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luveline · 2 years

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pizza fight | james potter

you attempt to recreate a viral video prank with your boyfriend james, though he doesn't react as you suspected he would. or, james is an incorrigible sweetheart even when you steal his food. [2.6k]

established relationship, fluff, prank / practical joke, idiots in love, eating pizza, fem!reader

The idea is perfect.

While James is in the shower, you lounge in his bed already dressed up and waiting for him to get out and ready. Tonight, he's taking you to get pizza at the fancy pizza buffet in the city, the one that lays thinly sliced pepperoni edge to edge.

His phone beeps on the pillow beside your head. Bored, you sit up and take it into your lap.

The notification says, Did this to my bird and she lost her mind.

It's a text from his best friend Sirius. You wrinkle your nose, instantly thinking the worst.

Is that really what boy best friends send each other?

You shrug to yourself, tapping in James' password – it's your birthday, has been since you started dating – and opening his text chain with Sirius. Curiosity kills the cat, and you click on what he's sent.

The link opens in James' browser, his last open tab entitled 'how to give the best shoulder massage' quickly covered by a loadscreen. You barely have time to marvel at how sweet he is when the video plays.

It's a couple eating together in a car, the camera held by one girl and pointed at another. The girl recording doesn't say anything, only zooms in on her girlfriend's legs where a McDonald’s box is open and empty besides one last chicken nugget.

Quick as a flash, she reaches for her girlfriend's nugget and nabs it. They end up fighting, a giggling tussle of limbs and high-pitched disparagements until eventually the girl recording wins, eats the chicken nugget, and apologises profusely.

"You have your own!" the girlfriend cries in disbelief, though she's still laughing.

The girl recording hands over what's left of her chicken nuggets with an apology and the video ends.

You laugh under your breath.

It's a perfect prank. Light-hearted, exactly the kind of stunt James would pull. James will pull, if he sees the video.

The shower door clatters open and the water is turned off. James appears soon after with a towel around his waist and neck.

"Sorry, baby," he says, bringing the towel from his neck to scrub at the sopping mass of his black curls, "I'm gonna get ready so fast. You aren't starved, are you?"

You're pretty hungry, but nothing that will hurt you in the long run. "It's okay. Do you feel better?"

"I felt disgusting," he says, a total non-answer.

"Yeah," you prompt.

"Having greasy hair always makes me feel like the ugliest guy on earth."

"You're not ugly. You're the most handsome guy ever," you say with a frown.

His smile says thank you, but he says, "I am now."

"You know it."

He looks at you with a boatload of fondness.

"Whatcha doing?" he asks after a moment, nodding at the phone.

You remember the text thread open in your hand and delete Sirius' most recent text with a little bit of guilt and a lot of excitement. "I'm googling how to give the best shoulder massage ever."

"Yeah?" he asks, turning to his dresser.

You've already set an outfit for him on top, though you're not sure if it's what he wants to wear. You'd just thought it'd be a nice gesture, considering his glasses get all foggy after a shower.

"I don't know if that's-" You start, and are swiftly cut off.

"It's perfect. Thank you." James turns his head to look at you over his shoulder. "Thanks, sweetheart."

You melt at the warmth in his tone and nod, eyes falling back to his phone. Ridiculous that he can still make you feel so shy, but he can.

"What did google say?" he asks.

"Why don't you tell me?"

"I already showed you."

He had. It was an amazing massage, as they went. He'd pulled you into his lap and rubbed your shoulders, neck and the place just below your shoulder blades until you'd gone lax in his arms. The neck kisses might have helped.

He gets dressed. You play temple run on his phone in a vain effort to beat his high score.

"You'll never beat me," he says, pulling on his nice shoes from the shoe rack in the cupboard. James has a lot of shoes, but these ones are his best.

He looks really nice, actually

"I will… James, do I look okay? You look so nice, I feel like I don't look as fancy as you do," you tell him honestly.

You don't shy away from what you'd been thinking because James hasn't ever made you feel stupid for being honest.

He takes your hands and tugs you toward the edge of the bed. You can't help but look at his arms as he does, the way his muscle shifts just slightly, the way his watch catches the light. His fingers thread through yours and he kisses the top of your head.

"You look lovely. You do have bedhead, at the back. Do you want me to hairspray it down?" he asks.

"Yes please."

"Okay."

He kisses you again. "How's my hair look?"

"Wet."

James hairspray's your flyaways. You scrunch his curls with a towel, and then all that's left to do is put on your shoes and make the journey.

It's a long drive but short with James. He chatters his usual nonsense with you, telling stories and more than certainly embellishing them. You forget that you're even going anywhere until suddenly James is pulling up outside of the restaurant.

"Shit," he says, mouth a pretty but startled 'o'.

"What?" You lean forward against your seatbelt to look out of his window and into the night. "What are we looking at?"

"It's not open, babe."

"No?"

"Doesn't look like it. I wondered why there weren't many cars on the road coming in."

"Oh no…"

You nibble the inside of your lip. He'd suggested this place because he loves the pasta bake they serve. Melt-in-your-mouth cheese and oregano. You wrack your brain for replacements.

"How about, uh, the Italian restaurant. By the Harvester's," you suggest tentatively.

"I thought you wanted pizza?"

"I want whatever you want."

He steals your hand and pulls it into his, rubbing up the length of your arm as he turns the car in a three-point and starts back down the way you came.

Before long you're pulling up to a small dirt patch next to a huge supermarket. When you roll the windows down you can smell the sickly sweet burn of caramelised onions.

"Tada. Pizza van," James says.

"It has burgers, too."

"Do you want a burger?"

"No."

"Then it's a pizza van."

"Am I getting out with you?"

He pushes his wallet into his back pocket and opens the door, letting in a fierce autumn chill. "No, it's too cold. What do you want, your favourite?"

You beam. "Yeah, please."

"Okay."

He flips on the heater and closes the door. You watch him through the driver's side window as he jogs up to the van. He's as confident and handsome as ever, leaning back to talk with the cook inside. There's a question, some laughter, and then James is handing over some folded banknotes and being given two drinks.

He jogs back. You open the door for him and expect him to get back in, but he says, "He said it'll be fast. Must be a slow night."

"There's no one here 'part from us," you say agreeably, accepting the drinks. They're freezing, and bite your warm hands.

"Lucky us. Be right back," he promises.

Back to the van. He's only stood there for a minute or two when he's being passed two pizza boxes and a smaller box on top. You hear a loud exchange of 'Cheers' and then he's back for keeps, sliding into the driver's seat with his usual boyish smile.

"That was so fast."

"They have one of those wood fired ovens in there, babe, you should see it. Maybe we should get one ourselves."

You laugh and accept the box he's passing you. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why? And don't say the barbecue."

"The barbecue."

"Angel, the scar is tiny. You can barely tell it happened."

You watch him roll up his sleeves and expose the brown lengths of his arms, skin kissed by the sun after hours of rugby training. The scar is obvious on his wrist, a stark, paler tone.

"It's not tiny. And it was scary."

He leans over your lap to pry open your pizza box. "Think it over while you eat."

The pizza looks amazing, almost as good as if it were from the buffet. The crust is bubbled and charred on one end, the smell a divine treat.

"I'm gonna eat it," you say, pulling apart a burning hot slice with fast fingertips. "But not 'cos you told me to."

"Did you say something? I can't hear you over all of that cheese in your mouth."

You laugh, the sound thick as honey in the back of your throat. Being young and in love makes moments like this feel perfect and shining, though that might be the overhead light.

You have to be halfway through when you remember the video Sirius had sent. James eats faster than you, he's only got two slices left and he's demolished the box of wedges on the dashboard. You put your own pizza up on the dash next to his and wipe down your greasy fingers to take a sip of your drink.

"Did you bring my phone?" he asks, head tipped back to catch a string of cheese.

"Yeah, s'in my purse. Do you want it?"

"Will you check if Remus text me?"

You do as he asks. In your ear, James absolutely races through a piece of crunchy crust and you huff a laugh at the sound. "Gonna give yourself heartburn."

"I definitely am," he agrees.

"Mm. Nothing from Remus. Want me to call him?"

"No, he's probably sleeping. Hopefully sleeping."

You're feeling quite sleepy yourself, full of mozzarella, stodgy pizza base, olive oil and rocket.

You drop James' phone back into your bag and wipe your eyes with the side of your hand.

"Are you okay?"

"Think I got something in my eye."

"Want me to look?"

"I'd ask you to blow in it but you might get pepperoni in there."

He snorts and unscrews the lid of his coke. While he's drinking, you fight with yourself. He's being so sweet, should you really try and eat his pizza?

He's sweet every day. Sweet's, like, his MO. If you're waiting for him to change you'll be waiting the rest of your life.

You move fast but are still hesitant, not entirely committed to the joke if you're being honest, and you're kind of hoping he'll stop you. He doesn't.

You lift up his pizza and bring it toward your mouth, smiling cheekily and waiting for repercussions. An indignant "Hey!" or his hands batting yours.

He doesn't even blink.

You wait to make sure he's seen you.

"James?"

"What?" he asks, holding your gaze. He's hardly glanced at his stolen goods.

You take a very small bite.

He smiles. It's a great smile, soft and warm as always. "Nice?"

You chew. Heat washes over you, a hot flush of embarrassment before you put the slice back.

He wields the box at you. "Finish it," he says encouragingly.

"No, I was-"

"Seriously, angel. You haven't touched the wedges, either, they're still hot."

"No, James." You press your lips together and your nose crinkles up before a laugh bursts out. "I was- I was doing a joke. Um. Okay, I'm really sorry-"

"Don't be-"

"I saw it on your phone. It's a joke."

James picks through the wedges and offers you one that looks crispy. You take it but don't eat it.

He pushes your hand toward your mouth, admitting, "I don't know what you're talking about."

You eat the wedge, cover your eyes, and laugh again. It feels like steam is coming out of your ears.

"Sirius sent you a video and it was this girl taking her girlfriend's last chicken nugget and they have a play fight about it and I thought it would be funny 'cos Sirius said he did it to his girlfriend and she went mad," you say, all in a rush.

James starts laughing at you, the sound just as warm as his smile. "Right, I get it. You wanna play fight with me," he says, words all warped with fondness. "I'll fight. Maybe not in the car though."

"No! The point is, you were supposed to be shocked."

James drops his hand onto your thigh and squeezes. He seems like he's weighing what to say before he says it. "Well, I was. But I thought maybe you didn't like yours."

"And it's still okay for me to take yours?"

"We're sharers."

"Shut up."

"What?" he asks incredulously.

You sink down into your seat and pull what's left of your pizza into your lap. "Share with me, idiot."

"Where's all this hostility coming from?"

"I have cuteness aggression."

He leans over the handbrake and drinks holders to take what you're offering. "I don't think so. You're just aggressive. That's why you're trying to start fights with me."

"Hypothetical fights!"

"Alright, wipe your mouth. I'm coming in hot."

You wipe your mouth quickly and suddenly find yourself being pulled by a hot hand behind your neck. James pulls you in for a kiss. It's short and his lips are soft, but he smells enough like tomato sauce to make you giggle.

"What'd you think?" he murmurs, exhale fanning over your lips, "I was gonna snatch it out of your hand?"

You kiss him again. Hard to do smiling as you are, but you manage.

"You could've put up a little bit of a fight."

He strokes the back of your neck lightly and then slowly sits back in his seat.

"Yeah? We can argue over the wedges, if you want? Or we can go buy one of those fancy cake slices off of the counter in Sainsbury's and see who can eat the most of it, if you wanna fight that badly."

You finish what's left of your drink, staring at him the whole while. James is handsome, obviously, but you can't believe how kind he is. He didn't so much as blink at you trying to steal his food and now he's trying to feed you sweets.

"I'm surprised Sirius hasn't text me yet to cry about being pied."

You cringe. "Sorry for messing with your phone. I just didn't want you to see it and spoil the joke."

"I don't mind," James says, and of course he doesn't. He gave you the password to his phone four days into being your boyfriend.

"If you'd seen it, would you have tried the joke on me? I don't think I would've taken it as quietly as you did."

"How can you ask me that?" He slaps a hand to his heart like he's betrayed before dropping the facade completely. "Of course I would've."

"Of course," you repeat wryly.

"Mh-hm. I definitely would've. I fucking love the face you make when you're mad. Your eyelashes all touch and your lips- Yeah, that's the one."

He grins and reaches out to stroke your cheek. You glare at him, though any resentment melts away when his thumb pushes into the corner of your lips and tugs.

"Smile, beautiful."

You duck your head and kiss the meat of his thumb. "Don't want to," you say into his skin.

You're lying as you do, cheeks appled with a grin.

thank you so much for reading!

if you enjoyed reading, please consider reblogging! i promise it makes a difference

#james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #marauders era #marauders #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter #james potter imagine #james potter one shot #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fluff #fem!reader #marauder x reader

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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For One Night Only | Part 3

“Steve?!”

“Nance!” The reunion was abrupt, two bodies colliding in the middle of the room amidst makeup artists and stylists in a tight hug that wound up with Steve being lifted off of the floor by little miss badass herself, Nancy Wheeler. “Jeez! Hitting the gym much?” He laughed as she set his whole 5’10 stocky mass back down on the carpet.

“Only on the weekends, running around after these idiots is great cardio, keeps me in tip top shape, what’re you doing here?”

“Munson needed a date to this fancy award thing, I got the invite, you know me, love being pampered and showered with attention. I thought you and Barb were in Cali with the Byers?” Even though she and Jonathan weren't dating anymore, both realising they found their best friends way more compatible with themselves than each other, they still had plenty of love for each other, enough to spend a week just getting baked on the beach together once every few months.

“That’s next month after the events season is up, still running ragged this month. These lot have got radio shows tomorrow afternoon and evening, and they’re invited to a premier next weekend for something that used one of their songs in the soundtrack, it’s… hectic. God it’s been…what—”

“Few years since face to face" they'd kept up the catch up phone calls though, their "babies first love" hadn't worked out but they made excellent friends. "You look good Nance…”

“I feel good… less stressed. Weirdly enough.” She didn’t have to deal with asshole bosses and sexism in the workplace, she just had to deal with nerds, and the nerds respected her. “Did Eddie tell you about the whole journalism thing?”

“That you finally told them to go suck several severely unwashed dicks? Not in those exact words but I’m proud of you Nance, I know it’s what you wanted to do but—”

“Sometimes we don’t know what we want until we’ve tried it and it sucks. Barb walked out with me flipping the whole office off, it was glorious.” She finished as he nodded, smiling brightly at the knowledge that Barb had stuck by her in that too, because of course she had, when had Barb ever not stuck by her? “So I see this whole thing is still working out nicely for you” She motioned to the entirety of him as he flourished his hands in a tadah motion. “You look good, it’s a good look on you, this job.” He got paid handsomely for doing something he genuinely enjoyed, he dressed well, he smelled good, he looked like he was worth a lot of money.

“Not to parrot you but, god Nance I feel good too, I’ve been seeing this funny old woman lately, she’s hilarious and her cookie recipe is to die for, if you ever get a moment, you should come with me one day she’ll talk your ear off about the most ridiculous shit.” He adored Gladys, she deserved the world, she was a welcome switch up to the occasional sexual hire he’d get, some people needed a damn good release, others needed to just talk to someone who’d listen.

He enjoyed both kinds of people.

“Okay so is someone going to explain what the hell Steve Harrington is doing in our room?” Gareth finally decided to break the baffled silence that’d fallen over the rest of the Corroded Coffin members as Nancy and Steve caught up like little old ladies meeting for a senior special at the local cafe.

“He’s my date!” Eddie chirped, tone dripping in smug with a grin to match. He’d parked his rear back into his own chair, allowing the stylists they hired to fuss a little more over his hair.

“No really.” Gareth deadpanned “What’s Steve Harrington doing in our room?”

“I just told you!” Eddie squawked indignantly, almost offended at how little Gareth believed in him. “I hired him, yes, but he’s still my date.”

Steve smiled and stepped forward in his defence though, “No he’s right… I am his date for the evening, and I really hope I can start fresh with you guys too, I know I wasn’t the best person in Hawkins, I don’t remember much of it, my memory isn’t great, but Eddie tells me I let some shit happen that I definitely should have put a stop to—” Tommy pushing Jeff into a locker, for example “so, i’m sorry for everything, I am, truly, I really hope you can forgive me.” The last thing he wanted was a tense night around the band.

He wanted to get along with them, not just for the sake of his job, but also because he actually was hitting it off with Eddie, he liked Eddie, Eddie was sweet, and prettier than he remembered any boy in Hawkins ever being.

That being said he really didn’t remember much.

“Okay so. It looks like Steve Harrington, it has Steve Harrington’s voice, and yet it says magical things that couldn’t possibly come from Steve Harringt-ow!” Eddie, thankfully the closest sat next to him, thumped Jeff in the arm “what the hell man?”

“We’re not dumb kids anymore, dude. Everyone’s grown here. Let’s keep the past where it belongs, yeah?”

“Would you say the same shit about Hargrove too?” Now Steve did remember Billy Hargrove, hard to forget a man like Hargrove, giant douchebag, hadn’t thought about him in years though, had no idea where he ended up and didn’t care to think about it. Just knew Nancy’s brother Mike was friends with the guys sister, Max.

Steve actually found himself frowning deeply at the idea that they associated the memory of high school him with Hargrove of all people.

“Ew no, but Steve never actually physically did anything to you, he just kinda… watched it happen, and he only did that once, sure it was still shitty but it ain’t the same and you know it ain’t the same.”

