#oh man my fireflies fic is so close to completion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jobean12-blog · 10 months

Text

Collide

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader (sorta enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 2,283

Summary: You and Javi have been working together for a while and have a volatile relationship...until something finally gives.

Author's Note: Since I can't seem to get his man off my mind here's my second Javi fic. He's so sexy I can barely manage. Thank you to my lovely friends @lizette50 and @tripletstephaniescp for always feeding my Pedro obsession so well! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics thank you!🥰

Warnings: some tension, sassiness, flirting, but lots of softness too, Javi is super sexy because duh

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

When the phone rings for the fourth time you stomp your heels on the ground and push back from your desk with an exasperated huff.

“What the hell is he…?” you mutter as you look down at the screen and see Steve’s number. Again.

You push the door to Javi’s office open without a knock and fold your arms across your chest.

“Want to answer the phone some time today?”

Javi looks up from the open drawer of his filing cabinet and narrows his eyes.

“I’m busy.”

When he dismisses you with the drop of his head, refocusing on his papers, you growl out a curse.

“Don’t you dare…”

Your threat is cut off when the phone in his office rings. He looks up and gives you a warning glare, daring you to answer it.

You throw him a fake saccharine smile and start to turn around, only to spin back toward his desk and rush for the phone when he’s no longer looking.

His low “fuck,” is all your hear before you grab the receiver and pick up with a friendly, “hello, this is the office of Javier Pena, how many I help you.”

Javi crowds you against his desk, his hard chest pressed to yours and his breath warm against your cheek as he exhales.

You swallow hard but square your shoulders and focus on the call.

“Oh sure Steve, he’s right here…mm hmm.”

You keep your eyes on his, refusing to back down even as your own body betrays you and you lean closer.

Javi rests his hands along the edge of the desk on either side of you and dips his head until his lips brush the shell of your ear, his whisper deep and low. “I said I was busy.”

Thankful that he can’t see your face you drag your teeth over your bottom lip before gathering yourself again to chirp into the phone, “oh he’s not busy at all, one second.”

You cover the mouthpiece and smile. “It’s Steve. He’s been trying to reach you all afternoon.” Your tone is dripping with fake sugariness.

Javi just stares, his dark eyes sweeping over your face until they land on your lips and linger.

He scoffs and wraps his hand around the handset, covering yours with his calloused but warm skin.

“What?” he says into the phone as he keeps you trapped against the desk.

You pull your hand free of the phone and flatten your palms against his chest with a push.

He doesn’t budge, his gaze still locked on yours.

“Move,” you grit out under your breath and give him another shove.

He takes a slow step backward, just enough to let you brush past him and as you do your scent fills the air and he inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering closed.

Even as you walk out of his office you feel the persistent heat of him still close and your traitorous body trembles.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“What was that?” Steve asks through the phone.

“What…nothing. Fuck.”

Steve sighs on the other end and Javi pinches the bridge of his nose.

“What do you want Steve?”

“Man she really riles you up huh?” Steve teases.

“Who…what?” Javi stammers, now rubbing his temple. “Just tell me why you called four times.”

You’re typing something up when the door to Javi’s office opens with a slam. He steps out with his tie hanging haphazardly around his neck and his jacket thrown over one shoulder.

“I’ll be gone for the rest of the day,” he says indifferently as he walks by. “You can leave all my messages on the desk.

“You’re tie is completely crooked,” you spit back at him.

He stops a few feet from you and looks down and you take the opportunity to get a good look at his ass. It makes you angry that he’s so attractive and that you’re so attracted to him and when he turns your way you have a scowl on your face.

“Didn’t know that was such a problem for you,” he says as he drops his jacket on a nearby desk chair and starts to fiddle with his tie.

You watch as he struggles with the material and clearly grows more frustrated with each passing second.

With a roll of your eyes you stand and step into his space, smacking away his hands until he drops them with a sigh.

“Can’t answer the phone…” you start, “can’t even tie your own tie…what are you going to have me do next Javi?”

As you’re rattling off his shortcomings your fingers are deftly working the fabric until it’s perfectly secure around his neck.

Your last question has him suck in an audible breath and when you meet his eyes they are intense with unspoken promise.

You tighten his tie with an abrupt push and then release him. You barely catch his “thanks” as he practically runs out of the building.

After packing up your things and heading to your car you decide to take a detour before going home. It’s been a long day and a bite to eat and maybe a drink at the nearby bar will do you some good.

It’s still early enough that when you walk into the dimly lit space there are a lot of open stools at the bar. You park yourself at the far end check out the daily specials.

It isn’t until you’re about to take the first sip of your drink that you feel the weight of his gaze. You make a subtle turn and meet the familiar dark brown eyes of Javi.

He blatantly stares, his lips hovering just above the rim of the glass of amber liquid dangling from his hand.

Your eyes shift to Steve who gives you a head tilt and a smile. You return it before looking back at Javi.

You had no idea they’d be here and they’re most likely working a case so rather than expose them or yourself you turn your attention back to the bar.

The feel of his eyes endures and even though you can’t see him you can still feel the way his body pressed against you as he held you by his desk. The way he smelled. The feel of his skin on yours. It sends a shiver down your spine even as your body heats up.

A group of young men enter the bar in a cacophony of loud voices and scuffling feet. They find a space in the middle of the bar and you study them out of the corner of your eye.

It doesn’t take long for one of them to notice you and send you a flirty smile. You quickly turn away, uninterested.

Before your food comes out you decide to take a bathroom break and slide off the stool and move toward the darkened hallway.

The same guy from before catches your eye and blatantly watches as you walk by, making some inaudible comment to his friend.

You quickly glance at Javi to see his jaw set tightly and his knuckles white as he grips his glass, his own eyes following your every move.

As you disappear around the corner you don’t even hear the footsteps and when you’re whirled around and backed into the wall you almost let out a scream of terror but a familiar hand covers your mouth.

When your eyes meet his you deflate and grab his wrist, pulling his hand away.

“Javi,” you whisper shout, your eyes flashing angrily. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“You need to leave,” he says.

Stealing yourself you stand up straighter and square your shoulders.

“No. I don’t. I don’t have to do anything,” you argue.

“Angel,” Javi pleads, the term of endearment melting your fury instantly. “Please.”

“I was about to have my dinner,” you explain weakly. “Why don’t you want me here.”

Your eyes fall to the ground.

You know why but you want to hear him say it. You want him to tell you it’s because you’re not safe and he wants to protect you.

His fingers touch the soft skin of your jaw, guiding your chin up and your eyes back to his. The calloused pad of his thumb brushes back and forth as his mouth opens to speak.

But footsteps along the creaky floor alert you that someone’s coming and Javi’s body tenses, his eyes filling with worry for a split second before he kisses you.

It isn’t a soft and sweet kiss. No more gentle caresses, no slow tasting. He kisses you like he’s done it a hundred times before and you’re his to kiss.

Your hands reflectively lift to his chest, and for a second he thinks you might push him away, but instead, your hands curl around his tie and you pull him closer, holding him in place.

His head angles to taste more of you, needing more, and he nips your bottom lip when you don’t give in. Your surprised gasp is all the advantage he needs to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

You melt for him, meeting his intensity without restraint. He pushes you harder against the unyielding wall and your arms slide up and around his neck. He rocks his hips and you moan into his mouth.

He swallows the sound, desperate to hear it again and again.

“Ahem,” a too-close voice says.

Steve.

You startle and Javi jumps, your mouth leaving his as you follow the sound.

“Sorry to break up the party,” Steve smirks. “But we need to move.”

“How long were you standing there watching,” Jave grits out, giving Steve a thunderous glare.

Steve’s hands lift in surrender. “I just got here. Those first footsteps you heard were from one of the targets. Looked like they were going to follow her back here but you beat him to it. Thankfully. Good cover too.”

At Steve’s last added words your face heats and you press your fingers to your swollen and tingling lips.

Javi nods. A simple agreement and dismissal. Steve nods back at Javi then smiles warmly at you before he turns on his heels and heads back.

“You need to leave,” Javi says again, his hand now resting along the wall by the side of your head.

“That’s it? I’m just supposed to leave?” you counter, unable to quell your sassiness when it comes to him.

He sighs dramatically. “Angel…you heard Steve. Just go. He’ll will make sure you get to your car safely.”

You study his face, tracing his features with your eyes and unable to resist the feel of his skin even in your disappointment at his obvious disregard. You lean in and press your lips to the corner of his mouth, the brush of his mustache making you tingle all over.

With that you slip from his hold, keeping your head high as you walk away and go to grab your things, thankful when Steve subtly acknowledges you and makes sure you get safely to your car.

The next morning Javi doesn’t leave his office at all and you sit just outside and stew, replaying every moment of the kiss. When lunch time comes and goes you can’t take it anymore and knock hard on his door.

“Yeah,” you hear from the other side before you push it open and find him seated at his desk, his forehead creased in thought.

“You missed lunch,” you state.

He grunts in acknowledgment and goes back to his papers.

Your hands land on your hips and you step into his office, slamming the door shut.

“So that’s it?”

“What?” he answers.

“You’re just going to pretend like it didn’t happen?”

“Like what didn’t happen?” he shoots back.

“Don’t you dare!” you shout and point a finger at him. “Was it really all just a cover?”

He stands with such force that his chair flies backward and hits the wall with a thud.

Instead of answering he let’s out a frustrated grunt and runs a hand through his already mussed hair.

Somehow it looks better than before and you inwardly curse him out for being so sexy.

“What?” he says as you continue to stare.

You inhale sharply, holding his gaze while you hold your breath.

With unsteady steps you move forward until your close enough to smell him.

“I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that kiss didn’t mean anything to you.”

At your challenging words he clamps his mouth shut. But his eyes say everything and before the moment is gone you reach up and trace your fingers over the fresh cut above his eyebrow.

The feeling of your fingers on his skin makes him exhale softly.

“It’s fine,” he whispers.

“It looks like it hurts. What happened last night?”

“Nothing for you to worry about angel.”

“I’m sorry if I made any trouble for you…”

Your voice trails off, and you look up at him with questioning eyes. Wordlessly you slide your fingertips down the line of his jaw and he leans into your touch.

He turns into your hand and presses a gentle kiss to your palm.

Your name falls from his lips, more of a sound than a word, a rough growl deep in his throat. He looks as if he wants to say more but with one swift movement he has you pressed against the edge of his desk, caging you in with his arms and either side.

You gasp and he captures the sound with a kiss. And not just any kiss. A kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. A kiss that rivals the one from last night. Fiery. Desperate. And very, very real.

@lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #narcos #javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x y/n #pedro pascal characters #enemies to lovers

486 notes · View notes

bloodywickedvamp · 2 years

Text

Two's Company - What The Hell Is Six?

Poly!Lost Boys x GN Reader x Michael

Series Masterlist

Summary: Reader is dating Michael Emerson and they're fed up with his uncharacteristic behavior towards his family and them since moving to Santa Carla. They decided to finally confront Michael on the boardwalk with an audience of 4 in attendance.

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: angst, heated argument (?) more so the reader just yelling, maybe a little gaslighting if you look hard, cursing

Hi! This is my first fic so any notes or critiques on how I can improve my writing or any notes at all are greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy! This may or may not turn into a multi-part fic. I have a bigger idea for it but we'll see if i have it in me to do it lol. Also, let me know if I missed any warnings and i'll be sure to add them.

Dividers: @saradika & @firefly-graphics

Michael Fucking Emerson...

The man I love more than anything has become someone I don't even want to know.

After moving to Santa Carla from Phoenix he changed so drastically I still can't seem to wrap my head around it. We've been together for a few years now and I became so close to his mom and brother that it felt natural to accept when he offered for me to come with them and stay for the summer once the time came for the move.

After his first few nights on the boardwalk is when I noticed the shift. He went off on his own as I was hanging with Sam or Lucy and wouldn't come home till the very early hours of the morning. He was rude and snippy to the questioning from his mom. Harsh and mean to Sam, more so than the typical sibling bickering and teasing that they engaged in. He'd keep his distance from me, like he could barely stand to be around me at all and completely blow me off any time I tried to talk or spend time together. It's only gotten worse and I'm at my wits end with it.

After having a tearful heart to heart with Lucy about his 180 in behavior I decided to take matters into my own hands whether he likes it or not.

I start my journey to the place that I've begun to despise, associating it with the 'new Michael'.

Finally, I spot my elusive brunette exactly where I thought he'd be, on the boardwalk but to my surprise he's also surrounded by a group of intimidating looking bikers. Two rowdy blondes, one with an impressively long curly haired mullet and an eye catching custom patchwork jacket adorned his somewhat smaller, muscular stature. The other untamed boy, with wild hair to match and a dark fishnet top that leaves almost nothing to the imagination, is nearly bouncing around the others with glee at whatever they're discussing. Next I notice a tall, dark, and handsome brunette to their right who takes the cake at revealing outfits with the lack of shirt and wide open leather jacket. With the slightest of smiles he's leaning against presumably his own motorcycle observing the rest of his group and the crowd at large. Lastly, to the right of the brunette and the left of Michael, there's a bleach blonde mullet you couldn't miss for miles a top the most intimidating looking one, wearing a too-stuffy seeming trench coat for this Santa Carla summer heat.

In a normal circumstance I would have slight hesitation to approach the group alone so boldly, as I find myself doing now, but I couldn't care less who's around. At this moment the only person to be feared on the boardwalk is me. I'm on mission for some answers and god help the poor soul who fucks with me right now.

As I take my final few strides towards my boyfriend they all notice me. The four unknown boys go quiet as they take me in curiously, a determined walk, pissed off expression, heavy breathing, and clenched fists.

"Michael fucking Emerson!" I erupted, jabbing my finger in his chest, coming face to face with the wide eyed boy.

"Hey baby-" He tried cautiously.

"Oh good you actually do remember you have a partner"

"Look I know you're upset and rightfully so but-"

I hold my hand up to silence whatever bullshit was about to spill from his mouth. "No no no, I'm still talking and you're listening." He nods his head slowly, afraid to set me off even more, if that's possible. I hear rather than see snickers to my right from the others.

"I don't know what's been going on with you and why you've been treating everyone in your life like shit but I'm sick and tired of it and I want answers. Now." The words spill heatedly from my lips as my anger intensifies from the inevitable release pent up over the past few weeks. Michaels mouth opens whether in shock or to interject, I don't know but I cut him off before I can find out.

"It's one thing the way you've been treating me - and trust me we'll get to that" I accentuate with a pointed finger in the air and back down after. "but it's a whole other thing with Lucy and Sam. You barely talk to or see Sam anymore and he's devastated, you're his best friend and he misses you. Your mother does absolutely everything she can for you and Sam. She upended her entire life in Phoenix to give you both a fresh start - since the move you've done nothing but push her away every time she tries to talk. That woman is the sweetest person on this planet and I'll be damned if you think I'm going to let you walk all over her anymore." Huffing at the end of my tirade.

If Michael's eyes got any wider they would've popped out of his head. Maybe the middle of the boardwalk wasn't the best place to do this but I couldn't contain it anymore. The nice approach hasn't worked and he needed a good telling off.

"You're right, everything you're saying is right but maybe we could do this more privately" Michael offered while trying to gently grab my upper arm to pull me somewhere else. With a worried look in his eyes he glanced at the boys then back at me pleadingly.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I embarrassing you in front of your new friends? Who I've never met or heard anything about by the way." I argued back while also taking the time to look them over, up close now.

They all seem to be enjoying themselves watching Michael's berating. Smirks and giggles passing amongst the group as they share knowing glances between them and at me, like they're having a secret conversation only the leather clad bikers can understand.

Piercing blue eyes land on me as bleach-boy flirted "You're a fiery little thing aren't you? I can't believe it's taking this long for us to meet, Michael, how come you didn't introduce us sooner?" He jabbed, finally tearing his eyes away from mine towards the conflicted brunette in front of me.

"You know why David." Michael states matter of factly. His grip on my arm tightening ever so slightly, voice husky with something primal I've never heard from him before.

"Can't imagine why you'd want to hide a babe like this away, it just doesn't seem fair." The tallest blonde beamed at me starry eyed and grinning cheerfully. He moved closer to reach out and stroke my hair quicker than I could register, taking in a small almost imperceptible inhale from me if I wasn't paying close attention. Releasing a contented sigh before I was pulled back towards Michael.

"Don't touch them, don't even think about it." he sneered.

"Come on Mike, we aren't going to hurt 'em. Right Paul?"

"Right on Marko." Paul jested as Marko playfully elbowed him.

What the fuck is happening and who the hell are these guys? Jumping into the one-sided argument between me and my boyfriend to start flirting? Are they his friends? Last time I checked friends don't hit on their friends' significant others, especially right in front of them so shamelessly.

"You never mentioned you were dating someone." The other brunette tacked on to the conversation speaking for the first time. Giving me a once over with those alluring brown eyes, hungrily.

I stared daggers back at the boy holding me in a tight grip, ripping my arm away to mock "Wow, why am I not surprised." I desperately try to steal my emotions to keep the hurt and betrayal from coming to the forefront.

"You don't understand and I don't even know how to explain but you have to believe me it's for your own good." Michael again pleads for my compassion. It's too late for that.

"Of course I don't understand you don't tell me anything anymore! You blow me off, ignore me, and I assume these four are the reason for your revamp in personality." I fumed, gesturing to the group. Chuckles are heard again, at the end of my outburst.

"Are you cheating?" I suddenly asked

"What no-" Michael sputtered in surprise.

"Did you meet someone else?"

"No of course no-"

"Did you do something that could hurt Sam, Lucy, or I?"

"NO babe-"

"Then I don't see what could be so bad that you feel the need to push us all away and act like this. The only reason I'm still standing here putting up with this is because I deserve an explanation and I promised Lucy I'd get answers out of you. So start talking." I sassed.

With a defeated sigh he raised his hands in surrender "Okay Okay, walk with me to the beach and i'll explain everything to you, alone." Emphasizing his final word with a sneer towards David. David only found that amusing as he quirked an eyebrow and took out the cigarette resting behind his ear placing it between his lips and lighting it. He inhaled and blew out a cloud of smoke stating "You sure about that Michael? You're already on edge, we wouldn't want you to lose control and hurt our doll now would we?"

Our? I barely had time to register or retort back at the presumptuous claim before Michael grabbed my hand and stormed off to the beach, steam basically pouring out of his ears.

To be continued...

I feel alright about this so far. Again it's my first ever fic post so you know...it is what it is. :)

🖤 Taglist 🖤

@britany1997

#bloodywickedvamp #the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #michael emerson #michael emerson x reader #poly lost boys x reader #poly!lost boys x reader #tlb 1987 #lost boys x gn reader #david tlb #paul tlb #dwayne tlb #marko tlb #michael tlb #michael emerson x gn reader #x gn reader #the lost boys x gn reader

940 notes · View notes

lihhelsing · 1 year

Text

The World Ends With You

It took a bit of time for Eddie Munson to be on his feet.

Or maybe foot was more accurate. Steve was honestly shocked Eddie had been able to stand like that, let alone walk for who knew how long.

He would definitely need to take a closer look and he already knew he was completely out of his depth. He had seen broken bones and crushed limbs on his mother’s medical books but he never saw it in real life. That was still the best shot Eddie had so it would have to do.

Steve also knew what he was about to say was a douche thing, but one could never be too careful.

“I need you to strip down,” he said and there it was again, the weird sound Eddie made when he laughed. It ringed in Steve’s ears and tingled his brain.

“Woah, Harrington. Guy’s usually pay at least for a coffee first, but I can’t say I’m opposed to the idea,” Eddie answered easily, a grin splayed across his face. Steve stared and stared and he was afraid he was blushing but the dark should still conceal his face. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“Deadly,” Steve added and let the word hang between them.

Death had taken a new meaning for Steve after everything. You didn’t just throw the word around like a joke anymore like ‘Oh I’m dying to eat chocolate muffins’. It felt especially disrespectful now that death walked the earth.

Eddie bit his lower lip like he was thinking about it.

“If you’re not going to strip I can show you the exit.”

“Harsh, man. It’s been a while since I’ve made a show of undressing in front of a guy. Gimme a minute, will you?”

That's snippet number 2 for you for my BB fic in collab with @firefly-party and @verdiris! We're so close to posting day and I can't wait for you to see it. (cc: @steddiebang)

#Stranger Things #steddie big bang #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #apocalypse AU #zombie AU

67 notes · View notes

rizlowwritessortof · 2 years

Text

Cowboy Rescue - Part 1

I have had this WIP going for AGES. I’ve finally decided that maybe if I start posting chapters, it might drive me to get it completed. (It’s complete in my head, but just getting the words down... that’s another story) I’m going to post a chapter at a time, once a week (working on the 4th, and there will probably be a total of 5 and probably an epilogue) and a fic master list once it’s done. I hope you enjoy it!

