honey! What…” Marcus sits up in an instant, panicked. His arms immediately envelop your frame and his voice frantic as he pulls your whole body into his lap and holds you close to his chest. “Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh. Sweetheart tell me what’s wrong” he tries, fear still lacing his tone as he attempts to appear outwardly calm, holding you to him and gently rubbing a hand up and down your back.
You feel so absolutely wracked with guilt that you can’t even find words to even begin trying to explain yourself to Marcus so instead you just bury your face further into his throat and let him comfort you, though you know you don’t deserve it. The moment he hears what you have to say for yourself you fear he’s going to be putting as much distance between the two of you as possible so you need him to just hold you a little while longer before that happens. It’s selfish. You’re selfish. But at this moment, you don’t care. How could you have done this to Marcus? And for what? For Dave to just leave you both like that? Like these months have meant nothing to him? You want to believe that’s not true, but what choice has he left you with?
Marcus worries endlessly as he holds you in his arms, honestly surprised you’re even allowing him to hold you but he’ll take it for as long as he can get it. Dave must have told you what he’d done yesterday while you were asleep and now look at the problems it’s caused.
You both lie there in each other's arms, taking in whatever comfort you can get from one another. You’re openly sobbing while Marcus’ tears are more subdued, but definitely still there. You can feel them on the naked flesh of your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck and the two of you clutch onto each other, terrified of the other letting go. What you don’t realize is that you’re both fretting over the exact same thing.
After several long minutes of just holding each other your words echo each other as you both let them out at the exact same time into the heat of each other’s flesh.
“I’m sorry.”
The words cause you both to stiffen momentarily and then slowly pull back, finding each other’s watery gaze as you both stare, confused.
The murmured apologies eventually turn into a good hour of confessions from both of you. You take turns spilling everything about what happened last night without the other present all while failing to hold back the flow of tears. Marcus admits not only to his indiscretions in the shower with Dave, but how there was no work emergency last night and he’d lied to you because he was too scared that he’d ruined everything. He tells you how absolutely horrible he’d felt, leaving you on your birthday like that but he felt so confused after what had happened, he couldn’t even bear to have you look at him knowing what he’d done and was keeping from you. The admission about what he and Dave had done in the shower nearly had your eyes bugging out of your head, though you tried your absolute best not to outwardly react too much, you didn’t want to make Marcus uncomfortable or have him hold back anything so you kept quiet and mostly just nodded your head, though your brain was working a mile a minute trying to process everything. You’d decided near immediately that you weren’t upset at him for it. The only thing you were upset about in that scenario is that you hadn’t been there to witness it; though you keep that admission to yourself for now. You were upset, however, that he had left. If he would have just stayed maybe you all wouldn’t be in this position now. Maybe Dave would still be here. You know though that Marcus isn’t the only one to blame and it’s not fair to put this all on him. The fact was he did leave, and you did what you did afterwards, knowing full well how it could affect things.
You tell Marcus how Dave had originally left but had come back and that the two of you had slept together. Your tears turned into sobs as you admitted the last part. You knew it was wrong, you felt in your heart that it was cheating, regardless if Marcus saw it that way or not. He’d tried to quickly shrug it off at first, to make you feel better, reminding you that “you’d slept with Dave lots of times” but when you responded with a quiet “yeah, but not like this…” and were unable to look him in the eyes, you could see the moment the realization dawns across his sad, handsome face and he lowers it to look away, gently nodding in understanding.
Marcus swallowed the lump in his throat but wrapped his arms around you and held you tight to his chest, peppering kisses to your hair and ensuring you over and over that he loved you.
It only made you cry harder.
Eventually the tears subside and Marcus drapes the bedclothes over you both and pulls you into his side, gently petting your hair until you both fall back asleep, it was barely 7am after all and you didn’t even know how late Marcus had got in. You still had a lot to discuss but you were both exhausted, physically and emotionally. Your head was pounding from the amount of tears you cried and you just needed to shut out the world for a little while longer, held safe in the comfort of your husband's arms until you fell back asleep.
When you do wake up again, barely an hour later, Marcus is already out of bed and wandering around the suite, freshly changed into a new set of clothes and shoving his old ones into the suitcase you had already packed. There’s a takeout coffee cup waiting for you on the bedside table when you open your eyes and you sit up, wordlessly taking the simple peace offering and taking a drink.
You get through a few sips but your stomach is doing somersaults. All the anxiety and emotions of the last twelve hours or so wear heavily on you so you place the cup aside and climb out of bed, holding the sheet tight around your frame as you head over to the dresser where Marcus had kindly laid out your last clean outfit for you.
You barely speak a word to each other as you both get ready to leave this room behind. Occasional questions like “did you remember to grab your toothbrush” or “is this your lotion or the hotel’s?” as you putter around the room and prepare to leave.
Finally everything is packed, you're both dressed, the room is mostly back in one piece and you’re ready to go. You meet Marcus at the door and you both take a breath, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as your shoulders settle and you reach down and slide your hand into his. His fingers interlace around yours and for the first time all day you finally feel grounded again.
“Come on, let’s go home” he says, pulling the door open with his free hand and guiding you out.
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The first week that you’re back home goes by in a blur. You both had to go back to work on Monday and you manage to settle back into your usual routines easily enough but there’s still a strain between the two of you. You know you need to talk more but had both decided you needed time to just let everything sink in and process. You missed Marcus immensely, despite the fact that he still slept in your bed every night and kissed you goodbye every morning, things were far from how they were before your birthday weekend happened.
Perhaps fortunately or unfortunately for you both, your work lives were very busy. Typically Marcus left before you because his commute was longer and you both worked long shifts most days so your time together at home while you were both still awake and functional was limited. Some nights you managed to both be home to eat dinner together, but this week it was a pretty quiet affair. You’d ask each other about your days, small talk mostly, and then if you weren’t too exhausted you’d cuddle on the couch and watch a little tv before bed and start the process over again the next day. Despite the rift, you still wanted to be close to each other. Neither of you were angry at the other; more so at yourselves than anything. That, and you were confused. It was hard to have a conversation together about all the feelings you were having when you hadn’t quite sorted them out for yourselves. And with Dave AWOL it made it even more confusing and hurtful to navigate. It was difficult to figure out where the three of you stood when there were only two of you willing to talk things out.
Your mind often wandered to Dave, particularly when you were at work and would have a few minutes of downtime. You pulled up your private message chat with him every couple of days too just to see if your single text to him ever got marked as ‘delivered’ or ‘read’, wondering if he’d unblocked you, but nothing. What was so frustrating is that you know it wasn’t one-sided. It couldn’t have been. You know what he felt with you that last night together because you felt it too. Perhaps the real reason he left is because of his loyalty to Marcus, he didn't want to be a burden on your marriage, but the truth was Dave just enriched it. And you had a feeling Marcus might feel the same way, you just needed him to admit it to you. You hoped the two of you would have a good chance to talk this weekend, you felt like it was time.
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Saturday evening was finally upon you and you lay on the couch after a simple dinner, wine glass mostly untouched on the coffee table in front of you as you half paid attention to the movie playing on the TV. Marcus had had a busy day, having to work for a couple hours from home in the morning and then running some errands for his elderly father that he typically would do on a Saturday. Today took a little extra long due to him being away last weekend for your birthday so by the time he got home he was exhausted so you had offered to cook and now the two of you were laid out on the sofa, Marcus behind you with his back to the cushions and you on your side snuggled with your back to his chest and laying your head on his arm.
You attempt to focus on the movie playing in front of you because you know how tired your husband is, but he makes it difficult when the fingers of his right hand trail absently up and down your side where your shirt slightly rides up, the delicate trace of his fingertips leaving goosebumps on your flesh in their wake. You shift slightly and in doing so the fabric of your shirt catches a little more on the seat of the sofa and rises up further, and Marcus’ hand reaches a little higher too until his fingers are at your ribs. You let out a little whine at the contact. He’s barely touching you but it's more than you’ve had all week and you’re missing him so desperately so you give up the facade and turn fully onto your back, causing his hand to slip even higher until it rests just underneath your breast.
You hear his breath hitch slightly and he turns his head down to look at you, your soft, wanting gaze boring into his. Wordlessly you reach your hand up to rub at the side of his neck and turn your body again so that you’re face to face. He moves his hand voluntarily, finally, splaying it across your breast and giving it a gentle squeeze, his breath catching in his throat when he sees your eyes fall shut and your lips release a hum of pleasure.