“Listen… I don’t expect forgiveness after a single apology out of nowhere, I didn’t reach out and I don’t even remember what happened, it’s all by sheer coincidence that I’m even here with the opportunity to apologise, but I do have a job to do here, and I intend to do it so I’d really appreciate it if we could at least put that past behind us for tonight, and if you want to hold a grudge, just save it for after the cameras finish rolling, okay? Not for my sake, but for your own. Do you really want the press to spin some bullshit Yoko story about how your front man is spending time with a guy you all hate? How it’s pulling you apart?”

The big one was the first to speak after that, Steve couldn’t remember his name either, but he knew it began with Fr… His brain supplied ‘Freak’ but that probably wasn’t it. “You know about Yoko?”

“I don’t live under a rock.”

“Nah just in a fancy penthouse apartment with a bitchy little Pomeranian and a walkin closet bigger than… than… uh— okay I was gonna say my apartment but I’m rich now so—” Eddie sniggered as Jeff floundered trying to be witty.

“First of all, I have a cat, her name is Mocha and she’s a queen” a severely pampered colourpoint ragdoll currently being fawned over by her usual cat sitters Robin and Vickie “and second this job requires a walk in closet bigger than some houses, do you think a rich client wants to see the same outfit twice? Man I have a whole section dedicated solely to lingerie.” Eddie nearly choked on his own saliva.

Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie— shit he was still talking.

“Now, are we going to get our stories straight, or are we going to continue wasting time discussing my adolescent character flaws?”

Gareth finally piped up “Man, do you really have a whole closet section dedicated to lingerie?” And Steve just sighed.

#For One Night Only #PirateWrites #ficlet #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Corroded Coffin #yes. yes he does have a whole closet section dedicated to that #BARB LIVES

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toomuchracket · 10 months

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imagining that you would coordinate a cake to be brought out at the post-fins hangout to congratulate the boys and matty would get so emotional and pull you into him once he saw what you’d done and a little while later, someone from the party would text you a photo of him giving you a sweet kiss while you’re holding the cake which makes the two of you more emo. and then afterwards, you two go back to his house in London and enjoy a sweet night of domesticity together (shower, cuppa, staying up late talking and watching YouTube, sharing a joint, and falling asleep haphazardly on each other bc the weed knocked you out) because lbr he’s not been home much lately and you both relish in the sweetness of it all

going to alter this slightly but omg!! birthday party coded. matty is so sweetie pie and soft after the gig, and his mum (because of course you're in cahoots with denise on this) is like "right, everyone, my beautiful almost-daughter-in-law (and then she looks pointedly at matty and taps her watch, making everyone laugh and him roll his eyes) has a little gift for the band. here she is!", which is your cue to appear from one of the tents with a "congratulations!" cake you made after matty went to sleep last night. it's visibly not a professional cake - the icing is wonky and the layers are a bit haphazard, but everyone is so touched by the fact you took the time to make it. like, the boys give you little hugs and head kisses to say thank you, and matty - tearing up for the millionth time that day - grabs your face and gives you a sweet but lengthy kiss, before he makes you put the cake down (george gets stuck into it right away lmao) so he can lift you up into a big hug that leads into him literally just carrying you around while he mingles because he wants to be close to you :')) denise takes a bunch of lovely photos of this little matty affection progression moment, and comes over to show the two of you and ask if she can post a couple on insta; both of you, on the verge of crying happy tears about how adorable and in love you look, are like "yeah sure whatever lol". around midnight, you get a taxi back to the house. matty is so sleepy, but he's like "baby will you wash my hair for me i really need a shower", and you agree - you're practically having to hold him up as you head towards the bathroom, and he literally sits on the shower floor and holds your legs while you shampoo and condition his curls, but he stays awake. and he perks up a bit once he's in his pyjamas with a cup of tea you made while he sat on the kitchen counter and told you you're beautiful, so much so that you both curl up on the couch and watch a couple of video essays with mayhem lying over your feet. and matty turns to you at one point and goes "d'you fancy sharing a zoot with me, darlin'?" - you turn to him incredulously like "are you actually ASKING me to smoke? my god. it really is a big day", and he rolls his eyes and swats your arm like "WELL i was just enjoying our little domestic moment together and i thought hmm what would make this even better? ah yes, sharing some weed with my perfect fiancee. but on second thought, i'll maybe just keep it for myself...", giggling when you're immediately like "ok i'm sorry. yes i would like to share a zoot with you. thank you baby". and matty pulls one seemingly out of thin air and lights it, letting you take the first drag and arching an eyebrow when you don't cough, like "that was... impressively smooth. are you a secret stoner?", which makes you both giggle. the laughter only continues as you get progressively higher, chatting about the funniest signs and moments you witnessed in the crowd earlier, before you tell matty you're ridiculously proud of him, exchange i love you's, then promptly fall asleep all tangled up in each other on the sofa, exhausted but elated after the wonderfully busy day you both had <3

#mads muses #mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #into the birthday partyverse

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a-b-riddle · 20 days

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False Vows: Chapter One

Evelyn

I get why some people give themselves self-inflicted wounds. Maybe it's the masochism that comes along with loving a man like James, but it's euphoric centralizing the internal pain elsewhere. Although, where some used razors or snapping rubber bands against their skin, I let James get underneath mine.

I was his willing victim. I took whatever shred of affection he gave me in the form of fucking me roughly into our mattress, like he was right now. I'll have bruises on my hips tomorrow by the way his fingers dig into my flesh. Scattered love marks with go down my neck and chest leading resorting me to wear make up or even a scarf around the staff. Humiliating, but that was always his goal.

In a few minutes he'll cum, not worrying about whether or not I've climaxed too. Sometimes I do. It feels earth shattering in the moment. But once he pulls himself away after he's done he'll head to the shower and I hear the sound of the shower running, my world shatters again in a completely different and familiar way. He'll spend the next few minute scrubbing the feel of me off of his skin.

James doesn't kiss me. He did about eighteen months ago, but hasn't since. He doesn't hold me after sex or even while we sleep; very visible no man's land between us. He doesn't come to my side of the bed and by now I knew better than go to his.

I have a husband who hates me. It's so painfully obvious I would be a fool to think otherwise. He never fucks me because he wants to. I'm not just something to keep his bed warm. He looks to a certain Carter girl for that. No I have a greater purpose apparently.

The man has been obsessed with getting me pregnant since we got married. It took a while to realize the window for knocking me up was a limited one, he tracked my cycles.

He had the chef prepare meals that would best benefit me hormonally and if I believed for a second it was because he honestly wanted to have a family, the sentiment would be endearing. Instead, it makes me feel like livestock getting ready to be bred. I had to sneak out of the house just to get something that didn't taste like fucking wheatgrass.

It hadn't even worked. Two miscarriages in eighteen months of marriage. After how colder than usual James had acted after the first one, I didn't tell him about the second. I silently mourned the loss of our second child, just as I did the first.

The sound of the shower comes to a stop. It'll take him less than five minutes to dry off, brush his teeth and come to bed.

His hair is still damp, but he was meticulous in making sure not a single square inch of his body was wet. He was sure to rid his body of angry lingering scent I may have had on him even though the room wreaked of sex. His body wasn't marked like I knew mine was. I didn't even need to look at the damage that had been done. James pinned my hands down on the mattress following the time I had dared to scratch his back while lost in ecstasy.

Who knew fucking my husband was the least intimate thing I would ever do with another person?

He scrolls on his phone. Looking at what, I don't know and I don't care. Suddenly, the feel of his so close and so far is too much. Almost two years of this is suddenly too fucking much. I had planned to do this earlier, having prepared a long and thought out speech on why this was for the best. I'd tell him over dinner.

But he didn't show up. His food that Maria had set out had turned cold. He came two hours later. A meeting ran late. I wish he wouldn't lie. I already knew he was fucking other women. He didn't even deny it when I first confronted him about how the papers ran stories about him and her. He laughed and told me to stop being ridiculous.

Sounds played from his phone, no doubt he was scrolling through reels or tik tok. Still didn't care. The constant changing of sounds and the constant sound of his breathing slowing down, indicating he would soon be asleep was too much.

I pulled the covers off of me and threw on the oversized shirt he had pulled off of me earlier. My panties had probably slipped on his side of the bed where the usually landed after he all but tore them off my body. I got a pair of old Christmas pajama shorts that I had in what James referred to as my "grubby" clothes. He tried buying clothes two years ago that had me feeling like a beached whale. Even with the weight I lost out into consideration, I still felt disgusting in them. Even more so when James was around and not a single part of me felt beautiful.

Which is why I should have spoken my piece instead of letting him fuck me.

Pathetic.

"Where are you going?" He didn't ask until I headed toward our bedroom door. I looked back at the bed to see he hadn't taken even taken his eyes off of his phone. The screen light reflecting in his terrifyingly beautiful eyes.

Those eyes that I wish for once in our time together wouldn't be filled with so much hate. Did he ever look at me without resentment? Did he even look at me when we had sex?

I thought the next five words would make me choke. "I want a divorce, James." I shut the door behind me before I could look at his face.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him knowing I would be met with a bemused expression. James had never brought up the prospect of divorce, but he had showed it in so many unsavory ways both in private and public.

Images of James and model, Sharon Carter, were the primary reason I gave up Instagram. Tiktok was more tame, but it didn't help when tabloids loved the story about a philandering billionaire and his recluse heiress of a wife.

Eventually, it got so bad I had to stop going out in public. The gnawing shame I felt every time someone side-eyed me standing next to James as if I didn't belong there. They were always right.

I slept in the guest room down the hall. James never followed.

...

I didn't cry myself to sleep like I thought I would, mourning over my complete failure as a wife. Instead I didn't feel anything. Not sadness or remorse at my words. Not even anger for everything James and his family had put me through. Hell, not even numbness.

My first thought wasn't even a replay of last night's events. I thought about my impending deadline. I needed to check my e-mails and get ready to print out the copies of my latest book to those I selected to get ARCs. Fuck I needed an assistant.

But anytime I thought about it I thought about my anonymity being ruined. No. I didn't have a job outside of writing. I could do the work. My work didn't merit difficult enough to need an assistant anyway.

"Mrs. Evelyn." I heard Maria's voice on the other side of the door. Evelyn. Not Mrs. Barnes. James was sure to correct the staff anytime they said otherwise. I didn't care. I would have preferred if they just called me Evelyn. "Will you be taking breakfast downstairs with Mr. Barnes?"

The question gave me the same shock as if she had just dumped cold water on the bed. It's 9:30. What the fuck was James still doing home on a Monday?

I didn't bother returning to the master bedroom to freshen up. Nothing I do would have been good enough. I could have my hair curled and a full face of makeup and James would find something to criticize.

I tried to steady my heart as I went past Maria and headed downstairs. There was no way James would stay home unless something had happened. No. She was wrong. James probably had ran late and was running out the door and assumed he would stick around for breakfast.

But

He's home.

James Barnes enjoys missing work as much as I like going to the dentist. The man is more married to his job than me. So seeing him shirtless wearing nothing but a pair of joggers was surprising to say the least.

"You're home." I said as my eyes tried to refrain from soaking in his god-like body. Fuck, it wasn't fair for someone to be that attractive.

"I do live here." He said, not taking his eyes off his phone. "My first meeting isn't until 2 so I figured we could discuss whatever the fuck that was last night." His eyes flickered to mine. "You and I both know there is only one way out of this marriage."

"Death?" The sarcasm leeching from mouth surprised both of us. "Because being married to you comes pretty damn close." His cold eyes flashed to me. James had never laid a hand on me, but the man was intimidating. But I stood barefoot in the kitchen, unmoved and not afraid.

"A marriage you wanted, Evelyn." His hateful gaze narrowed at me and it was like he was trying to imagine me bursting into flames on the spot. "Or have you forgotten your vows?"

"You obviously have." I shot back. "I've stopped guessing which nights you actually have business to attend to and the nights you're fucking Sharon Carter." I went to pass him, headed toward the fridge to heat up whatever speciality meal the chef had prepared for today when he reached out and gripped my arm.

Hard.

His voice was low and threatening as he warned me not to mention Sharon to him again. Okay. Now a little afraid. "Let go of me." I ordered, my voice surprisingly unwavering. His grip didn't loosen. "You're hurting me." I bit, but didn't flinch from the feeling of his fingers digging into my arm. More bruises courtesy of James Barnes although these were far less pleasant.

It only took James eighteen months of a loveless marriage to hurt me. Physically at least. He released my arm. "Do your job, have a baby and we can both go our own separate ways." He downed the rest of his coffee "Those are the terms, in case you've forgotten them."

We never had terms in regard to our marriage. To love and honor, sickness and health and all that bullshit was there. All things he failed to do. But suddenly having a kid was that important to him. Did this fuck head not realize having a kid was pointless when it meant tying you to someone he hated for the rest of his life?

"I have a business dinner tonight." He said standing up, leaving his empty mug on the counter before heading out of the "Don't wait up."

He was out before I could tell him that he and his terms could fuck off. I didn't need his permission to leave this marriage.

Fuck. Him.

#Bucky Barnes #Marriage In Trouble #arranged marriage #Grovel #groveling #angst with a happy ending

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years

Text

(This is the long, completed version of Jess dreaming about Lenny after he’s passed away)

He’s been reading too hard again.

Jess Mariano has a weird habit, where if he reads too hard, too much, it all starts showing up in his dreams, and Lenny’s memoir is no exception.

He dreams of a dim, smoky café, where a woman in a fancy black dress and pearls is making the audience laugh.

“She’s so good,” the man next to him says reverently, and when he looks, he finds a tall man, dark hair and a hand in front of his mouth, watching the woman intently.

“Lenny?” Jess marvels.

He smirks. “Hey, kid.”

“You-”

“Ssshh. Just listen.”

And Jess does, and it takes him all of a second to realize that that’s Midge onstage, eating the audience alive. And Lenny is right. She is so, so good.

“...Anyhow, my point is, with the ring came the sex. Exclusive sex. Right? Something to count on. Something you know is yours. Like a social security number or a family history of insanity.”

Jess laughs quietly and Lenny smiles.

“Sometimes I look back on this night,” he tells Jess. “And I wonder why I waited so long.”

“Weren’t you still married to Honey when this happened?” Jess asks.

Lenny nods. “I was. But not for very much longer. I could have made a move sooner. I just- I didn’t know if she- hold on, this is my cue.”

Midge wraps her set to thunderous applause, and then rushes off the stage, launching herself into Lenny’s arms, and he hugs her tightly.

“How could you not have known that she wanted you?” Jess asks, a little annoyed.

Lenny smirks from over Midge’s shoulder. “Don’t bother the dead, kid.”

Jess wakes up with a jolt after that, looking around Luke’s old apartment above the diner and rolls his eyes.

“Fuck.”

*****

Another night. Another dream. A cramped little jazz club, and this time, he’s onstage with Lenny as Lenny does his set.

Except he’s not actually doing his set, he’s talking to Jess.

“I clocked her in the audience right when she took a seat,” Lenny tells him. “The headband and the cute little black pants and the coat. After Trent and the three - the guys behind me - hey guys - play their first set, I’m gonna invite her out back with us to get high, and then she’s going to stand right here where I’m standing, and roast the fuck out of me for a years-old joke she saw me tell at a strip club once.”

Jess watches Lenny carefully, this youthful version he’s only seen in photos and the occasional documentary. He’s so used to the older version: a little stooped and white-haired with hard-earned wrinkles. It’s deeply strange to see him at nearly thirty-five.

“Love at first roast?” Jess offers, amused.

Lenny grins and nods sheepishly. “It’s not entirely inaccurate.”

Jess wakes with less of a jolt then and sighs. It feels like Lenny is trying to tell him something, but that’s fucking ridiculous.

He takes the coldest shower he can stand and starts his day.

*****

Another night.

Another dream.

A dive bar on a rainy night.

Lenny sits between Jess and Midge, and he’s looking truly rundown.

“Newly divorced, on the run from a warrant for my arrest in Chicago,” Lenny shrugs. “Missing my daughter, and a little homeless…aimless…and there she is. Until the day I died I never figured out why she kept saving me.”

“She loves you, Lenny,” Jess tells him. “It’s that simple.”

Lenny takes the drink in front of Jess and downs it, clearly feeling the burn of it. “That was still not my drink.”

Jess chuckles softly.

“It’s going to be okay,” Midge says firmly.

Lenny looks at Midge and shakes his head. “She has this habit, you know. She knows just what to say when my whole heart is in tatters. She’s gonna do it again in another moment.”

Jess looks confused. These dreams never have full conversations, it seems.

“I’m going to tell her about my Steve Allen gig, and she’s going to catch that I am fucking nervous,” Lenny explains. “She’s going to tell me about accompanying her very young son- who will, in a handful of years - become my stepson - on his first playdate, and how she stayed outside the whole time, even though it rained.”

“Want me to stand outside your playdate?” Midge asks, grinning at Lenny understandingly.

“And there it is,” Lenny tells him. “In that one sentence. That’s when there was no turning back.” He gets to his feet, digging out some money to pay for the drink he stole, and keeps chatting with Jess. “I’m going to tell her to bring her umbrella to my playdate, and leave like I’m cool or something. But in reality…fuck, I don’t know. Sometimes it was tough not to beg her to come home with me - not that I had a home at this point.”

Jess follows, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Umbrella.” He remembers Lenny’s funeral. Being asked to bring one. Everyone being asked to bring one. Midge had stepped out of the car at the cemetery for the burial to a sea of umbrellas, lifted her own very pink one, and led the way.

And this is why.

Jess wakes up and sighs, staring at the ceiling. What are the point of these stupid fucking dreams? Is he really just reading too much, too hard on Lenny’s memoir? Is this a belated grieving thing?

Jesus.

*****

“This is not a proud moment for me,” Lenny tells Jess as they stand out on the sidewalk in front of Midge’s apartment building on the Upper West Side.

The sun is shining, Lenny has lost a shoe, Midge is bewildered, and the whole thing looks like I mess.