Cory makes an impulsive decision to drive from Tulsa, Oklahoma, to Montana, accepting an invitation from an old boyfriend, hoping to put closure to their failed long-distance relationship. When circumstances leave her lost in the Montana countryside in the blizzard of the century, local rancher Dean Winchester comes to her rescue. He is far too tempting to resist, but is she getting herself into just another hopeless long-distance situation?

Pairing: Rancher Dean Winchester x OC Cory Tate

Word Count: 2839

Warnings: None. Fluff, a little angst, and eventual smut.

Dividers by the ever-lovely @firefly-graphics - thank you, Daisy!

Cory fought the steering wheel, trying to regain control, but her little SUV headed straight for the ditch. A cloud of white engulfed her as the front end completely disappeared into a huge drift, the back end sliding slowly farther in as it settled and sank into the ever-deepening snow.

“Fuck!” She slammed her hands against the wheel, throwing her head back against the seat in frustration. Now what was she going to do?

Worst day ever. First of all, the bridge on the main highway was out due to an ice jam that had damaged it, and the detour took her into a maze of gravel roads that soon had her lost. Then this unexpected blizzard, slowly worsening to the point of zero visibility, and now her car was buried in this frigid hell and she had no idea where she was. She picked up her cell phone, not surprised at all to see ‘no service’ on the screen.

“Of course. I always wanted to freeze to death in the wilderness of Montana.” A baleful glare aimed at the sky, she shouted, “If you wanted to kill me, why didn’t you just drop a meteor on my head!”

She shut off the engine, glancing at the fuel gauge. The tank was about three quarters full, so at least there was that. She’d have to bundle up and make sure the tailpipe was clear of snow so she didn’t gas herself, but she could run the heater intermittently to keep from freezing, at least. The emergency kit in the trunk had water and candles, protein bars, all the necessities for survival, but it would definitely not be fun.

She was deep in thought, preparing herself for the trip outside to grab her supplies and clear the exhaust, when a pounding on her door made her shriek in fright. Heart hammering in her chest, she peered out into the snow to see the dark silhouette of a rather large person looming outside her window. She could make out a muffled man’s voice as he shouted to be heard through her car door. “Are you hurt?”

She squinted her eyes, looking out in his direction, and shaking her head. “No, not hurt. Just stuck.”

He nodded, and spoke again. “Well, bundle up, you can ride with me to my place, it’s just down the road.”

“Oh, thank you!” she replied, relief flooding through her. She grabbed her gloves and stocking cap, wrapped her scarf around her neck, and took a deep breath before opening the door. It would barely move, and the man outside took hold to force it open far enough for her to slide out. “Thank you!” she shouted again, her voice almost lost in the howling wind.

They got the door closed again, and she locked it, shoving the keys deep into her coat pocket. The snow was mid-thigh high on her, and she gratefully took the man’s hand, letting him help pull her up to the road. It was still deep, but at least she could navigate somewhat, and she looked around for his vehicle.

“This way,” he yelled, and she followed him a few yards, then stopped dead in her tracks.

“That’s a horse!”

“Yep!” he answered. “Nothing with four wheels is gettin’ around in this mess.”

Okay, maybe freezing in her car wasn’t all that bad, she thought in a panic. She followed him closer, watching as he effortlessly climbed onto the animal’s back. “I don’t know how to ride a horse,” she yelled, her voice mostly lost in the storm.

“It’s okay, I do.” She could almost hear the smile in his voice, and she blushed, not that he could see it. “Here, give me your hand. Put your left foot up in the stirrup and just boost yourself up, swing your leg over. I’ll help you.” She grasped his large hand in both of hers, and after a couple of false starts, she launched herself upward with his help, managing to straddle the huge animal behind her benefactor. “Now, scoot up close behind me and put your arms around my waist. We don’t have too far to go.”

She did as she was told, thankful that his broad back blocked most of the wind from her face, and she held on for dear life as he urged the horse forward. “How can you even see where we’re going?” she shouted, completely disoriented by the swirling white around them.

“I can’t very well, but don’t worry. Whiskey knows her way home.”

She was sheltered from most of the wind, but in the ten to fifteen minutes it took them to reach his place, she was shivering uncontrollably from the bitter cold. He urged the horse forward until they stood right in front of the large barn, then turned slightly to speak again. “Okay, just take hold again, step in the stirrup, and I’ll help you get down. We’ll have to go in the barn for a couple of minutes so I can take care of the horse, then I’ll get you inside. It’s warm in here,” he promised. She let go of his waist, taking his proffered hand and slipping down sideways until her foot could reach the stirrup. He held her securely until she was on the ground, then swung down himself, reaching for the reins to guide the horse inside.

She followed, pulling the big door closed behind them, instantly grateful for the barn heater up high on the wall, keeping the interior livable for the animals inside. There were a couple more horses in stalls farther in, and empty stalls on the other side. “Can I help with something?” she asked, rubbing her hands together and looking up into his face, what she could see of it. The collar of his shearling coat was pulled up, his cowboy hat securely in place and his eyes were barely visible above a snow-crusted bandanna.

“Yeah, that storage closet right there? Can you hand me a couple of towels?”

She nodded, grabbing two of the big, fluffy towels from a shelf and handing them over. He proceeded to rub his horse down, drying her off and warming her up, and Cory could hear him talking softly to her as he worked. “Good girl, Whiskey,” he said as he finished up, reaching deep in his pocket for a couple of sugar cubes. “You deserve a treat. You got us home safe.” Whiskey nickered in reply, nudging her nose into his shoulder before ducking her head to nibble the sugar from his gloved hand. He turned to lift the lid on a wooden container nearby and scooped some oats into the feeding trough, then gave the animal a final pat and left the stall, latching it securely behind him. He turned to face Cory, nodding his head towards the house. “Okay, let’s get you inside.”

She followed closely behind him, still blinded by the swirling snow, and he pulled off a glove, reaching down deep into the pocket of his jeans for the key. He switched on a light as they stepped into the house, and she breathed a sigh of relief at the warmth. “You can hang your stuff up there, I’ll find you something dry to put on.”

Cory removed her outer layers, amazed at the amount of snow clinging to them, and took off her boots, brushing the snow from the legs of her jeans onto the rug by the door. A shiver ran through her, and she turned to face her rescuer as he kicked his boots off. “Thank you again. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come by. I was just planning to get my emergency stuff from the trunk and clear the exhaust pipe so I could keep from completely freezing to death, but it would have been miserable.”

“I’m glad I saw you go in the ditch, otherwise I might’ve missed you.” He stood, setting his boots next to the door, and turned to look at her with a smile. Her breath caught for a moment as she stared back at him, stunned into silence as she took in his appearance, finally remembering to smile back. He was a breathtaking specimen of a man, tall and lean, his green eyes crinkled at the corners, his tongue darting out over his perfectly-shaped lips, which were framed by a well-trimmed beard. He ran his fingers through his hat-tousled hair, and she forced herself to breathe and respond.

“Well, thank you again for the cowboy rescue.” He laughed, and she grinned back at him. “Hey, you picked me up on a horse, so… it fits. I’m Cory, by the way. Cory Tate.”

“Dean Winchester. Cowboy rescue. Nice. So – let me go find you some dry clothes.” He disappeared through a doorway, returning shortly with some folded garments in hand. “Sorry, these are gonna be way too big for you, but at least they’ll get you by until yours can dry out. There’s a shower in the guest room, if you want to take a hot shower.”

“That sounds awesome, thank you. Which way?”

Dean pointed to a doorway. “Down that hall, second door. I’m gonna go shower, then I can rustle us up some food. Maybe a drink.” He winked, then turned to head back towards his room.

Cory stood in front of the mirror in the guest room, feeling like a child wearing her daddy’s clothes. The sweat pants he had given her were miles too long, and she had tucked and rolled them as much as she could manage, but the waist was another issue. The sweatshirt was huge, but she didn’t mind that as much, as long as she could keep the pants up. Maybe Dean had a safety pin somewhere she could borrow. His socks were way too big as well, but at least her feet were warm.

She peered out the door timidly, then stepped out, one hand holding the pants up, and let her eyes wander around the room. The house was beautiful, old but obviously well-cared-for. The glow of real polished oak and gleaming hardwood floors gave it a warmth that she admired, a far cry from her cold, neutral color apartment. A large stone fireplace, fire just beginning to crackle and pop, took up a big portion of one wall, and a comfy-looking sofa sat nearby, a gorgeous woven rug and large coffee table completing the cozy area.

She heard a sound from the next room and ventured further, stepping through the doorway into a large, homey kitchen. Dean was just putting a skillet on the stove, and turned to face her as she shuffled in. A little burst of laughter escaped before he clamped his lips shut, his eyes shining with suppressed mirth. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but you are drowning in my clothes.”

Cory joined in, blushing a little. “Well, I could really use a safety pin, if you have one. Or a belt? I feel like I’m going to walk right out of these pants.”

“Sorry I don’t have anything that would fit you better. Hang on, I’ll grab the belt from my robe, that should work.” He left her there alone for a moment, returning with the belt, and she took it gratefully, turning her back to get it in place, much more comfortable now that her – well, his – pants wouldn’t wind up around her ankles.

“Thank you! This is so much better. I still look like a little kid playing dress-up, but...”

Dean laughed again, grabbing a carton of eggs from the fridge. “I promise, tomorrow I’ll take the snowmobile out and bring your bags from the car. So, omelets okay with you? I’ve got bacon, mushrooms, cheese, onions – whatever you want in it.”

“That sounds amazing. I didn’t realize how hungry I am. Can I help cut veggies or anything?” Soon she was perched on a bar stool next to the island, chopping onion and cutting up mushrooms while Dean whisked the eggs. Her eyes kept roaming as she worked, watching the play of muscle in his back beneath the soft ivory henley he was wearing. And his sweat pants fit him much better than they fit her. Much, much better. She mentally shook her head at herself and tried to focus on the task at hand before she cut off her own finger.

“So, Cory – where are you from?” Dean asked, pouring eggs into a skillet.

“Tulsa, Oklahoma. I’ve lived there for a couple of years now. I grew up in South Dakota, though.”

“What the hell brought you to Montana in the middle of a blizzard?” he asked, tending to the bacon, which was making her stomach growl.

She laughed. “Well, mostly stupidity. Kind of a long story...”

“I got no place to go,” he said, shooting her a grin over his shoulder.

“Okay, you asked for it,” she smiled back. “So, I dated this guy for – well, pretty much from the time I moved into Tulsa. A couple of months ago, he got a job in Billings, and that was that. We did the whole ‘we’ll visit each other’ thing, but – never happened, and the phone calls died pretty quickly, too. But last week he called me, said there was a party – tonight, actually – with some new work friends he’d met, and he invited me to come up.” Cory slipped off the bar stool and took the plate of chopped veggies over to Dean, who began to add them to the eggs cooking on the stove. She leaned back against the counter and continued. “I debated, because obviously, neither of us was desperately dying without the other, you know? But I decided, if I just came up here, and it felt like it was over, then I could just close that chapter and move on. I mean, I could have anyway, but – since he called… I don’t know. See? Stupid.”

He smiled over at her. “No, not stupid. Nothing wrong with making sure before you close the door. I get it.”

“Well, obviously I’m not going to make it to the party, so…”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Oh, well. Everything happens for a reason, right?”

When the food was finished, Dean handed her a plate and pointed to a nearby drawer. “Silverware’s in there. Want to eat in front of the fireplace? I usually do, but we can go to the dining room if you want...”

“No, that sounds great. I wish I had one at home. I always loved our fireplace when I was growing up.”

They carried their plates with them into the living room and settled in on the large sofa, and Cory sighed contentedly. “This is nice. So – your turn, I spilled my love life, so it’s only fair,” she teased with a smile. She took a bite of her omelet and closed her eyes with an appreciative “Mmmm. This is amazing.”

Dean grinned. “Thanks. Being really hungry makes everything taste better.” He finished a bite from his own plate before speaking again. “So, love life. At the moment, I don’t have one.”

“I can’t believe there’s not someone out there dying to be Mrs. Dean Winchester.”

“I’ve dated a couple of women over the last two years. The first one for over a year, but when I finally brought her out here – let’s just say the shine wore off fast. She was definitely not up for country life. She was too afraid of breaking a nail or getting dirty to do anything, and she hated the animals. They were too big and they smelled bad.”

“Oh, no...”

“Yeah. And the next one – all she wanted to do was go out. Clubs, restaurants, theaters, shopping - she always wanted to do something noisy and crowded and expensive. I don’t mind spending money, don’t get me wrong, but – I like to just sit and watch the stars sometimes, or take a walk, be somewhere I can hear myself think. I finally came to the conclusion that it takes a special kind of woman to want to live this kind of life. It’s not for everybody. Definitely wasn’t for those two.”

They chatted as they finished their food, and Dean laughed softly as Cory yawned. “Sorry. Guess I’m more exhausted than I realized.”

“Here, I’ll take your plate. Go, get some sleep. If you need more blankets, there are extras in that chest at the foot of the bed.”

She gave him a grateful smile as she stood. “Dean, thank you. For the rescue, and the hospitality. I wish I could repay you.”

He responded with a crooked smile, shaking his head. “No need. It’s been nice to have somebody to talk to.” He watched as she headed for the bedroom. “Sleep well. Yell if you need something.”

“Thanks, Dean. Good night.”

He watched her disappear down the hall, then smiled to himself as he grabbed their dishes and headed for the kitchen.

Tags for my lovelies: @saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel @darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5 @melanie451 @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean-blog @savingapplepie-eatingthings @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain @undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie @tanithlowisabamf-blog @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @darkx143 @disassociativedogma @ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirstblog @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1 @winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @torn-and-frayed @sandlee44 @wingedcatninja @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @sarcasmqueen74 @mrsjenniferwinchester

#cowboy rescue #part 1 #dean fic #dean au #rancher!dean #dean x oc #dean x cory #no smut in this part

68 notes · View notes

hexiewrites · 10 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 43!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 562,348, which is honestly insane

3. What fandoms do you write for? right now mostly stranger things. I've got most of a ted lasso fic written but who knows if that'll get posted?? and prev, harry potter.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. don't take this sinner (dramione, marriage law ish), 2. same as it ever was (steddie, two timelines, one of my first steddie fics!) 3. carve your name into my chest (steddie, the hockey au of my dreams) 4. come get your man (he got lost in my DMs) (steddie, social media, steve being a horny DM guy) 5. there'll be a riot (cause I know you) (steddie, the matty-healy-rat-man-Eddie-vibed mostly smut fic)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? ugh. I WISH!!!! I want to be better at this, I really do. I usually start strong but I end up with limited energy/time and I want to filter that into writing more. if you've ever commented: I FUCKING LOVE YOU and think you're SO cool! if you really WANT a reply, the best way to get that is to ask me questions haha. it starts to feel weird just "thank you!"ing everyone, ya know?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I am.... not an angsty ending person tbqh! I think the closest is probably you love the sea, which is a flintwood rarepair selkie fic that I deeply love. it ends happy, insofaras they end up TOGETHER, but if you think more about the implications and how fucking sad it's going to be for oliver... well. I'll leave that to you guys.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? god, I'm well known for having "endings so happy they border on absurd", according to one person online. so, pick your poison I guess! anyways the fic THAT person was referring to was same as it ever was, so, let's go with that!

8. Do you get hate on fics? I have been so lucky lately to not get much hate at all lately, which is a real privilege in the fandom world. remember that I cut my teeth in early days of harry potter, and people were BRUTAL. I definitely HAVE gotten hate - my aforementioned dramione fic has a bit of a weird twist that some people were PISSED about (and once I got an incredibly detailed comment about how badly I fucked up my representation of black Hermione because she... didn't talk that much about hating her hair? which I know is AN experience but not necessarily a universal one) but overall, at least this fandom go around, no hate. thank you, everyone, for that!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes. lots and lots and lots of it. mostly kinda kinky and pretty much all pretty gay. let's not talk about how many times I've had to tag dacryphilia and what that means. I just like when people fuck about things, yknow?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? nope, never! and I likely never will. too much to keep track of.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that I know of, thank god for that.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I've had requests but... I would need a translator willing to work pretty closely with me because I want to make sure certain choices come across well, and I haven't found that yet.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? not officially, though I did write a buckingham companion piece to the amazing cowboy-bar fic @riality-check did!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? OH GOD don't make me choose! ALL TIME is still probably dramione, but steddie is a very close second. in terms of canon ships, I'm such a sucker for buffy/spike (leave me alone), and veronica mars/logan (AGAIN LEAVE ME ALONE) and rory/logan (BECAUSE RICH WHITE BOYS NAMED LOGAN ARE A WEAKNESS, APPARENTLY)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? pour one OUT for you can't take the sky from me, which is my firefly inspired harry potter au ft pansy/percy, mostly because I had so many big plans for it that I've completely forgotten AND I just can't write in that fandom at all anymore. sorry everyone, I do love what I put out and I wish there was more of it.

16. What are your writing strengths? prose, smut, tying things together with little bows, and spending way too much time in my characters heads

17. What are your writing weaknesses? dual POVs, getting so lost in one character I don't flesh out the others as much as I mean to, action sequences, and consistent motivation

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I've done it before (mostly in clean ice, cold hearts, can't lose) and my typical strategy is to indicate that the characters are speaking a diff language (in french, I use guillements and italics) but not to actually WRITE the french, unless it's very short and the POV character doesn't understand it on purpose like in carve.

19. First fandom you wrote for? harry potter baby! my oldest posted fic that I've found online was from 2002, when I was... too young to be interacting with the internet like that, that's for sure.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? carve your name into my chest and it's no contest. I love same as it ever was as well, which I think is a better WRITTEN fic technically speaking, but carve was a huge passion project that I had so much fun with, and the response to it had been one of my favourite things in the world. oh, and special shout out to make this inn our own, which is my second longest fic ever and was just an absolute joy to do. so, those three, I guess!

tagging with no pressure: @riality-check @hereforanepilogue @maxineholtzmann @stevespookington @stevethehairington @withacapitalp and whoever else wants in!

#ask games #author tags #about the author

3 notes · View notes

mochie85 · 2 years

Note

Can you do one were for some reason, Loki and the reader have to do manual labor (like chop wood, milk a cow, using a hand pump and carrying buckets of water, stuff like that) and by the trope of ignorant alien boyfriend reader makes fun of him (in a good way) and is fluff and have some mutual pining

Foraged

One-Shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist

A/N: Did I do some research while writing this fic? Absolutely. Did that research include watching Bradley.Thor on TikTok? Yes. And No, the irony was not lost on me. 🤣 I hope you like this Nonny! 🥰 Thank you for the request. Keep them coming.

Word Count: Almost 2k Warnings: Fluff Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

The weather was sublime. The warm afternoon breeze blew the fragrance of the wildflowers all around you. The serene view was marred only by the sound of complaints and grumbles from the god behind you.

“I can’t believe we’re stuck out here.” He mumbled to himself.

“Oh, come on Loki. It’s not so bad.” You smiled at him. He looked at you, the sun highlighting your silhouette in front of him. The only saving grace from this mission was that he got to do it with you.

“The sooner I can get back to modern civilization, the better.” He croaked.

You two were in an isolated masia in the middle of Catalonia. A safe house that was set aside for agents, and Bruce – whenever he needed his space to calm down. You spotted a few cows grazing along the western slope. And there were chickens in a large coop in the back of the house. You didn’t know if someone came to maintain the livestock, or if they were wild and set free from a time when this was used as an actual farm.

As stocked as the masia was, everything was either expired or inoperable. The faucets had run dry. The electricity was suspicious, to say the least. It seemed almost forgotten and in disarray by the time the two of you arrived.

“I sent the signal. The team should be intercepting it soon and then they can collect us. But until then, let’s see if we can find something to eat. Who knows how long we’ll be here.” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Do you think you can chop wood for the fireplace while I forage?” You asked him. He nodded.

“Will you be ok, by yourself?” he asked anxiously.

“Awe. Are you worried about me?” you teased. “I’ll be fine. I should go make use of the daylight before the sun sets.” You staggered off, giving him a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

You didn’t wander far. Only a minute into the sparse woods surrounding the ranch, looking above for any type of fruit you can gather. You found some edible mushrooms and berries. You were lucky to spot a pear tree with ripe fruit.

Birds sang from the trees and small woodland creatures scurried about the medieval plants. You didn’t want to try your luck at hunting. But you did hear a stream nearby. Maybe you can go fishing - if your stay ends up being longer than expected.

As you came back around the clearing, you heard the deep thud of wood falling. And the low growl of Loki’s voice. You watched as Loki raised his arms to swing an ax down. Bringing a cutting blow to the poor log below him.

You almost dropped the supplies you were carrying at the sight of his bare chest exposed in the sunlight. Each line, defined and strong, rippled as he reached for a new piece of wood and placed it on the chopping block. You would’ve never known the distinction of his muscles, the strength those arms had, under the many layers he usually wears.