“Marcus” you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. “Please”
It’s all Marcus needs to hear. In a moment he’s got both his hands going underneath your ass and hauling you up on top of him, positioning himself on his back with your full weight resting on him, hands still on your ass and pushing downwards to grind you against his already stiffening length. You surge forward, sealing his mouth with yours. The kiss is sloppy and desperate and filled with pent up sexual desire and you’re both moaning into it, reveling in the dominant dance between your two tongues.
“Do you wanna go to bed?” he asks breathlessly a few moments later when you’re forced by lack of oxygen to pull apart.
“Mnnnm mmm” You shake your head before your mouth latches to his again. “Need you” you mumble against his lips. “Take me right here”
“Fuck” he groans, both hands squeezing roughly at your ass as he continues to ground you down into him, his own hips thrusting upwards to meet yours. “God I fucking missed you” he confesses, mouth trailing down the side of your throat now instead as his hands reach up to the waistband of your sweats and push them down along with your underwear.
You help him free you of the confines of your pants, kicking them down your legs and finally flinging them off to the floor while Marcus grabs for the hem of your t-shirt and pulls that over your head. You're grateful at this moment that you had foregone a bra tonight, dressed for a comfortable evening at home. Marcus, on the other hand, is far too overly dressed in your opinion, still in his jeans and a long sleeve Henley. Though you find it hard to complain at the delicious friction the unforgiving denim gives to your now bare core and it's no secret to Marcus either, the way you moan and writhe against him.
“Baby, please” you whine, hands desperately grasping at the buttoned enclosure of his jeans. The button pops open and you manage to drag the zipper down but before you get any further he’s growling into your throat and shaking his head, repositioning your body until you're straddling on just one of his thighs.
“Need you to cum for me first” he demands, already sounding wrecked and breathless and you think he needs you to for his sake as much as your own, probably trying to extend this experience for longer than it would have been were he to push inside you right now like you both so desperately want him to. You let out another moan, eagerly obeying his wishes as your hands go to his chest and you push yourself upright so you’re sat on his muscular thigh and begin to rock back and forth against it, the delicious drag of denim against your weeping cunt creating a wet patch on his jeans that neither of you could be bothered to be embarrassed or care about. His large hands come up and each grab hold of a breast, expertly manipulating and teasing the soft mounds of flesh, thumbs and forefingers coming down to pinch and squeeze at your nipples until they’re hardened peaks under his touch.
“Oh fuck,” you cry out, head thrown back as you continue to ride his thigh, amping up the pace as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm that is just within reach.
“That’s it baby,” Marcus encourages, his own pupils blown wide with lust as he watches you arch your back and grind desperately against him. His hands leave your breasts and go to your hips, helping you reach that point of long awaited bliss. He bares his teeth as he watches your features contort into what can only be described as pure ecstasy and growls out the words that have been lingering on his tongue since he actively took charge of your impromptu makeout session just minutes ago, “Good girl, come on, you’re gonna fucking cum for your Daddy now.”
“Fuck!” His words, along with the relentless rocking pressure of your cunt digging into his thigh sends you flying over that edge with a screamed curse leaving your lips, your arousal pooling out of you, body trembling and spent but Marcus doesn’t let up, continuing to drag your folds along the strong muscle and it’s too much, you try to push off of his chest with your hands but his grip is strong and fierce at your hips, ensuring you get every last drop of pleasure from your prolonged orgasm.
“Fucking soak me baby” he groans and you look down to see the own wet patch he’s created in his boxers that are peeking through his partially opened jeans. It doesn’t appear to be enough that he’s finished and he’s still visibly hard as steel underneath the soft cotton, but he’s certainly gotten himself worked up to the point where the precum is eagerly flowing from him.
Evidently satisfied with you as you slow the rocking of your hips to indicate the waves of pleasure have subsided Marcus repositions you again so you’re lying back fully on top of him. He pushes his jeans down to his thighs but leaves his boxers in place as he gently ruts into you from underneath, the strained fabric of his boxers rubbing against your oversensitive sex, causing you to whimper and tremble.
“Let me suck you baby” you breathe against the hollow of his throat where your face is currently buried. Not only does your cunt need the reprieve but he’s got you so turned on you feel like you might just combust if you don’t get him inside of you in some form or another.
“Yeah? You wanna suck my cock, dirty girl?” Marcus growls and lord help you if it doesn’t send another pool of wetness right between your legs. Marcus was not normally like this. Sure the two of you could get a little kinky sometimes on your own but he’d never been like this before and it was driving you crazy with want.
You both knew what he was doing, filling a void a certain someone had left behind. Something you both craved without having to admit to each other. You both needed this, and so, you went along for the ride.
“Please Daddy, want you in my mouth, please” you beg helplessly, your lust-filled brain reduced to complete mush and barely able to string a sentence together and Marcus audibly groans at your submission to him.
“Turn around, want you to sit on my face while you do it” he breathes against your cheek and then slides his hands down to grab at your ass and squeeze firmly. His hands release you but he gives you one sharp swat to your left asscheek that has you crying out and arching into him before he helps you reposition yourself so you’re kneeled overtop of him with your knees on either side of his head and bent over his body so your face hovers above his pelvis. He pushes his boxers down to meet his jeans at his thighs then brings his hands to your hips to lower you down to his mouth just as your head retreats to take his leaking tip between your lips.
The groan he lets out into your cunt as you fully envelop him in your mouth has your lower half spasming, your thighs involuntarily squeezing his head as your hips chase the pressure of his tongue.
“Oh fuck!” You cry out, mouth falling away from him as you crane your neck back to try and get a glimpse of the feast Marcus is making of what’s between your legs. It doesn’t last long however because his hand comes up and swats at your ass again, reminding you without words what you’re supposed to be doing and you quickly oblige, turning back and doubling your efforts on sucking him off, taking him as deeply down your throat as your body will allow and swallowing down before you ease back up and repeat the action. Your hand soon joins your mouth, wrapping around the base of his shaft and stroking it in time with each bob of your head and he hums and groans his approval of your actions into your core as he continues to lick and suck and prod at your clit and hole with his talented tongue.
When he feels your thighs trembling again and his own release too rapidly approaching he goes for what knows drives you crazy and will easily pull another orgasm from you and sucks your clit into his mouth, relentless and unforgiving until your mouth rips off of him and you cry out, your hand pumping him furiously as wave after wave of your orgasm crashes around you and you ramble out little mewls of pleasure and praise at how hard he’s made you come.
He lets out a content, satisfied sigh as he slows the efforts of his mouth, gently bringing you back to earth with slow licks and prods of his tongue until you're shaking and trembling begins to subside and your rocking against his face finally slows. Your hand wrapped around his length has also slowed to barely moving, not having brain capacity or muscle coordination to simultaneously pleasure him and ride the aftershocks of your own orgasm but Marcus is thankful for the reprieve, needing to be inside you before he finishes.
“Up,” he gently demands, tapping lightly against your hip and you pull away from him with a long drawn out groan, your limbs feeling like jelly as you attempt to get control over them again. Marcus chuckles a little but is quick to help you, gently raising your hips and then pushing you forward as he manages to snake his own body out from underneath you until you’re on hands and knees on the couch and he’s behind you.
“Lean forward, just relax” he instructs, pushing lightly on your shoulders so your elbows collapse and you slowly slide forward, knees still bent and kneeling on the couch but your face now buried in the seat cushion. “Yeah, just like that” he coos, fingertips tracing down your spine and you arch at his touch, desperate and ready for him. He lets his hand trail further still, over the swell of your ass until he’s between your legs and he gently plays with you, fingers gliding through your slick folds and up to circle at your clit before they slide back down and prod at your entrance.Your body keens at his touch, back arching, ass up in the air as your arms stretch out in front of you, not unlike a cat waking up from a long nap in the sun and Marcus lets out a little chuckle.
“Yeah, this is where you need me, hmm?” He rasps, voice low as he teases at your entrance with his fingers. “Poor baby needs her pretty little pussy filled up?” His hand leaves you only to go to his own mouth so he can wet his fingers with his own saliva before he brings them back between your legs and presses two inside of you, curling them just right and sliding in and out of you a few times before he adds a third. It’s so much, feels so good, and yet still not enough.