“I got high last night,” Lenny explains. “And then drank a lot of whiskey. A lot. Of whiskey. And I blacked out on 8th Street. And luckily - or unluckily, I thought at the time - Midge was passing by. She spotted me. Brought me here.” He turns to the building. “To sleep it off safely.”

“Were you together?”

“No,” Lenny confesses. “We’ve been…dancing. Around this thing of ours, but no. And I was humiliated. And hungover and just-” He sighs, looking ashamed. “I took my shame out on her. I was horrible to her.”

“Why?”

“What was the impetus every time you were an asshole to Rory?” Lenny asks as he tries to offer Midge money, and Jess’s eyes go wide with panic at the gesture.

“Lenny - fucking - no!”

“I’m sorry, what do you think happened last night?”

“Answer the question,” Lenny says.

“I was fucked up and angry at myself and - ashamed of myself,” Jess tells him as he climbs into the cab with Lenny while Midge storms back into the building.

“Yeah,” Lenny drawls. “My poor Miriam. The things I put her through. This bullshit, and the drugs…the convictions and appeals…she should have left me so many times. She had every right to, and she couldn’t do it.”

“That whole love thing again,” Jess quips.

“Don’t joke,” Lenny tells him as he lights a cigarette. “Midge has seen shit that would have you running scared.”

Jess takes a breath. “Lenny, why do you keep popping up like this?”

Lenny shrugs. “Seemed like there was more to talk about with you. More to explain. You and I, we always had nice conversations. Maybe you’re not ready for them to end yet.”

He wakes up and shakes his head. “Fuck.”

*****

He stops Jess from walking into that very blue hotel room.

“Not on your fucking life, kid,” Lenny tells him, and shuts the door.

Jess wakes up laughing, but once he goes back to sleep, he finds himself dreaming of a bathroom and a bag.

And Lenny again.

“The thing you don’t know about me,” he says, standing there in nothing but a pair of undershorts, looking younger than Jess can ever remember even in pictures, the scars on the insides of his arms on display. “Is that I have always been a god-damn monster. And the idea that Midge didn’t think so is the only thing that kept me from dying young.”

Jess wakes up again, and finds himself in his own bathroom with his cell phone.

“Hello?” Rory asks sleepily.

“I-”

“Jess?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

He hangs up.

*****

The problem with these dreams - the big problem - is that none of these instances are detailed in the book. Mentions are made of clubs and cafes. Of Blue rooms. But Lenny purposefully left out details that Jess has been dreaming about.

And he’s not sure what to do with that information, because either those things really happened and Jess is going bonkers, or he’s just dreaming weirdly specific stuff.

And he knows he should ask Midge about it, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Midge is Midge and Midge will always tell him that she’s okay. That it doesn’t hurt too much. That Lenny lived a long, full life, and it was his time. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s now living out the last years of her life without him, and that has to hurt.

So in the morning when she stops in for breakfast, as she so often does, he just pours her coffee and asks her how her day is so far.

But he finds himself looking at Midge in a new light. Not as the elderly woman who has always, somehow shown him kindness and tried to be family to him when he had very little, but he sees, now, the young, funny, fierce woman Lenny had fallen in love with.

“Have you ever thought about writing another book?” Jess asks out of the blue.

Midge looks surprised. “Not really.”

“I mean, you don’t talk much about the early days in the one you wrote,” Jess points out. “Lenny doesn’t give a whole lot of details, but he talks about meeting you in the memoir. You kind of gloss over a lot of that stuff.”

She shrugs, grinning. “Some things are just for me.”

Jess nods, and keeps working, only for Rory to pop over to the counter.

"Hey."

He nods to her. "Hey."

Rory purses her lips. "You called me last night and then hung up."

"Yeah," Jess confirms sheepishly. "I had a weird dream and I … I guess I wigged out a little.:

She frowns. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No. But thanks."

*****

"You know when you really let someone down?" Lenny asks from a hospital bed.

Another dream.

Lenny looks young and too thin and too pale.

And Jess knows this is the overdose.

Jess nods. "Yeah."

Lenny sighs and gazes past him, at the woman dozing in a chair in the corner. "Yeah."

Jess takes a breath and looks Lenny in the eyes. “Why?”

The other man can only shrug and shake his head. “I don’t have answers. If I did, I don’t think I’d have wound up in this hospital bed.”

“It just feels like you’ve been trying to tell me something,” Jess presses. “All these dreams, night after night.”

Lenny just grins.

And Jess wakes up.

*****

“Do you dream about your grandfather?” Jess asks as he and Rory wander around the bookstore the next day. “Richard. Does he pop up a lot?”

Rory frowns at him curiously. “Sometimes. But not in a significant way. Like, I’ll turn a corner, and he’ll be sitting there, reading a newspaper, and he’ll smile, or…or wave. But nothing intense or detailed.”

Jess nods slowly as he tosses another book onto his stack of “to buy”’s.

“Are you dreaming about Lenny?” Rory asks carefully.

Jess blinks. “It’s just- weird. It’s weird. You know?”

“He was family to you,” Rory points out gently. “And you miss him.”

Jess just nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“If you wanted to talk about it,” Rory offers gently.

“Maybe,” he allows. “Maybe not now, but…maybe.”

She shrugs and grins at him. “Whenever.”

“Yeah.”

*****

“People really hated Midge after we got together,” Lenny explains as he lays back on a couch with Midge snuggled in against his chest as they read a newspaper together. “They thought that she was the reason I got clean, and they thought it made my comedy weaker. Less funny. Except all the bits people claimed were from my early days were from my post-drugs, with-Midge days…getting clean made me sharper, made the humor more biting. Angrier in a lot of ways. Got me in more trouble in some ways. People didn’t want to believe it.”

“Another reason she should have left you?” Jess offers.

“Eh. She’s not gonna,” Lenny shrugs, kissing the top of Midge’s head tenderly. “I got lucky.”

“I’m sick of these dreams,” Jess snaps as he paces around the living room.

“Then stop having them.”

“How?!”

Lenny shrugs again.

Jess wakes up and snarls, hopping out of bed and calling Rory.

*****

“I keep having these dreams,” he admits, agitated as he paces the gazebo. The sun isn’t up. He woke Rory up for this, and he feels bad, but- “Every night this week, just - dream after dream, always Lenny, always something I’m pretty sure happened but I shouldn’t know that it happened. Always - talking about - him and Midge.”

“Jess-”

“I don’t know what he’s trying to tell me! Should this stuff be in the book? Am I supposed to learn some kind of after-school-special bullshit life lesson from all of this?”

“Maybe you just miss him,” Rory says firmly from her seat on the bench, and it stops him in his tracks.

He says nothing, staring at her face.

“Lenny and Midge were a really stabilizing force in your life,” Rory offers. “They never broke up. They never got divorced, they never cheated on each other or actively hated each other. They were in love, and they love you like you're one of their own grandkids. And now half of that force is gone, and your brain is trying to make sense of that reality.”

Jess swallows and looks down.

“Do you need a hug?” Rory asks, getting to her feet. “I promise no funny stuff.”

He shrugs and tries to joke. “I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to funny stuff.”

Rory laughs softly and hugs him around the neck. “Shut up.”

*****

Jess stands in the corner behind Midge's chair, watching them stare at each other.

"This place doesn't feel a little...I don't know. Weird and racist to you?" he asks.

Lenny shrugs. "It was the sixties. We were not woke."

Jess chuckles softly and wanders around a little, looking at the other patrons as they dance and drink.

"So this was your big plan to get her to fall for you?" he asks.

"Part of a larger scheme," Lenny admits. "Before this, we did a TV appearance on Miami After Dark with Bry Adler."

"The Hugh Hefner Wannabe?" Jess scoffs.

"Eh, I had already done the Playboy Penthouse thing," Lenny shrugs. "So we just ate dinner. We're enjoying drinks and each other's company. Nice and atmospheric."

"And weird and racist," Jess adds.

"Thanks for that."

"I'm just saying."

Lenny sighs heavily. "I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted this night to be...I don't know. I think in the back of my head, I figured if I get one shot at this, I wanted to make it count. She's going to turn me down at the end of the night, by the way. We'll get back to my place, and she'll look at me and I'll look at her, and she'll hail a cab to get back to her hotel."

Jess frowns. "Why?"

Lenny takes a drag off his cigarette before putting it out and getting to his feet, offering Midge a hand. "Because stepping into that room would change what we are to each other. And she wasn't ready for it yet."

"You dance?"

Jess watches as Midge takes his hand and he gently leads her onto the dance floor.

He watches them, and thinks back on dancing with Rory at Luke and Lorelai's wedding. How comfortable that had been.

And suddenly, for the first time in any of these dreams, Lenny isn't talking to him.

"What's the matter? I'm not that bad."

Midge gazes at him. "I just can't think of anything funny to say."

Lenny agrees. "Me either. It's kind of nice, isn't it?"

Jess sits back, still watching as Midge rests her head on Lenny's shoulder, and he settles her hand onto his neck, holding her arm gently. And just like that, they go from Midge and Lenny...to MidgeandLenny. The MidgeandLenny that Jess has known since he was a dumb kid, with all of the tenderness and strength they always had with each other. For each other. Because of each other.

When he wakes up, he stares at the ceiling,

*****

He winds up coming clean to Liz one night on her front porch, over a couple of beers.

Liz shrugs. “You just miss him, Jess.”

“You really think that’s it?” Jess asks.

She nods. “I really do. He helped you a lot. He was invested in your wellbeing. In your future. And he bribed you with all those stories to get you to go to class. Luke told me about that. It’s hard to lose that kind of support.”

“So…what do I do?” Jess asks. “How do I make these dreams stop?”

“I don’t know that you can,” Liz admits. “It sounds like he’s sticking around, because he feels like you still need his help. So maybe…let him know that you’re gonna be okay. That he did a good enough job and that you can manage without him. Because he helped teach you how to.”

“That sounds so stupid,” Jess tells her.

She laughs. “I know it does. But you know, I dreamt about my dad for a whole year after he passed away. And we would just have these fights. About nothing. About you. About Jimmy, and Luke and my mother and everything in my life. I decided to send you here in part because I started having those dreams again when you were in high school.”

“That also sounds stupid.”

“Drink your beer.”

*****

He dreams of an open field in the middle of nowhere, and Lenny is next to him. Younger than Jess has ever seen him, in documentaries, dreams or otherwise.

Painfully young. Maybe twenty.

“I worked here before the war,” Lenny explains. “This farm. I really liked it, but when I came back from the navy nobody really…” he shrugs. “They didn’t really want me here anymore. No one cared that I had come back.”

Jess stays quiet, watching the contemplative look on Lenny’s face.

“And that feeling…that absence of belonging didn’t really go away until I found Midge,” Lenny says quietly. “But I always liked it here. I always meant to take Midge to see it, but I guess things were too busy. Family and work and whatnot.”

“You should stay,” Jess tells him. “Hang out here for a while. See if it still fits.”

Lenny lifts an eyebrow at him.

“I’m okay,” Jess assures him. “I am.”

Lenny still says nothing.

“I’m okay, because you and Midge didn’t give up on me like everyone else had,” Jess admits. “My mom. The town. Even Luke almost gave up a couple of times, before I pulled it together. Lorelai from the second we met.”

Lenny huffs out a laugh. “You made quite the impression on her.”

Jess smirks. “But you and Midge, you always had my back. And I’m grateful. And I’m okay.”

Lenny nods, looking him over and patting his shoulder. “Okay, kid. If you’ve got it from here, then you’ve got it from here.”

“I got it from here,” Jess confirms, looking back out over the landscape.

“Hey,” Lenny says. “Don’t leave the Rory thing too long. She’ss gonna find somebody else if you do.”

Jess chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

When he wakes up, he wakes up crying.

*****

Luke and Lorelai come back to town the next day, and Jess makes sure the diner is running smoothly, and everything is just the way Luke left it. They work behind the counter together, while Lorelai and Rory chat at one of the tables, and Midge joins them when she walks in, giving Lorelai a welcome home kiss, and patting Rory’s hand as they talk.

“You okay?” Luke asks, lifting an eyebrow at him. “You seem kinda quiet today, even for you.”

Jess nods “I’m good. Actually, you mind if I take a break?”

Luke shrugs. “Go ahead.”

He grabs his jacket and heads for the door. He catches Rory’s eye and nods, and she grins, promising her mother she’ll return shortly before following him.

“Hey,” she says, catching up with him as he heads for the gazebo. “Everything okay?”

Jess nods. “Everything’s okay. I think the dreams are done.”

Rory gives him a sympathetic look. “That’s good. That means you’re moving on a little more.”

He takes a breath. “I just wanna say thank you for letting me lose my shit on you a little.”

She laughs softly. “It’s really okay. Maybe I’ll turn that into a book one day, too.”

“Some poor asshole getting haunted by the ghost of Lenny Bruce,” Jess jokes. “There are a lot of hipsters who would eat that up.”

“Well maybe you should write it,” Rory suggests.

He shrugs. “Seems too personal.” He takes a breath. “Maybe I can buy you dinner tomorrow night as a thank you for putting up with my insanity?”

Rory smiles. “I’d like that. Like old times.”

“I was hoping literally,” he admits. “Like a date.”

Her smile falls a little, and she looks surprised. “Wow. A date? Like a…a date-date?”

Jess shrugs. “I’m in a good place, you’re in a good place…I thought maybe…why the fuck not?”

Rory smiles again, obviously thinking that over. “Why the fuck not. Okay. It’s a date-date.”

He nods. “Good.”

Jess nudges her shoulder with his on his way past her, back to the diner, but she reaches out for his coat and stops him, pulling him back, and into a brief kiss.

He blinks at her when it ends. “What was that for?”

Rory just smiles and gives him a gentle shove before heading back to the diner.

Jess shakes his head and follows.

END

#fic #au #the Schneiders of Stars Hollow #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny #Gilmore Girls #Jess Mariano #Rory Gilmore #Midge Maisel #Lenny Bruce #Literati #character death and grieving #mentions of drug use

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league-of-sam · 10 months

Text

Catching A Ghost | Simon 'GHOST' Riley

Ghost x Reader

CHAPTER SIX

Simon 'GHOST' Riley x AFAB!Reader!OC 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

Catching A Ghost: Masterlist

What the others hadn't realised, is that you'd finished your shower ages ago, and were now sitting at the bottom of the stairs in your shorts and hoodie.

Hair still wet, you leant on your knees with the polaroid in hand, hidden in the shadows.

"He killed them?" Price said, standing again.

"Apparently, he'd been given orders to shoot on the building, and mistook (Y/N) telling Sergeant Stevens to go as permission to fire."

"That's fucking ridiculous, why the hell wasn't he investigated?"

"The orders were from Shepherd."

"Did you know about this?" Price said, now pointing a finger at Alex.

"What? N-no, she never said-"

Price cut him off, seething, "You're her best friend, how did you not know about this?"

"That's hardly fair, Captain."

"What else, Laswell? That video was half-done." Gaz questioned.

"That was four months ago. We sent her out on another intel collective, solo. She said she was okay, but we had back up waiting...it was too late."

Laswell reopened the laptop, hitting play once again.

They watched as your bodycam caught your every move. You'd burst into a hideout, face masked, and completely unleashed all fury on the poor souls in the room.

By the end, you were covered in blood, breathing heavily, silently sobbing for your dead comrades.

You'd completely lost control and showed everyone exactly why you were known as the Reaper.

"She had a mandated two months' therapy, and that's when she and Graves called it off. He'd told her she should have been clearer, and it was her fault he missed the instruction."

Price rubbed his face, standing and walking into the kitchen.

Poor Rudy was holding onto Alejandro, trying not to throw up at the gruesome sights on the screen. Alex was white as a sheet; he knew you were good. Hell, he'd seen you kill plenty of times before, but that...that was terrifying.

Now the entire team knew your darkest secret, now they knew why you didn't want to be Reaper anymore.

The team was still dead silent, but once again, Ghost had clocked you.

That man was never not on edge, and after seeing that, guilt ate him from the inside.

He watched as you stared vacantly at the picture.

It was like you were hollow, and he knew that feeling all too well.

"It was my fault." You said softly.

Your voice startled the room.

Everyone turned to see you still sat, looking at the polaroid, and Price came rushing from the kitchen, crouching in front of you.

"I should have been better. I should have been clearer. It was my fault."

"Look at me, (Y/N), please," Price begged, resting his hands on your knees, "that was not your fault."

"But look what I did," you laughed bitterly, "killed my team, went psycho on another. I'm not safe."

"Is that why you've been so gruelling in trainin'? Trying to prove to yourself you can keep us safe?" he asked, and you nodded as the tears began falling. "Is that why you won't wear the mask in training?"

"I d-don't want to hurt any of you, I don't wanna lose control. I'm scared of who I am when I'm Reaper."

Price's head fell, trying to stop his own tears, not wanting to show such emotion in front of his team.

Your fingers picked at the picture, until a body blocked the light coming from the living room.

You looked up to see Ghost, who held out his hand silently.

Hesitating, you handed him the polaroid, and his gloved fingers tenderly brushed yours as he took it.

"You're not dangerous, (Y/N). You know that." Laswell said.

"Tell that to them!" you said, standing abruptly and gesturing to the group of men behind her, "They couldn't look more scared of me if they tried."

"We're not scared of ye, lass." Soap said.

"No?"

"Well, yes." Soap laughed, "But only in the way that we know not to cross ye."

"There's not a thing in this world you could do to make me scared of you, angel." Alex added, and the others nodded in agreement.

"Besides," Soap said, coming over to you, leaning in to whisper to you. "We've seen Ghost do so much worse, and he's a big softy under all that, even if he tries to hide it."

You let out a watery laugh then, a somewhat relieving sound for every person in the room. One by one, arms opened, embracing you tightly.