His grunts and panting timed with the rhythm of his swing. He had a hard time with one particular log, “Come on. Open for me.” He brought the ax down with formidable grace and split that stubborn log into two. “Atta girl.”

You took a deep breath and hid behind a tree. You bit down on your lip to keep from screaming as you closed your eyes and prayed to any higher power that will listen to you. Gods, save me from these wicked thoughts. Calm my nerves before I wreck this man and make a fool outta myself.

“What are you doing?” Loki said as if he were answering your prayers.

You screamed at the surprise appearance of Loki next to you. The pears you had in your arms fell to the ground. You noticed that he had put his shirt back on. Your eyes raked him once over.

“Nothing. I was just taking a break.” You lied. Loki bent down and helped you gather the berries and fruits that had fallen.

“You got quite a haul here.” He noted. Walking in step with you back to the house.

“Yup. Yeah, and you managed to get a decent amount of wood for the fireplace, I see.”

“Do you think that pump over there by the side of the house might work?”

“If the well isn’t dried up. Let’s see.” Loki handed you the fruit he had picked up and sauntered over to examine the water pump.

Inside the house, you dropped your foraged goods on the kitchen counter. You found large tin buckets by the entrance and brought them outside to help Loki.

The pump had gone dry. Loki flushed the handle repeatedly getting no luck. You stepped in to help, grabbing the handle. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.” He said as he peered into the spout.

“I wouldn’t put my face…” It was too late. The water had decided then to make its appearance and shot straight across towards Loki’s face, drenching him. A look of shock and a gasp tore through you as you covered your mouth, trying not to laugh.

Loki stood up slowly, his lips thinning in anger. His finger held up, warning you not to make a sound. “Don’t you dare say a word!” Loki snarled. Your amusement peeled away at his resolve as he listened to your melodic laughter.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Please, don’t -” but you couldn’t stop laughing anyway as he flailed his hands in your direction. Small drops of water flicking you wet.

Loki lifted the hem of his soaked shirt up and over his head. The lean muscles you spied on earlier making a full appearance. His lithe shoulders were wet from the water. Loki took that same shirt and wiped his face, his arms, and all along his chest. You watched him, quietly leaning on the pump.

“Enjoying the view?” he said realizing he had an audience. He threw his shirt at your face.

A heady mix of his scent and cologne flooded your senses. You hoped that his shirt hid the dark blush covering your face. “And so what if I am?”

Loki only shook his head, hiding the smile that formed. “Move over, you dangerous creature, and let me pump. Hold the buckets,” he instructed.

“I’m sorry for laughing.” You said. Loki only rolled his eyes. His embarrassment already gone after seeing your suggestive stare.

He kept his shirt off as he brought the full buckets inside the house.

Later that night, the both of you had sat down, knee to knee, in front of a roaring fireplace. Eating all the things the two of you had gathered.

Loki had ventured out with you after your water fiasco, a basket in hand, to the chicken coop and tried to pilfer some eggs. He had no such luck as the hens kept trying to peck his hand away. You were lucky to grab some with gentle coaxing and a hypnotizing trick your grandmother taught you.

“Do you think you’ll have better luck with the cows?” you asked slightly teasing.

“Can you even wrangle one?” he asked doubtfully. You took that as a challenge and set forth to corral the nearest cow you could find.

Calming her, soothing her, you whispered to Loki, “Keep her occupied and calm while I collect her milk.”

“How do you propose I do that?” he asked aloud, wide-eyed.

“Shh. Just stroke her head. Talk to her.” You made your way behind her slowly. Patting her along the way till you were able to bend down with a bucket and start milking.

“Hello…ma’am,” Loki said with gawkiness, patting her on her head. You started to giggle. His awkwardness was endearing.

You laughed about it that night over dinner. You had cooked the mushrooms and made sunny-side eggs with butter churned from the milk you extracted. Loki’s seidr helped tremendously and saved you both from aching elbows and arms. You were always in awe whenever he used his magic.

And for dessert, berries with pears.

“This is delicious, darling.” He commented. “I’m so glad to have been stuck with someone as skillful and clever.” You flushed at his comment. “Tony could never.”

That’s when you started laughing. “No, he couldn’t.”

“Where did you learn such skill?” he asked.

“I grew up on a vineyard with my grandparents. My grandfather was a vintner and sold locally. He taught me a little bit about plants and foraging. But my grandmother loved animals. She kept a few chickens and goats. A cow name Lulubelle.” You sighed at the memory. “I miss them terribly.”

Loki stared at you. He felt awed that you would share such a precious memory with him. “What about you? Where’d you learn to chop wood?” you asked, remembering the scene from earlier today, heat crawling up your spine.

“Is that so surprising? For a prince to know his way around an ax?”

“Honestly. Yes. I didn’t picture you using anything other than your seidr.” He laughed at your candidness.

“It was part of training, to be with the Einherjar. You needed to be able to survive and build a make-shift shelter. Living off the land. You’d never know what kind of situation or planet you’d find yourself in.”

You nodded in understanding.

“It was one of the ways a fellow soldier could help the regiment overall. At times, Thor would always show off and split the wood with his bare hands.” Loki shook his head as he rolled his eyes. You laughed at the thought of Thor trying to impress his fellow troops.

Loki looked up at the sound of your laughter. He loved the musical tone it had. He loved the fact that he could make you sound like that. His errant thoughts ran away from him and he started to wonder what other sounds he could persuade you to make.

As if you could read his thoughts, his teasing eyes, and his inviting smile, you slowed your laughter to a quiet giggle. Turning away to hide your face, Loki grabbed your chin to stop you.

He leaned in close, brushing his lips on yours. His breath was sweet from the berries he just consumed. He paused for only a second, waiting for you to turn or to stop him. When you didn’t, he pressed further. Enveloping your lips fully in his. As you drew in his top lip, you ran your tongue along the length of it, hearing him whimper.

He pulled you closer to him, sitting on his lap. He placed your thighs on either side of his strong hips. Your hands delighted in the taut muscles under his shirt. Finally being able to touch what you glimpsed earlier.

Static from the radio reached both your ears. Steve’s warm voice echoed through the receiver. You pulled away to reach for it, but Loki held you firmly in place and pulled your chin back towards his lips.

He devoured you.

Loki ignored the transmit as if he knew he didn’t have much time left.

“Signal received. I hope you both are ok. The extraction team will be there in a couple of hours.”

“Well, darling. We don’t have much time left together. What would you like to do?” Loki said panting on your lips.

You kissed him back with as much fervor and proceeded to lift his shirt.

All Taglist:

@alexs1200 @britishserpent @huntress-artemiss @mishief2sarawr @user13cabs @lokiprompts @lokisninerealsms @lokisgoodgirl

#request #requests are open #answered #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #mcu #marvel fanfic #loki fandom #lovely readers #anonymous #mutual pining

300 notes · View notes

frostironfudge · 2 years

Text

I Think I Met You In My Dreams Once - Bucky Barnes - Three

Summary: After receiving an honourable discharge from his military service that was caused by the loss of his arm, James Barnes begins to come to terms with several things. He also finds solace in youtube videos, memes and on social media, where he happens to find you.

Pairing: Ex-Military!Bucky Barnes x Fem! Plus Size!Reader (Modern AU)

Chapter Warnings: warnings: some angst, some fluff, two idiots having crushes, mutual pining, steve and natasha have the braincell, mild innuendos, nothing major

Word Count: 3841 Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Fic Masterlist || Main Masterlist || AO3 || Fic Playlist

Chapter Two || Chapter Four

It had been three months. Three months of laughter, jokes and an attempt to play UNO with a respective deck and failing miserably and then resorting to finding online versions of board games. Three months of staying up late and then alternatively nursing a cup of coffee.

After the first month you had sat down with James to have a serious conversation about his sleeping pattern since the sporadic memes did make you laugh but their timing had your stomach churning. That lead to Bucky admitting he still struggles with PTSD from time to time. He also mentioned his reluctance for the bionic arm. Though he continued coding for the team and the other participants.

Steve smiled warmly as Bucky snuck into the kitchen to speak to you. That man had this goofy grin on his face which Steve remembered from high school when Bucky had attempted to ask out the girl he had a crush on.

“When are we supposed to tell him that he has a crush?” Sam has a mischievous glint he rubs his palms together almost feeling like a villain.

“You’re way too excited about teasing him over her.” Steve notes with a chuckle.

“Come on man, its been too long since we’ve seen him this happy, I just want to know whats going on.” Sam reasons and the blonde haired man just shakes his head.

“Whats going on where?” Bucky comments entering as he pockets his phone.

Sam grins, Bucky raises a brow in question to Steve.

“Well we had a question.” Steve begins, then looks at Sam to carry forward.

“Oh so pin it on me, great, yes so we’ve been aware of this watching the moon lady,”

“Watching the moonlight or you can take her name, she isn’t Voldemort.” Bucky corrects and still looks between the two in confusion.

“Yes so, is something brewing there, is our question.” Sam completes and gives him a teasing look.

Bucky opens his mouth then closes it again, “No.”

“Oh bullshit.” Steve rolls his eyes, “You have a thing for her.”

“Steve, seriously no.” Bucky defends hand raised to add emphasis.

“So you won’t mind if I slide into her DMs right, cause she cute.” Sam smugly grins when he sees the brunette’s nostrils flare.

“You aren’t her type.” He gets a Barnes glare.

“And you know her type because?” Steve prompts.

“Because we discussed about partners and— why am I even discussing this with you two? End of topic Sam is not her type nor are you.” Bucky adds when he sees that Steve is going to open his mouth.

“I will still shoot my shot, since you aren’t interested in her. Correct?” Sam knows he is pushing it, but sometimes he needs to get himself a week worth of glaring to have Bucky act on something.

“Maybe I will too.” Steve adds trying to hide the shit eating grin when it has the intended effect to rile Bucky up.

“Why the sudden interest? She’s my friend since a while.” Bucky feels a twinge of hope, he knows it is stupid to compare himself to his best friends. He worries constantly that if he admits about his small crush on you, you will run for the hills after blocking him.

“Yes well then you can vouch for her right?” Steve sits on the couch taking his phone out, Bucky moves to the couch as well eyeing what he’s doing he wants to throw the phone when Steve’s finger hovers above the send message icon.

“Okay DM sent.” Sam gleams plopping down next to the two and Bucky reads the message he sent.

@.falcon_wilson:

Hey pretty girl, saw your picture and couldn’t resist not knowing more about you. Care to know what is it that intrigues me about you, beautiful?

Bucky winces, if him admiting his feelings didn’t drive you away his friends would.

“That is cringe.” Steve comments as he types away, “This is more tasteful.”

“Mine is flirty with just a hint of nice.”

“She’s going to block us all.” Bucky huffs, taking a bite of the mini pizzas.

@.captainrogers:

Hey this is Steve, Bucky’s friend, I thought I could speak to you, I’m planning a little thing for his birthday and wanted to know if you would like to be a part of it?

“See this is sophisticated, allows for decent conversations. Before progressing.” The blonde explains with nonchalance.

Sam rolls his eyes.

Bucky facepalms. Then groans. Then retrieves his phone when it vibrates.

His lips twitch into a half smile as he sees your familiar username.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

two of your friends slid into my DMs, should I be worried? is this some friendship test? or is it some weird pledge test, like from the american movies about frat houses and shit? is there a blood sacrifice involved?

He laughs, the mirth calming his nerves. Only you would not understand their intentions of a message like that, it was three am on Saturday so past midnight for you. Which also meant you sacrificed your sleep usually till a little later and if you woke up early you would inevitably find Bucky awake.

@.bbarnes:

it isn’t a frat house thing, also you need to stop watching trashy college films that are inaccurate.

no blood sacrifices are involved.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

so it is a pledge thingy?

@.bbarnes:

ask them? i don’t know what they have sent…

It is a white lie but he wants to know what will you say.

“I have a reply! I have a reply!” Steve grins and the trio wait for the chat to load up.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

hey steve, nice to finally speak to you, james has spoken very highly of you, i’m glad he has such a good friend there for him but i’m a little confused… his birthday was about five months ago correct? or did you mean planning for next year already?

Steve groans, Sam and Bucky laugh.

“Yes, very strategic.” Sam applauds slowly for effective sarcasm delivery.

“Why didn’t you say she knew your birthday!” Steve whines, thinking of what to reply to save face.

“Birthdays are like the first few questions in twenty questions.” Bucky shrugs, his phone buzzes again and then Sam’s.

“Lets see what she tells lover boy.” Steve grumbles and they turn to Sam’s phone.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

hi sam,

thank you for the compliment and what is it that intrigues you?

Bucky re-reads it, you were initiating a conversation with Sam. He shouldn’t feel jealous or irritated but he kind of wishes you would shut him down.

Sam grins and does an aha! “Now gotta turn on the Wilson charm.” He grins and begins to type.

Bucky leans back into the couch to read your message from the notifications, but Steve laughs and he ignores his phone.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

hey james, so um, i have some news which is well meh so just let me know if you’re in the frame of mind to talk about some heavy stuff… i don’t want to dump it on you if you’re having a bad day.

Nat has come over but she will be out like a light bulb soon.

So um yeah, let me know how are you feeling mental health wise and emotional health wise cause i’m not dumping my shit on you and if you lie to me i’ll know.

@.captainrogers:

you got me, i prepare in advance so i know what to manage and who is a part of it. sort of like have a binder to go through step by step.

Bucky rolls his eyes, Steve and meticulously planning things? The guy lost his student planner for the better part of high school.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

ah, well, you can count me in. james is very important to me, i don’t know how much he has spoken about me to you but he means a lot to me.

so let me know how i can help from miles away. i think i could make a cake out of cake emojis so…

Steve laughs again, now he understands why Bucky keeps chuckling or huffing out a bemused laugh and the genuine laughter you bring to his best friend when he speaks to you.

Bucky’s heart warms at the message, he keeps re-reading the line where you say he is very important to you. He bites the inside of his cheek contemplating admitting his feelings to his friends.

You are too important for him to lose you.

@.falcon_wilson:

first of all that little smile, i bet i could be a reason for it ;)

@.watchingthemoonlight:

aw, thank you

“Just, thank you?” Sam stares at his phone.

“Really lovely Wilson charm, man.” Steve compliments.

“Shut up.” Sam begins typing again.

Bucky looks back at Steve’s reply and sees you typing.

@.captainrogers:

i’m glad he has you too. also hmm, an emoji cake does sound fun but lets keep that as a back up till we figure something better out.

hope your night is going well.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

sure, we’ll keep this as a plan C since i know you will come up with a plan A and B.

oh nothing much just its past midnight here and i’m going to go off to sleep in a bit. it was really nice talking to you.

“That Rogers charm seems to be great. Sent her right to bed.” Sam remarks.

@.falcon_wilson:

i don’t know if it was obvious from my profile but i can fly planes, got my license this past year. I could see you enjoying flying.

Bucky’s phone chimes again he reads the two notifications.

[message was unsent by sender 7 mins ago]

@.watchingthemoonlight sent you a message

he previews it from the notification tab heart sinking.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

does sam have a girlfriend? he’s messaging me and i don’t want to intrude on someone’s relationship.

Bucky choses not to respond. You could ask Sam yourself. He clenches his jaw, trying not to let it get to him.

“Ohhh she responded!” Sam cheers and the disgruntled look on Bucky’s face has confirmed to Steve he has feelings for you. He needs to tell Sam to take it down a notch but Bucky was fully focused on the phone to ignore his text.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

that is pretty impressive bet you’ve taken a lot of ladies up there.

@.falcon_wilson:

saving that for a special someone you know? what about you? any special things reserved for anyone special?

@.watchingthemoonlight:

oh um it may seem silly but blanket forts and movie marathons, never made that but I want to with someone special.

“Didn’t you two have a movie marathon?” Steve murmurs and Bucky looks up at him.

“What? No- we just watched Sherlock.” Bucky shrugs trying to not let it get to him.

@.falcon_wilson:

i could build you that fort and several more. it isn’t silly at all.

“Lets see if she agrees.” Sam looks at Bucky and for some reason the latter is holding his breath in anticipation.

You stare at the two unread messages sent to James, he did say he was going to hang out with the two of the said friends who were DM-ing her. So she wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the type of texts. You decide to un-send the earlier message.

Nat was still laughing at Sam’s attempts at flirting with you. Though she had been pestering you to admit you were developing feelings for the kind hearted veteran who graced your phone and laptop screen more often than your university work.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Nat exasperatedly lays down on the bed snatching your phone and groaning at the latest cheesy flirty message from Sam.

Though you had shut down Steve by giving a reason of sleeping, a part of you wondered if James and they had discussed anything before reaching out to you. That is if this wasn’t some elaborate joke type thing to welcome you into the friend group.

Nat begins typing on your phone and you have half a mind to snatch it before she hits send.

“Flirt with him from your own account.” You grumble deleting the very thirsty message she typed out. Replacing it with your own message.

“You know what, maybe, I will.” She retrieves her own phone and looks at you expectantly.

“What?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Talk me up, be my wing woman.” Nat rolls her eyes at your lack of understanding.

“Unless you are interested in Mr. Falcon Wilson, so I’ll just message Mr. B Barnes.” She begins to laugh at your furious expression a possessiveness for Bucky taking over.

“I—,”

“Just admit it, please. I can’t take the wills he won’t she tension anymore.” Natasha shakes her head bemused at your reluctance.

“I would but what good is it? He’s all the way there and I’m here the friendship only works because its new and we respond during free time. Also I think he just wants to be friends. In six months will he still want to be my friend?” You explain sighing.

“Please I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Nat has you face her and she grabs your hands.

“He looks at you as if you hung the moon. You look at him as if he decorated the night sky with stars for you.”

“Nat…” You feel a painful twinge of hope, painful because if it was the truth it would hurt because of the distance and if it was not the truth then it would just hurt per-say.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

i think i have someone in mind already to build and sit in the one fort with me or maybe two forts. undecided on the number of forts but i hope you appreciate the honesty.

also if you are looking for someone to fly with, my best friend may be interested. She loves flying well commercial is all she has done but I bet you could catch her attention with your abilities.

@.falcon_wilson:

is she as beautiful of a soul as you are? cause bucky keeps singing your praises.

You smile fondly reading about James speaking about you to them. You hadn’t yet called him Bucky, he never insisted and somehow you found when you took his name he had this sweet soft smile playing on his lips.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

Natasha is a sweetheart, I think you both will get along pretty well.

if you do anything to hurt her i will find you and end you. i’ll tell James to end you before i get there but i will revive you just to end you again.

( @.alianovna profile attached click to open)

@.falcon_wilson:

yes ma’am, i will treat her with utmost respect.

also i’d like to see barnes try to hit me. lol.

“Oooooh he’s in my DMs.” Nat winks at you and begins typing. You roll your eyes at the glimmer in her eyes.

You look down at your phone as it chimes.

@.bbarnes:

why did you redirect Sam to Nat?

You frown, what was wrong in what you did?

@.watchingthemoonlight:

was i not supposed to?

@.bbarnes:

no just, i thought you would be interested in him. you think they’d make a good pair?

@.watchingthemoonlight:

i’m not, nat was mostly intrigued after he spoke about being able to fly a plane.

@.bbarnes:

so who gets to build blankie forts with you?

@.watchingthemoonlight:

Mr. Barnes, were you reading a private conversation?

@.bbarnes:

of course he was scared about your threat so he asked me if you had given me a hitman mission already.

You chuckle to yourself and then Nat lets out a high pitched sound.

“Abs, babes, he has abs. A-B-S.” Nat turns to the picture she just received with a shirtless picture and you revert your eyes back to James and his message.

“I’m sending him a little something. Be right back.” Nat grins and you wonder if you could ever have that kind of confidence. You shrug getting back to your conversation.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

yeah she just squealed at the picture he sent. if his reaction to her picture isn’t up to mark you have my permission to take him out.

@.bbarnes:

okay but we gotta delete evidence of you planning a hit on my friend.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

we also have to give you an alibi… video call me when you do it i’ll just say we were talking.

@.bbarnes:

so do you want to watch the hit go down or are we just making alibis?

@.watchingthemoonlight:

do you want to ruin my innocence, James?

He takes a moment to reply and the innuendo you accidentally slipped in might have been the reason. You worry your bottom lip.

@.bbarnes:

no more crime shows for you. you scare me.

doll, you might be ruining my innocence.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

steve isn’t the only meticulous planner you know, now.

also i’m only kidding about Sam, however i will ask you to punch him from my side if he messes with Nat.

maybe i am, maybe we both are.

@.bbarnes:

that punch i’ll let you watch. you know with ruining your innocence and all.

@.watchingthemoonlight:

oh so now who should be not watching more crime shows?

Sam lets out an appreciative sound at what he sees on his phone and he runs off to his room.