“God, Marcus, please. Please fuck me” you cry out, desperate and needy, hips beginning to rock back and forth against his hand, anything you can do to get some relief.
He gets up from the couch suddenly to rid himself of the rest of his clothing before positioning himself behind you again, grabbing hold of his hard, leaking member and guiding it between your legs. He groans when his naked flesh finally makes contact with yours, his smooth length pushing back and forth between your wet folds, coating himself in your slick and the tip of his cock teasing at your clit. You whimper unintelligibly at the contact that stimulates every last one of your nerve endings, your whole body keening with delight.
Marcus marvels at how soaked your folds are as he slides through them with ease. “Yeah you’re nice and ready for me, hmmm? Gonna be my good girl?”
“Yes, please, take me. I fucking need you so bad.” You’re not above begging at this point, especially if it gets you want you want, need, crave.
With your desperate pleas still lingering in the air Marcus lines himself up at your entrance and presses forward, filling you completely on the first push of his hips until he’s buried to the hilt, his hands gripping tight around your waist, thumbs digging in deep to the meat of the top of your ass.
“Holy fuck” he groans as he takes a moment stilling inside you, needing a second not only to let you adjust, but to resist his own temptation to let go and finish before he’s even begun. It’s only been a week but it somehow feels like an eternity since he’s last had you. He’s done his best to distract himself with work and other obligations but not a minute of the day has gone by where he hasn’t thought about you, about how much he missed you, how much he needed you. It had taken everything in him not to beat himself off in the shower every morning this week, the only thing holding him back was knowing how much better it would feel when he finally gets the relief the way he wants it; being inside of you.
After a few long moments and steadying breaths, Marcus manages to collect himself and center himself back into the moment. His hands grip you a little tighter and he finally begins to move, pulling back with a slow and delicious drag of his cock against your walls until he’s almost fully out before he slams forward, driving himself back deeply inside with a single snap of his hips that sends you lurching slightly forward, something between a gasp and cry punching out from your lungs.
“Marcus! Oh my - fuck. Baby, fuckfuckfuck” You’re a mewling, writhing mess underneath him as Marcus keeps up his steady pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon, hips pistoning back and forth, fast and hard.
“Yeah you like that” Marcus grinds out through clenched teeth before he lifts his right hand and lands a sharp smack to your ass, causing you to jolt forward again. “Can feel you fucking trying to squeeze me out baby, choking my cock. Good girl. Good fucking girl” he groans, railing into you even faster and you’re reduced to just mumbled cries and gasps into the couch cushion your face is still buried in.
“I can’t hear you” he suddenly growls, one hand leaving your hip to grab your hair and force your head to tilt up and oh fuck if Marcus pulling your hair doesn’t do something to you.
“I fucking love it!” You cry out, breaths coming out hard and fast. “Love taking your big cock Daddy, don’t stop”
“Shit… baby, shit I… fuck!” Marcus curses, not faring much better as he ruts into you like a man possessed. He lets go of your hair and repositions to your hips, his fingertips digging into your sides so desperately that you know come tomorrow you’ll be bruised but you don’t care. You want the reminder, you’ll welcome it even.
“Take me. Takemetakemetakemetakeme” You chant breathlessly, the words punching out of your throat timed perfectly to each of his rough forward thrusts.
Somehow despite you being fucked into a near stupor, you find the wherewithal to sneak a hand underneath yourself and reach between your legs, fingers desperately rubbing fast and furiously against your aching and needy clit. It only serves to empower Marcus, seeing how desperate you are to climax again and despite the less than comfortable position he’s got himself into kneeled on the couch he takes full advantage, leaning down slightly to wrap an arm all the way around your throat so it’s caged in by his bicep, the other gripping the back of the couch to get as much leverage as he possibly can from the position and he doubles his efforts. He pushes harder and faster until the room is filled with the debauched sounds of wet slaps of skin and heavy breathing and moaning and within a few short moments your vision goes white behind your eyelids and you cry out a shuddering gasp turned moan and your hand falls away from your now oversensitive sex as your orgasm takes over, the effects of it gushing out of you and coating Marcus’ length, dripping down to his balls and surely leaving a mess on the couch that you can’t begin to care about right now.
“God Baby, you’re so fucking good, fucking soaking me” Marcus manages, voice faltering along with the steady rhythm of his hips as he bucks into you sloppily now, the sheer force of your constricting walls inciting his own release and with a few more pushes of his hips he begins to paint your insides.
“Holy fuck” he reiterates, body spent and breathing heavily as he slowly continues to rock in and out of you. You whimper and moan underneath him, the overstimulation bordering on too much as you wait for your trembling to subside.
Marcus’ grip on your throat loosens significantly so you can fully catch your breath and he brings his hand up to run soothingly down your back instead, still fucking into you deep and slow and honestly you don’t know how he’s found the stamina or managed to stay hard but you’re not about to complain, he feels that fucking good.
“You want me to stay inside you?” He asks, though you both know he already knows the answer.
You bring your bottom lip between your teeth and manage to mumble an affirmative “mmmhmmm” into the couch cushion.
“Fuck you full of my cum, you like that baby?”
“Yes, fuck,” you tear your face away to the side so your words are no longer garbled into the couch cushion, you want him to hear you. “Fucking me so deep Daddy, holy shit it feels so good.”
Marcus hums his apparent satisfaction at your words, his hand that was gripping the back of the sofa coming to join the other to soothe up and down your back and sides, occasionally smoothing over the globes of your ass before they come back up and make their way up towards your shoulders again. He manages to keep going for another minute or so until he physically can’t, his cock softening inside of you eventually slips out and you both groan at the loss but his hands don’t stop touching you. When his spent dick leaves your swollen sex he leans down and places little kisses all over whatever inch of flesh on your back and shoulders he can reach until finally he pulls away, standing up from the couch and offering his hand to you. You take it, and with a groan (and Marcus’ help), manage to pull yourself up from the sofa. His fingers interlace with yours when he grabs your hand and he wordlessly leads you out of the living room, up the staircase to your bedroom.
Once inside he guides you immediately to the ensuite bathroom and turns you to rest with your back against the countertop while he busies himself grabbing a fresh facecloth from the linen shelf and turns on the hot water, wringing the cloth out a few times before turning off the taps and turning to face you. To your surprise, and a night and day contrast to how he was acting just minutes ago, he sinks to his knees on the unforgiving marble flooring and gently pries your thighs apart and then stares up at you, holding your gaze as he gently cleans up the mess between your legs. Your hand comes down to push through his hair, pushing it back past his forehead and a smile pulls at your lips. Once he’s finished cleaning you up he rises to his feet again, tosses the cloth in a nearby hamper and then his hands go straight to your hips, a gentle barely-there hold and he looks down at them, murmuring under his breath at the little discolored indents on your soft flesh, “I didn’t hurt you did I?”
It catches you off guard, the question. He seems unsure and maybe even upset with himself and you frown, reaching for his face and forcing his gaze back up to meet yours.
“Baby, no, of course not. You could never hurt me”
“Promise?” he asks just to clarify, soft, round brown gaze boring into yours.
“I promise. Marcus, that was… thank you” is all you can think to say. He seems to accept your answer, leaning forward and capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, hands leaving your hips to come up and cup your face as his tongue parts your lips and slips inside to entangle with yours. When he finally pulls away you’re breathless and lean your head forward to rest on his shoulder, arms going around his waist.
“I just love you so much” he whispers against your hair. “I’d do anything for you, you know that?”
“I know” you murmur. “You do do everything for me Marcus. I love you too, more than anything” Your arms tighten a little more around his middle and you bury your face in his neck, unable to hold back the few tears that spill out. Marcus nuzzles at the side of your face and you can feel his own tear stained cheeks as he holds you close in the quiet serenity of your bathroom. You both take a minute to just let the moment settle over you before finally Marcus heaves a little sigh and pulls back, quickly wiping away at his face with the back of his hands.
“Come on, let me take you to bed”
You spend the night in his arms. The steady beat of his heart where your ear lays pressed against his chest lulling you into a peacefulness that you hadn’t felt in days.