As you hugged Alejandro, Ghost made eye contact with you over his shoulder, and the two of you shared a nod.

The sound of your stomach grumbling broke up the loving atmosphere, and the boys immediately set to work in making you comfortable on the sofa, all of them rushing into the kitchen to make you food.

You giggled, and hugged Laswell, as she wiped the remnants of your tears.

"Trust them, okay honey?" she whispered. "They love you and they care."

"I know."

"I'll see you in a couple days, and I want you back in that mask by then, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am." you smiled.

You bid her a final goodbye as she left, the others still arguing in the kitchen.

Sitting down, you made yourself comfortable on the sofa, pulling out your mask and your polaroid, looking to them side by side.

"I know you're still there, Ghost." You spoke quietly, not to disturb the others in the kitchen.

"You really are improvin', aren't ya?" he said, moving out of the corner to stand near you.

"Fuck you."

He scoffed, but humouredly.

You didn't mean it, this time.

Looking up at him, you shuffled over, tapping the space next to you.

"Sit, please. Your height is kind of intimidating."

"Didn't seem to care for it when you were ripping me a new one earlier." He grumbled, but sat down next you, nonetheless.

"Yeah, well. I was mad." You laughed.

"You don't say."

"Wow, sarcasm? Lieutenant Ghost has a sense of humour?"

"I make jokes."

"When?"

"Sometimes. Ask Soap."

You let out a puff of air through your nose, looking over to him and smiling, "Well, thank you for letting me see that side of you."

When you said that, Ghost felt a little pang in his chest.

No one had ever thanked him for being vulnerable, and this was about as vulnerable as it got with Ghost. Maybe this was how it felt to be trusted. He was sure that if you hadn't wanted them to know about you, you'd had stopped it the minute you appeared.

He hadn't taken his eyes off you for the whole video. He got all he needed to know from the look on your face.

"Who were they?" he asked, handing the picture back to you.

You smiled, and apprehensively scooted a little closer.

When Ghost didn't recoil in horror or move away, you continued, "Well, there's me. That's Stevens. Then you have Orlando, Bradshaw, Machin, and Trace."

Ghost listened intently, staring at you as your mouth moved, telling little stories about your old team.

The picture in question was taken the year before, at Christmas. Your squad had been sent out to aid refugees escaping Iran. You were in the desert, tinsel wrapped around your guns, Santa hats in full display. You were in the middle, smiling widely, and the others matched you. Few small children clung to your legs or were playing around at your feet.

"Christmas used to be my favourite holiday. We always did something together, always made an effort to dress up and keep the joy alive."

"Me too."

"You, Ghost, favoured Christmas over everything else?" you teased, surprised.

"I used to."

"Why not now?"

The way he tensed up, shuffling from you and clearing his throat, told you that your question had offended him. You frowned, stuttering a little as you tried to find the words to say.

"S-sorry I...um, anyway, yeah. Just before we took this, Trace and Bradshaw had been chasing the kids..."

He only had his balaclava on now, and his gaze was intense as he listened to you continue. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks but tried to ignore as you continued your stories.

What neither of you had realised, was that Alex had quickly noticed the closeness, and almost pulled ears off the men in the room as he dragged them to the opening in the wall.

"That's the millionth time in two weeks I've caught him looking at her like that." He whispered.

"Like wha'?" Soap said, a mouthful of bread forcing his words out loudly.

"Shhh!"

"God damn it, Johnny, shut up." Price said, "what you thinking, sergeant?"

"I'm thinking, the big bad Ghost has a crush on your little sister."

"I think she likes him too by the look on her face." Alejandro added, with Rudy nodding vigorously.

"Ghost and (Y/N)? No way." Soap said.

"Sorry Soap," Gaz said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "not sure you'll get a chance in now."

Before anyone could make another comment, your laugh sounded beautifully from the living room.

You had your head thrown back, hands over your face as you giggled hysterically from whatever Ghost had said, who was also chuckling away.

The men smiled; it was nice to see you happy.

"He made her laugh. But his jokes are god-awful!"

"Better yet, he's laughing. I have never heard Simon Riley laugh." Price uttered.

The boys had waited on you hand and foot for the rest of the night, asking you to tell stories of your team, and anything else to get to know you more.

You were the most comfortable you had been in months, and finally felt completely accepted in the group.

As usual, as soon as everyone re-entered the room, Ghost retreated into the back of the crowd, but you didn't mind.

It felt like maybe, you'd finally got somewhere with him.

Now, you sat on the sofa, leaning up against Alex's chest, and your legs were propped up over Soap's lap, and he was absentmindedly tracing small shapes on your skin as you all chatted away.

"I have one more question." Soap said, and you rolled your eyes, amused while the others groaned.

"What's up, Soap?"

"What- and don't take this the wrong way- but what's a girl like you doing engaged to Phillip Graves?"

"Mind your words, hermano." Alejandro grumbled, but you put a hand up to stop him.

"Nah, it's alright. He's right. I wasted three years of my life with that arsehole. I deserve better than to be told I'm not good enough."

"That you do, love." Price said, leaning over the back of the sofa to place a small kiss on your forehead.

"He cheated, too, so that's always nice."

"What?" Alex exclaimed, sitting you up.

You turned, now tucked under Soap's arm.

"Yeah. Found out last month that he'd been fucking one of the nurses on the medical ward for the last three months of our relationship, and now they're dating."

"Well, he's a bloody moron for treating you like that."

"Thanks, Gaz." You smiled, "S'alright, just didn't do much for the ol' self-esteem."

"Well, if it's any consolation, we all think you are extremadamente hermosa. (extremely beautiful.)" Alejandro added.

You blushed, nodding in thanks, averting your eyes to your hands, where you twiddled your thumbs nervously, hands rising to play with the dog tags dangling on your neck.

"Thanks for being so accepting." You said quietly.

"We've all done bad things, who are we to judge ye?" Soap answered, squeezing you softly.

You smiled, leaning up to place a small kiss on his cheek, giggling at his shocked expression as his hand traced the space your lips were.

You stood, giving everyone else their own kiss goodnight, before hugging Price, and making your way upstairs.

You heard the others shortly follow, laughing as they mocked Soap for how hard he'd blushed.

You were about to slip into bed, exhausted from the day, when a knock so quiet you weren't 100% sure you'd heard it came from the other side of the door.

Placing your book down, you skipped over, opening it gently to see the last person you'd expected.

"G-ghost...uh, hey."

"You forgot this." He said shortly, holding out your mask and your polaroid.

"Oh, uh, thank you."

Taking the items from his hands, once again your fingers brushed against each other, and you leaned against the door, waiting as he refused to meet your gaze.

"You, uh, I... Welcome to the 141."

You smiled, knowing that that was probably the closest you'd get to an apology from the man.

At least he was trying.

Instead of answering, you decided to push your luck once more, and stepped forward. The man was almost a whole foot taller than you, and so you had to raise yourself onto your tiptoes as much as possible.

With one hand on his shoulder, you leaned in, placing a soft kiss onto his covered cheek.

"Goodnight, Ghost."

When you pulled away, you noticed his body was stiff, and frowned a little, but the way his eyes were contently closed told you that maybe, he didn't mind it.

You stepped back, moving to close your door, and then he spoke so quietly that you almost didn't catch it when he muttered to you, releasing a long breath.

"Call me Simon."

"Okay." You whispered back, nibbling your lip, "Goodnight, Simon."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

Closing your door slowly, you leaned against it, releasing a breath, and clutching the items to your chest.

Maybe being on a task force with the infamous Ghost wasn't so bad, after all.

And maybe, you were starting to understand all the rumours about how hot he was without even seeing his face.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #task force 141 #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost fanart #call of duty #cod mw oc #cod mw2 #cod mwf2 #callofduty #gaming #cod mw19 #captain price #john mactavish

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kenjidabunny · 1 year

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Cute But Deadly- Ch.1

Part: Chapter One

Fandoms: Elfen Lied, OHSHC

Pairing: OC x Hikaru/Karou Hitachiin

Summary: This is about my Elfen Lied oc Kyuu and her meeting the host club after escaping the government facility similar to Lucy. She meets Haruhi first.

Haruhi had enough of the host club’s antics for one day, sure she loved her friends and the club had grown on her immensely, but any normal person could only take so much of the ridiculousness that was the host club. Sneaking out the back entrance of the school in order to avoid everyone else; she didn't want to bump into any of the guys. She was sure they'd come up with some dumb extravagant activity and Haruhi just wanted to get home and get a head start on the laundry.

Though she was surprised to find she wasn't alone out here. There was a girl.. she didn't look as if she were a student of the school.. she looked rather dirty and scrawny with ragged clothes that hung loosely to her skeletal frame. Her mop of pink hair appeared a tangled mess and by the shininess of clinging grease probably hadn't had a shampoo or wash in a good while. The strangest feature being two bulbous protruding horns from either side of her head.

Despite her better judgment Haruhi couldn't help herself her moral compass compelling her to approach the stranger and make sure she was okay. She carefully came closer though gasped when she realized that the girl was literally sitting in the fountain of the school, seemingly uncaring as she was pelted by rain and drenched in knee deep water. "Hey! Are you alright?!" Haruhi yelled not wanting to trample further and get her extremely expensive uniform dirty.

The girl supplied no reply still sitting in the same spot un-moving without even a sign of having heard her. With an exasperated sigh Haruhi continued forward slipping her shoes off and pulling her pant-legs up to continue through the fountain of water with bare-feet. After trudging through the fountain, a couple more feet she was close enough to place her hand on the girl’s incredibly bony shoulder. "Hey are you alright?"

Slowly the girl turned toward her slightly; brilliant pink eyes looking up at her. "Frog." Was all she said.

"What?" Haruhi was confused.

She moved her arms forward and with extreme care uncupped her hands to show the frog she was holding. "I caught a frog. See."

Haruhi tried her best not to laugh despite how amusing this was. "Yeah. It's a cute frog.." She smiled kindly. "But you shouldn't be in the fountain... Heck you're all wet?! Have you been sitting in the storm?!" A rainstorm had been raging over the area and it appeared this strange lass had been sitting out here getting completely drenched.

She had no response except for a sneeze and sniffle that proved Haruhi's suspicion. "You're going to catch a cold." She stated matter-o-factly. "Come on.. you need to go home."

The girl shook her head though did stand up; she was short and all over generally petite. She was probably just a tiny bit taller then Honi-senpai. Haruhi noticed her lack of shoes or pants she only wore an old dirty white t-shirt that fit her like a gown. "What do you mean no..? You can't go home?" She questioned.

The petite girl answered with another shake of her head. By her appearance Haruhi should have guessed she had no home. She would assume once security found her loitering out here on school property she'd be kicked out and then.. who knows where she'd end up. Haruhi knew her dad would probably be out late so nothing was stopping her from inviting this stranger to tag along back home with her. "Would you like to come to my house? I can make us some food and you can have a shower." She suggested hoping she'd agree.

She looked rather caught off guard for a moment her eyes widening as she bit his lip and fiddled in place. "Me? Come home.. with you?" She rambled as if expecting Haruhi to be joking.

"Yeah. It'd be nice to have some company for tonight. Would you want to?"

She shyly nodded her head yes. She was flabbergasted by the offer and though she was unsure if she should accept.. she was hungry. Very hungry really. The last time she'd eaten had been many days prior.

"Good. Come on my house isn't too far from here." She said taking the girls hand. After releasing the frog she wordlessly followed her not letting go of her hand the whole walk home. Upon getting home Haruhi rushed her to the bathroom not wanting to get the floor wet and dirty.

The girl stood rather dumbly in the middle of the bathroom looking as if she didn't know what to do. Haruhi stepped around the girl and turned the tap on for her checking to make sure the water wasn't too cold or hot. "There's shampoo and stuff right here on the shelf."

Her answer was another confused stare as the girl nodded and came closer to the edge of the tub watching the water rain down from the spout.

"Okay. I'll bring you some towels and dry clothes. Just hop in the shower and wash up, yeah? I'll start dinner once you're clean." She encouraged before leaving the clueless girl to her own devices.

She wandered into her room changing into some pajamas and checking her wardrobe for some clothes for the girl. She looked as if he could fit her clothes somewhat comfortably. She gathered up some pajamas and knocked on the bathroom door. "I'm coming in, alright?" She prefaced before opening the door. She was shocked by what she was met with.

The strange girl was just standing idly under the water still wearing the hoodie that was completely drenched through with water now, the fabric sopping wet and soggy on her small frame. "Wo-Woah! Hey.. you need to undress before getting in!" Haruhi gasped as she thoughtlessly tugged off her own shirt and pants before jumping into the bath with her new guest.

"Undress..?" The girl repeated slowly having watched Haruhi she proceeded to copy shrugging the soaked heavy hoodie off of herself, Haruhi having to stop her before she threw it on the floor with her own clothing. She slung the garment into the sink to deal with later haphazardly.

The girl worried for a second as Haruhi looked pretty stressed out and she wondered if she'd done something wrong to upset the nice human. If the human stopped being nice.. she'd have to do something bad and she didn't want to do that again. She'd already had to hurt so many people and she dreaded having to do so again. To her delight, the nice human did not become mad, she instead turned to pick up a bottle of something from the side of the tub.

"Can I wash your hair?" Haruhi asked, she just wanted to get the bath over with before they ran out of hot water. And it seemed her house-guest didn't know how to take a shower. As soon as the girl nodded her head yes, Haruhi began to lather shampoo in her short pink hair.

To her surprise her hands met something hard and boney on either side of the girls head. Up until this point Haruhi had barely noticed the strange horns protruding from the girls head. They were shaped like cat ears and were white.. she paused for a moment just staring at her new discovery. "You have horns? I've never seen anything like this before.."

The girl winced away from Haruhi's touch as if she'd burned her or something. "You think they're gross don't you?" She accused, startling Haruhi by how aggressive the girl suddenly became. So the horns were a sensitive topic.. dutifully noted.

"Huh? Why do you say that? I don't think that at all." Haruhi defended herself as she continued to massage in the shampoo into the girls scalp. "I like them. They look like cat ears.. it's really cute. They suit you."

The girl spluttered as if not knowing how to reply. If she weren't facing away right now Haruhi would see the brilliant red blush on the pink haired girls face. She had never had her horns complimented before, she'd always thought of them as nothing but an ugly blemish. It was one of few characteristics of being a Diclonius.. so of course she hated them.

Once clean Haruhi guided her out of the shower dropping a towel on her head before drying herself off as well. Slowly she copied the other girls actions drying off her hair and body. She then changed into the clothes that Haruhi had brought her. Big and comfortable, though the pajama bottoms were too long and almost made her trip. The sleeves similarly too long and went past her fingertips.

Wordlessly she followed Haruhi out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, seeing the brunet begin rummaging through the fridge and cabinets to get out ingredients for whatever she was cooking. Haruhi took out vegetables and chicken and rice. She took out a cutting board to begin dicing the chicken breast up into smaller pieces.

"I hope you like chicken stir fry.. I already planned on having this and bought everything yesterday. If you don't like it I could try and fix something else for you."

The girl shook her head immediately. "I'm sure I'll like it. I'm not picky." She assured, she didn't have the luxury to be picky in the facility. She was given little choices on what she was given to eat, and none of it was appetizing. The scientists at the facility only provided bland tasteless blocks or gross gruel to them, they only cared about keeping them alive not what it tasted like. It was nutrient rich but absolutely disgusting to eat. It at the very least curved their hunger after a long tiring day of painful testing.

She went closer to the counter and that was when Haruhi held a knife out to her. The immediate instinct she had was to ready her vectors to attack, thinking the human was attacking her with a weapon. But Haruhi only held it out for her to take. So that's what she did hesitantly, she took the knife and turned to look at Haruhi for guidance.

"I thought you might like helping me chop some vegetables." Haruhi explained, pulling out another cutting board for her. "It'll go faster if we both chop. You look thin so I'm sure you're hungry."

At that the girl nodded and began cutting up veggies, cauliflower, broccoli, carrots, onions, snow peas.. it was definitely a lot. She barely recognized any of it but she just went about cutting it up into smaller pieces for cooking.

"So.. my name is Haruhi Fujioka. What's yours?"

The break of the silence caused her to pause halfway through chopping up a pepper. "Name?" She questioned, at a loss for what her name even was. She knew what the scientists called her: Kyuu. Which was the number nine in Japanese. As she was the ninth Diclonii kept in the facility. "It's.. well.. people call me Kyuu." She informed shyly, she knew it wasn't a real name by human standards.

"Kyuu? That's odd." Haruhi mumbled to Kyuu's annoyance.

"Well nobody asked you!" The pink haired girl huffed as she angrily swung her knife down on the veggies she was cutting, more aggressive then necessary.

"No-No, I didn't mean it in a bad way. I've just never met anyone called just Kyuu before is all." Haruhi quickly clarified, but Kyuu just grunted and looked away irritated still. "Which to me makes it a very unique name. I like it."

At that Kyuu once again flushed pink in the face and looked away shyly. She was struggling to understand why Haruhi was complimenting her so much, never before in her life had she been subjected to so much praise. In fact she was more familiar with getting nothing but insults. So she was immediately skeptical of if Haruhi was being honest or not.

She yelped in pain as she swung her knife too quickly and ended up nicking her finger. She held it with her other hand watching as blood began oozing from the small cut. "Ow.."

Haruhi gasped upon noticing what happened dropping her knife and bending down to look at the cut. Kyuu stammered away in fear but Haruhi just gently took her hand in hers, bringing it closer to inspect. "It's not bad.. just a little cut. But.. You gotta be more careful.." She muttered worriedly as she grabbed a napkin to press against the cut. "Hold it and I'll get you a bandaid."