Steve and Bucky exchange a look and he updates you on Sam’s verbal appreciation of Natasha.

“So when are you going to stop lying?” Steve says placing down their drinks as they sit now on the kitchen island.

“What am I lying about?” Bucky raises an eyebrow.

“Oh Buck come on, you have this lovesick look whenever you see her and she is the same whenever she looks at you.” Steve taps the table for emphasis.

“Steve…” Bucky lets out an exasperated sigh, not this topic again.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You aren’t going to let a chance at being happy go. Not on my watch.” Steve warns him, snatching the phone from his hand and running off.

“Steve give me my phone right now!” Bucky yells at him, grabbing a cylindrical hard pillow to throw at the man. The pillow hits him square in the back of his head and Steve hisses at the impact rubbing the spot, “You were a sniper years ago.”

“Training never leaves.” Bucky grins and grabs the phone back.

“Why won’t you have happiness in your life man? Is it so bad to want to be with her?” Steve questions, brows furrowed and his blue eyes holding every bit of worry and concern for Bucky.

The brunette sighs, “Look, I’m all the way here, she is all the way there. How is long distance supposed to work? We’re friends now so the distance and stuff doesn’t matter. When you’re a boyfriend and girlfriend that plays a profound role. What if she likes someone? Or there is guy who can be with her and appreciate her and cherish her?”

“They wouldn’t hold a candle to you.” Steve affirms and Bucky just shakes his head and lets out a long exhale.

“Steve, I like her yes, I really, really like her. If there is a chance she likes me too then that is great. However, I cannot half ass a relationship. She’s not deserving of that half-assery. She deserves so much more than I can give here being this far away.” Bucky admits as he looks down at his palm and then at his friend who has a familiar glint in his eyes.

“What did you do?” Bucky questions, he stares down at the phone and it isn’t his.

Steve holds up Bucky’s phone and sends the recording through to you and the two of them begin their cat and mouse game again.

“She better not fucking hear that, Rogers! I can’t lose her!”

“You won’t lose her! You both will end up together!”

“How are you so sure huh? What if I get blocked?! You punk.” Bucky throws another pillow at Steve and he proceeds to catch it then throw it back on Bucky who dodges it.

“You won’t! Nat and I confirmed with each other.” Those words make Bucky stop in his tracks and gape at Steve.

“Look we just, she messaged me, about a month ago. Asking what your intentions are with Y/N. I said I’d know the intentions when Bucky would admit to having the very obvious crush. From there we knew you two are idiots who won’t admit shit out of fear of losing the other.”

“You—,” Bucky is cut off by an incoming FaceTime call from you that too an audio call. Bucky swallows and Steve answers the call, thrusting the phone into his palm.

James raises the phone to his ear, neither of you say anything.

Just two people breathing into the phone and then you let out a laugh. James can’t help but grin at the sound.

“Are you thinking what I am?” You question him.

“Yeah. We sound like the creepy horror movie trope of heavy breathing on the other line.” Bucky sits down on the floor.

Steve gives him a weird look, confess feelings why is movie trope a topic right now! He wants to yell but only messages Natasha of the non sense. She is the only one with a braincell apart from him.

“Is, is, what you said on the voice note true?” You hold your breath, and your heart stays outstretched on the palm of your hand ready to offer it to James.

“Depends on what voice note you’re talking about.” Bucky can’t help but deflect, his heart is begging to leap out of his chest and into your hands where he knows you will treasure it. He’s just so worried.

“Hmm, let me see oh yes the one where you say you really really like me, also there is something about if I like you too and that would be great. So I’m here to tell you it is great then.” You admit and wait for him to catch on.

“Doll… I, I please I know me confessing my feelings probably ruined—wait you said great.” Bucky can’t breathe, well he can but he can’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears.

“I said great.” You affirm, biting back your grin.

Bucky switches it to a video call, he needed to see your face.

“You said great?” He questions again, the most endearing look of happiness begins to overtake his features.

“I did say great, James.” You repeat not able to contain your smile any longer.

“You like me?” He question sounding breathless.

“Buddy—,” “Shut up, Steve.”

You giggle and he looks back at you through the phone.

“I really, really like you.” You confess and heat creeps across your skin.

“I really, really like you.” Bucky confesses and you can make out the pink tinge dusting his cheeks.

AN: happy pride!!!!!!! hope you enjoyed this chapter do let me know your thoughts on it!! thank you!

taglist is open! please comment or message to be tagged!

permanent tags: @stevesmewmew @pandaxnienke

fic taglist: @harry03bb @et-homephone @sebsgirl71479 @blackwidownat2814 @littleone2223 @elbell20-blog

253 notes · View notes

spookiekewchie · 3 years

Text

Let Me Upgrade You

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Steve Rogers x woc!reader

Summary: The one where you get Steve to stop dressing like a grandpa.

Word Count: 884ish

Warnings: general language warning, suggestive language, ass grabbing (idk if that’s a warning)

A/N: Don’t look at me, I was inspired so now yall gotta deal with it LMAO. I wrote this on my phone so pardon any errors or typos please I barely proofread it. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

"Steve, just trust me, you need to update your wardrobe." You called from the living room of his apartment. He was currently in the bedroom, turning this way and that in front of a mirror and he took in his appearance.

"Sweetheart, I really don't think this is necessary." He replied, finally stepping out of the bedroom so you could see him in the outfit you'd set out for him. Your eyes went wide, not expecting him to look that good in a simple white t-shirt, dog tags around his neck and resting against his broad chest. His usual casual dress pants had been traded for a pair of dark denim jeans. Not as tight as Bucky typically wore but enough that it didn't look like something a grandfather would wear.

"Babe, this is so necessary." You gave him a once over before shooing him towards the door. "Now put on the boots I got you so we can go, I'm sure everyone else is already at the bar by now.

Steve just sighed, a little smile on his lips as he got his shoes on and completed the look. He trusted you, and so far you hadn't steered him wrong. He was still religiously using the beard conditioner you'd gotten for him, after all. "Alright, final verdict?" He questioned grabbing his leather jacket and slipping on before he picked up his keys.

"Final verdict is we should leave now before I end up riding you in the doorway." You answered, bottom lip catching between your teeth at the sight of the whole look put together. Steve just chuckled, reaching out when you were close enough to palm your ass in his large hand.

"Now you know how I feel every fucking time you dress up for a night out." He whispered against your ear, voice low and gravelly as it sent a shudder through you. Clearly you'd done too good a job at getting your man right, because now all you wanted to do was text Nat and the girls that you weren't going to make it for the weekly Avengers get together at the bar.

Almost as if Steve could read your mind he was grabbing your motorcycle helmet and placing it in your hands before grabbing his own. Clearly he was going to make you suffer the same way you did him whenever you two went out together.

And suffer you did, barely able to keep your hands off him the entire time you were at the bar. Eventually though, the guys broke off to go shoot some pool. Leaving you with Maria, Natasha and Wanda as you caught up with them before deciding to play a round of darts.

It was all going so well until you noticed Natasha staring in the direction of the pool tables. You followed her gaze just in time to see Steve attempting to politely back away from some woman as she tried to hook a finger in his dog tags.

Oh hell no

You watched for a moment longer, before starting to make your way over with the girls behind you. Your eyes narrowed as she tried to press up against the super soldier who was telling her that he had a girlfriend. Close enough that you could hear her uttering something along the lines of "Well she shouldn't have let you out the house by yourself looking this good if she wanted to keep you." Clearly your plan to update Steve's closet had some unforeseen consequences. You should have accounted for desperate skanks taking it as an invitation to try their luck. No matter, you knew Steve would never step outside of the relationship, and you could deal with this tramp easily enough.

"Come on guys, you know the rules for bar night. No interviews, no drama, and no hoes." The last one was aimed directly at the woman who seemed to back off the moment you sidled up to Steve and his arm moved around you. She scoffed, clearly offended before the embarrassment had her cheeks going ruddy when she heard the snickers of Sam and Bucky behind her. You might have felt bad if she hadn't knowingly tried getting with a taken man. Instead you paid her no more mind as you let your attention shift from her to your man with a smirk.

"Relax sweetheart, she never stood a chance." Steve murmured, leaning down to press a possessive kiss to your lips. Your fingers curled into his dog tags as you pulled away, a smirk on your lips as you backed up a few steps with him in tow.

"Let's go, I'm suddenly in the mood for you to fuck me so hard all I can say is daddy." And that was all Steve needed to hear before shoving his pool cue into the stunned woman's grip so he could cage your hips with his hands. Clint choked on his beer, earning himself a hard slap to the back from Natasha as she damn near cackled.

"Sorry guys, gotta go. Duty calls." He told everyone, bright blue eyes darkening with lust as he spun you around and lifted you just enough that your feet were off the ground so he could rush the two of you out of the bar.

#steve rogers x woc!reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x woc #steve rogers x you #steve rogers reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #woc!reader #black!reader #trilla writes

401 notes · View notes

amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Broken Compass: Sakusa’s allergic reaction to Iwaizumi

pairing: sakusa x f! reader genre: parenthood fluff, romance wc: 964

a/n: part of the broken compass fic, set in the storm chaser universe

“Iwaizumi called - Kiyoomi, don’t sneer when I say his name.”

Sakusa tries his utmost best to pull his features into something a little more neutral, but it can’t be helped. Hearing Iwaizumi’s name being uttered makes his body react involuntarily - much like an allergic reaction, but instead of rashes or hives, his face just contorts into a deep, dark scowl. Never mind that it’s you, his precious wife who brings him up. Anyone who even dreams of hurting you will have to deal with him.

“What does he want”, he manages to say with a passable amount of civility.

“He’s asking me out for lunch since he’s got a bit of time before the season starts again. I was thinking of meeting him at Shimbashi, they’ve got a pretty decent sushi set lunch that I was thinking of trying.”

He shrugs. He knows full well that Iwaizumi Hajime poses no threat to his marriage, never mind that he’s an ex-boyfriend of yours, but it rankles that you’re so quick to forgive the man that smashed your heart beneath his feet. Still, that’s also one of the countless reasons he loves you, your kindness, your empathy making him fall in love with you anew every single day, so he doesn’t begrudge Iwaizumi this small part of you that still harbours some affection for him.

“Go ahead. Have fun.”

You smile at him. Someone should really learn to bottle up your smile - it makes him, an incurable grump, feel as if he could burst with happiness and contentment, like the sun rising and birds singing and nice things that normal people appreciate -

“I was thinking of bringing Sachiko along to meet him too - ”

His thoughts screech to a stop.

“Absolutely not”, he replies shortly, gathering up said toddler to his chest. Sachiko gnaws and drools on the child friendly chew toy that he spent hours researching to make sure there’s absolutely no choking hazards, no strange chemicals involved, completely unaware of the staring match conducted above her dark, downy head.

You sigh heavily. “Kiyoomi - “

“I’ll take care of her when you go out for lunch.“

“You have a work trip with Kuroo, remember?”

“I’ll cancel with him, he’ll understand - right my little firefly?” Sachiko gurgles, giggling as Kiyoomi boops her nose ever so gently. “You don’t want to meet mean, Iwaizumi-san who hurt your mama - ”

“Kiyoomi”, you sigh. “We’ve talked about this before. Yes, Iwaizumi hurt me very badly, but things happen for a reason. If it weren’t for him, we’d never have had the chance to meet, let alone fall in love, get married, have a baby - ”

Sachiko dribbles on his shoulder. He wipes it away, more bothered by the thought of your ex-boyfriend coming anywhere close to his precious firefly than a minute amount of baby spit. Motoya would be astounded. “While that’s true, I’d like to attribute our current state of happiness to Miya Kaiyo for her matchmaking attempts than Iwaizumi Hajime, considering she didn’t break your heart, unlike him - ”

“Oh Kiyoomi”, you wrap your arms around your loveable, overprotective grump of a husband. “You know there’s no downside to Hajime meeting Sachiko - he’s just an old friend now. Remember he sent those lovely baby clothes for our baby shower, and that adorable volleyball anklet for her one month celebration -

“Sachiko didn’t like it - ”

“Kiyoomi, you thought they were absolutely precious until you found out Hajime sent them, you silly thing.”

Your husband just curls around your baby girl as if he’s intent on shielding her from some unknown threat, all six foot four of him. You laugh affectionately, leaning onto your toes to press a light kiss to the nape of his neck.

“Kiyoomi, Hajime wouldn’t ever think about harming a single hair on Sachiko’s head. You know that, you’re just being obstinate about it. And if I don’t bring her for lunch, who’s going to babysit? You want me to leave her with Bokuto, when they’re just figuring out how to wean Kousuke so Mitsuki can go back to work - ”

“Bokuto might be the better choice”, Kiyoomi mutters beneath his breath.

“Sorry”, you say sweetly. “Would you like to repeat that so I can record it and send it to Bo?”

He grumbles, incoherent. “Fine”, he mumbles, though he’s still clinging to Sachiko, who’s starting tugging on his curly hair.

“What’s that?”

“Bring Sachiko to meet Iwaizumi.” He waves the white flag, recognises that he is being ridiculous, but he’ll do anything to keep his little family from any shadow of threat - more so when Sachiko, his precious little firefly is so tiny and helpless, when she depends wholly on him - oh gods his little baby girl is going to grow up one day and not need him anymore, that thought just haunts him -

“Kiyoomi”, you say his name, grasp his attention immediately. Warm palms cup his cheeks, and the familiar scent of vanilla and sugar settles him, making his fears recede. “You’re a really good dad.”

He snuffles into your hair, breathing deeply. “I’m trying my best.”

You smile again at him. It beats any sunrise in the sky, any bird song in the air. “That’s all that matters.”

Sachiko babbles, bumps her fist against her papa’s cheek like a drum. He accepts her violence with equanimity.

“Firefly, do that but harder when you meet Iwaizumi, okay? Papa gives you full permission to pull out his hair too.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi!”

“What?!”

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #haikyuu fluff #storm chaser universe #broken compass

294 notes · View notes

avintagekiss24 · 3 years

Text

—you can pretend you don’t miss me; bucky barnes

pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4049

warnings: 18+ ONLY, knife kink, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, tiny bit of blood, attempted murder

challenge: @cockslut-padalecki a decade under the influence “what if I can’t forget you? I’ll burn your name into my throat”

request: bucky barnes + “i have a feeling i’m gonna get lucky tonight” + orgasm denial

author note: surprise! it didn’t take me two months to write something sjsksjs please enjoy fic #3 of my 5/5.5k follower celebration! also another quick congrats to lisa for hitting 10k!!

inspired by this art ; gif by @zacharylevis ; line divider by @firefly-graphics ; title inspired by billie eilish bitches broken hearts

The taste of bourbon and cigarettes is on his lips and tongue as he licks into your mouth. He moans into you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as he hooks your leg right around his waist. Your back is up against the heavy door of his apartment, fingers in soft brown hair, wet lips smacking and sucking, teeth nibbling on his swollen, red bottom lip. He laughs, relaxing into your kiss and lips and teeth as he anchors your weight in his metal hand, flesh hand rummaging in his almost too tight black jeans for his door key.

There’s a smirk on your face as you pull away from him. Your lips are still touching. Foreheads resting on one another's. Eyes a little shy, only connecting for fractions of seconds before they’re on the floor or a pair of lips. The jingle of keys fills the hallway, then the thunk of one as it pushes into the slot and stops hard against the rusted metal of the lock. The deadbolt slaps back into the door and with a push of his foot, and a little help from your weight being pinned against it, the swollen door scrapes against the frame as it pops open, swinging back into the wall.

Bucky slips his hands down your sides, grips your hips tight as he starts to back you inside. They stay there, those hands, as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours and dip down to your mouth where he licks his lips and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s fantasizing about wanting to feel them again. A metal hand cups your face, his palm warm as he sweeps his thumb along your cheek.

His tongue sneaks out just before your lips meet again to tease the roof of your mouth before he grabs your top lip between his. You both inhale deep, breathing each other in, a concoction of soft and sweet and smoke and warmth.

You’re not sure who moves first, whether Bucky is pushing or you’re pulling— probably a little of both— but you’re inside of his apartment before you know it. The door slams shut. Your leather jacket slips off your shoulders and hits the hardwood floor as you back further inside.

Fingers and hands are everywhere. Yanking at shirts, popping buttons, pulling zippers as lips get more desperate. You back into a set of bar stools, knocking them around just a little as you stumble and catch yourself, throwing your head back as laughter spills from you. Bucky pushes out a breath and a small laugh while he eyes you all hungry like as he pulls at his boots.

You tease him a little, putting those feminine wiles to good use— tilt your head, twist your hair around your fingers, push your tits forward. With your shirt crumpled on the floor, the titanium bars pushed through your nipples catch the soft pink, blue, and purple lights of the neon signs pouring in through the kitchen windows through the sheer mesh bralette covering your chest.

Bucky looks a mess. Hair all over his head, pants open— the band of his Hugo Boss boxers peeking out— plain black t-shirt now in a rumpled pile on the floor. His footsteps heavy as he stalks towards you. He stops short, wraps black and gold fingers around your wrist and yanks, collecting you again to crush your soft body against his hard one.

You tilt your head up towards him, eyes turning to slits, lips brushing against his as manicured fingertips push just inside his jeans. Soft tips sweep over a rigid cock, the size making a sly smile curl onto your face. This one is full of surprises.

“Well well,” you purr, kissing him quick, wet and loud, never taking your eyes off him, “I have a feeling I’m gonna get lucky tonight.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, a breath pushing out through his nose as a lopsided grin paints his handsome face, “Aren’t you a smart girl.”

You curl your fingers around his neck, digging the tips into his messy hair and draw him in— dragging the wet velvet of your tongue over his mouth real slow, watching as his eyes close, “You, bed,” you instruct, “Me, bathroom.”

Footsteps fill the quiet, surprisingly lived-in apartment, the clicks of your heels and his heavy thumps as he pulls you towards the bed. He just points off to his left as he falls onto the mattress, resting a leaden head on a wide palm as he settles in. Eyes blinking at you slow as you disappear behind a white door.

The bathroom is immaculate. White. Sterile. Nothing out of place— very military of him. You undress slowly, removing your shoes one by one before moving on to your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a see through bra, waist high panties— and a black leather ankle holster housing your six inch, hand crafted, butterfly knife.

You lift your foot, place it on the white countertop and slip the blade from the holster before carefully, quietly undoing the straps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up a little straighter, roll your neck and shoulders as you stare back at your reflection. The pony tail comes down, silky hair falling over your shoulders and down your back— best fifteen hundred bucks you’ve ever spent on yourself.

Gotta look good on the day you finally get to kill the Winter Soldier.

With a soft flick of your wrist, the blade flips out and you can’t help but run a manicured finger over the edge, pressing the sharp point into the pad. You find yourself in the mirror again and tilt your head a little as your brain goes a little empty— except for maybe one thought.

You wanna fuck him. You’ve earned it, and regrettably so, you find Bucky Barnes sort of interesting. Funny. Engaging when prodded a bit but still somehow deadpan and aloof.

His huge cock doesn’t help matters either.

You sigh, oh well.

The door clicks as you open it and pass through. You keep your hands behind your back as your body softens— sinks into itself a little. Hair falls in your face as you feign shyness, batting big, soft brown eyes and sinking your teeth into an ample bottom lip.

Bucky took the time to get completely naked. Hard cock gripped in his flesh palm, slow drags from the base to the glistening tip.

God, you really kinda wish you could fuck this man.

“Come ‘ere.”

An outstretched metal hand accompanies the gentle beckoning. You move soft, a small sound of your feet sinking into the carpet before you reach out with your empty hand and slide it into warm metal, using the sturdy grip to hoist yourself up and over his stomach.

His hands find your hips— big, warm, manly hands. They slip upwards just a bit to grip the soft of your sides. Move down again for thick fingers to graze over your ass and tickle the backs of your naked thighs. Still, you palm the handle of your knife tight and high, in the small of your back, as you use your free hand to push the dark strands of hair out of your face.

Bucky’s eyes meet yours when his fingers push between your parted legs, finding a wet spot in those mesh panties. You inhale deep, blinking back at him as his fingers keep a sweet little rhythm back and forth against your cunt. Hips defy your brain and push forward into those fingers— wanting just a little more.

Maybe you can wait… maybe until after...

You lean forward before your brain can finish stringing the words together— you have to or you’d lose all your nerve and give into that weak devil telling you to taste the sin. Let him spread you open until it hurts. Your mouth finds his hot and swollen and you kiss him hard, so hard he groans into it. You pull back just enough to lick his mouth again, eyes bouncing between his.

“What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart? You need more of an invitation than this?” Bucky asks low and slow, pushing his cock right into your ass as his fingers creep inside your panties.

You smile, real nice and sweet before swooping the arm from behind your back to push the knife into his neck, “Oh nothing, baby,” you purr, “Just waiting for the right time to kill you is all.”