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Sunday is a whirlwind. The first time you wake up it’s to Marcus with his head between your legs, slowly lapping at you like a cat with a bowl of cream. He’s not hurried or frenzied or even seemingly trying to work towards an end goal of an orgasm for you, he just needs to be close to you, taste you. He lazily licks and kisses and sucks at you while you gently writhe your hips against him, hands lost in his soft hair and fingernails occasionally scraping against his scalp, which you know he loves. He murmurs little sweet nothings into your heated core while he pleasures you for what seems like a small eternity, never tiring or complaining, just reveling in the closeness. You end up orgasming twice during his time down there, which you’d guessed to be about an hour, both coming on quick, strong and sudden and from seemingly nowhere. Your hand fists in his hair and your hips arch upwards and still as he works you through each one and then he continues on. By the time your second orgasm has fully settled you gently push at the top of his head and he takes your wordless request, single digit slipping out of you and mouth moving away from your over sensitive sex to kiss and lick at the insides of each of your thighs, the top of your mound, and eventually making his way up your body until he’s lying on his side next to you.
He’s being his soft, sweet, gentle self this morning, you think it’s his way of making up for last night. Not that he has anything to make up for, at least in your mind.
“Baby,” you sigh, right hand coming up to cup his cheek.
“I love you” he says, in a way that makes it seem like he needs to remind you, like he’s saying it for the first time and needs to ensure you hear him.
“I love you too” you assure him.
He opens his arms and you crawl into them without question, letting him hold you, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and you half draped over top of him with your face resting on his chest. He gently pets your hair and places little kisses to the top of your head while he holds you and you let out a content little sigh, snuggling deeper into his chest. You feel the unmistakable hardness of him between your two bodies but he seems to be trying to ignore it so you do your best not to grind against him like your body’s instincts want you to.
“We should talk” he murmurs against your hair and you gently nod your head in agreement.
“We should”
“How do we start?” He wonders honestly and you shrug your shoulders a little.
“I think first and foremost we need to be honest, no matter how hard it is to say or how hard it may be for the other person to hear”
“I agree” he says quietly, heaving a sigh.
A long silence stretches on before you realize you’ll have to be the one that starts this conversation.
“I miss him” you decide to start with, straight out of the gate. You agreed to be honest, after all, and that was the first thing on your mind, and it’s been on your mind all week. Your voice is quiet, meek even, but loud enough you know he’s heard you.
“I do too,” Marcus confesses, his arms tightening a little more around you, like he’s afraid you’ll be upset with his response.
You do gently pull away from Marcus’ hold, but only because you want to be able to look him in the eyes while you have this conversation so you gently push back and raise yourself up a bit so you’re fully on your side facing him. You settle his nerves by quickly wrapping both your hands around one of his and giving it a firm squeeze, bringing it to your lips to place a kiss on it.
“Why do you think he left?” You ask next, unable to hide the hurt in your voice.
“I don’t know” Marcus sighs deeply, his free hand coming up to scrub over his face. “I thought, at first, maybe you know it was me? Like what we did… he… didn’t like it or regretted it or something”
“Did you like it?” You flip the question back to Marcus. You assume he did, but you two really hadn’t had much of a conversation about it. He’d told you what they did, but didn’t dwell on it or how he’d felt about it.
“Um,” Marcus turns his face slightly away from you and you can see the tips of his ears turning a brighter shade of pink.
“Hey,” you say firmly, hands dropping his so you can place one on his cheek and force his gaze back to you. “Honesty, remember? There’s nothing you can say that will change how I feel about you, ok? Ever”
“I know, I’m sorry” he closes his eyes and takes a breath before opening them again and his gaze finally settles on you. “I… I mean, yes, ultimately. It was amazing. I came like… really fucking hard” he admits with a laugh to cover his obvious nerves and you offer a reassuring smile, nodding your head for him to continue. After a moment, he does. “I don’t know though, like I’ve never done anything with a guy before, or ever wanted to, so I think it was more so because it was Dave, rather than what we were doing? If… if that makes sense?” He tries, trailing off and unsure of how to articulate himself.
And it does make sense. At least to you. Because what had started between the three of you was supposed to be Dave offering you both something different, new, but then last weekend you had been with Dave in a similar way that you are with Marcus and you’d loved that too. And last night how Marcus was with you was everything Dave typically brought to the table and you loved that as well and yet, you still missed Dave. Not just the way he grabbed your hair when your mouth was around him, or the filthy words he’d murmur against your ear when he was deep inside you, or how his hand would tighten around your throat and release just moments before your orgasm inevitably crashed around you, but you missed him. You missed Dave.
“No, I get it” you finally say out loud, gently nodding your head. “Last night was… God Baby, that was fucking amazing” you admit, grin stretching across your features as you tilt your gaze back up to look at him and his own smile tugs at the corners of his lips like he’s elated to hear you say that.
“Yeah?” He questions with uncertainty in his tone.
“Yeah” you affirm with a solid single nod of your head. “But that’s kinda my point. Last night you gave me everything I could’ve wanted before and you did it so perfectly but…” you trail off, wanting to make sure you choose your words carefully but then you don’t have to because Marcus picks up on it immediately.
“But you still miss him”
“Yeah,” you shrug, your voice soft and you bring your gaze down to your lap, fingers absently picking at the sheet covering you. “Is that okay?”
Marcus heaves a sigh, pulling you close into his chest again and you go willingly, snuggling in his warmth and letting him hold you.
“Of course it’s ok”
There’s a long stretch of silence until finally Marcus murmurs into your hair, barely above a whisper but you hear him clear as day, “do you think you love him?”
Tears instantly well in your eyes and you turn your head to bury it in your husband's neck, bringing your own arms out to wrap around him and keep him close. You don’t give him any type of verbal confirmation or denial, because you haven’t really figured that out for yourself, but the non-answer is perhaps an answer enough itself for Marcus. He knows it the moment he feels the hot tears on his skin and he hugs you tighter, large hand splayed across your back gently smoothing up and down your spine and whispering quiet little affirmations about how it’s ok as he holds you in his arms.
You don’t need to assure Marcus that you still love him, or that your feelings for Dave in any way take away from what you feel for him. He knows, because deep down inside in a place that he hasn’t allowed his head or heart to go yet, he knows has similar feelings for Dave too but that it doesn’t change a single solitary thing he feels for you.
“I know, I know” he gently soothes, slightly rocking you in his arms as your tears begin to flow freely.
He continues to hold you, letting you cry until finally he hears you sniffle a few times and he knows the tears have begun to subside before he speaks again.
“I uh… went by his office. This week”
That gets your attention. You gently push away from his chest, quickly swiping at your wet face with your hands before you lean back enough so you can look at him again.
“He wasn’t there” Marcus quickly offers, before you get too invested. “But I asked around and someone eventually told me he took a sabbatical. I guess he was due for one for a while and never took it but Monday morning he came in and put in the request and told them it was urgent so they let him take it” Marcus finishes with a shrug.
Your heart sinks even further as Marcus tells you this. You had no idea it was this bad that Dave would rather abandon his job just to avoid seeing either of you. You still don’t understand it all, what happened. You wish he would just come back and talk to you, explain himself. Even if it was to officially end things, at least you’d know where he stands.
“Wherever he is, I hope he’s OK” you sigh, snuggling further into Marcus. At least you still had each other. Your mind doesn’t want to wonder whether or not Dave has someone in his own bed to help ease the pain away. Not that he doesn’t have every right to, but it hurts your heart too much to even consider that he might.
“Yeah, me too” Marcus echoes your sentiment, bringing his lips down to press to your forehead.
You spend the rest of the day naked in bed together, making love for hours. It’s slow and sensual at first as Marcus explores every inch of your body and you of his, re-cementing your bond through every touch and kiss. You both need this. When more urgent needs arise your pacing and breathing picks up but what doesn’t change is the way you hold each other's gaze the entire time, refusing to look away even as you both reach your climaxes and your eyes beg to squeeze shut. As the day drags on and the sun begins to set outside your bedroom window you’ve lost count of your combined orgasms, only taking breaks when you need a refractory period during which one of you will patter off to the kitchen to get something easy to eat in bed along with some water and bring it back for you both to refuel your energy.
You talk more too, in those in-between moments when your bellies are full and your libidos are taking a much needed rest. Eventually you even get into hypotheticals, what you would have done had Dave not left that night, how it would change things for your relationship going forward. You both agreed you wouldn’t mind him being a more permanent fixture in your lives,if that’s what he wanted. And not just for sex. You wanted to have dinners with him, and lazy Sunday mornings in bed. You wanted him to come over after a long day at work and all cuddle up on the couch together, or for him to let the two of you take care of him in whatever capacity he needs whenever he needs it. You just wanted Dave. Both of you did.