Haruhi ran off to get a bandage for Kyuu's cut, leaving the shorter girl standing there holding a napkin against the stinging cut. She contemplated what was happening, she'd never in her entire life experienced something like this. Cooking with someone, bathing, she wasn't sure how she felt about it yet.. but to her shock she was really starting to like Haruhi. Warming up to a human was a scary thing she did not want to happen.

The brunet returned carefully wrapping the bandage around Kyuu's finger with a smile. "There." She said as she stood back up patting Kyuu on the crown of her head between her two horns.

"Do we need to cut up more stuff?" Kyuu asked nervously, fiddling with her hands anxiously, rubbing at the bandage on her finger curiously while staring off at the cutting board.

"Nah. I think this will be enough." Haruhi reckoned as she began to move onto the next step. "You were a big help. Chopping all this would have taken me forever." She laughed, the praise making Kyuu feel warm and giddy inside, strangely. Kyuu curiously watched as Haruhi took out a pan and oil dumping the chicken into it, at the same time putting the rice in another pot to cook.

As the chicken began frying up the smell wafted through the air smelling delicious. Kyuu heard and felt her stomach rumble noisily suddenly reminded of how hungry she'd been the last week. If Haruhi wasn't standing right there she'd probably would have tried to snatch a piece of still cooking chicken off the wok to eat. "Is it ready yet?" She asked impatiently.

Haruhi laughed again and shook her head as she continued to stir around the pan moving the chicken around so it cooked evenly. "No.. we still gotta add the veggies and sauce! And the rice needs to get done too."

Kyuu pouted hearing she couldn't eat yet, sighing she slouched resting her chin on the counter as she watched Haruhi move around the kitchen making their dinner. Thankfully, it didn't take too long. Once the food was ready, Haruhi put a heap of rice into each bowl and topped it with the chicken and vegetable fry up they made, now covered in a sweet spicy sauce. She sat the bowl down on the table with a pair of chopsticks. "Here you go. I hope you like it."

Kyuu wasted no time picking up the chopsticks and trying to dig in. She didn't seem to know what she was doing though, as she held one stick in each hand trying to use the tips like tweezers to pick up a bite, barely lifting any before it fell back into her bowl and she groaned in defeat. "You're not doing it right." Haruhi commented having observed Kyuu's struggle to eat with chopsticks. Meanwhile to brunet was idly chewing a bite of her own food.

Kyuu's face was one again red, but now with embarrassment. She resembled a cat even more now as if her hair should be standing on end and she should be hissing. Instead she just scowled and clenched her jaw as she placed the chopsticks on the table. "Those things are stupid. I don't want to use them."

Haruhi hummed furrowing her brows she stood to go look for another utensil for Kyuu. She found a fork but when she turned to present it to Kyuu, the girl was using her hands, grabbing handfuls and shoving it into her mouth. In the short minute it took for Haruhi to find the fork, the girl had already wolfed down most of her bowl, now leaving a bit of plain rice at the bottom. "Woah.. you must have been hungry."

Kyuu swallowed the mouthful she was chewing and then held her bowl out to Haruhi hopefully. "More?"

The human smiled and took the bowl putting more topping on the rice and giving it back to Kyuu, this time giving her the fork to use. By the time Haruhi had finished her bowl, Kyuu had already eaten three helpings by herself. "When was the last time you ate?" Haruhi asked without much thinking, she was just shocked by the girls insatiable appetite.

Kyuu shrunk down in her chair not seeming too keen on answering. She wanted to keep her past as secret as possible, she knew that her life depended on her not getting found by the government. She didn't think they'd let her live if they caught her.. she'd be killed immediately. She knew there were probably thousands upon thousands of people looking for her right now. A Diclonius escaping into the general public was a national emergency she'd imagine.

"Not for a while." She finally conjured up a vague response, taking another big bite of what was left of her third serving. She wanted to eat more it was so good and she'd been hungry for so long.. but she was so full she feared she'd bust if she took another bite. Her stomach wasn't used to so much food as it'd been empty so long.

She yawned loudly as exhaustion overcame her, now that she was full she was ready to lay down and sleep. Haruhi noticed how Kyuu struggled to keep her eyes open and her head appeared to droop as if too heavy to hold up any longer. It was honestly adorable. She stood and took their bowls to the sink to wash up, and put away the leftovers and an extra bowl for her father when he'd return home later.

When she'd turned back around she found that Kyuu had her head laying on the tabletop and she was fast asleep. Haruhi was surprised that the girl had passed out so fast in such an uncomfortable place. The rain was still pummeling down from the sky outside in the darkness. She didn't have the heart to ask the poor strange girl to leave; especially since Haruhi was almost certain she didn't have a home to go to. So the brunet decided that Kyuu could just sleepover tonight.

Haruhi gently woke Kyuu up the sleepy girl raising her head with a dribble of drool on the corner of her lips and half lidded pink eyes. "Huh?"

Haruhi smiled in amusement gently placing a hand on Kyuu's shoulder. "That's not a very comfortable place to sleep." She explained as she'd imagine Kyuu would have terrible body aches sleeping like that. "Let's go sleep in my room. You can have the bed."

Kyuu collapsed on the bed as soon as Haruhi had managed to get her up from the kitchen table and gestured her to the bed. The bed was the softest thing Kyuu had ever laid on. She made a small happy noise pressing her face into the fluffy pillow. Haruhi smiled watching her for a moment before switching off the light and going to get a comfortable spot on the couch to sleep while she waited for her dad to get home.

#ohshc #fanfic #anime fanfic #anime fandom #elfen lied #original character #oc x canon #slow burn #Hikaru #hitachiin hikaru #hitachiin kaoru #The Ouran High School Host Club & Original Female Character(s)#multichapter #multiple chapters #fanfiction #ohshc fanfic #elfen lied fanfic

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umbrellamedic · 9 months

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//The infamous bomb as pickup line thing. This hc will have to be pried out of my cold dead hands, and even then i will not give it up.

"Now that was a job well done!"

This new team is effective, but annoying.

"I say we go celebrate!"

Well. Some more than others. One more than others. Beltway, the demolitions man.

They're crowded in a conference room that may as well have been a broom closet, debriefed after their last mission- their first official mission as the new Delta Team- and getting ready to file out when the explosives expert starts talking. Bertha knows she is not the only one to roll her eyes at the suggestion.

They file out, more or less ignoring him on the way to their temporary quarters which are somehow smaller than the conference room. It'll be at least two days before transport is ready for them to each go home. Bertha has no plans beyond sleeping, maybe reading, and impatiently waiting to leave. It's ironic; while home she longs for the next mission. While working she wants to go home. Well. Once the work is done and not a second later. During the job she feels alive.

Hardly an hour later and there is a banging at her door that continues for the five minutes it takes her to give up on ignoring the noise and answer. Beltway on the other side of the door is not a surprise, but it is not welcome, either. He's apparently showered and changed into civilian clothes. He looks too casual in jeans, a Hawaiian print button down, a ridiculous fedora, and a grin that looks too sharp to be casual.

His mouth opens and spews something in appreciation of Bertha's outfit, but she's already covering his words with a flat, "No. Bother someone else." She's shed her mask and the leather overcoat and apron of her uniform; any civility awarded to the team has ended. Hell, if it were up to her none of them would see her in something as casual as the black tank she wears under her gear, now untucked over her pants. Pants she only put back on to answer the door. Dammit.

Unfortunately, Beltway is not the type to listen or care about how things would be in a perfect world. He's the type to barge in while Bertha is trying to close the door; what's worse is that he's strong enough to get away with it.

"C'mon, we're going out for a celebratory drink!" If he noticed the clear signs Bertha is sending that she's not having his shit, he's making no indication of it. "You're pretty much already ready! We're aren't going anywhere fancy."

"I am sure Spectre would love to go out with you. Tell him there will be vodka and he won't be able to resist. I am staying in tonight."

To emphasize her point, the medic was more than happy to forcibly remove her teammate. Unfortunately, the same bulk and muscle that allowed him to force his way in allowed him to remain Bertha's problem. That they were both well trained for close quarters removes any advantage Bertha normally had over large idiots who wanted her attention; the scuffle ends with Bertha pinned against a wall and a something small and beeping stuck to the back of her neck.

"Wouldn't fuck with that if I were you," Beltway doesn't have the decency to sound angry; he's amused and all to happy to show it, "It'll go boom if you don't disarm it first."

Bertha only pushed away from the wall enough to punch it once the demoman lets up. "If you think I won't blow us both up out of spite-"

"-It'll be too small to fuck me up that much. I'm not fucking stupid." He reaches out to ruffle Bertha's hair and gets his hand batted away for his efforts; this only makes him laugh, "I like them feisty."

The medic turns and glares daggers at her teammate. Once the device is off, she's killing him. Consequences be damned. She doesn't even try to sound any less angry than she feels, "Remove your little toy from my neck."

"Yeah, yeah. When we're done celebrating, sure. But by then I think you'll be glad I dragged your ass out. Get your boots on, I know a place."

…

As it turns out, Beltway has an actual name- Hector- and he does not know a place. What he does know is how to make people laugh and how to make nice with people who have no clue what kind of cruel, charming monster they're dealing with. All these people know places. Hector and Bertha get to know these places as well.

They're two bars and several beers in when Bertha gives up on arguing against Hector paying for everything.

They're five bars, many beers, and several shots in when Michaela slurs a demand that Hector calls her by her real name. She has to correct his pronunciation several times before he gets it.

They're another bar-this one with karaoke- and halfway through the worst rendition of Friends in Low Places- a shit song made all the worse by their drunk screaming of the lyrics- when Michaela realizes her face hurts because of how much she's been smiling.

They're too many drinks to count in when they stumble back and Michaela considers pulling him into her room for the night. Lupo does not appreciate how loud and drunk they are, which only makes Hector laugh louder.

They're in Michaela's pathetically small room when Hector tugs the little device off her neck- the one she forgot was there hours ago- without even pretending to disarm it first. This earns him a punch to the shoulder, but Michaela is too much a happy drunk to put too much force in, and Hector is too amused, too drunk, too sturdy to be bothered.

"It wasn't fucking armed, asshole!" Michaela sounds less angry and forceful than she wants, but part of that is probably because she's had trouble pulling her lips away from Hector's since they got to her room.

"Not even a bomb!" Hector is entirely too pleased with himself, "Just the light I use for decoys." He's had an equally hard time pulling his lips away from hers. "Wasn't gonna get chewed out for blowing up a teammate on purpose. Again."

…

They're two shots in at a bar turned safe house in Raccoon City when Michaela realizes just how deep in love she is- she has been for longer than she is prepared to admit to herself.

They're four teammates down in a parking garage when Michaela actually says the words 'I love you' out loud. She doesn't know if it's endearing or infuriating when Hector says it fucking took her long enough to admit it. But then he's saying it back and Michaela doesn't have it in herself to be mad at him.

They're one objective away from extraction and one explosion in. Hector was the bigger target. Bertha knows that even if, by some miracle, she does not succumb to the bleeding or burns or undead rushing towards the BBQ that her body has become, she is well and truly dead. Her heart has just been blown up next to her.

#i just really love them okay???#two really terrible people; this is absolutely Bertha's love language xD

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transmascnepetaleijon · 3 years

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i am

so fucking touch starved.

#all i want is to hug her why cant i hug her how do i end homophobia #i want to to watch movies with her and have her had tangld in my hair and have our bodies both smushed toghether on the couch #i want to stay up late with her just to talk to show her the pretty sky view from my bedrooms window #i want to share a box of take out outside my building and take polaroid pictures of us #i want to make breakfast with her and hug her from behind and have her tell me abot her dreams again #i want to show her how ridiculous my hair looks after i shower and laugh at iit with her #i want to take her to mcdonalds and teach her the little skateboarding i know and sit down at the abandoned little brick city in the park #i want to go to the ammusement park with her and take her to my favourite rides and have her take me to her favourite ones too #i want to have a picnic with her by the lake and do my stupid half joking flirting game #i want her to steal my glasses again #i want her to fall asleep on my shoulder at the movies again #i want to have nerd talks with her and i want to show her my drawing secrets and i want to open myself up completely so she can pry inside #i want to leave soft kisses on her cheeks and on her face and on the top of her head and if one day shes confortable with it i want to leav #i want to laugh loudly and i want my friends to know her and i want to know her friends too #i want my family to like her and i ant her family to like me too #and god i just realy want to love her and be loved back #i really miss her #and i love her so so so fucking MUCH #kinda confessing my love for someone via tumblr tags damn the lenghts i go #*incoherent screeching*

0 notes

tetsunormous · 3 years

Text

Reencounters

pairing: Matsukawa Issei x f!reader

genre: college au, friends to lovers, smut (18+), fluff

word count: 6.5K

warnings: cunnilingus, fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, swearing, nipple play, pinning

A/N: This is for Ria's @bakugohoex's rich boy collab 💜 Congrat's on 3k!! thank you to @ohno-otome and @armins-futon for reading this for me. I love matsukawa but I don't write for him often so this has been really fun :)

Walking into your new dorm room, you weren’t sure what to expect. Sure, you’ve seen the pictures online, but there’s nothing like the slightly dusty window letting in a hazy ray of light shining down onto the slight dip in the middle of the mattress you now call your own. Your desk almost touched the corner of your twin-sized bed, and your new bookshelf barely has enough room to fit half of the books you brought, but this was your new life. It didn’t dawn on you just how different university would be until you arrived this morning, but here you were, unpacking all your clothes into the cramped closet in the corner. Luckily, you’re in the building where you had a single room. Privacy was something you were worried about, and the communal washrooms will be something to get used to, but either way, this was a new start, and no matter how nervous you are, you’re grateful for it.

High school wasn’t terrible, but it definitely wasn’t what you expected it to be. Going into it, you obviously knew that it would be nothing like how the movies depicted, but you were excited. How bad could those four years really be if you had your best friend right by your side? He was incredible. He understood you better than anybody else, would be able to tell how you were feeling without the exchange of words, but most of all, he was your person, and you were his.

There was no doubting that in all your years of friendship.

But alas, like all good things in life, they must come to an end.

The summer going into the twelfth grade, he was longer your best friend. The boy that would go to the farmers market with you and your mom every other Sunday was now lining up for the newest sneaker drop. The boy that would rather spend the night at home and binge-watch your shared comfort show for the seventh time is now out with the boys sneaking into shisha bars and doing donuts in the community centre parking lots with their new cars. You watched as he slowly forgot about you, getting caught up in his new friendships and obsessing over material items that he never cared about before. It’s not that you were upset he found new friends. It’s that the only time he would reach out was to randomly drop off something he had bought you in hopes it would make up for him blowing you off again.

They started small, simple sweaters he knew you would like, but the gifts became almost ridiculous as time passed. He would never let you return them either, so now you have designer shoes for imaginary banquets. Of course, you were always grateful, but you would trade all his gifts just to spend time with him again. His family has always been wealthy, they always went on lavish vacations and drove the nicest cars, but you never really cared about what he spends his money on or just how much his parents make. You cared that he saw you as a person he wanted to be with rather than just someone he could shove gifts towards to make up for the quality time he’d miss.

But now you’re here. You were arriving three hours before the suggested move-in time because you didn’t want to be rushed to unpack before orientation starts later. You’ve seen a few people walking around on your floor, but neither of your neighbours have arrived, and honestly, you don’t mind because that means you’re able to blast your music without worry. As The 1975 fills your room, you stand still for a second, really taking in where you are. You’re now attending one of the best schools in the country, living on your own with a floor of people you don’t know yet. It starts to sink in that you are starting anew. The people who end up in the rooms next to you might just end up being your lifelong friends. As the song comes to an end, you decide it’s time to try to make yourself look a little more presentable since it’s almost time for people to start rolling in.

...

It’s almost five in the afternoon, and everyone on your floor is meeting outside on the field for a quick introduction before group dinner. You’re sitting with your knees pressed to your chest as the girl next to you tries to make small talk. To be fair, she’s incredibly sweet, but you can’t focus on her because somewhere behind you, there is a voice you think you recognize. There’s no way he would be here. Sure, you have no idea what school he ended up choosing, but if he ended up here, he would’ve at least texted you. Right? Before you can confirm your suspicions, orientation starts, and your group leader is already talking with more energy than you can handle.

The group of guys settle down close by, and you can’t stop yourself from looking over, wondering if you’ll see the head of brown curls. Instead, you’re met with a bunch of frat boy looking wannabes that instantly make your eyes roll. To say you’re disappointed that you didn’t see him was so stupid. It’s been over a year, yet here you were, hoping to magically bump into him as if this was some cliche movie. If anything, it’s frustrating. It’s frustrating that even though he stopped caring for you, you still longed to see him, to hear him laugh at one of your cheesy jokes. It’s even more frustrating that this new start you’ve been looking forward to, makes you miss him even more.

There are only sixteen people on your floor, but introductions take a lifetime because someone didn’t come on time. When they finally do show up, you almost laugh at this whole situation because, of course, it was him. Of course, he was strutting down the courtyard in some brand new Gucci sneakers and the same Balenciaga sweater he had bought for you a few months ago. Of course, the annoying group of boys behind you gesture for him as he quickly apologizes to the group leaders. And, of course, when you make eye contact, he’s the one looking at you with a mixture of shock and annoyance.

Quickly rushing back to your room after the meeting, you decide you’re ordering in tonight so that you don’t have to see him for at least another day. This is all so fucked up. You wrack your brain trying to understand how probable this whole situation is because, frankly, it feels like a sick joke, and on top of it, he’s the one annoyed?