You lean back a little to see his face, tipping your head to the side. He’s pretty calm for a guy who’s minutes away from bleeding out on his own bed— but he is an assassin. Not much can shake him— should shake him.

Bucky blinks slow at you, hands coming to rest by his sides. His eyes don’t widen, pupils don’t dilate. Steady breathing stays just the same— he doesn’t even shift uncomfortably. Just blinks back at you. Slow. Easy. Without a fucking care in the goddamn world.

An angry heat blooms across your skin at his nonchalance as the seconds tick by. Your chest starts to rise and fall a little harder. Your eyes start to bounce between his as you suck your teeth in indignation, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

A blink is all you get.

“Of course you don’t,” you hiss, “Why would you? I was just one of many in the wrong place at the wrong time, right?” Your grip on the handle of the knife tightens as you push it harder against his skin— this time he swallows, “Who cares how many innocent lives you’ve destroyed as long as you got what you wanted.”

He still doesn’t say a word, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Just stares up at you as you crack, laughing angrily as you take his silence mockingly, “Well, I couldn’t fuckin’ forget you. Eight years. Eight years of living in absolute terror that you’d come back for me.” You’re seething now, eyes wild, breath coming harder and faster than the one before it, “Constantly looking over my shoulder, jumping at every bark of a dog and clink of keys and slam of a car door outside my apartment— do you know how it feels to live like that? Huh? Expecting to die every second of every hour of every goddamn day?”

Another silence drops over the room and it’s just the two of you staring at each other. You’re not even sure why he isn’t fighting back— why he’s just lying there and then it hits you, like a ton of bricks.

Of course he knows what it’s like to live like this. He’s used to it.

A trickle of blood slips down the side of his neck, the singular plop staining the white sheets below, “I’ve never thought about after— once you’re dead. What if I can’t forget you? I’ve spent so long hating you— it’s, it’s like by killing you, I’ll burn your name into my throat, you know? You’ll always just,” you tilt your head, digging the knife in a little harder, “Be there. With me always.”

The funniest thing happens as soon as the words slip through your teeth. His lips start to twitch. Curl into a smile— one where those pearly whites are on display— and then he’s laughing. Like someone just told a fucking joke.

It makes you recoil. Makes you squint and has your face twist in confusion, lips separating as a heavy breath passes through.

“Well,” he finally purrs, the laughter rumbling through his chest dying down, “Go ‘head, honey.”

When you hesitate, he pushes his chin forward, arch’s his head back to put his neck on full display, “Come on, baby. Don’t get my hopes up and not follow through.”

“You’re insane.” You hiss.

He leans up a little, another smile curling onto his lips, “In this business, you gotta be.”

The words stick in air like glue as he settles back into the pillow below his head, blue eyes twinkling underneath the soft neon lights pouring in through the windows.

He’s fucking with you. Just do it. The words echo, knocking around your brain as you stare down at him, blade still shoved into the crease of his neck. Another drop of blood plops onto the sheets below. Your lip snarls slightly, eyes narrowing as heat flashes across your skin again. He’s mocking you. After everything he’s done, all the pain— the fear.

You inhale deep, grip the handle so hard your nails dig into your palm and instinct takes over. The hatred, the built up aggression and vitriol guiding your hand, about to slash that pretty thick neck wide open. You are more than ready to see a deep red stain white sheets and blue eyes lose all of the life he’s built into them and fade away into nothingness. Just when you’re about to make your eight year long dream come true, it all flashes before your eyes.

Within a blink— half of a blink— you're off his lap, slammed up against the wall opposite the bed, warm flesh hand around your throat. You gasp hard, nearly choking on the air you can’t grab as you start to struggle, slapping at his face before swinging the knife wildly.

Bucky catches your arm with ease, squeezing your hand until you’re grunting and hissing in pain, grip relaxing around the metal. You blink again, and your knife is now pressed against your throat as you growl, struggling to no avail.

“You’re lucky baby,” he mutters, “Nobody survives that long while holding a knife to my throat.” He kisses you hard, digging his teeth into your bottom lip to drag it back with him when he pulls away, “You’re a cutie tho, so, you get a little reprieve.”

He leans back in real close, eyes roaming along your face as his head tilts, breathing easy. Staring back at him, lip curling again as you huff hard, angry breaths beating out of your nose. But your hands have come to rest on his arms. You can feel the blood coursing through the vein that’s popped out right down the center of his bicep. Your fingers flex around metal and muscle, goosebumps rising on your skin as the cool air conditioning tickles hot skin.

“Of course I remember you,” he whispers after a long time— too long, “I remember each and every face of the last seventy years,” his eyes bounce between yours, “I knew exactly who you were as soon as you popped up on that stupid dating app.”

Another sharp influx of air squeezes out of your throat when he drags the tip of your knife underneath your chin, down the length of your throat, down your chest. Slips it along your stomach before pushing it into the mesh that covers your chest. A flick of his wrist and you’re bare, the thin material giving way to the blade.

Your chest heaves, eyes wide, lips parting as the tip of that blade scrapes along your skin— right between your tits. Brown eyes drop to his red, wet lips quick, then shoot back to focus on his piercing blues.

“I wasn’t sure at first what you wanted,” he whispers, flattening the blade over a piqued nipple, clinking against the metal bar piercing your thick flesh, “If you recognized me after all this time— I mean, with the new hair and everything.”

A hum sounds at the back of your throat, trembling and airy and Bucky picks it up right away— another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The fingers around your throat peel away slowly but he watches you all the while, fire behind his eyes as he tests you.

“You’re a good little actress,” words still soft but full— maybe amazed that you were able to get as close as you did, “But you knew that already, huh?”

You swallow hard, eyes tipping down to watch his fingers drift down your arm. Light little touches, “You have to be when born— ah,” the edge of the knife catches your thick nipple as he slides it across your tit.

He kisses you again, real sweet this time though. Tongue sweeping along your bottom lip as both his encase it, “I’m sorry baby. You were saying?”

Flesh fingers dance along your stomach, sweeping from hip to hip. Just the tips. Feather light drags so you don’t forget about them. His large palm grips your hip, pushes his thumb into the meat of your side and you have to close your eyes— clear your throat to center yourself. To remember why you’re there in the first place.

Sweet breath washes over your face as Bucky rolls your left nipple now into the edge of the blade— kissing you again when you shriek at the quick, sharp pain just to eat the sound. You lose the fingers around your hip, only to find them again suddenly, jumping in slight surprise as calloused pads cup a soft, wet cunt.

Bucky’s still blinking slow, fingers pushing along a swollen clit, massaging. He’s real close now, prickly cheek rubbing against yours, teeth nibbling at your jawline.

Your own fingers dig into his biceps as your eyes flutter with the tightening of your stomach. A warmth starts to spread through your veins. Hips find a little rhythm against his hand. A sharp prick here and there as he circles that knife— your own damn knife— around your tits and back up to your throat again.

That’s when he sinks two long, thick fingers into you, not stopping until his palm is flush with your sticky folds. His thumb pressed against the sensitive little nub at the center of you.

His eyes are slits, head tilted up slightly as his mouth hangs, dragging in the air you expel. Only then does his fingers start to move, delving in and out, thumb still pushing along your clit.

“God,” you pant, pushing your head upwards against the wall, “Mmm, I can’t—” his fingers push deeper and the words are gone, like they never even existed in the first place, “Fuck.”

Bucky pushes the smooth blade against your throat just a little harder— the sharp edge forcing your chin upward a little more. He flattens his thumb against your lower stomach, starts to pull his fingers, not push them. The heel of his palm starts to slap against your skin as you buck into the motion.

Your hands slip up to his shoulders, both arms wrapping lazily around either side of his neck. The soft hum from earlier is replaced with high pitched whimpers and breathy little squeaks. Bitten off words fall from your lips as you squirm against the wall, wanting him deeper, faster, harder— which he delivers without you having to say a word.

He grabs your cheeks, pinching hard as the blade flattens across your pouty lips. A weak, desperate whimper sounds, all your resolve gone. Whatever leverage you thought you had completely wiped away— and it makes a wicked grin spread on Bucky’s lips.

“You close, baby? Hmm?” he hums, licking at your mouth again, “Oh sweet girl, you wanna come, huh? You gonna come for me?”

He strokes your clit with the tip of his thumb, your walls clenching around his fingers. The gentle encouragement continues, real soft and between sweet little kisses all over your face. A dull ache settles in your belly, a thick heat starting to stir within. Your heart leaps into your throat as your hips pump with Bucky’s hand, the release so close you can taste it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan, “‘m gonna fuckin—”

“You want it? Huh? Want me to make you come honey?”

You squeak in response, nodding fast as you bite down into your lip, “Please. Please.”

Heat ripples through your body as you start to tremble, legs going shaky and weak. Muscles start to burn all over as you tense hard, coaxing the sweet agony swirling in your stomach. You cry out, his name hanging on your lips as the rush of it all pushes higher and higher.

Just as you start to unravel, just as the coil begins to snap, his fingers are gone. Pulled from your cunt and clit. You’re whipped around his body, forced back towards the bed. Your mind racing— maybe you’ll be getting some of that cock afterall.

Or not.

Metal slaps around your wrist, bites into the skin as it clamps down, the clink of teeth sliding into the lock housing ringing in your ears. You snap your head towards the sound when it all finally connects in your murky brain. The horror of realization floods into your veins— blood running cold as your stomach drops to your feet.

The handcuffs clink against the dark metal headboard as you fight against it, “You bastard! You fuckin’ piece of shit, let me go!” you shout, thrashing your arm back and forth, pulling as hard as you can, “Goddamn it— let me the fuck go! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you bast—”

“Ooph,” Bucky jests, octave rising as he slips back into his jeans, “You got a filthy little mouth on you.”

“Fuck you!”

He scoffs, laughing gently as he pulls his black shirt back over his head. The bastard even starts to hum as he plops down on the edge of the bed, taking his time while he pushes his feet back into his boots and shrugs into his jacket.

You keep sharp eyes on him as he stands and turns to face you, dangling a pair of small silver keys next to his grinning face before he tosses them somewhere deep in the apartment. You swipe at him with your free hand as he approaches, just barely catching his chin as he kneals down, “I’m gonna kill you,” you smile, a blind rage engulfing every pore, every muscle, every ounce of your body.

Bucky shrugs, “Not tonight, sweets. Listen, tell Sam I’m sorry about the mess, hm?”

“Who the fuck is Sam?” you hiss.

He looks down at his watch, “Yeah, he should be home in about an hour. It’s not everyday you walk into your apartment to find a naked, wannabe assassin handcuffed to your bed, so, give him my apologies— wait, you know about Sam, right? The new Cap, they made it official a couple of weeks ago.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare back at his smiling face, more humiliation pouring through you as you realize he’s had you pegged the entire goddamn time.

“Oh baby,” he laughs again, “You didn’t honestly think I’d take you back to my place, did you? I don’t even know you— you kids today are so reckless.”

Blue eyes bounce between yours for a few seconds before he glances down at his hands, works them back into his black gloves. He pulls your butterfly knife from his back pocket and starts to play with it, flicking his wrist to close it, and then open it over and over again.

“I’m keeping this,” he offers as he locks it closed and slips it back into his pocket, “Maybe you’ll find the balls to try and take it from me.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head, “I’m taking it back.”

Bucky stands, the sound of his heavy boots sounding through the apartment as he moves towards the door, “I look forward to it kiddo.”

***

If there’s one thing you respect about Bucky Barnes, it’s his attention to detail.

Right on the dot, exactly one hour later, you snap your head towards the front door as keys start to jingle in the lock. With the bed sheet wrapped loosely around your torso, you straighten up against the wall, eyes wide as you watch an exhausted Samuel Thomas Wilson walk into his apartment.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouts, jumping slightly and dropping his bag to the floor when he locks eyes with you, “What in the fuck?”

“I can explain… sort of.” you start, holding up your hand.

You apparently don’t need to. Sam’s phone is to his ear within seconds as he starts to pace back and forth, “Bucky, this is not why I gave you a key to my mother fuckin’ apartment!”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #decadeundertheinfluencechallenge #5k...holy god

772 notes · View notes

msmarvelouswinchester · 3 years

Text

Call You Mine

Summary - When Y/N meets Jensen on the set of Supernatural, her life takes an unexpected turn. Never in her wildest dreams, Y/N thought that their casual friendship will change into something sinful after they shoot a risqué scene together one night.

Pairing - Jensen x Y/N, Jensen x OFC!Millie

Warnings - Angst, infidelity, mentions of guilt and despair, explicit mention of extramarital affairs, SMUT 18+ minors DNI (p in v, fingering, dirty talk), slight mention of Dom!Jensen (it's very slight), fluff, a happy ending.

WC - 3052

Square Filled - Free Space ( @supernatural-jackles' Tell Me A Story Bingo); Song Based Fic ( @spnmixedbingo )

A/N 1 - This is a submission for @tvdspngirl314's challenge. My prompt was "I met a girl, we talked, it was epic."

Also this is a submission for @negans-lucille-tblr's "7Ks of the Week Challenge" (Congratulations on your 7k)

@deangirl93's 500 followers challenge (congrats on your 500). My prompt was the song "I Can't Quit You Baby". All prompts are in bold.

A/N 2 - This is a work of pure fiction and irl I absolutely do not support the act of cheating in a relationship. No hate towards the Ackles fam. I love Danneel and for the sake of the fic, Jensen is married to an OFC and not Dee.

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thanks, hon <33)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I can't quit you baby

So I'm gonna put you down for awhile

I said I can't quit you baby

I guess I gotta put you down for awhile

“Jensen...” The name rolled off her tongue effortlessly as the man’s fingers danced across her bare skin, his electrifying touch leaving Y/N breathless, panting and begging for more. The very touch of his that had started it all.

Everyone always expressed how being in love was the most exhilarating feeling in the world, but no one ever spoke about the perils of being in love with a person who already belonged to someone else. The ring on Jensen's finger served as a wistful and painful reminder of that.

As soon as the doors had closed, the actor had backed up Y/N against the elevator, letting her see the need in his eyes. His hands had sneaked behind her, his fingers entangling with the strands of her hair, completely messing the hairstyle she had pulled off for the m&g panel in the evening. Her hands landed on his biceps, trying to steady herself. Their lips moulded together so perfectly as if they were made for each other, but it pained Y/N to think that she was nothing but his dirty mistress.

Their relationship, if she could even call it one, was all about clandestine meets, stolen stares and subtle touches. Jensen was like a drug for her and she was high on the thrill of being with him even if he was gone in the morning, leaving her behind with nothing but guilt.

Jensen had closed the door of the suite behind him as they stepped into Y/N’s room together. With lips swollen from their heavy makeout in the elevator, he wasted no time as she found herself pinned to the wall by the actor's strong hands. In the fairly lit room, she noticed his wedding band was now missing. Y/N knew Jensen and his wife's relationship was on the rocks even before she had started to work on the SPN set. Which was also the reason why few months ago, the hide-and-seek between them and the hungry paps with cameras had started.

Hands on her hips, Jensen had pulled her close on the set, more than the director demanded it. That night, he had found himself standing inside her trailer, after the fated shot. The heart wants what it wants and just as the saying went, they had given in to their burning desires. In a moment of weakness, Jensen had broken off every single one of his vows and destroyed any hope of salvaging his relationship with his estranged wife.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jensen ripped her blouse off, unhooking her bra quickly, barely containing his eagerness before stepping out of his own jacket. Y/N clutched at the ends of the counter, knocking off the magazines lying on top of it and draping her other arm around Jensen's firm body. He delicately cupped her face as his mouth devoured hers. She could taste the mint and coffee on his lips feeling his teeth graze roughly against her, making her moan into him. The actor pushed her legs apart with his knees and stood close between her thighs as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth.

In desperate need of air, they momentarily separated before Jensen dipped his head down again, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down her neck. Y/N’s legs buckled under his hypnotic touch when his mouth found her pulse point and she supported herself against his body. Jensen's hands moved down to her breasts, kneading them. His fingers caressed her hard nipples before his mouth latched onto one sensitive bud.

“Jay, please-” Y/N could only form two words as Jensen flicked her nipple while his fingers worked on the other one, spurring her on. Words weren't quite necessary, cause the man knew exactly what she needed. He knew her every tic, her every emotion like the back of his hand and Y/N was aware of that fact as well. No one could ever worship her body like he did.

Jensen was still wearing the black polo shirt, his noticeable bulge painfully straining in his jeans. She felt her wetness dampening the fabric of her panties as she thrusted her hips forward in need of some friction, her heated core brushing against his bulge.

Pulling apart for a second, Jensen’s viridian eyes studied her as his hands sneaked under her skirt. He watched her intently as she sucked on her bottom lip, closing her eyes when his fingers grazed past her soakedpanties.

A moan escaped her wet lips when Jensen's fingers hooked themselves with the waistband and in one swift pull, got rid of the panties. It quickly glided down her legs, pooling at her feet. He teased her by flicking at her bundle of nerves, making her lean her head back against the wall.

Y/N swayed on her feet a little, her hold on his shoulders tightening as she finally felt her legs give away when his fingers rubbed circles on her clit.

“Fuck-” she panted as he pushed a single finger inside her.

“Have you been thinkin’ about me all day?” Jensen leaned towards her ears, his scruff grazing across her neck. Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice, eyes still squeezed shut in sheer ecstasy.

“Sweetheart, use your words.” He ordered as his finger curled inside her.

“Yeah-fuck, yes.” Jensen kissed below her ear, smirking against her skin when she obediently answered him.

“I have been thinkin’ about you too, counting down the hours till I could get you alone.” He whispered against her neck. She mewled at the feeling of him adding another finger, his thick digits stretching her out as they curled inside her. “That little dress wasn't helping either.”

“Uh-huh,” she could feel the coil inside her tightening as his finger worked their way inside her, his thumb rubbing at her folds and clit, edging her on.

“I have thinkin’ all day about you clenching around my fingers and then my cock-” his words had an immediate effect as she clenched around his fingers as he kept pumping into her, “you've thinkin’ about that too, huh?” Y/N nodded again.

“What did I say? Words.” His other hand travelled down her body, stopping at her stomach and he pinched at her waist. “Words, baby.”

“I-I have been thinki-” Y/N panted when she realised she was close to her climax. Jensen picked up his pace and pumped his fingers faster into her, brushing past her g-spot over and over again.

When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,

You know it hurts me deep down inside

When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,

You know it hurts me deep down inside

Oh, when you hear me, honey, baby,

You know you're my one desire

“Lemme say it, sweetheart. I know you've been thinking how I would make you come on my fingers, how my dick is gonna fill you up, make you come all over me. Don't lie.” Jensen's every assumption was right to the dot. She had been thinking of everything to the last detail since the moment she watched him get out of his car, right outside of the convention building. But there was another thought on her mind, the image of him pushing her against one of the counters of his empty brewery a few weeks ago with him buried deep inside her.

That was the last she had seen Jensen before the convention as he had gone back home to his wife.

His wife.

The one woman he had promised to be with in sickness and health, till death do them apart. Guilt clouded Y/N’s mind but all rational thoughts flew out of the window when he lowered his head, kissing the neck and the coil inside her finally snapped.

With a cry of his name, she came undone on his fingers, her legs finally giving away but Jensen's hold prevented her from toppling over. He pulled his fingers out as she whimpered at the feeling. His digits still covered in her juices, Jensen pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere in the room. Y/N panted, trying to come down from the high but she wanted more. She needed to feel him.

“Y/N-” Jensen rasped, looking right at her with lust blown eyes. Y/N smacked her lips at the sight of his freckled, toned body.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He smirked as Y/N eagerly reached out for his belt buckle.

“Uh-huh.” She agreed. Jensen bit back a moan when she reached out to palm his bulge. He threw his head back at the feeling of her hand on his erection through his jeans.

“It has been weeks-” Jensen said, clearly hinting at their last time together at the brewery. He quickly unbuckled his belt, pushing down his jeans along with his boxers, his erection springing free from its confines.

“Baby, it has been weeks since I felt your tight pussy wrapped around me. Fuck.” Y/N looked at him with hooded eyes and wrapped her fingers around his length, running her palm along its shaft and her thumb rubbed the tip of his cock, already lined with beads of precum. Jensen hiked her skirt up, pushing her hands away and gave his hard cock a few slow strokes. He nudged her sensitive core with his swollen tip, all while pulling out sweet, sinful noises out of her.

“Jay,” he loved hearing her needy moans, her voice raspy when she called out his name. His hands grabbed her ass and picked her up. Hooking her legs and arms behind him, with her back still firmly pushed up against the wall, Jensen lined himself with at her entrance.

Grunting, he pushed himself into her and wrapped his arms around her body. Y/N’s mouth fell open with an inaudible moan at the feeling of his cock stretching her out. Jensen placed a chaste kiss on her lips as he let her adjust to his size before slowly pulling out of her, leaving only the tip of his engorged cock inside, and pushed back in again, much deeper than before.

Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him close as she bucked up her hips to match his rhythm. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Jensen grunted as he started to thrust faster.

Y/N whimpered, her eyes fluttering close as Jensen snapped his hips forward before slowly drawing them back. With every thrust, she inched closer to her release as their breathing became ragged. The actor’s skin was flushed, his cheeks turning a bright red with beads of sweat lining his forehead as he felt her clench around her. Her nails dug into his back as the coil inside her tightened.

“‘M so close,” she whispered, as he continued to mercilessly pound into her.

“Cum around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you all over me-” Jensen growled into her ears, tugging on her earlobes with his teeth and his breath tickled her neck, making her quiver. Jensen had an effect on her that no one ever had. Sometimes, she would say to herself that Millie was a really lucky woman who got to have Jensen all the time and not just on convention weekends and sneaky nights spent in his empty brewery or a trailer park.

And Y/N was the one who was ruining their relationship. A home-wrecker. The tabloids would rightfully call her that if they ever found out about their twisted relationship.

“Jensen, fuck-” a cry of pure ecstasy left her lips as the coil inside her snapped once more and she felt herself coming undone for the second time that night. Jensen's thrust had become sloppy. He rocked his hips forward, thrusting a few more times. Burying his face in the crook of her neck a muffled scream of her name escaped his lips as he spilled into her, his white, hot seed coating her walls.

He lazily circled his hips a few times, his cock becoming soft inside her before he pulled out of her. His cum trickled down her leg, when he set her down, Y/N felt herself go weak in her knees when she tried to stand.

“Hi,” Jensen smiled, their eyes meeting, before he leaned forward.

“Hi.” Y/N whispered back. They stood together, holding each other closely with their foreheads touching. Guilt seeped into her and so did despair but she didn't regret any moment they spent together.

“Let me clean up the mess,” Jensen said.

“I'm gonna hop into the shower.” She said, holding out the hope that he would join her but he didn't.

“Alright.” It was all he said. Dejected, she pulled away from him and made her way towards the shower. All she wanted was to spend every single minute with him before he went back to his room to keep up the facade of his happily married life.

In the shower, Y/N thought about the day she had first met Jensen when she was a newbie on the set and reflected back on their rollercoaster of a relationship. There was an instant connection between them. Jensen was always such a gentleman. He truly cared for her, but love... she didn't know if even the idea of love existed between them or if she was just an affair.

She stepped out of the bathroom and saw that Jensen was now In his boxers. He gave her a nod and moved past her into the bathroom. A sad smile formed on her lips as she watched him walk away. She put on a comfortable pair of pjs and crawled into the bed, under the covers, waiting for the exact moment when Jensen stepped out of the bathroom and put on his clothes. And just like every other time, she would watch him leave after he kissed her forehead and told her he doesn't have a choice.

This time though, it was going to be different.

Y/N didn't want Jensen to leave, neither did she want to watch him go so she squeezed her eyes shut, adamant of not responding when he walked up to her.

She flinched when he heard the bathroom door shut. She counted down the minutes till the goodbye kiss but instead she felt the other side of the bed dip down with a familiar weight. Opening her eyes, she felt his hand wrapping around her waist. Jensen was in her bed. She turned to face him.

He was breathing slowly. His long lashes rested against his cheek and his freckled face reflected the look of absolute contentment.

Said you know I love you baby

My love for you I could never hide

Oh, you know I love you baby

My love for you I could never hide

Oh when I feel you near me little girl

I know you are my one desire

“You're staring.” He whispered.

“You're staying.” She replied back, making his beautiful eyes flutter open.

Pursing his lips together, he said, “Do you not want me to?”

“No-I mean, yes. Stay…But, what about Jared?”

“What about him?” He scrunched up his face in confusion.

“What if he finds out about us?” Y/N asked as she panicked. Hiding this relationship from Jared was the hardest task. He was like a brother to Jensen so he didn't want to lie to him but it was important to keep him in the shadows.

“Let him find out. I don't care anymore-”

“Jensen!” Y/N exclaimed. She didn't understand what was going on in his mind.

“It's okay, Y/N.” He said.

“How is it okay?”

“Millie and I are over. I finally ended it.”

Her mouth fell open in complete surprise. Of everything she had expected, this was the last thing she was anticipating to hear. “Our relationship was long dead anyway. We have separated. I'm filing for a divorce once I go back home this week.” Y/N would lie if she said that the thought of him choosing her over his wife had never crossed her mind.

“It's all because of me, isn't it-”

“No. No, sweetheart. We were already over even before I met you. I was just too scared to admit it to myself but then I met a girl, we talked. It was epic and the thought of losing her scared me more than anything else.” Jensen caressed her cheek, a gentle smile gracing his lips. He felt a burden being lifted from his shoulders. He could finally be with the woman he truly loved.

“Does this mean no more hiding?” She said, tears pooled in her eyes. Y/N needed to hear him say it now that she could shout it from the rooftops Jensen belonged to her, and she to him.

“Being with you made me realise what I was missing. All this while, I wasted my time trying to work on a dead relationship when I should have realised sooner that it was a lost case. That you are the one I want 'cause baby, I can't quit you. Millie and I would have never worked out no matter how many couple’s therapy we went to….I have never regretted a single moment I have spent with you. I love what we have. I love you.” Her breath hitched in her throat as she took in everything he said. Her mind was reeling from his sudden declaration. A single tear rolled down her cheek, as the corners of her lips tugged up, forming a smile but she was too overwhelmed to say anything, which Jensen took the wrong way and it scared him.

“Y/N-” his smile disappeared as his hand dropped from her cheeks, “I want you to be mine. Will you be mine?” Y/N immediately moved towards him. Her hands raked through his soft hair before she pulled him in for a longing kiss.

“I didn't even realise when I became yours but I know it happened at some point, Jay. I love you so much.” Y/N said. With smiles and their eyes sparkling with newfound happiness, they stayed in bed as Y/N nuzzled into his side. Jensen's warm hands were wrapped around her and she smiled against his chest. For the first time, the fear of losing Jensen didn't cross her mind because she knew he would stay with her that night and all that would follow. She was going to wake up with him by her side and didn't have to sneak behind anyone's back anymore.

She was happy and in love and so was Jensen.

Feedback is highly appreciated!

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x you #SPNMixedBingo #bees7ksoftheweekchallenge #allyswritingevent #deangirl93s500followerscelebration #TellMeaStoryBingo #jensen x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles angst

388 notes · View notes

late-to-the-party-81 · 3 years

Text

Checkmate Ch1

AN: Welcome all to my long fic - 64kish in total. Not bad for a one-shot idea? This fic has been on AO3 since late summer last year, but I decided to copy it properly over to here. I will be releasing chapters every day or so, but this fic is completed, so have no fear.

This series is set six month post Blip, in an AU where Loki survived Thanos' attack but was a victim of the Snap.

This series is not beta'd. Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Mood-board by me, but all photo credits to those who took them.

Are you ready to meet our OFC, Chess?

Series Master list

CW: Angst, Fluff, Pet names, Swearing, Cheating, Mild descriptions of sex acts, The Blip, Toxic relationship (mentioned)

Chapter Word Count: 3k

Chess stumbled as she ran through the building doors and out onto the street. She bent over, hands on her jeans-clad thighs, drawing in sharp, ragged breaths. The sights and sounds from the last few minutes playing on a loop in front of her eyes.

“Fuck.”

The expletive left her lips vehemently, but quietly. She took a few steps to the side and sagged against the rough brickwork. Head tipped back, eyes screwed shut, silent tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Fuck”, she repeated and tried to get control of her breathing, her head spinning with emotion.

She jumped as a hand reached out to touch her on the arm.

“Excuse me miss, are you alright?”

A silky voice pierced her thoughts. Chess’s eyes sprung open to be captured by the most amazing eyes she’d ever seen. A shifting green-blue, one moment the colour of grass in summer, the next the dark blue of stormy oceans. Eyes she could get lost in.

“Chess! Wait!”

A shout from the doorway caused her to whip her head around. Her gaze fell on Max, jogging bottoms and a t-shirt hastily thrown on, feet bare, short brown hair pointing up in all angles. Tousled. Rage flowed up inside her, pushing the other emotions to the side. She shoved away from the wall, the gentle hand on her arm and those incredible eyes all but forgotten. She took a few shaky steps forward.

CRACK!

Her hand connected with his cheek.

“No!” she shouted, “I will not wait! What the actual fuck Max? ‘The fuck?”

The young man’s mouth opened and closed impotently, searching for the right words.

“It….”

“It’s what, Max? It’s not what it looks like? Don’t….give…me…that…shit!”

The last words were punctuated by shoves against his chest, pushing him back towards the apartment building.

“How long, huh? How long? A couple of weeks? Months?”

At least he had the decency to look at the floor.

“Since before I ‘blipped’ back?”

Oh no! He was lifting his face to look at her, something akin to an apology on his face, and horror started to replace the anger within her.

“No, Max, no, no, no. She’s not the ‘other’ woman is she? I am!”

She staggered back to the wall, again.

“You were gone for five years, Chess, I’m only human. I thought you were dead. I grieved for you.”

His excuses felt pitiful to her ears, and anger flashed in her eyes, getting the upper hand in her internal emotional struggle.

“You know what? That’s fine, I can understand. What I can’t understand is the fact that when I returned, all lost and confused, you decided that you wouldn’t tell me that interesting fact. You told me that you loved me, for fuck’s sake. Helped me find my own flat, so I could have space to adjust. Hah!”

A bitter laugh escaped her throat, frustrated by her own naivety.

“You wanted to have your fucking cake, and eat it? Your ex-girlfriend, returned from the dead, vulnerable. Not knowing which way was up, still thinking she was the love of your life. Well, fuck you, Max, fuck you. At least both she and I now know what you are really like.”

Pushing off the wall again, she dusted her hands down her jeans and flicked her wavy auburn hair over her shoulder.

“I’d wish you a nice life, but I’d be lying.”

Then she spun on her heel and walked away, taking the first steps towards her future.

The man with the green-blue eyes watched her go, watched how her body radiated the strength it had found in response to the obvious betrayal. Those eyes narrowed as he realised the young man had run back inside the building, probably to try and placate the woman who was still inside. Betrayal. He knew that feeling well. He knew the strength it gave you. However, he also knew about the crash to come. But it wasn’t his problem was it? He continued on his walk, shoulder-length ebony hair ruffled in the breeze. Definitely not his problem.

Chess wasn’t sure how she’d made it back to her flat, but she did. She slammed the door shut, threw her handbag onto the floor by the entrance table and staggered into the living area, where she collapsed on the sofa, finally giving in to her spiralling emotions. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks to splash on her clothes, and the cries coming from her mouth were like those of a wounded animal. She felt like such a fool. How had she not seen the signs?

She remembered when she’d ‘blipped’ out and back. She’d been standing in the kitchen in Max’s, no, her and Max’s, apartment on the other side of the city, preparing dinner and laughing with each other, when she had started to feel dizzy, disconnected.

She’d tried to grab onto the counter to steady herself, but her hand had felt fuzzy, full of pins and needles. She had looked down and watched as her hand started to disintegrate. She remembered thinking that it was rather odd. And then it all went black and there was nothingness. A nothingness that seemed to stretch on for eternity, but at the same time was over in an instant, as her vision cleared and she was finally able to grab hold of the worktop and stave off the feeling of disorientation.

But something was wrong. It had been early evening a moment ago. Now it was pitch black, the middle of the night, but there were shouts and screams from down in the street, the sounds of cars braking hard and crashing into objects.

Where was Max? She had turned, calling out his name. The bedroom door had been thrown open and he had run into the dining/kitchen area in a pair of boxers, a look of shock and disbelief on his face. He’d grabbed her in his arms, crying and shaking, repeating the words “you’re back, you’re back” over and over.

He’d explained, as best he could about what had happened, about how a power hungry alien from another world had decided to erase half the life in the galaxy, how he had watched her body drift apart, atom by atom. About the fact that this had happened five years ago! She’d found it hard to comprehend, but he had switched on the news, breaking reports on every channel about how people were reappearing all over the world, and she could see the date and time on the screen.

Two days after her return and he had suggested that maybe, whilst they were both adapting, it would be a good idea for have her own place. That maybe they should slow the pace of their relationship back down. Still trying to comprehend and make sense of everything that was happening, she had agreed, and within a week a place had been found for her at a complex not, far away.

Over the following month she had reconnected with aunts, uncles and cousins, some of whom were ‘returned’, like her. Her parents had died a few years previously and she was an only child. She’d also reconnected with her friends, a small group who she had come to know through Max. And, then, to her relief she had found a job, ironically carrying out administration work that was required to sort out the sudden doubling of the population after the 5 year hiatus.

She got on well with her colleagues, although she hadn’t really seen much of them outside of work, Max encouraging her to just reconnect with the people she had known before, the people who knew her best. All had been good.

She’d decided to surprise him at his apartment today, because she’d felt that she was is in the right frame of mind to move back in, now feeling more settled. She’d been let into the building by one of the other tenants, and then, for some reason, instead of knocking on the door, she had retrieved the spare from the key safe outside the front door.

She had walked in and stopped short, because, there, on the sofa, eyes closed and head tipped back, was a woman with long dark hair. Naked. With Max’s face between her thighs. She didn’t recall making a noise, but she must have, because the woman had looked up, letting out a shriek herself and grabbing the sofa throw to cover herself. Max had spun around and looked up; had called her name as she had run down the stairs and out onto the street, hands clamped over her mouth, trying not to vomit.

Now his behaviour made sense. How he was always organising to meet her at her flat and not his, because he was already in the area, or he was working late and couldn’t come over as planned, how his friends kept her occupied in the pub when Max was running behind for meet ups. They must have been in on it, the bastards. But now she knew, and now she had to work out how to move forward.

The next morning found her gritty eyed and sore throated. Chess was lying on the sofa in her jogging bottoms and t-shirt, DVD cases for various action movies lying open around the TV stand, and an abandoned, but empty, Haagen Daaz tub with spoon on the floor by her feet. She’d always been a practical person, so she got up, tidied the mess and headed to the shower.

She wasn’t feeling as bad as she thought she might this morning. It was Sunday, and she had no plans. But she didn’t want to dwell. She knew if she just sat on her own all day she’d just go crazy, replaying everything in her head. A couple of hours in the gym would sort her out for a bit, and then she could just go from there. She cut her shower short – not point in washing her hair to only have to do it again after the gym. She threw on some gym leggings, sports bra, muscle tee and trainers, chucked some toiletries and a change of clothes into her gym bag and headed out.

She started her work out on the treadmill. By no means a fitness fanatic, (she was too much a fan of sleep and good food), she still liked to feel as though she was taking some care of her body. She decided to push herself to see if she could manage 2 miles in 15 minutes, not outside the realms of possibility if she kept her concentration.

She popped her ear phones in and started out steady, increasing the speed over the first few minutes until she came up to her natural pace. She stared out of the floor to ceiling window in front of her, imagining she was running away, across the surface of the earth, across the sea, to a new land. She didn’t quite manage 15 mins, but was happy with 16:45, still a PB.

She stepped down, grabbed her towel and water bottle. Time for some arm work, she thought, stepping towards the free weights. She tipped her head back to take a swig from her bottle. And collided with something. Or rather, someone.

“Oof, I’m so sorry….”

She tailed off as she looked up into a pair of eyes. The same amazing eyes she’d seen yesterday.

“No need to apologise,” that silky voice replied “I should’ve been looking where I was going as well. We’re both equally to blame.”

Chess took a step back, dragging her eyes from his, to take him all in. And wow! Taller than her, not difficult when you are 5ft4, lean and muscular, without being bulky, shoulder length raven hair, just right for running fingers through – stop it stop it, pale skin and pink lips turned up into a charming smile that reached those glorious eyes, making them twinkle with mischief. He had on loose black gym shorts and an emerald green tank tee, and he made it look damn good.

“If it isn’t a rude observation, I’d like to say that you are looking a lot better than you did yesterday.”

She flushed slightly.

“Yeah…um…thanks…not my finest public moment. Sorry I didn’t thank you at the time.”

“Again, no need to apologise. From what I gathered, your outburst appeared to be entirely justified.”

He paused for a moment.

“You appeared to be pretty mad.”

“To be honest, I still am. But anyway, I’ll…erm…head over to the weights now, time for an arms workout.”

She went to walk past him, but he placed a hand lightly on her forearm, as he had the day before, although this time his fingers met bare skin. It felt like lighting, warming her insides and leaving her all tingly. She had to concentrate on what he was saying.

“Instead of the weights, how about some boxing instead, help you work out your anger?”

He dipped his head closer to hers and in a lower voice added “It might feel good….”

A shiver ran through her body as she turned to look at him, caught again in his gaze. She swallowed hard. Part of her brain was telling her this wasn’t a good idea. She ignored it.

“Um, yeah, that sounds like a plan. The sparring room is over there.”

She walked towards the glass fronted room at the end of the main gym area, and pushed open the door. A sandbag hung from the ceiling and racks along the wall held a selection of gloves and pads. She grabbed a pair of gloves in her size and put them on, using her teeth to tighten the strap on the second one. Mr Amazing Eyes picked up a pair of pads, slipping his hands into them. The mischievous smile returned. Had it ever left?

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He raised his hands up and chuckled as she smacked her hands together within the gloves.

He couldn’t believe he’d run into her again, two days in a row. And he couldn’t deny that bumping into her when she had got off the treadmill had been somewhat intentional. He felt a pull to her, although he didn’t know exactly why. A yearning for her to notice him. She looked like some kind of ethereal creature with her fiery hair, light blue eyes and rosy skin. She wasn’t tall, but she carried herself as though she was, full of confidence. And her body. Not skinny, but not overly large either.

He tried to push images of exploring it to the back of his mind. She’d obviously broken up with her boyfriend the day before, and having to deal with the heartbreak and betrayal. Despite what his brother and his friends may sometimes think, he wasn’t a complete monster, eager to try and take advantage of any situation for his own gain. Not with something like this anyway. He didn’t try to kid himself that his suggestions of boxing was entirely altruistic. It would undoubtedly help her find an outlet for her emotions, but it did give him an opportunity to be nearer her, study her. Try and work out what spell she had put him under. And, admittedly, watch her body move, watch her lips part as she breathed, watch the soft bounce of her breasts under her top.

She jabbed forward to make contact firmly with the first pad, then followed it up with a quick one-two. But he could tell she wasn’t putting all her effort into it.

“You’re not trying, ildflue. You won’t hurt me. Again, harder!”

She responded by raising an eyebrow and hitting at the pads again. She bounced gracefully on her toes, her strikes increasing in frequency and ferocity. And then she began to mutter under her breath, initially too silent for him to make out, but getting progressively clearer.

“Fucker! Absolute wanker!”

He had to smile at the inventiveness of her curses.

“Twat face! Bollocks!”

His smile started to straighten out as she became more erratic, now driven by rage, as she had been yesterday. Then he realised that he couldn’t stay still, he was having to take small steps backwards. He hadn’t been prepared for this; not many people could make him lose his ground. And then with a primal scream she did something entirely unexpected. She spun and executed a round-house kick to the pads, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor. He stared at her, open-mouthed, as she sunk to the floor, tears pouring out and sobs racking her body.

He felt like he was being torn in two, watching her. He could feel her heartbreak as if it was his own, and part of him wished he could just fix it for her. He stripped the pads from his hands and scooted across the floor, gathering her into his arms. She was so lost in her grief she didn’t argue or pull away. He rocked her gently, stroking the crown of her head.

“Shhhhhh, little one, it’s okay. Let it out. He didn’t deserve you. You are too bright, too fiery for him.”

He didn’t know why he had said those words. She slowly quietened and stilled, and as she did so, he softened his grip and slowly put space between them. She had allowed the intimacy of the embrace in her emotional state, but as she regained control he wanted to lessen any feeling of embarrassment.

She kept her eyes focussed on the floor, as she used her teeth to loosen the straps of her gloves. Discarding them, she grabbed her towel, and ran it over her face. Then standing, she placed the gloves in the bin to be cleaned and walked slowly towards the door. As she took hold of the handle, she turned and gave him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

Her voice was small.

“I seem to be making a habit of embarrassing myself in front of you.”

She hesitated for a moment, before raising her chin, pulling herself up.

“I’m Francesca, by the way. Or Chess to most folk.”

His face broke into a broad smile.

“Nice to meet you, Francesca. I’m Loki.”

Chapter 2

#loki fic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #loki fanfic #loki angst #loki fluff #loki x ofc

53 notes · View notes

boxofbonesfic · 2 years

Note

I wanna write a fic about a comedian!reader just making jokes at the expense of Cap and she gets some good burns in and the reader doesn’t realise that he’s there with Sam or Bucky in the back and he’s just fuming. And then when her set is over, he confronts her either by following her home or just in the dressing room 🤤 also this is totally free for anyone willing to write it btw, I never see comedian!reader fics.