You realize though that talking like that only makes it hurt more, knowing Dave clearly didn’t want the same thing. Maybe you and Marcus had gotten too familiar with him, too close, and that’s why he left. He never signed up to be part of your marriage and maybe what you’d thought you’d felt that last night with him was just delusion on your part. If he’d felt what you felt, how could he have just walked away?
You both ultimately resign to the fact that it’s over, whatever you had with Dave, and you mourn the loss together and make the united decision to put all your efforts into building your marriage even stronger than it had been before. The two of you need each other more than ever to fill the Dave York sized hole that was left in both your broken hearts.
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Less than a couple hundred miles away the man in question sat at a small dining room table in the overly priced and blandly decorated vacation cottage he had rented for the summer. The sound of his children laughing and playing in the front yard brought a smile to his face just as he lifted his coffee cup to taste that first morning sip. He’s thankful in this moment to his ex-wife for allowing him to take his girls on an impromptu summer getaway to the quaint little beach town just one state over in Delaware. He missed them, of course, and always wanted more time with them, but really and truly he needed an escape from his life. He knew it was only a matter of time before you or Marcus would come looking for him and knew that Marcus could easily get access into his office building with the credentials he had so he felt he had no choice. He couldn’t face either of you right now, it was too painful. He knew if he didn’t stop seeing you now, he’d never want to stop, and that’s not what either of you had signed up for. It was easier for everyone this way, he’d let you get back to your lives and he would rebuild his own into what it was before. Quiet, solitary, comfortable.
Over the two and a half months he was away he would occasionally pick up his phone and check on your social medias. Neither of you posted a lot, but when you did you always looked happy. Marcus with his arm around you at an outdoor music festival, cocktails on a patio somewhere at sunset, a picture of Marcus in a sharp suit at one of your work fundraiser events standing next to the coat check with a slightly crooked smile on his face and holding your purse for you with your cute little caption that read ‘name a more perfect husband, I’ll wait’. Marcus had ‘liked’ and replied to the post saying “anything for my perfect wife.”
And they were perfect, Dave mused with a heavy sigh, clicking off his phone and tossing it across the table before burying his face in his hands. He needed to stop this, it only made it harder instead of easier. His children were a great distraction during the day, but at nights when he was alone in bed, his mind and his dick always betrayed him and thought of the two of you. He’d wrap a fist around himself and close his eyes, picturing the way you looked up at him on that last night together when he stood broken and desperate at your doorstep. Or Marcus sinking to his knees in front of him in the shower, or the way he felt when tremors racked his body as he came with Dave’s strong arms wrapped around his wet body.
God he missed you. Both of you. And unfortunately for him his sabbatical was coming to an end and the school year would be starting for his kids again and he had to go home, face reality. It was ok though, he doubted you still thought of him or would even bother to come looking for him after all this time. He could go back to the way his life always was. Dave had always been good at compartmentalizing and he could do this, too, he thinks. Washington was plenty big for the three of you, what were the odds he’d even run into you?
He didn’t know it at the time, but he was about to find out.
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Likes/comments/reblogs mean the world to me and encourage me to keep this wild ride going so thank you in advance for your love 💜 I really appreciate it!
Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams
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mirkwoodshewolf · 2 years
Text
Best support friend; Rocket raccoon x gn reader
*Author’s note*
A double update? No get out of town! Truthfully I was gonna save posting this fic up once I got a Jack Kline request that has been sitting in my inbox collecting dust for almost a year or however long ago it was but I decided idk when I’ll post it up so I decided to just go ahead and post this fic up and hopefully I’ll do the Jack Kline one in the next week or so (it’s like 75% done).
So @itsscromp​ here is your new Rocket raccoon request.
Warnings: abuse, fluff, panic attacks, angst, protective Rocket, swearing, clueless ravagers. 
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Taglist:
@plethora-of-things​
@waddles03​
@psychosupernatural​
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​
@queen-paladin​
@queensdivas​
@gay-and-ready-to-cry​
@austynparksandpizza​
___________________________________________________________
“NONE OF THIS WOULD’VE HAPPENED IF YOU HAD JUST LET ME TAKE THE REINS FOR ONCE!!” exclaimed a voice.
“Well excuse me for not letting the man with the robotic eyes take the wheel.” Another voice snarked sarcastically.  I was passing through Knowhere trying to organize some supplies when I heard the sound of arguing.  I followed the voices and there were Ezekiel and Torath.
“Oh no what now?” I muttered as I walked towards them.  The two of them continued to argue as I spoke up. “Hey guys.”
“You have any idea what that shrimp Quill is gonna do to us the minute we tell you lost the cargo?” Torath said.
“I lost the cargo? Need I remind you that it was because of your glitchy eyes that you hit the ejector button sending the cargo out into the depths of space!” Ezekiel snapped again at Torath.
“And need I remind you that you are literally the worst pilot in the entire galaxy! I’ve seen beasts with half a brain fly advance ships better than you!”
“Okay guys can we please just….” I tried to cease the argument but the two stubborn, pig-headed men got into a squabble.  Fists were flying and swears were spat out.  “hey! Hey! Hey! Hey guys stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” suddenly I caught an elbow to the nose which not only sent me to the ground but also in a flashback.
~Flashback~
I fell to the ground as a punch came across my face and I whimpered as I spat out blood.
“Quit being weak Terran! How will you ever grow a backbone if you keep behaving like a sniveling coward!”
“But sir it—” I was kicked in the stomach this time and I let out a soft but painful grunt.
“You tell me it hurts and I swear I will make your next test more painful than the last!” I whimpered and gave him a nod as he forced me to stand back up and told me to stand my ground as he kept punching and kicking me.
~End of flashback~
My chest tightened and my heart pounded against my ears.  No I-I wasn’t there! I wasn’t there anymore! I-I have to get out of here! I stood up and took off running as fast as I could. Even when I had ran into someone I didn’t stop, all I knew was that I had to get out of there.
*Rocket’s POV*
I felt someone shove pass me but just before I could snap at them telling them to watch where they were going, I saw the familiar shape of (Y/n).  Normally they don’t just run like that unless there’s something wrong or their in a hurry. And they’re usually not in a hurry.
That’s when I heard the sound of Torath and Ezekiel screaming and rolling all over each other in a brawl.  I went over to them and called out to them.
“OI SHITS FOR BRAINS!!” but not even my voice could deter them from arguing.  I nodded nonchalantly as I took out my electro-shocker gun and activated it.  I first aimed it at Ezekiel and fired one shot before firing at Torath.  And just like when Groot, (Y/n) and I first hunted down Quill, they both exclaimed as the electro-shock balls stuck to them and they were given a good shock.  “Have I got your attention now shitbags?”
“What was that for rodent?” snapped Ezekiel.
“First of all don’t call me a rodent, not when I can give you a second dosage of shocks. Maybe this time I’ll crank it up a notch.” That got him to shut up.  “Second of all, why was (Y/n) racing out from your general direction looking upset?”
“(Y/n) was here?” Torath asked as his robotic eyes moved around.
“Yeah she was now answer my question nimrods! What happened?!”
“I didn’t even know that she had even came here.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
“How do you not notice them? They’re the only Terran besides Quill!”
“Wait, is that why my elbow hurts so much?” asked Ezekiel. My ears twitched and I slowly turned towards him, my tail twitching in anger.
“What. Was that. You said?!” I sneered lowly.
“In our squabble, I—I felt my elbow hit something but I—” I didn’t even let him finish as I launched at him and proceeded to beat the shit out of him.  Blinded by pure rage.
How dare this son of a bitch hit (Y/n)! She had to live her entire life abused and tortured just to prove that she could enhance her skin into a hard-carbon shield.  Had it not been for Groot and I, she would’ve had to spend the rest of her miserable life with that sick, cowardly bastard.
I was deep in my rage that I hadn’t even felt myself being pulled forced away from Ezekiel and Quill’s voice exclaimed.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa Rocket cool it man! Now I don’t know what the hell brought this on but you need to chill out right now!”
“This spineless rat hurt (Y/n)!” I yelled.
“I didn’t know they were even here! We didn’t know they were there!” Ezekiel tried to reason as Torath helped him up.
“With the way you two were bitching at each other you couldn’t see your own noses at the end of your faces!” I managed to wriggle my way out of Quill’s hold and without another word raced off to find (Y/n).