Naturally, you spend the rest of the night unpacking the rest of your things before ordering your comfort food to wash down all the feelings you’re experiencing. Putting on your favourite show, you begin your tenth rerun as you bury yourself in your blankets. Part of you feels so stupid for completely ignoring your initial dinner plans, but you knew with the mindset you had at the moment, there was no way you would have enjoyed yourself. It’s a bit silly you haven’t left your room since picking up your takeout, you don’t even know who lives beside you, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

Slipping into your slides, you head towards the washroom with your little toiletry bag. You pass by the girl you were sitting with earlier, and she sends you a smile. After apologizing for disappearing all night she just laughs and assures you nothing happened. She even points out where her room is if you were up to hang out tomorrow during frosh activities.

Just this interaction makes you feel better, and you quietly hum along to the familiar tune coming from the shower stall.

He used to play this song all the time, claiming it spoke to him the first time he heard it. Since then, it became the song he would play anytime he’d come to pick you up, explaining how this song is special because the ending always reminded him of you. It didn’t matter how long it’s been since the two of you hung out. Every time you heard ‘Pluto Projector,’ it would always bring a smile to your face. You even tried to show the song to your ex-boyfriend, but he never paid attention to your suggestions. He always claimed that his music taste was better. Thankfully that relationship only lasted a couple of months, but still, the regret of not waiting for someone worthy lingers in your mind.

While applying your moisturizer, you hear the water shut, the person pausing the song right as the orchestra starts to come in. Worried about who you may run into, you quickly pack up your stuff. You hear the click of the lock, and as you turn around, you’re met with him, with his curly hair all damp and his obnoxious teal blue robe wrapped loosely around his waist.

Rushing past him, you briskly walk towards your room, but before you can close the door, his foot jams between the doorframe. He pushes his way in and quietly closes the door, only to be met with the unimpressed look on your face. He circles around your room, eyes searching for any trace of your past friendship before standing back at the door.

“What do you want, Matsukawa?” you ask impatiently. It’s bad enough you run into the one person you wanted to forget, but now he’s standing in your room with a matching frown.

Something indescribable flashes across his eyes, and you can visibly see his frown deepen at your question. Leaning against your door, his arms come up to rub over his face, peeking at you through his fingers before letting out a long sigh. “When did I become Matsukawa? I thought I was Issei.”

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips, and you realize how childish your grudge might be, but he has changed, and the man standing in front of you isn’t the same man you once called your best friend. “When you changed, Matsukawa. Issei was my best friend, and YOU are not.”

His eyes filled with confusion as his eyebrows furrow, taking a step forward towards you. “I’m sorry? I tried to stay in touch with you. You’re the one that stopped talking to me, so I’d try to send you things instead. How was I the one who changed?”

You stand there, staring at him for a second before shaking your head. “I can’t do this right now; I want to have a good day tomorrow, so I need to go to sleep. Please, leave my room.”

His eyes soften a little, and you can see a faint glimpse of his infamous lazy smile, “We both know you’re not going to be sleeping anytime soon,” he stalks over and kicks his slides off before sitting at the end of your bed. “Let’s talk about this because, frankly, I’m tired of watching you decide if you hate me every time you see me.”

The nerve of this man. The fact that he invites himself into your room, declares his stay, and then sits on your bed without permission. You don’t even know if he’s wearing anything under that robe as his hair is literally dripping onto your comforter. Regardless of what the situation is, this action alone has you seething. Turning towards your desk chair, you harshly pull out the slightly imbalanced piece of wood and sit down, silently questioning why he isn’t the one on the chair.

He watches you stomp around, and he kinda chuckles at your little tantrum, missing how easy it was to rile you up. Your glare at him would be a little scary if he didn’t see the way your lips mumbled to yourself. It’s honestly a little cute to watch you all frustrated with him even though he saw one of the shoes he bought you in your closet. Sure, they look brand new, but the fact that you brought them here with you must mean something.

The year you two spent apart has been really stressful on Matsukawa. He thought that you’d be happy that he could give you everything you wanted. He knew he wasn’t spending as much time with you as he used to, but he thought the gifts he spent hours lining up for would make up for it.

When you stopped returning his calls and texts, he was crushed. Everyone could see how he felt about you, but then he watched you get close to another man. Within two weeks, you were dating him, and he was left watching from a distance. Neither of you ever confirmed your feelings for each other, but he could tell that man wasn’t making you happy. He didn’t understand your different facial expressions, he didn’t care about what you had to say, but all he could do was watch the girl he wanted from the sidelines.

Sure, as time went on, Matsukawa also started talking to other girls. None of them ever became his girlfriend, he didn’t think it was fair to get with someone when he was set on you, but he had his fair share of hookups. He has money, a shit ton of it, but he never let that get to his head. It wasn’t his fault that he gained popularity when he started to get into name brands and upgraded his car, but none of that ever changed who he was — at least not to the degree you had him pinned.

He watches you carefully, your leg bouncing impatiently as your eyes glare daggers in his direction. He runs his hand through his hair and lets out a sigh, “what did I do wrong? You didn’t even give me a chance to fix whatever I did (y/n).”

The lamp in the corner of your room shines a dim yellow hue onto his features. His brows are knitted in concern as he leans forwards on his knees, his robe showing off a deep v down his chest. You can feel yourself freeze up at his question, goosebumps covering your skin, while your eyes pour into his. “You changed Matsukawa. You stopped making an effort to be there. I’m not some girl you can just buy with all your money. I have never cared about how much you have or what you can afford -- you know that! It doesn’t matter what. I always split things with you because I never wanted you to feel like I was there for your money. But then suddenly, you just stop showing up. You wouldn’t even tell me you made other plans, and I would just open my door to find some package you dropped off.”

His eyes search your face before letting out a deep sigh. “I tried! You wouldn’t answer any of my calls, I know I stopped explaining myself, but can you blame me? Don’t you think I want to take you around and introduce you to all my friends? Don’t you think I miss going on late-night drives with you to 7-11? Every time I would drive past there, you’re all I thought about. You and your stupid obsession with cheese taquitos and Arizona tea. Did you even think about how I felt when you decided to act like I don’t exist?” He hastily stands up and paces around in the confined space of your dorm room. He never raises his voice, so hearing him talk at a slightly louder volume was enough to let you know he was dead serious. “You know, I never stopped talking highly about you because as selfish as it is, those boys have an important family. They have the connections you dream about (y/n), so even when you started to ignore me to go out with that fucking ex-boyfriend of yours, I never said anything.”

He looks at you with pleading eyes before going to sit back down, his elbows now resting against his thighs. “I know you don’t care about my money, but I didn’t know how else to tell you I was still thinking about you. I tried to get you things that you’d like, things that you’d wear. But no, I had to watch you put on a fake smile and laugh at that asshole’s jokes while you stubbornly ignored me to the point I thought you had me blocked.”

Looking up at you through his curls, his hooded eyes looked darker before. His lips curled into a forced smile as he let out a breathy chuckle, “he didn’t deserve you. But what do I know, right?”

You sat there quietly, taking in what he had just said. You didn’t realize how hurt he was. To be frank, up till now, you were so consumed by your feelings, and you failed to consider his own. His head is hanging between his hands, and the silence in your room right now is insufferable. He’s just explained himself, yet all you can do is scoff at yourself. While you were obsessing over the fact that Matsukawa wasn’t coming over to watch another rerun of your favourite show, he was out picking out different gifts he thought you’d like. You didn’t even open the last few because your own emotions so blinded you. Hearing him take a deep breath, he stands up and smiles sadly at you, “nice talk, (y/n). Thanks for listening.”

“I’m sorry, Issei.”

He lifts his head to meet your gaze, and you can visibly watch as his shoulders relax. It’s been too long since he’s heard you call him by his first name.

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve just gotten out of the car to talk to you.”

You look at him with a small smile. Walking towards your bed, you sit down and pat the spot beside you, pulling him in for a hug. His robe is probably the softest thing you’ve ever felt in your life, your fingers sinking into the fabric as you hold him close. His arms are immediately wrapping around you, and you both stay like that for a minute before you pull back, a faint blush blooming on your cheeks.

“No, you have nothing to apologize for. You tried reaching out to me, you tried explaining yourself, but I didn’t even give you a chance. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I was so caught up I didn’t even think about what you were feeling. The fact that you still wanted to introduce me to your friends, even after all the stuff I did to you….I’m so sorry, Issei.”

He gives you a playful smile and lightly nudges your shoulder with his, “yea, that was kinda unfair, but good thing we talked it out, huh?”

You flash him a sheepish smile, but your eyes glimmer with happiness, “yea, it’s good you barged into my room at two in the morning. Just like old times.”

His smile instantly grows at your playfulness, and he gives you a mock scoff. “I’m sorry, but if I remember correctly, you’d beg for me to stay over at two am cause you decided you wanted to watch a scary movie. Have you gotten better with horror movies this year, or are you still as jumpy as I remember?”

The tip of your ears growing warm while you mutter out a quick “shut up.”

His laughter makes your heart beat against your chest because you missed it so much. It’s been a while since you got to hear him laugh with you, and without even thinking, you go in for another hug.

His arms easily hold you close, and one of his massive hands reaches up to pet your hair. “Missed me, didn’t you?” he asks, and you can feel him smirking, so you just nod, your fingers playing with the damp, short curls at the base of his nape.

“Issei?” you ask with a little murmur against his neck.

“Hmmm?”

You smile to yourself and pull back a little, so you can see his face, “so other than hanging out with your friends and keeping up with my relationship, what else have you been doing?”

His face drops as he looks at you with a deadpan stare, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a smile as you giggle at his reaction. He pushes you back, so you end up falling onto your mattress, his long limbs effortlessly straddling your legs. Before you can think about the position you’re in, his fingers start to poke all-around your torso, causing you both to laugh as he starts to tickle you. “You think you’re funny, huh?” His hands go to tickle your worst spot as he starts to talk, but you can’t hear him over your own laughter. His fingers slow down, but you keep giggling when you’re met with his lazy smirk, “I’m trying to talk, you know. It’s rude you’re laughing when I’m trying to speak to you.”

He leans forwards and has both hands resting at the side of your head. Your faces now inches apart, the faint smell of sandalwood from his body wash now becoming more apparent. You stare into his brown eyes, and it almost feels as if everything stopped for a few seconds. The lamp in your room doesn’t do him justice as the shadows of his face wash over his features, but even then, his eyes stare back at you with a slight twinkle as you catch your breath.

Reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and you tug him close, crashing his lips onto yours. The sweet hints from his beloved Burt’s bee’s lip balm make his lips even softer than you imagined. The kiss is short, but as you both pull away, he’s staring at you with a goofy smile.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that, (y/n).”

“Me too, Issei,” you whisper back before his lips capture yours again, this time with more confidence. This kiss is much more passionate than the last, holding onto each other in hopes of deepening it. One of his hands travels down to grab your waist, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip, asking for permission. Your lips part and your tongues swirl together effortlessly while your hands play with his hair, pulling him closer into your body.

His hand feels a little rougher than before against your bare skin because of how often he trains, running down the length of your leg. The light touch of his fingertips admires how smooth your skin is before they trail back up, stopping just before the edge of your pyjama shorts. Hooking your leg around his hip, he leans into your body even further and even nips at your bottom lip.

Matsukawa smirks and whispers against your lips, “did he ever kiss you like that?”

Slightly surprised at the question, you shake your head, answering honestly. “He never made me feel the way you do.”

You watch as his eyes dilate, flickering into a deep brown you’ve never seen on him. The hand that was previously on your leg is now cupping your cheek, stroking your face softly, while his own face blooms into a rare shade of pink. Still, his words are clear, “please...give me a chance? He never treated you right. Let me take care of you?”

Words can’t describe how his question made you feel. You spent years learning about Matsukawa, understanding him to the point where words weren’t necessary to see what was happening in his head. Not once did you think he reciprocated your feelings, let alone want to be with you. Yet, here you are, caged beneath his arms as his hopeful eyes pour into yours.

Turning your head slightly, you press a kiss onto his hand and smile. “Please?”

His face breaks into a smile. His cheeks are tinted rose as the corners of his mouth reach up to his eyes. Leaning down, he peppers kisses onto your face, the loose curls on his head tickling your cheeks as he giggles with you. The kisses trail down to your jaw, and he follows the natural curve of your jawline to your ear. “Is this okay?” he whispers softly, only continuing down this path when you give him a curt nod.

Your legs tighten around his waist when he begins to press open mouth kisses down your neck, gently nipping at the spots that make you let out shy little sounds. His tongue leaves kitten licks against your skin after he’s sucked on it, littering faint marks. Seeing you with light hickeys on the base of your neck and collarbones is completely self-indulgent for him. Thinking about waking up in the morning and seeing the marks he knows he gave you makes him inexplicably happy as he sucks particularly hard, causing you to wince.

Immediately he stops and turns to you, “I’m sorry, did I hurt you? D’you wanna stop?”

His concern for you is truly a breath of fresh air compared to what you had before. Shaking your head, you guide his hands to the edge of your sweater. “You bought this for me… it’s only fair I let you take it off.”

He studies your face for a second before his lips curl into a lazy smirk, quickly pulling the overpriced sweater off your body. He takes a sharp inhale when you reveal you aren’t wearing anything underneath as he’s met with your beautiful tits, nipples hard and pointed. “You let me in here knowing you weren’t wearing a bra? And here I thought you were a good girl.”

Noticing how your legs tighten around him, he smirks even wider. Leaning back down, his kisses trail down to your chest, and his lips feel soft and warm against your skin. His fingers take hold of your chin and force you to look down on him while his lips wrap around your nipple, the tip of his tongue flicking gently at the hardened bud. His hand palms against the fatty flesh of your other tit; his fingers are rolling your nipple before tugging on it experimentally.

Suddenly feeling shy, your arms come up to cover your face slightly just to have him lace his fingers with yours, pulling your arms away. “Don’t hide from me. Let me see how pretty you look. Let me hear how good I make you feel, okay?”

“I’ve never had someone play with my tits like this…”

He just stares at you, brows knitted as his smirk turns into a slight pout. “You’re with me now; that means every part of your body will be pleasured. I wanna hear and see all of you, okay?”

With a shy nod, you gently roll your hips against him, inviting more of his attention.

He kisses you once more, murmuring against your lips, “you’re so beautiful. Let me know if I’m going too fast, okay?”

His lips follow down your body once more, lightly biting your tit before using the flat part of his tongue to feel the valley between your chest. Matsukawa lets out a low moan as you arch upwards, pushing yourself closer to his touches. Letting go of your hands, he begins to massage the soft flesh of your tits and kiss down your stomach, the tip of his tongue trailing against the waistband of your shorts.

“Let me hear you ask for it; I don’t wanna do something you don’t want.”

“Isseiiii, please?” you whine out, the tip of your ears turning hot at the thought of asking for his tongue.

He smirks at you, looking up through his hooded eyes and tsks. “Be a good girl for me. Use your words.”

His words go straight to your pussy, and you can’t help the doe eyes look in your eyes when you whimper out, “please, Issei? Wanna feel your mouth on me.”

You watch as he takes in a sharp breath, the hunger in his eyes shining through despite the dim lighting in your room. He tugs at the end of your shorts until they’re completely off, repositioning himself lower until your legs are resting around his biceps. His eyes zone in on the way a sheer layer of slick coats your lips, happy that the attention he’s been giving you has pleased you. As he shimmies down on your bed, his legs now supporting himself on the floor, he nestles himself between your legs, easily spreading your things open with his arms. Sending you a knowing smile, he blows cool air directly onto your clit, loving how your walls flutter for him.

“You’re so sensitive, baby.”

“No one’s ever made me feel like this before...want more, please?”

You look down at him with pleading eyes, your hands cupping his face when you speak. Pressing a quick peck to your hand, he hips his head down and traces your pussy lips with his tongue, savouring how you taste.

The gasp that you let out once you felt his touch was adorable. It suddenly became the sound Matsukawa will chase after the more he gets to know your body and what it likes. He takes one long lap up your pussy, stopping just before your clit and using his fingers, he spreads your lips even more. Once your clit is all exposed, he flicks it gently with the tip of his tongue, looking up at you with all the confidence in the world. Hearing your little moans make him greedy for more, for more desperate and needy sounds, so he goes to press a kiss onto your bundle of nerves. Feeling you twitch beneath him, he gently places his lips around the sensitive bud and sucks earnestly, relishing in the way you buck your hips and call out his name. After a while of pure clitoral stimulation, he leans back up to watch your eyes blink back into focus on his face, a silly dazed smile on your face.

He winks at you and sticks his tongue into your drooling hole, swirling it around to feel the walls of your pussy clench around him. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he nuzzles his nose against your clit, his cock getting unbearably hard at the way you pant our pleas.

“I-issei! Please….need you inside, please!”

Coming back up for air, his hand leaves your thigh as his fingers start to tease around your hole, loving how your pussy clenches around nothing. So needy for his touches when he’s barely even started. He knows your orgasm was building, but he wants to take his time with you. You mean the world to him, and seeing you like this already makes him feel like the luckiest man at the moment.

Taking two of his fingers, he coats them in all your slick before slowly pushing them inside you. His eyes squeeze shut when he feels how tight you are, his mind immediately thinking about how you’d feel wrapped around his cock. When he’s finally inside, he pulls out slowly before sliding them back in, loving how you beg for more.

“Need more, please, Issei! Go faster, please.”

Your hands pull his head up to kiss you while his fingers begin to speed up. With the lewd sound of his hand slapping against your sopping wet pussy, his palm is applying pressure to your clit. Your moans are lost in your kisses, his other hand going back to playing with your sensitive nipple.

“I have to stretch you out, babygirl. I don’t want my cock to hurt you.”

All you’re able to do is nod as his fingers start to scissor your hole, stretching you out even more. His fingers, now knuckle deep, curl against your sweet spot, making you grip onto his hair as he swallows all your cries, suddenly remembering that the walls in this dorm probably aren’t that thick.

His fingers curl into you more, whispering sweet praises as his hand teases and tugs on your swollen nipple. Everything happened so quick, and you’re cumming all over his hand, your sweet sticky arousal covering his fingers as he slows down. Matsukawa is smiling down at you, “you did so well, baby. Bet that felt really good, huh?”