Title: Last Laugh

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Comedian!Reader

Summary: Your jokes land you in some hot water with their subject–Captain America. Turns out, America’s golden boy’s a bit of a bully–and you kind of like it.

Warnings: Mean Steve, Sub!Reader, Smut, Light BDSM, Semi-public sex, MINORS DNI

A/N: omg i wasn't expecting all of this to come from the relatively short idea i had in my head, but uh. things happen lol. i hope you all enjoy! divider by @firefly-graphics!

“Capscicle is definitely the right way to describe him,” you say conspiratorially, like you’re whispering to the audience through the microphone. They laugh, of course. They’re eating it up, the audience erupting into low laughter right on cue. Even that is appropriate, it’s not the big laugh, the one that’s meant to buy you time to take a drink of water, maybe a few breaths between jokes if you’re lucky.

“They defrosted that guy what, like five, six years ago now, right?”

Steve clenches his fists.

This is the third show of yours he’s seen. The first was at a benefit–he doesn’t remember for what, something Tony organized–and he’d laughed along good naturedly and thought no more about it. Until Sam showed him the youtube video of your latest cold open for a larger comedian. You’d ribbed all of the Avengers, sure; they were hot gossip, always a crowd pleaser. But you seemed to enjoy digging at him especially, dropping hit after hit, and all of them at his expense.

“Captain white America.” You say, rolling your eyes. “No, no, I like, him, I do, he’s a nice guy. I met him, you know.”

He’s made sure to wear a hat, glasses. Still no facial hair, but it’s enough that no one recognizes him. No one’s expecting the butt of your jokes to be sitting in the audience, jaw clenched and lips pursed. Steve can take a joke–he can take a lot of jokes–but your lighthearted ribbing doesn’t feel so lighthearted, not when–

“So like… between you and me, guys… how many women d’you think have gotten, like, to see the shield up close, you know what I mean?” You wink, and the audience erupts into laughter. You hold the mic out towards the audience, and to Steve’s chagrin, people actually begin answering.

“Ten!”

“Twelve!”

“Five!”

You nod along encouragingly for a few seconds before you shake your head and screw your pretty face into a disbelieving scowl.

“Y’all buggin’, you know it’s none.”

There’s only a single beat of complete silence before raucous laughter erupts across the crowd, their disbelief, your delivery–it’s perfect. They laugh for a few minutes, and you, on cue, walk over to the stool that your glass of water rests on and take a deep sip.

“No, no, you know it’s none! Mister straight laced? Fucking? I can’t see it, I’m sorry. No, you know who fucks? The guy with the metal arm. I know he fucks.” This one earns you another loud round of laughter as Steve fumes silently. He’s taken great care to maintain a good reputation since he’s been back. There had been a time when standing up for one’s country was an unimpeachable act–now, apparently, it is fodder for the drivel that passes for comedy these days.

“The guy with the metal wings? Oh my god.” You stumble dramatically, and hold your hand tightly to your chest like you’re going to pass out. “He lays it down. I know it.” You look out over the audience and shake your head one last time. “But Cap? I’m not buying it. That man wears tightie whities. That is a man who is in the gym not because he wants to be, but because he needs to be. There’s nothing. Else.” You blow out a breath.

“I rest my case.”

The audience laughs again, and you give them a cheerful salute, your plump lips turning up into a bright smile.

“Thank you guys, it’s been a blast! Stay tuned for the main event, I hope you all have a good night!” They clap loudly and readily for you, and you give another little bow before slipping backstage. Steve is already standing up from his seat, shuffling over to the bar to keep you in sight. There’s a door behind the curtains, and with the flurry of activity on set, he manages to slip behind it, stepping into the long concrete hallway. There are a couple of doors, one clearly meant for the main act, closed, though he spies shapes moving under the door and hears the low murmur of speech when he presses his ear to it.

The other door is slightly ajar, and when he peers through the crack, he sees you sitting in an armchair as you toe off the red sneakers on your feet. You’re holding a phone to your ear, chatting in a quiet voice to someone on the other line.

“No, no, I think it actually went really well. Yeah, I’m excited to see you guys too, mom.”

Steve knocks on the doorframe, rapping his knuckles against it hard. He’s had weeks to stew in it, watching clips of your shows online as you dig at him. Tony and Sam tell him to take it all in good stride, and he’d certainly given it the old college try. But there was just something he couldn’t abide; maybe it was your smug fucking attitude, or the shit eating grin that graces your pouty lips after every jab–he doesn’t know. What he does know, is that it makes him want to put you in your place.

Tonight’s show especially.

Steve enjoys the surprised squeak you emit when you tug the door open fully, muttering a hushed “gotta go” to your mother, shoving the phone into your pocket.

“Mr.--”

“Steve.” He replies, taking off the glasses and shoving them into the pocket of his jacket. “Or Capscicle. Whichever you like.” You wince.

“Please. Why don’t you come in,” you say, stepping aside to allow him into the small dressing room. It’s clear you’re a little embarrassed, but it isn’t enough. It isn’t an apology.

Not yet.

He doesn’t sit down, leaning against the sparse vanity with his muscular arms crossed. Steve knows he’s big, intimidating. He’s counting on it. You shrink

“I take it you were, um. In the audience.”

Steve nods. “Oh yes, sweetheart. The whole time.” He cocks his head at you as his lip curls. “You know, in my day, it was just plain inappropriate to talk about a person in public like that.”

You swallow thickly, and his eyes track the movement. The skin of your throat looks soft, almost as soft as your lips as you sink your teeth anxiously into them.

“I… I–I know I can make some, er, raunchy jokes, but–”

“You think you’re funny?” He asks, leaning forward. You look like you want to melt into the chair, and you cast a furtive glance up at him.

“S-sir–”

He’s not sure why that sends a jolt through him, his cock throbbing in his pants. Something about the way you’re peering up at him through your lashes nervously as you fidget. He wants to hear it again.

“Oh look. You can be respectful,” he sneers, and when you look up at him with misty eyes, he has to shift so that you don’t see the outline of his cock beginning to press against the seam of his pants. “Amazing.” He can tell you’ve never been confronted over something you’ve said before, maybe it’s given you false confidence that no one ever would.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, looking down at your hands. You shift subtly, the movement so slight that Steve wouldn’t have seen it if he wasn’t paying such close attention. You squeeze your thighs together, your hands clenching on your jeans, and Steve’s eyes widen just a fraction at the sight.

Enjoying it. She’s enjoying it. You look away towards the door. And she hates it.

“What was that?” Steve leans forward dramatically, holding his hand up to his ear. “Couldn’t quite hear you, doll.” Fuck, it’s hot to watch you grit your teeth before pouting up at him. “One more time.”

“I’m sorry.” You hiss, pressing yourself further down into the chair. “Happy now?”

“No.” Steve inspects his nails. “I don’t think you really mean it.” You squirm, and he just knows your inner thighs are soaked. He can practically smell it. “Let’s try it again. A little more sincerity, sweetheart. Get on your knees, I think that would be fitting.”

Your eyes widen, flicking towards the door again. Weighing your options, no doubt. Reluctantly though, you sink to your knees, and Steve’s sardonic smirk grows wider.

“I’m. Sorry.” You grit out. “Better?”

“How can I accept your apology when you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for, doll? Seems kind of silly when you think about it, doesn’t it?” He wants to touch you–your skin looks butter soft–and he reaches forward cupping your chin as he runs his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

“I–” You swallow thickly. “I want to a-apologize.” His hand slides down your jaw, and the words stick in your mouth a little as his thumb dips into the hollow at the base of your throat. “I d-didn’t know w-what I was talking about–!” The words die as you inhale sharply, air hissing through your teeth.

“Keep going,” he says softly. “I’m listening.” Steve hadn’t really been paying all that much attention to your body, but now he can’t help but appreciate how nicely your breasts sit in that tight, white top. He’d been too busy thinking about adjusting your attitude for that, but now…

“I, I sh-should never have, ah–” Your nipples harden to points underneath the soft fabric as Steve drags his finger down your clavicle, between your breasts. Your eyes dart toward the door, and then back to him. “Ste–” His raised eyebrow stops you. “Sir, um, the… the door.”

“If you move before you’ve finished your apology I’m going to stop.”

The ball is in your court, even if only for a moment. This is it, the time to walk away–and you don’t move. There’s a nervous, excited gleam in your eye as you swallow again. You remain on your knees, your palms flat on your thighs.

“Well then. I’m waiting.”

The self-righteous little huff that leaves your pouty lips makes him want to shove his cock down your slim throat and hold it there until your eyes roll, but he’ll save that for next time. He doesn’t have to waste time considering if there will be a next time or not, not really. Steve satisfies himself with tugging down the already generous vee of your shirt. No bra. He clears his throat.

“I shouldn’t have talked about you like that, sir. It…wasn’t my place.” He can tell it’s eating you up, having to grovel, but it’s making you wet too, he’d bet money on it. Steve reluctantly releases your shirt, and urges you to your shaky feet. Dimly, he can hear the murmur of the audience down the hallway, the feedback from the mic—but none of that matters.

“Better. I like that one. Feels much more honest.” A sly grin spreads across his features as he slides down his zipper. “And honesty is such a praiseworthy trait.”

You’re already wriggling out of those sinfully tight jeans, the left leg around your ankle when Steve scoops you up easily. You manage to finish kicking them off as he’s resting your ass on the vanity, his eyes dropping eagerly to the scrap of fabric covering your pussy. He was right, wetness glistens on your inner thighs, the crotch dark and slick with your want of him. Your eyes drop eagerly down to his cock, and Steve can’t help the sardonic chuckle that bubbles from his chest.

“What was that you said? About seeing the shield up close?” He asks, fisting his cock with one large hand. You suck your lower lip between your teeth, looking away embarrassedly. “At least now you can honestly say he fucks. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” The knowing look on his face inspires a bashful one on yours. He doesn’t let you look away, though, dragging his fingers against the damp fabric covering your core. “You were curious, weren’t you, doll?”

“A-all of America’s curious, Steve.”

He snorts. “All of America didn’t call me frigid.” Your mouth opens as though you’re going to dispute it, but a look from him silences you. This is still a punishment, after all. He hooks his fingers underneath the elastic band, and begins inching your panties down your thighs. His nostrils flare at the scent of you, his tongue drawing itself across his lips in anticipation.

“I didn’t ah, shit—” Steve cuts off your protests by parting your sticky folds with an insistent finger. He can’t help but bring it to his lips, savoring you right from the source. You’re soaked already, slick, dewy wetness gathering at your entrance, all for him.

“Doll, you are fucking soaked,” he mutters lowly, enjoying the hiss of air through your teeth. You whine sharply as he circles your clit slowly, hips jerking as he flicks against it with his thumb. Your plump lips part in a delicate o as he slides a thick finger into the slick, clenching heat of your cunt, and your hands fly up to tangle in his cotton-t-shirt. He groans at the feel of you—hot, wet, tight, sucking eagerly at his fingers.

Steve isn’t sure if he kissed you, or if you kissed him, but suddenly your, full lips are pressed against his, and he’s devouring every breathy exhalation and raspy plea. Fingers still slick with you, he smears your wetness against the head of his cock, a muffled curse leaving his lips as he slides against you. There’s a lull in the ambient noise from outside, but Steve can’t be bothered to wonder if the two of you have been caught, not when the aching head of his cock is pressing into the velvet tightness of your cunt.

The back of your head lands with a dull thud on the mirror as Steve slides home, the fingers of one hand knotted in his shirt as you brace the other against his massive shoulder.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, there are tears in your lashes when you look up at him. “Steve, I-, fuck, I can’t—” He draws out slow before slamming home, turning your ragged plea to babble.

“What d’you mean you can’t, sweetheart?” He pants, fingers digging into your hip as he drags your ass forward, bending your knees around his waist. Your eyes roll and you moan pathetically as he sinks in even deeper. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You were practically fucking begging for it on stage,” he snarls, laying into you with heavy thrusts that make you squeal and squirm against him.

The mirror on the vanity rattles dangerously in its frame as he fucks you, the wood creaking and groaning underneath your bodies. He doesn’t care about that, though, not when you’re panting his name like a prayer as your pussy squeezes him like a fucking fist—

“Y-yes!” You’re practically sobbing with pleasure, eyes wide and pupils dilated as you stare embarrassedly up at him.

“Oh doll,” he purrs, sinking into you with another wet squelch; “All you had to do was ask.”

You’re so perfect inside, like smooth, hot velvet; Steve can’t get enough. He can’t remember what other punishment he had planned—probably more of a stern talking to than anything—but this is much better. You whining underneath him, begging him while he ruts into you is a more perfect ending to this than he could possibly have imagined. Your cunt flutters around him, your ragged, desperate moans ringing in his ears.

“Come on and cum,” he growls the words against your damp throat, dragging his teeth against the bruise he knows will be there tomorrow. “Make a nice mess on my cock, sweetheart.” Steve reaches between you to press the pad of his thumb hard against your swollen clit. You keen, your legs trembling around his waist as your cunt grips him like a vice.

Even if he’d wanted to, Steve can’t stop himself from cumming, driving himself in to the hilt as you milk him. Fireworks, supernovas explode behind his shut eyes as he presses his forehead against yours, holding you still while he empties himself into you. It’s almost primal, the need to make sure you get every last drop as his cock spends itself against your womb.

When he finally does pull away, it’s to the sound of raucous applause echoing down the hallway. You’re panting a little, wiping sweat soaked strands of hair from your forehead with the back of your hand as Steve looks on.

“I take it back,” you reply hoarsely after a moment. “You, sir, most definitely fuck. Your ability to take a joke however, is going to need some work.”

Steve’s face heats, even as he quirks an eyebrow. “Oh?”

You grin. “Yeah. It’s not like you can fuck me backstage at all my shows.”

“Can’t I?�� He asks, stepping forward to brace his hands around your hips. “I’m free most Saturday nights…” he trails off, and warm heat enters his belly at the sight of the slight smile playing at the edges of your lips. It’s a different kind of heat, though. Softer—but more intimate, maybe.

“Unless you’re saving the world,” you reply, cocking your head as you loop your own arms around the back of his neck.

“Unless I’m saving the world.” He agrees.

“Well, then, Mr. Rogers,” you say, poking one finger into the hard muscle of his chest. “I guess I’ll see you at curtain.”

fin

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #captain america #chris evans characters #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #cevans #chris evans #boxofbonesfic #Last Laugh fic

1K notes · View notes

natewriteslol · 3 years

Text

And There You Stayed

Part 2 of Just You and Me

Summary: Malleus realizes that the dream of Y/N the human is becoming a reality. Will the memories that he created crumble and fade to black just like last time? Or will they follow through, and life will fall into place.

A/N: I know some of you guys were heartbroken so I wrote you a happy ending

Y/N uses they/them pronouns

Warnings: none

Genre: Fluff and just a little bit of angst

tag list: @coffeeleafdepression, @magicpumpkin3, @puddingqueen-writes

Part 1 of the fic! (ahfkfaad pls read otherwise the fic will just seem weird)

It was still a week and a couple of days after the dream and Malleus had such a tough time forgetting you. Your touch, scent, smile, they way you laughed. He couldn’t believe that you were a figment of reality, and the horned man just wasn’t the same. Lilia, Silver and Sebek noticed the change in their master’s mood, but they didn’t want to dig and make him uncomfortable. Malleus was sad and way more aloof than usual, it was hard to approach him let alone fix. So, they let their master have his space.

An organized meeting for the dorm leaders was meant to commence soon, talking about formalities since the school year had just started after all. And despite his melancholy, Malleus knew he had to attend. The meeting was quite boring, no one really talked to him as his frightening demeanor was even more intense when he was in this state. So he had just sat and listened.

And that was when everything changed, the magic mirror vibrated and lit up. With great blinding light someone flew out of the magic mirror with a scream. It was a cat? Another scream rang out, flying out the magic mirror in the same fashion, except the silhouette looked human.

The beast talked with great blue flames surrounding it’s ears and tail.

“Who the hell are you?! Get off of me you stupid human!” The voice of the cat said, as the human had toppled over the cat, both laying on the cold dark marble of the floor.

“A talking cat?!” The human shrieked.

“Yeah do you have a problem with that, human?” The cat asked angrily, floating in the air. The human had emerged from the darkness.

It was them, from his dream.

Every imperfection, every beautiful quality, Malleus had memorized them all. And there they were, right in front of him.

This had sent him into a state of shock, the fae had just stood there. While everyone had tended to the new resident. Everything he had already predicted was happening. Enrolled as one student with the cat named Grim, placed in the abandoned Ramshackle dorm, defeating the overblotted dorm leaders.

And your name, Y/N L/N. Flowed perfectly off the tongue.

The only thing Malleus had gotten wrong, was that you didn’t come on the first day, but rather a few days after. It was insane and Malleus grew afraid. What if everything would fizzle out again? Revealing that it was a fantasy and nothing more.

Yet something was different about this time. It was that he was experiencing more, different adventures that weren’t revealed in his dream, new conversations that made his love for Y/N grow even more.

Like the one time he was reading peacefully in the courtyard only to see Y/N and the gang running away from a Giantess Froganza (Giant mutant frog).

“HI MALLEUS! BYE MALLEUS!” you yelled before starting to scream and run away from the beast. Y/N had still managed to notice him, even in moments of terror. Yet without magic you had saved the day. Like the great hero that you were.

The dream was a vague prophecy of love given to him. Malleus was hurt yet grateful, to feel insane for days but then given the gift of this human. They were silly, completely out of whack, but they were still so in sync with Malleus. A perfect fit into NRC, like a puzzle piece.

Lilia had noticed Malleus’ behavior being soothed yet still alert.

“Malleus, what is going on?” Lilia asked, gazing into his eyes. And that is all it took for him to spill out his secret. He felt embarrassed, thinking that Lilia was going to look at him with two heads. All Malleus’ feelings were out in the open.

Lilia gave him a smile, “Oh Malleus, but don’t you know?”

“Know what exactly?” Malleus asked, wanting his guardian to go on.

“Dear, when faes get older they can earn new powers. Some stay forever, some only stay for a short while like yours,” Lilia answered.

“And while it wasn’t completely accurate, and didn’t show everything. You had a prophetic vision, they typically happen when there is something of great importance coming. And from what I can tell, Y/N is incredibly important to you,” The elder fae said teasingly, making Malleus a little flustered. Lilia wasn’t wrong but that didn’t mean that he had to say it. Y/N made the horned man nervous undeniably, his heart skipping and his breath hitch whenever they spoke to him.

“But please, rest easy. There is nothing to fear Malleus,” Lilia said.

Malleus and Y/N were looking at the sunset while sitting on the roof of an ancient building of NRC. He confessed about his prophetic visions, he didn’t want to feel like a fool when around him despite getting reassurance from Lilia. Malleus didn’t tell them about him professing his love to them, he wasn’t ready for that yet.

“I know it sounds quite unbelievable but-”

“Malleus, I got chased by a gigantic frog,” they started, taking his hand into theirs. “You are a great and all powerful sorcerer. One of the most powerful people I know! That isn’t unbelievable or weird.”

“But if something is bothering you, then you can tell me. I’ve got my arms wide open for you.”

It was summer, one of the last days to close Y/N’s first year at Night Raven College. The human decided to take a walk with Malleus feeling anxious, but they weren’t really sure what they were feeling apprehensive about. More and more time without being home, the feeling of being done with a school year or wanting to tell Malleus about how they felt.

Was it a combination of all three? Most likely.

The human had felt a connection with him for a long time, and they didn’t know how long they had to keep it hidden within. So they decided, you know what? I’m gonna confess to this guy! With such great confidence, yet it fizzled around him in seconds.

His eyes, so bright and mysterious. Of course everyone’s eyes were pretty different from what they’ve seen in the human world, but Y/N could gaze into specifically his all day. His lips, speaking in that beautiful voice with such proper language. The human remembered that one time they poked fun at Malleus with Sebek around.

“I’m quite a royal, yes I am. The most powerful sorcerer among these humans” they said flamboyantly, closing their eyes and placing a hand on their forehead.

“Stop making fun of the young master, you ignorant human!” Sebek boomed with anger in his voice.

“Sebek, my loyal servant, you bark like a dog,” the human said, opening an eye to look at the angry fae.

“That’s it!-”

But in the background there came a snicker which emerged into one that was just a little bit louder, yet still soft.

It was Malleus. Laughing? Admittedly, Sebek was a little jealous of Y/N for being able to make the young master laugh, especially since it was at his expense. But it put happiness in his heart that someone was able to make him happy. Not as a servant, but as a friend.

However, the green haired fae was still prepared to strangle you.

The pair sat down on the grass, seeing the lights of fireflies around them. The human took Malleus’ hand into theirs all while staring at the lake in front of them.