Being reminded of any form of abuse whether it’s done to themselves or they see if, they get triggered by it and let me tell you it gets bad.  So bad that they sometimes forget where they are or whose friend of foe.  All they see is that damned doctor.
I was asking around hoping that anyone had seen them but they all proved to be a bunch of negligent losers.  That was until Mantis had said that she felt their emotions coming from my ship.  I raced back to the Milano and soon enough in the main cockpit I found them huddled up, their chest rising up and down at an erratic pace.
I could also hear just how bad their heart was racing and could smell the panicked sweat from not only their brow but also their clammy hands. I walked towards them but didn’t speak, at this point they wouldn’t be able to hear me.  But there was one way to pull them out of this…..and Quill or Drax better not be spying on me otherwise I’ll blast them halfway across the quadrant.
I sat as close as I could beside them and first gave their bicep a gentle and affectionate nuzzle.  I then placed my paw onto their forearm and using my claws I very gently stroked down the skin of their forearm.  Then going back up to the same place where I started before going back down again.
“C’mon (N/n). Come back to me. You can do this.” I muttered before their breathing slowed and they seemed to be coming back down to reality.
*My POV*
It had been forever since I had a panic attack.  If I didn’t know what they were, I swear I thought I was dying.  My vision was so blurry, I couldn’t even see my own hand in front of my face.  There was this high-pitch ringing that was constantly piercing my ears and my body felt paralyzed after I had collapsed into god knows where.
That’s when I felt something furry against my arm.  I also felt sharp nails (or claws) gently stroke down my arm.  They didn’t hurt but they did send tingles up from my arm to my spine.  Slowly the claws kept stroking down my forearm until I lifted it up and found my hand being placed on something soft.
I opened my eyes and after blinking away some of the tears as well as the haze that my vision was making, it began to focus and there I saw Rocket sitting right beside me.  His ears slightly bent backward as his eyes were looking at me assuringly and I also saw that my hand was now resting just on top of his head.
He gave me a soft nod and allowed me to stroke through his fur (knowing that it helped calm me down in the past).  After petting his head for a few minutes, I was able to unfold my legs from my chest so that they now were fully extended in front of me and I felt the tingling sensation of them falling asleep.
Rocket then rested his upperbody on top of my right thigh and allowed me to continue stroking his fur until I felt a vibration on my thigh. I looked down and as I stroked down Rocket’s neck, I could feel him purring, like actually purring.  I didn’t even know he could purr (kinda made me think back to the cats back on Earth).
“I….didn’t know you could purr like a cat.”
“This is a once in a lifetime thing. You speak of this to anyone, especially that stupid mutt Cosmo, I’ll rip your head off.”
“Thank you Rocket. This……means a lot.”
“Been a long time since you had one, figured you’d need something to help calm you down.” Rocket can be gruff and hard on the outside but when he wants to, if you look deep, deep, deep, deep down inside, you’ll find that he’s just a sweet, caring, intuitive creature who will do anything to help you out.
Even if it’s purring like a cat and having someone pet you constantly until they feel centered again.  But I wouldn’t have my best friend any other way.
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hii congrats on 5k!! i love your writing ! if you’re still celebrating could i request a carmy blurb where maybe you’re syd’s besite and carmy has this biggggest crush on you (im talking this mf is Yearning) and she gets on him sooo hard about it like teasing him and reader and him end up together ? TIA <3
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Not So Secret.
carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings - cursing.
written for my 5k celebration- post here, masterlist here, inbox here.
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“You’re gonna stare a hole through her fuckin’ head.”
“Shut up.”
Richie laughs, following Carmens eyeline to where it’s fixed on you.
You’re stood in the restaurant with Sydney, both of you giggling at something she’s showing you on her phone. When you look up, you smile at Carmy, all soft and sweet and like butter wouldn’t melt. He almost melts, a puddle of yearning on the kitchen floor.
Sugar appears next to the two of you, holding out a piece of paper.
“This is a really rough draft of what we kind of want them to look like. Obviously you have full control, but this is kind of the vibe?”
When Carmen mentioned wanting a more personal touch on the menus, Sydney quickly offered your services. You’re the most artistic person she knows, gifted with naturally gorgeous handwriting that almost looks like calligraphy. Plus, she knows how much everyone at The Bear likes you, having been a part of their transformation. It’s a win - win.
“Yeah, I get you. So you want the title words like Dessert in more of a cursive, and then the actual dishes and descriptions in a typeface?”
“Yes! Do your thing. We trust you.”
She gives you a side hug, careful not to hit you with her bump.
“I’m gonna need some nice paper, and probably a new calligraphy pen so I can start from scratch. I’m gonna head to the craft store, and I’ll be back.”
“Carmy will go with you!”
Richie shouts it from the doorway, where he’s been not so subtly watching the conversation. Carmy blushes, clearly caught off guard.
“He needs to go to the craft store too, right Cousin? Good. Go. Bye!”
Carmy’s practically being pushed out the door, uncomfortable and flustered. You smile reassuringly, grabbing your bag and walking over to your car.
“You’re okay with me driving?”
“Course. Shouldn’t I be?”
You laugh, and he can’t help but grin, the sound settling nicely into his ribcage to warm him up.
“I’m a good driver, I promise. Despite what Sydney might say.”
He looks worried but gets in anyway, ever trusting you and anything you do.
He can’t help but sneak glances at you as you drive. You’re completely focused on the road in front, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Carmy feels heat bloom across his chest at the action, wishing he could reach out and release it for you before you draw blood.
A text chimes through the air, startling you both. You press the button on your steering wheel so your car can read the message out loud.
From Sydney: Carmy. Tell her immediately or I’ll lock you in the walk in freezer. Sick of you acting like a lovesick puppy. This is your chance. Don’t blow it, asshole. We’re all tired.
Both of you freeze, your hands tightening on the wheel. Carmy wants to throw himself out of the moving car, but decides against it at the last minute.
You pull the car into the craft store parking lot, choosing a space and yanking the handbrake on. You turn to him, looking at him for the first time since the bombshell.
He’s blushed all over, chest heaving and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You almost want to reach out and release it for him, before he draws blood.
“Carmy.”
“I think, uh, yeah, I just - that was clearly sent to the wrong person. Not meant for you.”
You laugh, suddenly, and it spooks Carmy so much that he jumps out of his skin.
“Yeah, Carm. That I figured.”
He laughs with you then, unsure and nervous. You reach out and place a hand on his knee, trying to calm him down. It just makes his heart lurch.
“What’s Syd talking about? Tell me what?”
He looks down at his lap, hands knotted together.
“I think you know.”
“Wanna hear you say it,” you whisper.
He finds the courage to meet your gaze, taking a deep breath.
“I like you. So much. I can’t stop talking about you to anyone and everyone that’ll listen - to the point that everyone at The Bear gives me so much shit for it. Sydney won’t get off my back, either. She says I’m ‘yearning’.”
You chuckle, rubbing patterns into the material of his jeans with your thumb.
“They’ve all made bets,” he continues, “about if I’ll ever tell you or not.”
“Who bet on you? And who against?”
“Syd and Richie against me. Marcus too. Tina and Sugar are on my side. Not sure why.”
“Wanna make Tina and Sugar some money?”
He quirks a brow questioningly, eyes going wide when you lean over the centre console and plant your hands on either side of his face. You’re so close to him that your breaths tangle together, one set of lungs working overtime.
“Kiss me, Carm.”
He doesn’t think twice, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His hands find your back, tugging you into him as much as the limited space allows.
You whine when he bites at your lip gently, and he has to pull away to take a steadying breath before he passes out.
“You should get your eyes checked.”
He tries to process for a moment.
“Huh?”
“You must be blind if you can’t see how much I like you, Carm. How much I’ve always liked you.”
He grins at you, bright and white, and you shake your head before leaning in to kiss him again.
When you don’t make it back into the restaurant that day, everyone has never been happier to not see the both you.
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leewritestoomuch · 7 months
Text
Gen x Personal Assistant! Reader
Warning: NSFW, Grinding, Handjob
Request: Could I request a nsfw gen x reader who was his personal assistant? Could be pre or post petrification.
GN! Reader
As soon as the two of you step off stage, he’s looking at you. The look in his eyes is hard to read. You figure maybe he was trying to ask for something, but then again, it’s not like Gen to just not speak. He’s not shy. So, the two of you make prolonged eye contact.