Maybe you’re needy or just horny, but even after your orgasm, you start tugging the tie that keeps his robe up. Your legs are sore, sorer than they’ve ever been, but all you can think about is how full you would feel with him inside of you. He smirks at you as he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking off all your juices before letting his robe fall and chucking it to the ground. He’s wearing his briefs, but you can see how hard his cock is under the thin cotton material. Before you’re able to pull his underwear down, he stops you and lets out a small chuckle. “I’m sorry, I don’t have a condom. We don’t have to do anything.”

You giggle and shake your head, “don’t need one; we’re in university, baby. What’s a little fun without risks?”

He lets you pull his underwear down, and his massive throbbing cock instantly slaps against his stomach as he laughs at your reaction. “Had to make sure you were stretched out enough.”

You bite your lips and stare at how big his cock actually is. It’s hard to imagine how you’ll fit that inside of you, but you’re determined to give it a try.

“You ready, pretty girl?” he asks as he taps the tip of cock against your clit, loving how you squirm under him.

“mmhmm, Issei.”

He lets go of his cock and leans up, and pulls you into a deep kiss, completely in awe of you.

“Tell me if you wanna stop, kay?”

Replying with a small hum, he gathers up the remaining slick that’s leaking out of your pussy and strokes his cock slowly, also letting his spit drip down to help lubricate himself. He lines himself up with your pretty pussy and starts to push the head in, studying your face to make sure you’re doing alright. When he sees you smiling back at him, despite the grip you have on his arms, he pushes another two inches inside of you.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. We’re almost halfway,” he whispers into your ear as he kisses your neck softly, sucking on the spot by the base of your lobe. “Such a good girl for me,” he coaxes as his cock slides another inch into your sweet cunt.

Incredibly, he’s only halfway down because you’ve never felt this full before. Still, your fingers dig into his arms when you ask for more. “Just want all of you in me, please?”

Hearing you ask for more even though you already looked fucked out sparks something inside him. He lets out a low growl and quickly pushes the rest of his length inside you, mumbling sweet nothings against your skin. He moans out with you when he feels how warm and tight you are, your pussy stretching more than it ever has to accommodate his size.

“Feel s’good, Issei.”

With a breathy chuckle, he peppers kisses all over your neck, loving the sound of your soft giggles as he pulls back three-quarters of the way, slowly pushing his way back into you. The gasp you let out is different than before, much more surprised but sensual.

He continues this motion a few more times before he picks up the pace, his hips slamming against you while your tits bounce. Each thrust knocks the air out of your chest cause he’s brushing against your spot every time. Matsukawa leans down and presses his forehead against the crook of your neck, muttering how good you feel.

“F-faster...need you faster, is’o good, please.”

Obliging to your pleas, he starts to rut his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin with each movement. He looks up to see your dreamy eyes and smiles. He knows there’s not a thought behind those eyes right now as his cock slams against your walls with each thrust. He goes to kiss you again, silencing your cries as your nails drag down his arms, trying to ground yourself in the midst of all the pleasure.

“You’re s-tight baby I- fuuuuuck, I can barely move.”

You can’t help it. Your walls are naturally squeezing him because he’s fucking straight into your sweet spot with each snap of his hips. You look at him with hazy eyes, entirely in a trance as you moan out his name. He can tell you want to cum, so his hand reaches down to rub your clit as his cock continues to pound into you.

“C’mon baby, cum all over my cock. You can do it...ah shit, yea, just like that.”

He’s been trying so hard not to cum but watching your back arch into him as your nails drab down his back, his name falling out from your lips in a loud erotic moan, is making it really hard. He looks down in surprise when he sees a creamy white rim around his cock, proud of himself for making you cream.

“Good girl...that’s my fuckin girl.”

Satisfied he made you finish, his head falls back onto your shoulder, his hips just rutting into you as he chases his own orgasm. Not even a minute later, he’s calling out for you as he quickly pulls out, cumming all over your tits. His chest heaves along with yours, his hair sticking to his forehead slightly as he empties his load all over your chest.

Once you’ve both calmed down a little bit, he smiles down at you and goes to stroke your cheek. “Had you creaming on my cock, was it fun? Did you have a good time?”

“S’good...thank you, baby,” you say before pulling him down for a kiss.

He gets up and reaches for his robe, “you did so good, took me like a champ heh. I’ll be back with a rag to clean you up, okay? Don’t move.”

As he leaves your room, you stare up at the ceiling and let out a laugh. Not even twelve hours ago, you were cursing the fact that he was here with you, and now you have his cum all over your tiddies as he goes to get stuff to clean you up.

You watch as he comes back into your room, fully changed with a rag in his hand. He kneels beside you and pets your hair as he starts to wipe his mess.

“Why’re you changed?”

“Oh! We’re going to 7-11 once I get you cleaned up.”

“.....it’s like three-thirty in the morning.”

“I’ll get you taquitos and Arizona,” he says as he goes to wipe around your pussy, mindful not to put too much pressure cause you’re still sensitive.

“And skittles?”

He snorts and kisses your shaking thigh, “yea, I’ll get you skittles, brat.”

taglist: @plutowrites @armins-futon @arte-misa @strawbari21 @matsusimp @bokutomessy @mentaly-ill @arumiee @kvrooschibichan lmk if you want to be added to my tag list

#rich boy collab #matsukawa #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa smut #matsukawa issei smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu matsukawa #tw unprotected sex #dark

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fortuositywritings · 3 years

Text

Love Bug (Wanda x Reader)

Summary

So when Peter is bitten by a spider, he gets cool superpowers; but when you’re bitten by one, you get loopy and say things you never meant to say.

“I can’t get your smile out of my mind. I think about your eyes all the time. Beautiful but you don’t even try.”

Word Count: 5688

Warnings: None unless you count someone fainting and mention of spider

*********************

“That is freaky.”

“Come on, you’re impressed. Just say it’s impressing.”

“It’s impressingly freaky,” you say tapping on the glass of the container that holds Peter’s new tech. “Stark really took taxidermy to the next level.”

“Relax. It’s mechanical. It needs a name. I’m thinking ‘RoboSpider’,” Peter says enthusiastically as you are both watching the metallic spider crawl in its container. It looks so real. It’s creepy.

“That’s a stupid name,” you turn to Peter.

“I think it fits him.”

“Of course you do, Spider Boy,” you reply. Peter just scoffs.

“What does it do?”

Peter narrows his eyes on the spider. “I think it has a camera for surveillance. I’m sure it does something cool.”

“Didn’t they tell you when they gave it to you? Or give you a manual or something?”

“No, they don’t know I know about it yet, but I’m sure we can figure it out,” he says as he begins to open the container.

“What do you mean they don’t kno-”

“What are you two doing?” The unexpected voice behind you has you and Peter turn around wide-eyed so quickly you could Pietro a run for his money. You and Peter stand in front of the container and let out a panicked, “Nothing!”

You finally take in whom the voice belongs to and the panic washes away from both you and Peter. You honestly should have known who it was off the bat when that very damn voice haunts your dreams. Well, ‘haunts’ isn’t really the right word.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you sigh in relief as Wanda approaches you both.

“Just me?” she quirks an eyebrow.

And suddenly, for reasons unknown (you know the reasons, you just won’t admit them yet), the panic comes back and you begin to ramble, “Yes, I mean NO! I mean yes you but not like ‘just’ you, you know? Like ‘it’s only you’ - er ‘it’s you only’ but like a good ‘it’s you only’ as in we’re glad it’s you and not someone else who came in -”

“Y/N, I think she gets it,” Peter stops your ramble.

You see Wanda giving you what seems to be an amused smile. You feel your cheeks heat up as you try looking anywhere else. Is it getting hot in here?

“Well, I was looking for you to ask if either of you wanted to watch a movie named ‘13 Going On 30’? Pietro says one of the characters looks like Bruce.”

You look to Peter to answer. You don’t think you can open your mouth anymore without embarrassing yourself.

“Yeah, we’ll be right down,” he replies with ease, lucky asshole.

You finally look at Wanda as she gives you a parting smile and you give an awkward one in return. Your eyes follow her until she is out of sight.

“You’ve got it bad,” Peter teases.

“Shut up,” you reply as you turn your attention back to the container.

Peter continues, “Like I thought I was bad at talking to girls-”

The empty container. Panic seems to be the mood for today as it comes back full force.

“Peter.”

“-but that was like next level.”

“Peter!”

“What?” he finally turns to you.

“RoboSpider is missing.”

“Aha! See, it’s not that stupid,” he says with a victorious smile on his face that quickly falls, “Wait what did you say?”

You simply point at the glaringly empty container.

“That’s not good.”

You give Peter the most sarcastic face you could muster.

“Help me look! It couldn’t have gone far,” Peter gets on his knees and begins searching for the spider.

You frantically search countertops, “Does it not have an off switch?”

“I don’t know.”

“Obviously or this wouldn’t be happening right now!” you whisper scream.

“Here, RoboSpider. Tsk tsk tsk. Come on out, boy,” Peter starts calling.

He looks ridiculous doing so from the floor. You step in front of him.

“You really think that’s going to work?”

He looks up at you and shrugs. You feel like you’re a minute away from sweating. Less than a minute based on the tickling sensation on your neck. Maybe Peter can tell to cause he’s looking at your neck, his eyes widening. You don’t know why it’s so shocking you’re sweating as he should be too because if Tony finds out you lost RoboSp- the damn spider, he will have your heads.

“Y/N, don’t freak out.”

Why did he have to say that? Freaking out is in your very nature. You do it so well. You’ve been doing it all day. Suddenly, you are all too aware of what you thought was sweat tickling your neck but now realize, unless you have discovered a new ability and become a water bender, sweat does not move like that. You close your eyes and try to steady your pulse. Don’t freak out.

“Peter. get. it. off.”

As hard as you tried to stop it, your pulse begins racing again as Peter slowly rises to his feet grabbing a cup and a paper from the counter. “Relax, I don’t think it bites.”

You open your eyes and ask once you see Peter reaching out, “Why the paper and cup then?”

“Precaution.”

You feel the spider still and somehow that pushes you over the edge. Your pulse goes into overdrive, your whole body breaks into goosebumps, and you finally let the urge to swat at your neck take over. It’s as if Peter and the spider sense this. All too quickly, the following happen: you bring your hand up to smack at your neck, Peter races to it first with the cup, and the spider bites down.

“Ow, shit!”

“Got it!”

Peter smiles triumphantly as you rub at your neck. He places the spider back in its container and properly closes it.

“You said it didn’t bite.”

“I also said not to freak out. Are you okay? Let me see,” he takes your hand off your neck to check the bite.

“Is it gross? Is it red? Green? Pulsing? Am I gonna die? Peter, say something!”

“It’s not there. I don’t see any bite. I think you might have just smacked yourself with your hand.”

Your hand comes back to your neck as you feel around. You don’t feel any bump. You take out your phone to look for a mark but don’t see one.

“Count yourself lucky, Parker,” you glare at him over your phone.

“Okay, but you should have seen your face,” he laughs as you both exit the lab. You just roll your eyes.

As you are walking to the common space, you feel your legs go a little numb. Peter notices you walking funny.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you assure him, “I think I’m still a little shaken up is all.”

You stop Peter right as you’re about to turn into the common space. You warn him, “We do not speak of what happened in the lab.”

Peter raises his hands up in defense, “Hey, I’m not trying to get in trouble either.”

“Okay, good.”

“Great. Now let’s join everyone and watch Bruce’s twin on screen while you stare at Wanda the whole movie.”

You smack his arm and then grab it leading him into the room as you comment, “Okay, but like that guy really does look like Bruce. How have I never noticed?”

That you didn’t deny the Wanda comment is not lost on either of you.

You can already smell the popcorn in the air right as you walk in. You immediately spot Wanda standing by the TV talking to her brother who seems to be growing frustrated with the remote. You note everyone who has joined you for the movie. Bucky and Steve are sitting on the long couch talking. Bucky looks like he had just woken up from a nap, his shirt wrinkled and hair slightly sticking up on one side. Steve is freshly showered wearing his usual attire. With his muscles showing through his shirt and his posture even as he’s sitting down, he looks untouchable, but you know differently with the bandage on the side of his forehead covering a wound he claims to be from a mission. Turning your head a bit more, you see Nat and Clint heading over to the couch with buckets of popcorn. Both are dressed for the gym but neither looked sweaty so you assume they decided to watch the movie instead. Farther down you see Bruce kneeled beside the single massage chair people usually fought over. You think he’s lost something under the chair.

You turn back to Wanda. She looks so soft in her matching sweats and crew neck sweater that you had not noticed she was wearing earlier. Granted, you were busy freaking out about getting caught with the spider. You can see her eyes shining bright and lips form a line as if trying to hold back laughter. She looks so carefree in the moment and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone so ethereal as she crosses her arms covering the bottom of her gorgeous cascading hair that always tempts your fingers to touch.

I wonder if it’s as soft as it looks.

“What is?” Peter says breaking your reverie.

“What?” You turn to look at him.

“You said you wondered if it’s as soft as it looks.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Do you think we should go help Pietro? He looks like he’s struggling,” you change the subject.

“Yeah, it’s kind of painful to watch.”

You and Peter walk over to the twins. Wanda spots you two first and gives you both a friendly smile. Trying not to look silly standing there blushing, you clear your throat, “Having trouble there, McQueen?”

Pietro looks even more exasperated after your comment.

“Once again, Y/N. Your teasing is of no use if I do not know what you are talking about.”

You roll your eyes, “I swear, one of these days it will be my turn to pick a movie and rest assured, it will be Cars. Now what is wrong with the remote?”

“I press up and down but it is moving side to side on the screen. And then I press the off and on button but it does not do it on time. It is broken.”

Peter takes the remote from Pietro.

You hear a quiet giggle from Wanda. You look at her and can clearly see her holding in laughter. You throw her a confused look wondering what could be so funny to have her like this. She nods past your shoulder so you turn to look. In your line of vision, you see Bruce fiddling with a remote on a massage chair that looks out of control rocking Bruce forwards and back over and over. You turn slightly to see Peter on what you now understand is not the TV remote pressing the up and down buttons. It is single handedly, the funniest goddamn thing you’ve witnessed. How Wanda kept it together that long, you don’t know because you do not last a second when it all clicks in your head. What you do know is Wanda’s laughter is the loveliest sound you’ve ever heard. Forget your favorite song of the month. You could hear her laughter on repeat forever.

Everyone in the room turns to look at the two of you laughing. Finally, after calming yourself down and wiping the tears from under your eyes, you wordlessly take the control from Peter, walk on over to Bruce, trade remotes with him, walk back over to Peter, and give him the correct remote. Everyone laughs save Peter, Bruce, and Pietro who look embarrassed.

“For two of the smartest people I know, that was just absurd,” you tell Peter. “I mean I get Pietro, but you Parker. Shame.”

“Hey! I understood that one,” Pietro replies.

Wanda just giggles beside you and you don’t know if it’s simply because of the whole control fiasco or because of her laughter that you feel so light inside. So light and happy in fact that for the first time since you met her, you look at her and you give her an honest to god genuine smile first. It is not an awkward smile you returned but one you gave her first without feeling shy or embarrassed. This time Wanda is giving you what you think looks like a shy smile though you know that could just well be wishful thinking. It is a smile nevertheless and it makes you feel like you are flying. You actually have to look down to make sure your feet are on the ground. You only look back up when you hear her voice again.

“I’m going to get some drinks. Y/N, come with me?” She nods her head toward the kitchen.

Quick, what do I say. “Of course, I’ll come with you anywhere.” NO! Absolutely not. That sounds dirty.Yes, I’ll follow you anywhere. Nope. That one sounds creepy. Oh, god. Now she’s looking at me weird. Oh my god, please don’t be reading my mind right now.

“No, you are very much saying everything aloud right now,” you hear Pietro say. You see color rise to Wanda’s cheeks. You turn to Pietro and Peter and if anything goes by Peter’s shocked face, you very much did say everything out loud. Pietro’s face is so damn smug as he passes by you and whispers, “I personally think ‘I’ll follow you anywhere’ sounds romantic.”

Peter follows closely behind Pietro and just gives you a shrug that says “what am I supposed to do?” when you give a desperate look that screams “HELP ME”. You close your eyes as you turn back around to Wanda.

“Can we just pretend I said ‘yeah, sure’ and nothing I actually said?”

You hear her say, “If that is what you want, okay. Now let’s go. I don’t think they will wait for us to start the movie.”

You finally open your eyes when you feel Wanda tug on your arm. She doesn’t let go until you make it to the fridge and when she does you feel warm where she touched you. You really need to get it together. She opens the fridge and takes out several sodas. As she hands you a few to carry, your fingers brush and though the cans are cold, you know they are not the reason goosebumps suddenly appear along your arm. You clear your throat and take a quick step back. Maybe a little too quick as you bump into the counter.

“Are you alright?” Wanda asks.

Embarrassed you answer, “Yep, totally cool.” Totally not thinking about how badly I’d like to hold your hand or anything. Nope. Totally cool. “Awesome. Excited really to um watch the movie.”

She looks up at you with rosy cheeks and a confused look. You can’t blame her. You don’t even know where you are going with this.

You feign hearing something from where everyone else is.

“I actually think I hear the movie playing. We should um go. We don’t want to miss the-the start and everyone is probably thirsty,” you stutter walking backwards back to the TV viewing area.

You turn around and shake your head at yourself. You can hear Wanda’s footsteps following not too far behind. You both begin handing out sodas to everyone who decided to watch the movie. You stand off to the side with the soda you were left with looking for where to sit. Bruce was still sitting in the massage chair that is now working in the way he likes. Nat, Bucky, Steve, and Clint sit on the longer couch. Pietro lies on his side on the floor right in front of the TV. Lastly, on the smaller couch sits Peter and now Wanda. Seems like you will be taking the floor as well.