“Child of man” Malleus started, making you turn your attention to him. “When we were on the roof and I talked about my vision, I was not being completely honest.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, I had left out a minor detail,”

“We were on the bridge, and I had confessed to you” Malleus finally got out. “When I had finished, you told me to wake up. Everything had gone black and I was woken up by Lilia.”

“I had been very anxious about sharing this moment with you, Child of Man. I’m frightened that everything will fizzle out to black and not be real.” It was silence until,

“Malleus, I love you-”

“Y/N, I love you-”

They both chuckled from them speaking at the same time.

“Please go first, Y/N.”

“Malleus, I really love you, you know. I’ve been crushing on you for so long. And I promise that we’re in reality,” you paused to look at the fae in his eyes.

“I know you told me that you’re anxious to take on the future, and I’m the same. I don’t know what’s in store or what I’m going to do, but let’s be there for each other,” they finished, placing their palm against his pale face, smiling as you did.

Malleus put his hand on Y/N’s face as well, pulling them into a deep kiss. And while his vision wasn’t one hundred percent correct, the moment the fae and human had shared was incredibly magical.

“I have wanted to do that for a long time, Child of Man,” Malleus said, smiling cheekily. And there the pair stayed, conversing under the stars until you had to run from employees who had spotted them both.

Careless, young and free. But most importantly together.

As they had both promised each other.

#malleus x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst malleus #twst x mc #twst x yuu

140 notes · View notes

honeesucker · 4 years

Text

Darling, Dearest | Part 3

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x F!Reader (READ ALL WARNINGS)

Word count: 4,307 (Ch. 3 of a multi-chapter fic)

Part one ♡

Part two ♡

Divider designed by Firefly-Graphics ♡

‘Uhhnfhh!” My voice was hoarse from the constant screams being pulled from my throat so easily. I had since lost the ability to form coherent sentences using real words, my brain muddled from orgasms I long since lost count had resigned itself to baser sounds. My pussy was squelching so lewdly amidst the tireless ministrations of the man between my legs, which were draped over his shoulders. I was surprised my body could still produce any sort of substance after cumming so much but I was continually surprised by how the man brought out one more orgasm, pushing me over the edge again and again with each hungry stroke of the magic muscle currently devouring my sloppy, numb cunt like a starved animal. “Mmfmfhh, p-please! Stop s’too much!”

“Oh, come on now princess,” the deep rasp of a familiar voice sounded from between my legs. I peel my heavy eyelids open, sticky with tears from overstimulation as I glance down, my half-lidded gaze meeting deep carmine eyes shimmering up at me with a mischievous hunger. The soft baby blue waves framed his face unhidden by Father as he tilted his head like a curious puppy, despite his scars and rough patches of skin, he was beautiful.

So beautiful.

“P-please can’t take anymore, please don’t make me cum again,” I was a mewling mess of tears, saliva and heavy sobs wracking my whole body with trembling shakes but it only made Shigaraki glow and smirk, “Tomu p-please, n’more” I slurred as my eyelids fell shut.

“Okay my princess,” Shigaraki whispered, clambering up the length of my body to meet me in a sweet kiss. My eyes still shut but I felt him lean down and nuzzle against my neck gently, applying a soft peppering of kisses along the column of my neck and along my jaw, making me giggle. “I’ll give you some time to rest before the real fun starts,” I sighed contentedly while allowing the feeling of exhaustion to take over my body for a short rest, the elation of finally receiving a reprieve from Shigaraki’s insatiable needs halted by the feeling of my pussy being stretched wider than ever before, my body began to shake in the motions of being fucked at a brutal pace but when my eyes shot open Shigaraki was gone, and the soft pink dream world we shared was starting to bleed into deep hues of blackened blue. It felt like I had been holding my breath underwater for longer than I could, and wasn’t near the surface yet until finally I broke through with a sobbing gasp.

My eyes met almost total darkness aside from the dim glow of a gaming menu left to repeat on the screen of the wall mounted TV. The frantic thumping of my heart took over as mind tried to gather its bearings from being ripped out of a peaceful dream into reality in such a harsh way. I heard huffing and felt wet droplets fall onto my face. Blinking away the sleep in my eyes I watched in horror as Shigaraki, the real Shigaraki, was leaning over me while droplets of saliva from his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth fell onto my face again. His cock was spearing in and out of me without abandon or care for my comfort, feeling like I was being torn apart. I tried to scream but found that there was a wadded-up piece of fabric shoved in my mouth, and secured with a silken gag tied around my head which only allowed a muffled cry to break through the sounds of Shigaraki’s labored breathing. His eyes finally snapped down to my awakening form with a wide smile.

“You did say you’d do anything, right Y/N?” Shigaraki mimicked the way I pleaded with him earlier, the embarrassment of being made fun of heating up my cheeks to a fiery pink. “Why don’t you keep being such a good, compliant cock-sleeve for me hm?” I tried to thrash my body but found that my wrists and ankles were bound to the bed and unable to move beyond an inch. The relentless slap of heavy balls against my ass added a strange sensation that sparked a fire straight into my core while the thrusts of the villain above me began to quicken and stutter before a few final pushes that had the head of his cock slamming up against my cervix over and over, sending full-body jolts throughout my nervous system that had the coil of an impending orgasm ready to snap.

“Come on little cock-sleeve, why don’t you cum for me? I feel you squeezing my cock, ready to milk me for all I have,” Shigaraki was laughing like a maniac above me as he finally let out a loud groan while he pinned his hips against mine, anchoring his cock as deep inside of me as it would go as it shot ropes of hot white cum against my womb, and the coil snapped as he was filling me up. My walls were clamping down around his cock, spasming and sucking him in deeper as my body thrashed against the bindings, my blood felt electric as I cried and drooled against my gag. Shigaraki fell fully on top of me, skin slick with sweat causing us to stick together like half-dried glue. He kept his cock seated fully in my cunt as he caught his breath, and once he did, he slowly pulled his length out of me simultaneously pulling a whimper from my throat with it as the ridges and veins caught every sensitive part inside of my abused hole on the way out.

“You’re turning out to be more useful than I initially thought,” Shigaraki mused, more to himself out loud than to me. I was left shaking, sweaty and full of warm, sticky cum that was leaking out of my pussy and onto the mattress. Fat rolls of tears were still spilling from my eyes and down the sides of my face as I lay back on the pillow, my limbs ached and I wanted to badly to curl in on myself but my wrists and ankles were still tied to the bed without much give. “I have to go and meet someone about some prospective members for the League, you be a good toy and stay put,” and with that he was gone.

I wasn’t certain how long it had been since Shigaraki left. Ten minutes or two hours felt the same when my mind remained a hazy mess of pain and disgust at myself that I came on the cock that fucked me awake. I was in such a tormented state of mind that I didn’t realize that my quirk had activated and was working itself on my body, I didn’t take notice when the blue tendrils of energy healed the raw skin around my wrists and ankles where the ties dug in... didn’t realize I was pulling my knees to my chest and tucking arms against my stomach in as tight of a ball as I could get after the energy worked itself away at the material keeping me hostage.

I fell asleep sobbing.

I woke up in a muddled haze of pain and confusion. My body ached like I’d been in the same position for days, and I stretched out and welcomed the sting that came with using the dormant muscles. I sat up and realized I was back in the room that had become ‘mine’ the one I initially woke up in when this whole mess started. I stretched and twisted my body until the ache dulled to a comfortable degree, and walked into the bathroom to shower; well-deserved as my skin felt filthy, sticky and wet with sweat. I turned the shower on and let the steam fill up the entire bathroom before stripping and stepping under the burning spray. I showered until the hot water turned tepid after over an hour of scrubbing, sudsing, conditioning and exfoliating every inch of my body – something in my head telling me to scrub. Scrub until it was gone.

Until what was gone?

I stepped out of the glass door and into the steamy room, enjoying the way the air quick-cooled my skin and left me feeling more refreshed than I had in a while since my arrival here. I was watching myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth.

“You said you’d do anything, right Y/N?” Shigaraki’s voice came through the haze of my mind like a wasp sting to the psyche. I spit out my toothbrush and gagged on the memory, slipping to the floor as the night of horror came back to the forefront of my mind, something my restful state tried to protect me from but wasn’t strong enough to overtake.

I swallowed the thick memory back down while resigning myself to the reality of what happened.

I did say I’d do anything, didn’t I?

Fucking coward.

After a glacial-paced week of sitting and watching Kurogiri take care of the bar with Shigaraki always watching some lesser-known Pro Hero on the TV complete an interview for the most recent villain attack that they thwarted, muttering to himself about the hypocrisy of it all. “Government mandated violence all in the name of the Greater Good... y’ugh,” he’d murmur angrily as his nail dug harshly into the column of his throat where new wounds and old scars comingled. With a sigh I’d stand up and walk over to where Shigaraki was sat, ruby eyes glued to the TV in silent rage as I slowly cupped his large, slender hands in my own as I pulled them down, replacing the scratch of his nails with the soft palms of my hands allowing the liquid glow of my quirk to cool and heal the raw wounds. He was resistant to me touching him in this way at first but it soon became a softened reluctance over an outright disgust.

Sometimes I almost felt him sigh and soften into my touch; and if I caught him on a particularly good day he would let me rub a moisturizing ointment on his neck, around his lips and eyes, and the scarred ridges of his forehead he seemed especially tender about. I’d always thank him for letting me into his personal space without killing me. The sarcastic quip always got me a slight tug at the corner of his lips, not a full smile but close enough in my book.

Being a reluctant (see compelled) member of the Leage of Villains as the go-to feel good girl wasn’t as awful as the first few weeks that compiled a list of horrors I was never exposed to in my day-to-day civilian life. I had a coming-to-self moment with all that had happened and recognized the pedestal I set my standards on didn’t apply here, not when I was doing whatever it took to survive each day as it came... be it an uppity thug with a colt .45 placed between my eyes (he was dusted before he thought about pulling the trigger) or Shigaraki and his hellishly huge cock - I’d take it on. I had to, had to mold myself to this uncertain lifestyle.

The pain was starting to morph into something I derived a sick amount of pleasure from, body numb from overstimulation and pussy filled and leaking on an almost nightly basis whether back at the bar in Shigaraki’s room, or out somewhere in a filthy backway alley because his temper got out of control and he needed something grounding to reestablish his dominance over – and of course I wouldn’t let Shigaraki come an inch on to knowing I was getting more enjoyment than what reactions he forced from me with his brutal ministrations.

I was walking shortly behind Shigaraki along the dimly lit street coming back from one of the many meetings with Giran that Shigaraki has been attending, hearing promises of new blood to come for the League of Villains – Giran was set to bring a few new bodies to the bar next week after a failed rendezvous earlier the previous week with Stain, the Hero Killer, hadn’t panned out the way Shigaraki had hoped it would; though he was completely unfazed by the failing of Stain’s recruitment and just moved on to bigger plans that included destroying him instead along the way. It was a miraculous turnaround after the failed recruitment of Stain and a meeting Shigaraki had mentioned with a student that was ‘surprisingly insightful’ - I wasn’t sure what it meant then but Shigaraki had slowly began to morph into a true leader of the League as opposed to the childish brat with an anger problem and disposable resources. He was still angry, still had all he could want short of the collapse of Hero Society at his fingertips... but his demeanor and reactions to certain things shifted and I admired the change in him.

I was pulled from my mindless day dreaming by someone quite literally pulling on me and shoving me hard against a wall behind a convenience store Shigaraki and I had been walking past, though his long legs had meant he was further ahead of me when I was grabbed. A meaty hand that smelt like cigarettes and filth was clamped over my mouth and I looked up to see the stocky form of some no-life thug in a grey wifebeater and jeans looking at me with blown pupils and a sick grin of uneven black and yellowed teeth. There was an indistinguishable press of a dulled knife in my stomach, not quite puncturing into me yet but I felt the tiniest amount of blood trickling down to my navel from the initial push. I glowered at the hunk of fat and ill-intent pinning me to the wall, struggling against the grip that while shaky, was still strong enough to overpower me. I had just gotten one of my legs loose from where his own were pinning them just enough to give a good kick straight up into his family jewels but just as my boot was meant to contact balls his body crumbled and disintegrated to comingle with the other debris and filth of the alleyway where he truly belonged.

“Fuc-” I was cut off by Shigaraki’s annoyed expression, shaking his hand slightly as it dusting it off.

“You’re an incessant magnet for scum,” he growled, yanking me from my shocked position still on the wall and out back onto the sidewalk toward the bar. He had an iron-tight four fingered grip on my wrist that I knew was going to leave an angry looking mark once he let me go. With his pace set to a brutal haste, we were back inside the bar in no time. Walking quickly past Kurogiri who gave us a questioning look but didn’t push Shigaraki any further, knowing the man was furious and on a mission. We rounded a corner and down a hall to where I knew Shigaraki’s room was, and he opened the door and threw me inside, shutting it behind him and leaning against it with his slender arms crossed tightly across his chest, his gleaming red eyes glaring daggers down at me where I fell on his mattress, his right hand came up to his neck and scratched at it relentlessly, picking at the tender skin and causing pearls of blood to show.

“May I ask what the hell this is?” I motioned to my bruised wrist and outwardly to the room around us in general. Shigaraki was taking in sharp, deep breaths like he was trying to calm himself down.

“Shut up,” is all he growled out.

“W-” I started and then decided to clamp my mouth shut, thinking better against speaking up like my need for the last word is fighting me to do. I just give a small nod and fold my hands in my lap, waiting; and I wasn’t kept waiting long before slender, pale fingers reached out in front of me and quickly decayed my sweatshirt and the joggers of Shigaraki’s I was still wearing. Knowing where this was going to head, I quickly kicked off the boots I was still wearing and waited, almost afraid to breathe as Shigaraki’s fingertips ghosted over the contours of my body, stopping to press a red mark into an especially soft spot with a pleased hum. He finally decided upon utilizing both his hands pointer finger and thumb to tug and roll my nipples harshly between his fingers with an unforgiving pressure, taking extra pleasure in the pathetic, pained mewls that left my throat when he tugged forward harshly.

“You belong to me,” he said evenly, his deadpan tone and calm demeanor scaring me more than I am during any of his previous outbursts. One hand let go of the abused nipple it was holding onto to rain down a slap that left the room echoing with a deafening silence. I bit into my bottom lip until it bled, holding back the cry as a few tears escapes my eyes. Shigaraki leaned forward and licked up along the curve of my cheek, taking my throat into his hand, leaving his middle finger up in the air as he pressed into my throat with force. “Say it,” he growled.

“Y-yours,” I choked out as best I could from the pressure on my throat, “I belong to you - I’m yours.”

“That’s right, you’re mine. Mine to do with as I please, mine to keep,” Shigaraki leant down and took a long breath in, leaning in further to place a kiss on the top of my head. “Then why do you keep letting the slums of the Earth put their hands on what’s mine? Once or twice might be a coincidence, but it’s happened what, princess, three or four times now? That’s a pattern...” Shigaraki’s tone was dangerous and my heart leapt up into my throat jack hammering like a rabbit caught beneath a wolf’s paw. “A pattern that needs to be broken,” he finishes and the tears are flowing in a silent river down my cheeks, landing on my bare chest and mixing with the remaining ash of my clothes in grey streaks.

“S-Shigaraki, I don’t... I-I can’t control what others do to me,” I whisper nearly inaudible, “I don’t ask to be touched or threatened, or – or fucking whatever!” I didn’t realize I was shaking until Shigaraki placed his hands on my shoulders careful not to lay all fingers down as always, and pressed down on them until I was laying back on the bed underneath his weight. My body was still trembling beneath the hard crimson stare of the villain above me as he slowly leant down to draw a deep breath against the skin of my shoulder, sending a shiver up the length of my spine. “P-please I don’t mean to draw their attention, I don’t want it,” I was whining weakly as he kept up his slowly ghosting over my body, drawing deep inhales of my skin and hair, tracing a long wet line with his tongue up the column of my neck and the curve of my face... the way you’d imagine a dragon would play with a sheep before it devoured the poor creature. I stopped my pleading quickly when I realized it wasn’t changing his demeanor, or my inevitable fate, of what that was I wasn’t certain, but I had one last pleading question. “W-why am I being punished for someone else’s transgressions?” I wasn’t proud of the way my voice cracked and bubbled with fear, and lost the fight to the threat of tears almost spilling over my eyes.

“You’re not,” Shigaraki breathed, ghosting his against my neck before placing sweet kisses against the skin.

“Then why-?” I was cut off by the press of his scarred lips to mine, and while it was always an odd feeling blooming in the pit of my stomach at the uncharacteristically intimate act, I allowed him to do as he pleased; and despite the side effects of his quirk affecting his skin, his lips were still warm and welcoming. Shigaraki pressed his body further against mine, lodging a knee between my thighs as he pressed the joint hard up against my pussy causing my cheeks to burn hot and pink with the embarrassment of how turned on I was by the simple action, my arousal evident in the hot pulsations of need aching where his knee pressed and rubbed just enough to frustrate me.

“Is being with me really such a punishment?” He asked, his tone even despite the personal sting the question would bring anyone asking that of themselves. He doesn’t wait for an answer though before his mouth is back on mine, slender fingers kneading harshly into the soft fat of my stomach and hips with a bruising force, dipping down to my thighs as he hiked them to curl up around his own hips. Shigaraki was rutting his clothed cock against my core, already shamefully hot and wet, soaking into the fabric of his pants as he grinded against the slick lips. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against mine, as my lips parted with puffing breaths from the growing arousal of his grinding, wanting more friction, more anything... more of him. “Don’t you see that someone so weak like you, someone so naive and alluring to such pathetic scum needs to be kept and looked after by someone who is able to protect them?” Shigaraki was punctuating his sentences with deep grinds against my bare pussy, the rough seams of his pants bringing me a mixture of pleasure from having just enough friction, and pain from how harsh the fabric was against the sensitive bud. I just nodded, dumb from the aching between my legs. I was always a magnet for trouble, big or small, and I noticed it more and more since having first been taken that night in the alley; it’s been one shitty situation after another with someone trying to take something from me. Shigaraki seemed to sense the change in my thoughts as he decayed his own clothing in a fit of frustrated rage at what was separating our bodies. His pale cock slapped up heavy against his stomach as the fabric fell from his body. The head was red, angry with need and leaking a bead of pearly precum. As if my body decided to move on its own, I was on my hands and knees on Shigaraki’s bed and leaning forward to grab at the delicious looking cock, lavishing the head with kitten licks swirling around the tip in a mess of saliva and precum. His long fingers were tangling in my hair, gentling scratching my scalp with the main four fingers, eliciting a hum from me as I leant into his palm like a cat. His fingers found purchase tangled in my hair on the back of my head as he gripped hard and gave a hard yank that had tears brimming my eyes as Shigaraki looked down at me with a charming smile stretching his lips and his ruby eyes narrowed down at me. “Answer me, princess,” Shigaraki purred and I only nodded along quickly.

“Y-yes I need protecting,” I whimpered out when his grip tightened, pulling at the roots of my hair painfully.

“You need me,” he stated simply and I nodded fervently.

“Yes, I n-need you,” I let out a breath when Shigaraki released his Titan grip on my hair, plopping onto the bed and rubbing at the back of my head with a series of pitiful whines.

“What do you need me for, princess?” Shigaraki asked with a wicked grin on his face.

“Mmfmmph n-need you to protect me,” I managed out between the small thrusts Shigaraki made of barely his cockhead in and out of my mouth, teasing me. “Need your coc-” a hard shove had his full length sheathed down my throat as I drooled and gagged around the fleshy member. Sputtering and trying to breathe through my nose until Shigaraki used his forefinger and thumb to pinch my nostrils affectively cutting off all my air which had me struggling against him.

“That’s right,” Shigaraki stated above me, as cool and collected as ever as I thrashed and struggled for air beneath him, “you need me, my cock. I am the Master of your future, I can give you so much and take everything away,” he said giving one final thrust into my mouth after I calmed down from lack of oxygen and resignation to my fate, and pulled out letting me sputter and pull hungry breaths of air in as he looked on with a sick satisfaction etched across his soft, scarred features. I fell down on my stomach flat like a frog and just let the tears flow freely as my body shook with hiccups and fits of coughs as the ability to breathe came back to me fully.

Shigaraki leant down until he was face to face with me, his hand reaching out to cut my tear-soaked cheek as he spoke, “You’re going to make such an exceptional player two when I’m done with you.”

I resigned myself to the comfort that came as he crawled into his bed with me, wrapping his frame around mine as I still shook a bit from the sobs that wracked my chest. I fell asleep coming down from the high of fear, sinking into the comfort of no longer being used for the time being having been pushed past a limit tonight.

I felt strong, slender arms grasp my waist tighter in my sleep as I drifted off into a black, dreamless sleep.

213 notes · View notes