The car ride back to the hotel was filled with an awkward silence. It was odd for him not to speak, and you didn’t notice anything go wrong during the show. So maybe he’s just tired?
Would a tired man invite you into his hotel room? You convince yourself that he, in fact, would. And you hold this delusional belief to your chest out of fear any other assumption would be wrong, up until he stands beside you. Then he smiles, and asks softly to kiss you. And though you don’t know where it came from, you give him permission with a gentle nod of your head.
It’s not like there hasn’t been tension between the two of you. The public thinks the two of you are secretly dating anyways. And the paparazzi takes photos of you two like they caught you two red-handed. Despite your title as assistant, many people have claimed that you were actually his partner, the title was a cover up for that. An excuse for you to be on stage with him.
Despite you minoring in Psychology in school, because that didn’t matter to these people.
And they don’t matter to you, you realize as his lips meet yours. You didn’t fully realize yet that you have been waiting for this moment for months. It’s never been a clear, purposeful thought, but you’ve long stared at his lips, or him at all, when you spaced out. Really, the mentalist has had your attention, rather you realized it or not.
Another thing you realize, is that he is not taking things slow. His tongue pokes at your lips. At this point, it seemed forward, but welcomed. So you part your lips, and meet his tongue in the middle with yours.
Gen’s hand caresses your face, thumb stroking just below your chin, his arm goes around your waist. And he walks you backwards until your knees hit the bed in the middle of the hotel room. You let yourself fall back against then bed, and he looks at you for a moment, as if to ask if it’s okay before he climbs on top of you.
He pins you down to the bed as his lips trail from your lips, then your jaw, to your neck. He kiss the shell of your ear, then behind your ear, nibbling on the skin there. After he leaves a small bite mark, he licks over it a few times before moving on to a new spot. A few more repeats off this before he gets to your collarbone.
His hands make their way under your shirt, running along your bare skin. For a while, they don’t dare to touch your chest. His hands hold your waist until your shirt, rubbing smalls circles into the skin while he marks up your collarbone.
The air suddenly feels hotter, like a tropical rain forest popped up around you two. Your shared body heat beginning to make you desperate to get your clothes off. Or maybe it wasn’t the heat that made you want to strip.
His knee finds its way between your legs, putting pressure against your crotch. He grinds that knee down a little bit, causing you to squirm. And by now, your reactions spur him on to grope your chest. His lips make their way back up to yours, kissing you with a fever.
You tug his shirt over his head, and he smirks before pulling yours off too. Then he moves his knee, grinding his own hips against yours instead, causing both of your breathing to pick up. Your mind is hazy now, the only thing you can think about is him already, and how good his body feels against yours.
He whimpers over how tight his pants are, pulling his belt off desperately, then the button of his pants, then he pulls the pants off all together. And quickly you reach out, hands finding the waist band of his boxers, looking to him for permission. When he nods, you pull them down, letting him kick them off somewhere neither of you pay any mind to.
You spit on your hand before taking his length into your hand. You keep eye contact with him until he closes his eyes as you speed up your pace ever so slightly. Your hand, jerking him off, moving up and down with the perfect amount of pressure. His legs are shaking a little to hold himself up, and he’s gripping the sheets. He lets out shaky breathes, groans, and a few whimpers.
Your hand speeds up, so does his breathing and noises. And soon he cries.
“Please.. fuck… I’m gonna cum.” He moans, before seconds later releasing onto your hand, arm, and a bit of your chest.
Your lips smash back together, and it dawns on both of you, your relationship has changed forever.
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hp-hcs · 11 months
Note
IM SO GAY FOR THEO ITS INSANE, Theodore Nott x ftm Reader PLEAAASE. Your fics got my kicking my legs and twirling my hair fr. Everytime i see you update I get so EXCITED
you are so fuckin sweet cmere lemme mwah 😚💋
this one is not particularly good nor coherent, cause it’s really late and i have no idea how my eyes are still open ngl but this request was just SO GOOD i couldn’t wait till tomorrow xx
scars — roommate! theodore nott x ftm! post top surgery! reader
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how is this man allowed to exist istg
Warnings: reader has had top surgery, the author has not (yet); may be inaccurate idfk
requests r open mfs. be like this rad anon. request.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You turned off the water, stepping out of the shower. After drying off, you realized you’d made a mistake.
You’d forgotten a shirt.
Not that big a deal, right? Wrong.
Two large scars cut their way across your chest. A source of pride for you, but one that still made you a bit self conscious nonetheless.
You could hear your roommate, Theodore, banging around just outside the door. You started to mentally panic.
Theodore didn’t know you were transgender. You’re fucked.
You cursed under your breath, buttoning up your pants and running a hand through your hair as you considered your options.
You could wrap your towel around your chest? No, that’s even more obvious.
You could ask him to hand you a shirt? But then he’d want to know why.
You could just hide in the bathroom until he goes away? That’s pathetic, no.
Cursing whatever higher power that gave you the wrong fucking body to begin with, you decided on your last real option:
4. Just act confident.
That was the stupidest option yet.
You chewed your lip, sighing before unlocking the bathroom door and stepping out into your dorm room.
Maybe he just won’t notice?
“Hey, Y/N, have you seen m- oh.”
Nevermind. You’re fucked.
Theodore stared at you. He was half dressed himself, standing there in only his plaid pajama bottoms. A quick spike of envy hit as you imagined what it would be like to have a body like his, one that you could just walk around shirtless in like it was no big deal.
It didn’t help that your roommate was also hot as hell.
Theodore’s eyes flicked from your face to your chest, then back up to your face. His mouth hung open slightly as he studied the large scars.
“U-uh…m-my sweater. Have you seen it?” He awkwardly recovered.
“On your desk,” you supplied, passing by him and picking your shirt up off of your bed where you must’ve left it.
He didn’t make any move towards his desk, still just standing still. “Er…Y/N…?”
You pulled your shirt on and started doing up the buttons. “Yeah?”
“What’s- what’re those from? Your scars?”
His hand suddenly came to rest lightly on your shoulder, startling you. As you turned to look at him, he snatched his hand back. Although you looked deep into his eyes, you saw no judgement, only curiosity.
“Top surgery.”
His hands, seemingly of their own volition, moved up to clasp over each of yours, effectively stopping you from buttoning your shirt up further. He slowly pulled your hands away from the row of buttons, letting go of your hands once they reached your sides, then unbuttoning the few buttons you’d managed to get done.
Fuck, that’s hot. You’re fucked.
Your shirt hung open, and he took the opportunity to push it off your shoulders. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you were convinced that you must’ve you stopped breathing minutes ago when he paused, his fingers hovering over one of your scars.
“Can I?” He whispered.
You nodded, unable to say anything. He rested his hands on either side of your ribcage, smoothing his thumbs over the ends of the scars.
You shivered, standing still so that he could continue. He held onto you like you were a prized treasure; something to be revered.
“Fucking gorgeous, Y/N,” he mumbled, seemingly more to himself than anything. “Prettiest boy in this whole damn school.”
Mouth hanging open in shock, you thought nothing of it before you were leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Pulling away, your cheeks heated up. Theodore’s eyes were blown wide, and his thumbs continued their motion across your ribs. He leaned forward himself and kissed you properly.
His hands left your torso, instead coming up to cup your face. He kissed you with slow, promising passion, crowding into your space and practically enveloping you in himself.
You eventually pulled away to gasp for air, and he chased after your mouth with his own.
His cheeks were flushed, his hair a mess from where you’d been running your fingers through it, his lips swollen and red.
He looks absolutely gorgeous.
Yep. You’re fucked.
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syddsatyrn · 2 years
Text
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☆Pairing: - Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
☆Warnings: Fluff, sexual themes, Eddie takes nudes for the reader, smoking, Characters are all 18+
Minors DNI, scram!
☆Words: 1.8k
☆Summary: Eddie doesn't have a lot of money, but he’s determined to get you a Christmas present. He gets creative with a polaroid camera and comes up with a more "personalized" gift. (You're gonna want to scroll to the bottom lol, trust me)
☆Notes: This fic is apart of a holiday prompt challenge @hellfiremunsonn and I are doing for our Christmas event. You can find that post Here. We will be doing holiday prompts and request all month long so come join us!
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ 
Eddie might not be the smartest, the strongest or the most well behaved person on this planet. But one trait he did possess was determination. Eddie had been saving up, selling extra weed, pinching every penny from his shows. But he just still didn't quite have enough to pay for all the things he wanted to get you. You deserve only the very best after all. It's the middle of December, he doesn't have very much time left to curate the perfect Christmas gift. Okay, maybe he did procrastinate a little. 
Eddie sits crisscross on his bed, sorting coins and loose paper bills. When he realizes he only has about 55 dollars, he sighs. Maybe Uncle Wayne was right about getting a real job. That wasn't going to stop him though. This is actually a rather important Christmas. In January, your parents want to take you to Italy as a graduation gift. Now, don’t get it wrong, he was happy for you . But he's never been away from you for this long and it worries him.
What if she meets some hot Italian guy with money and class? You come from a pretty wealthy family, it’s never been a problem before, but Eddie can help but feel a little inadequate in comparison to what he imagines you should go for. He taps his chin, trying to turn the wheels in his brain. “C’mon, Eddie, think…”
Eddie’s mind wandered for a bit but his eyes suddenly focused on your polaroid camera hanging off his bedroom door handle. You had left it here and Almost immediately the thought popped into his head. He gets up and grabs the camera strap, trying to remember how this thing works. He inspects it carefully, noticing the timer on the lens barrel, “Seems easy enough…”
Eddie has never done this before for girls he’s dated in the past. He’s thought about it, but he didn't feel like he could be spontaneous or confident enough. Eddie trusts you far more than you know, and wants to show you that he does. He feels completely safe with you and knows you love him no matter what.
He places the camera on top of his amp and removes his shirt, tossing it somewhere. He sets the timer and sits on his bed, leaning forward, elbow on his knees, and an evil look in his eye. His long brown curls cascade around his face. The camera flashes and makes a whirring noise then the polaroid slowly prints. Eddie takes it between his fingers and shakes it gently. After some waiting, the picture was clear enough to see.
He was initially rather surprised it came out looking exactly how he wanted. With heightened confidence, he grabs the camera and hops onto the bed. Eddie leaned against the wall and angled the camera low. Another flash and another polaroid but this one featured his waistline in a pair of low hanging sweatpants. Examining his work, he’s kind of proud of himself, they actually look really good.
Eddie grabs an envelope from his desk and places the photos inside for safe keeping. He pulls a cigarette from the pack near his bedside table and lights it. He takes a second to think, staring at the camera on his bed, maybe he should take a couple more?
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ 
Loud chimes from the alarm clock fill the room, shaking Eddie from his sleep. He scrambled to hit the button on the top to silence it. He lets out a weary sigh and pulls a cigarette from the pack on his nightstand. He lights it and saunters over to his bedroom window, it has stopped snowing, but a blanket of white coated the trailer park and it didn't look like it was going away anytime soon.
It's Christmas day, he's been looking forward to giving you this gift for over a week now and the suspense is killing him. Eddie opens his bedroom door, figuring now is a good time to make coffee. But to his surprise, sitting in his doorway is a red paper bag with a note attached to it.
“Nephew, I know we agreed not to get presents this year but I couldn't pass this up. I went to town to help some folks get their cars unstuck. Be back before dinner.”
Merry Christmas, Ed
- Uncle Wayne
He peers into the bag and pulls out a pair of chunky black boots. Great timing considering he has to leave the house in this weather. Uncle Wayne really came through today. He makes a mental note to thank him later tonight. Eddie proceeds with his normal routine, a cup of coffee with a joint and then he gets dressed. He layers up with a long sleeve shirt under a black hoodie. Eddie added a red flannel on top of that, then his leather jacket. The boots Wayne gifted him are extremely comfortable. His other pair are completely tattered and the tread is worn down to nothing.
Eddie grabs a large dark blue bag out of his closet. He goes over his mental check-list before heading out the door. Keys, wallet, smokes, lighter, present. When he opened the door a rush of cold air cut through him like a knife. He shuts the door and locks it behind, the snow crunches under his feet as he makes his way down the front steps and to his van. She started right up and Eddie breathed a sigh of relief.
You didn't live far from him, about a 15 minute drive. The roads had been plowed so the operation doesn't seem so treacherous. Eddie popped an Iron maiden tape into his vans cassette player, music always helps him concentrate. He parks down the road a little and trudges his way through the snow and up your driveway, gift in hand.
He took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell to your family home. He could hear all sorts of clamor behind the door. Children laughing and playing, conversations, and classical music meld together. Then you open the door, a bright smile on your face, the same smile that melts Eddie’s cold heart every time.
“Hey! Merry Christmas!” You say as you throw your arms around his neck. Eddie uses his free arm to pull you closer, you look down at the black paper bag then meet his gaze. “What do you have here, handsome?” Your voice is smooth and sweet, it sends a chill up his spine.
“Just a little something for the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He peppers your face with kisses and you pull him inside by the collar of his jacket. Immediately after that, your mom walks around the corner and visibly gets excited.
“Eddie! I’m so glad you made it! Are you hungry?” She asks, always offering him food every time he visits.
“Yes ma’am, of course I am. It’s always nice to see you again.”
“Oh you too, sugar.” She notices the bag, “Awe! How sweet! Did you bring that for y/n?”
“Should I open it now?” You laugh at your mom’s usually nosy antics.
“No! No…uhh it's very personal.” Eddie falters, attempting to save face.
“Okay, whatever you say. We can go to my room.” You giggle at how worked up he is, the curiosity is killing you, what could be so “personal” in this mystery bag. You take Eddie's hand and lead him upstairs, once you pass the threshold of your bedroom, Eddie shuts the door behind him.
“Oooo so secretive.” You giggle and Eddie smiles, his eyes however tell you that he's a little nervous. Eddie hands you the bag and you sit on the bed. The first thing you pull out is an envelope, but Eddie tells you to open that last. The second thing you grab is a hoodie, you unfold it and immediately recognize the texture. It’s the Metallica hoodie you steal from him every time you come over.
“It's yours now.” He says with that signature smirk you still can't get enough of.
“Eddie I–”
“Nope. I will not be taking any criticism at this time.” He retorts and crosses his arms. Next, you pull out a small, rectangular black box with a red ribbon. You open it and gasp softly and stare in awe at the beautiful stainless steel chain with a small heart shaped lock pendant.
“Oh my god, Eddie, this is so pretty. ” You turn your back to him and motion for Eddie to help you put it on.
“Only the best for my girl.” He says proudly, grabbing both ends of the chain and clasping them together. You push all your hair to the side and reposition the pendant. You look at him for approval but all he can do is smile. His nervous thoughts about not being able to spend more on you faded the more he saw how much you love it. “Okay, okay. Now you can open the envelope.”
“Saving the best for last?” You tease as you carefully tear open the front of the envelope.
“Maybe.” Eddie can't stop smiling, but there is a slight red tint spreading across his face as he watches you open it.
Upon looking inside, you see a piece of paper, most likely another one of his hand written love letters you adore so much. But there are about 5 polaroids in there. You take them out and carefully examine the first one, you can feel your face growing warm. You flip through each one very quickly and immediately hide your face in your sweater sleeves.
“EDDIE! Oh my god!” You’re absolutely shocked. This was definitely a surprise to you. Your face felt like it was on fire. Why does he have to be so hot at unexpectedly, Eddie always seems to keep you on your toes.
He starts cackling and saunters over to you and cups your cheek. “I didn't want you to forget what you’re leaving behind when you visit Italy.”
“A very good reminder indeed.” You giggle and lace your fingers with his other hand, “I couldn't forget you even if I tried.” Eddie presses his lips to yours, starting off slowly, you hook your index finger around the collar of his hoodie and pull him just a little closer. Eddie carefully crawls on top of you while his lips travel across your jaw, pinning you to the bed.
“Do you wanna know what I got you for Christmas?” You coo in his ear as you card your fingers through his long brown locks and tuck some of his hair behind his ear.
“Hmm..?"
“ I can't tell you because it's personal.” You mock his earlier statement and he chuckles under his breath followed by a huff.
“But I could show you.”
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ 
“I wanted to do something different, make it so you can’t get me out of your head, you know? These are FOR YOU only. Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Enjoy your Vacation, you deserve it.”
-Love,
Eddie ♥️
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Disclaimer: (Not my photo, I shopped this with photos from Pinterest)
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