You decide you’ll sit by Pietro. Better this way than sitting by his sister who is looking at you so intensely as if studying you or trying to figure what you are thinking without actually reading your thoughts. You know she wouldn’t do that if she could help it. She respects everyone enough to not invade their minds. Little does she know she invades yours everyday in the least expected way.

Just as you are about to sit, Peter calls your name, “Oh, Y/N, here you can have my seat.”

Fucking well-mannered asshole, you think to yourself. But then you are not so sure you kept that in your head after you hear Pietro chuckle.

You walk on over to the small couch as Peter crouches to the floor. You’ve been trying to avoid Wanda’s gaze but the closer you get the harder it is. You finally look at her and her gorgeous eyes that always make your head spin. You’re rather dizzy by the time you make it to the couch.

No, but like actually dizzy this time. Maybe you are coming down with something. That would actually be a godsend at a time like this. You don’t think you can last a whole movie sitting so close to Wanda.

You actually do feel a bit better sitting down. She gives you a small smile which you awkwardly return. Great. Back to awkward you. You stare down to the unopened soda can in her hand - orange soda. You know she isn’t going to drink that. Fortunately for her, you hold her preferred drink - Dr. Pepper.

“Here. Trade you,” you offer your drink to her.

“Oh!” She looks surprised, but pleasantly surprised you’d say based on the smile on her face when she sees the drink you are offering. “Are you sure?”

“Very,” you say. “I like orange better.” Lie.

“Thanks,” she takes the drink from your hand and gives you hers. “You know, this is actually my favorite.”

I know.

“Well then good thing I sat here as it worked out for the both of us,” you respond, your nerves settling down somewhat letting your body relax on the couch.

Of course that doesn’t last long when she also leans back comfortably looking you dead in the eye as she says, “Yeah, lucky me.”

You swear you feel your heart skip a beat, possibly a whole 16 bars worth. Then you think your heart stops beating all together when she leans her side into yours. You are pretty certain the couch is spacious enough to have no touching happening. You are in no shape to say anything though as you are basically trying to catch your breath while the movie plays. When you finally do breathe in deep, you suddenly wish you hadn’t. All you can smell is her shampoo.

How can anyone smell so good? It should be illegal. What is it, strawberry? Smells a little like flowers too.

“Good nose,” Wanda whispers, leaning more so into your space giving you a mini heart attack. “It’s strawberry shampoo and the lotion is rose scented. I can show you later if you want? Here, smell it.”

Wanda practically shoves her wrist under your nose. You are trying to remember the words to “Hail Mary” because this just might be the moment you die. You hesitantly sniff her wrist and though you wish you could stay there until all the oxygen in your body is replaced by that scent you quickly pull away.

“Yep, roses.”

You turn to give her a quick smile and shit she’s close. Any closer and you’d be bumping noses. You linger there for what feels like forever but you know it’s more around 5 seconds, 4 seconds longer than you would have ever allowed yourself before. Your throat goes dry.

“Sorry,” you whisper quickly as you turn your head to the TV to try to distract yourself. You pop open your soda and nearly chug it down all the way. Wanda is quiet beside you seemingly invested in the movie as she takes sips of her soda but you know she is not following along because every other minute you see her glance your way from your peripheral vision.

You feel her pull away from you and get off the couch, and you almost sigh in relief until you see her come back with a blanket. You finish off your soda and leave the can on the floor as she sits back down. You try to ignore her but she calls your attention by waving a side of the blanket in front of you asking if you want some. You shake your head no and Wanda pouts. Like she actually pouts and she waves the blanket again looking at you expectantly.

God, you’re too cute. Like I could ever say no to that face.

You nod giving your thanks as she throws the blankets over you as well.

“Good to know,” she says. As you’re about to ask what is good to know, she leans fully into your side, loops her arm around yours, and lays her head on your shoulder turning her attention back to the movie without a word. She either doesn’t realize or she doesn’t care that her actions have broken you. You are stiff as a board but you quickly will yourself to relax. You reason if this is the only chance you get to be with her like this, you may as well enjoy it.

As the movie goes on, you feel more relaxed than you ever felt. You don’t know if it is the warmth of the blanket or of having Wanda pressed so close, but you feel sluggish, almost tired-like but you know you’re not ready to sleep yet. It is almost like your brain is taking a little longer to catch up to what is happening.

When Wanda’s thumb is rubbing your hand, you sigh.

This feels nice. I always wondered what holding your hand would feel like. Now that I know, I don’t ever want to let go. You think or you think you think.

When she squeezes your hand, you’re not so sure you kept that in your head but this time you don’t really care because she sinks further into you. You don’t even know when she decided to hold your hand, but you are not complaining about it.

A few scenes go by, but not without your commentary. Usually your commentary gets a chuckle here and there or is ignored but these comments you make are not so forgettable. Not when you say things like

“You should try giving Nat a dollhouse, Banner” to Bruce making him blush and everyone stare at you incredulously and some laugh

and

“If your laugh was my ringtone, I would have so many missed calls because I’d want to hear it all the way through” to Wanda when she laughs at your previous comment. This has her blushing now. You hadn’t realized you said that until her cheeks turned pink and Peter whipped his head around to look at you with wide eyes. You ignore him and continue not really knowing where this is coming from. “You’re cute when you blush.”

Everyone is looking at you both now. She ducks her head and if she wasn’t blushing before, she is flushing now with all the attention. The movie is long forgotten. You pull her head to hide into your neck as you chuckle, “Hey, there’s no need to be embarrassed. If anything, Captain USA over there should be embarrassed telling everyone his head injury was from a mission.”

Steve’s eyes widen but so do Pietro’s for a different reason as he rushes over to you.

“Tell me everything,” he says like a child on christmas.

“Alright, alright. I hurt myself in training, okay?” Steve interrupts.

“Well, that’s not that interesting,” Pietro huffs.

“He threw his shield and it ricocheted,” you stage whisper.

Pietro’s eyes shine with glee. Everyone turns to look at Steve to see if there is any truth to the story and his face gives him away. Everyone bursts out laughing and you feel Wanda laughing as well in your arms.

“How did you even know that?” Peter asks.

“Tinman has cameras everywhere. I bet he has it recorded somewhere.”

“Man, I have to see it!” Peter exclaims and has most people agree.

“Okay, I promise it’s not that funny, guys,” Steve tries to calm everyone down.

“No, if you want funny, you should watch Guns and Arrows duet. What was it “Love is an Open Door?” you reply directing everyone’s gaze to Nat and Clint. Even Wanda pulls from you to look at them.

“You showed her the video?” Natasha glares at Clint.

“No, it’s on the internet for anyone to watch as they please. Clint makes a great Anna by the way.”

“This is the greatest day of my life,” Pietro says as he pulls out his phone searching for the video. “I don’t know what put you in this mood, but thank you.”

“I’ve got a lot more too,” you say as you get up from the couch, legs feeling a little wobbly, “but that will have to wait til I get back. I drank the soda too fast trying to calm my nerves from sitting so close to your sister.”

“Why would you be nervous? It’s just Wanda,” Pietro says.

You gape at him in disbelief as if he had just insulted you and he might as well have. It is as if everything else just disappears.

“ ‘Just’ Wanda?! You say that like she isn’t the coolest person in the world! Which makes you cool by default because you’re her twin, so you should be thanking her.”

You try to lean in closer to him as if to tell him a secret but your body is more swaying off balance than anything, “Don’t tell anyone but I get nervous around pretty girls. So of course I would be nervous around your sister. Also, don’t tell Peter cause he thinks he’s better than me at talking to girls and I refuse to admit he’s right.”

Pietro is wearing a shit eating grin as you move back. You don’t see everyone’s matching shocked faces as you turn. You turn too quickly and due to your weird state of being you fall face first into Peter. Luckily he catches you with ease.

“That was a close one,” you giggle. “Thanks, Spider Boy.”

“Y/N, are you feeling okay?” Peter asks. Everyone rushes over to you both.

“I’m great,” you respond as helps you up. “Is the room spinning or is it just me?”

“You should sit down, Y/N,” Wanda looks at you with worry.

You frown, “Hey, what’s wrong? Did Pietro eat your sandwich again? It’s okay. I can make you another one righ-”

“PARKER! L/N!”

Everyone’s heads turn to the voice coming from the elevator that could only be Tony’s.

“Do you think he knows about the spider?” you whisper to Peter as your vision goes blurry.

“How could you let the spider out! Do you even have a clue what it does?” Tony’s silhouette makes his way to you.

“So maybe it did bite you,” Peter looks at you guilty and picks you up as your knees give out again.

“Fucking RoboSpider,” is the last thing you say before everything goes dark.

***

When you finally come to, you are in your room in your pyjamas with a pounding headache. You slowly sit up on your bed. Your body is aching as well. Hearing your movement, Peter springs up from where he was sitting against the wall.

He approaches you slowly and hands you a glass of water, “Hey, how are you feeling.”

“Like a damn Stark tech spider bit me after I told my friend not to mess with it,” you manage to glare at Peter after

“Sorry. Are you mad?”

“Unless I got some cool spider powers out of it. Let’s see.”

You touch several objects around you exaggerating your actions so he clearly sees nothing is sticking to you.

“Nope, guess that answers that.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have let it out. That’s my fault and I totally take the blame. I told Mr. Stark that too,” he says as he sits by your side.

You accept his apology. You sit there with him in silence for a few minutes letting everything that happened settle in your mind.

“Oh, god. Everyone is probably mad at me. Why couldn’t I stop talking?” You take a pillow and scream into it.

“It was the spider. Apparently instead of venom it has a sort of truth serum-like substance that works I guess but it works I guess more like alcohol,” Peter explains.

“Remind me to never get drunk around any of you.”

Peter laughs and takes the pillow from you.

“If it’s any consolation, no one is mad at you. They, um, saw the video of you freaking out with the spider and say it’s even now.”

“Nooo,” you whine and Peter just chuckles beside you. His laughter dies down and he looks at you for a moment like something is pressing on his mind.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something else?” you start to panic. “Oh, my god, did I pee my pants?! I remember having to go to the restroom but I don’t remember going. Is that why I’m in my pjs? Did everyone see? Did Wanda see? I’m never coming out of this room.”

“Breathe, Y/N, breathe!” Peter places his hands on your shoulders and breathes with you.

“I was going to say that Wanda is waiting outside to talk to you.”

Your eyes widen, “Somehow that’s worse! How do I begin to apologize? I embarrassed her the most out of everybody.”

“Just talk to her. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he says getting up.

“Peter, don’t leave me yet. Peter!” you whisper yell as he makes his way to the door.

“You’ll be fine. We both know I’m better at talking to girls than you but I still have full confidence,” he replies cheekily as he exits leaving the door open.

“Asshole!” You call after him but to your misfortune Wanda walks in at the same time.

“Well that’s different. Usually I get a flustered greeting from you,” she says amusedly.

“S-sorry. That was for Peter. Not you. Never you. Unless, you like asshole -er being called asshole, but you probably don’t so… Hi, Wanda. What can I do for you?”

“There it is,” Wanda chuckles. You blush in return. She glances at the spot next to you where Peter had been sitting. “May I?”

“Yes,” you squeak. You clear your throat trying to sound less nervous. “Of course.”

You take a deep breath as she sits down closer than Peter had, your shoulders touching. You look at the door while she looks at you. You try to calculate how fast you would have to move to run out the door before she can close it with her powers. You know that even if you had Pietro’s speed, you still could not run fast enough to escape this conversation. It’s been a long time coming. It was time to own up and accept the feelings you tried to ignore. You would not run away this time. You will not deny what you’ve made blatantly obvious to everyone. You are in love with Wanda Maximoff.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Wanda asks.

“As if you don’t know. You’re the telepath here,” you turn your face to hers.

“You know I won’t do it on purpose. I’ll only hear thoughts that-”

“Are loud,” you finish for her. “I know. I also know my mind is practically screaming my thoughts at you.”

“I’d rather hear them come from your mouth,” she replies quietly.

“Before I go and ruin everything-”

“You won’t,” Wanda interjects and moves to hold your hand.

“Before I go and ruin everything,” you begin again, “I want to apologize if I embarrassed you yesterday or made you uncomfortable in any way. That being said, I cannot apologize for what I said because I meant every word and I refuse to take them back even if it makes us being around each other awkward or difficult. I just want to be honest.”

You squeeze her hand and take a deep breath. You look right into her eyes, your heart beating fast. You’re scared but also excited to finally say the words.

“I love you.”

The words are said with such confidence, you’re shocked. Maybe, you’re more shocked they didn’t come from you. It takes a moment for you to shake from your stupor.

“I-I was going to say that.”

“You were taking too long,” she says as she leans in and kisses you. It takes you two seconds to get your act together and kiss her back. You close your eyes and your heart slows to its regular beating as a calm washes over you. All worries of unrequited feelings forgotten. There are no nerves to interrupt your actions. No doubts hold you back from kissing her harder as she moves to sit on your lap without breaking your kiss. When the need to breathe can’t be ignored, you pull back feeling light headed.

She smiles at you and she is the most beautiful thing you have ever come across with her chest heaving, lips bruised, and strands of her hair falling in front of her face. You look at her adoringly as you push her hair back to see her whole face.

“I love you,” you finally say.

“Wasn’t too hard, was it?” she laughs.

You roll your eyes and you kiss her this time.

***

“So, how’d it go?” Peter asks a few hours later.

“Her hair is as soft as it looks.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #my first attempt at writing #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #peter parker

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mickey-henry · 3 years

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky’s been flirting with you, but hasn’t taken it further than that. frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: occasional swearing (but not much) and frustrating flirting (I’d be melting if it was happening to me). besides that, this fic is pure fluffy fun.

author’s note: hello there! this is my second fic; I’m very excited to post it! I found the header image here, and if you want to listen to the song I reference in this fic, you can listen here. bold text indicates singing, while italicized text refers to inner thoughts. likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! I hope you like it! 💖

Bucky Barnes is an acquaintance at best. The two of you rarely work together, and with conflicting schedules, you see little of each other around the compound. On a random Friday in April, however, something changes in you. The moment is nothing out of the ordinary. You’re sitting on the couch in the main living space, re-reading one of your favorite books. Bucky has just returned from a mission; you glance up to see his exhausted expression. He catches your eye, winking with a smile, before walking to his room. Your heart flutters and your head freezes at the response. “Oh, no,” you think to yourself. “Maybe that was a one-time thing? I don’t actually like him, right?” Wrong.

Ever since that night, the mere presence of Bucky Barnes drives you crazy: his stunning blue eyes that squint ever so slightly when he smiles, his adorable nose that crinkles when he laughs, his pillowy lips that you lose yourself in, his fluffy hair you can’t help but imagine running your fingers through, his scruff speckled jawline that you wish would brush along your hands, cheeks, anywhere really. He occupies your dreams; you can’t escape this man even if you try. Today, he drives you crazier than usual. He stands in the compound's kitchen in a tight black t-shirt, one that leaves nothing to the imagination. This is the first time you’ve seen him in short sleeves, in anything other than tactical gear. You can’t help but stare as he prepares his lunch. The shirt hugs his frame tight, accentuating his biceps that had no right to be that big. “Gosh, he must spend hours in the gym to look like that.” You then notice the vein in his right arm protruding from his skin, tracing it with your eyes. You didn’t think he could become any more beautiful, but here he is before you, incredible as ever.

You’re pulled from your reverie when Bucky calls your name. “Yeah?” you reply, barely masking the startled stutter in your voice.

“Pass me the salt?”

“Oh! Sure, of course,” you muster, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of you as you hand him the salt shaker.

“Thanks, doll,” he flirts with a smile, the same one he gave you that night when he got back to the compound. You nearly choke. “Bucky Barnes called me a term of endearment?!? Holy shit.” Your heart swells and you look down at your glass in a desperate attempt to hide the blush creeping its way across your cheeks. “Goodness gracious, I respond this way from a simple word?” You couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if he touched you.

It didn’t take long to find out. The following day, you stand in the kitchen prepping your lunch, singing softly along to the song playing from your phone. Bucky appears soon after. He stands close to you for a moment, closer than necessary, but of course you don’t mind. He has just showered; his cologne lingers in the air, intoxicating you. Somehow, you keep singing along, showing no sign that your mind is elsewhere.

“Ugh, he smells amazing. This man has too much power over me; this is ridiculous! I don’t even remember what I was doing—”

“You have a beautiful voice,” he compliments.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you softly reply, your heart racing at his praise.

“Let me get by you real fast, doll,” he says, moving to walk behind you.

“There he goes again with the pet name. My god, could this get any worse—”

He places his hands gently on your hips as he moves beside you. Electricity travels through your whole body; you’re internally screaming at his touch. His hands feel better than you imagined. Even though the contact lasts only a moment, the effects of his touch linger after, leaving you speechless.

You hear a musical chuckle from the man behind you. “Is he teasing me? It sure feels like it,” you wonder. There is no way that he can’t see the effect he has on you. Before you can even formulate another thought, he touches you again as he moves back to the other side of you. “That was definitely on purpose; certainly he wouldn’t do this by accident. Right?”

Your eyes linger as he finishes putting together his lunch. He catches your gaze and smiles. “See you later, sweetheart,” he says with a wink before leaving the room. “Okay, that answers my question; that was very intentional. What am I going to do with myself?”

You don’t know how much longer you can take his teasing. Throughout the week, he ups his antics, calling you pet names more than your own, stealing touches whenever he can get away with it, smiling whenever you make eye contact. The tension is insatiable; thoughts of Bucky follow you everywhere. You decide to take matters in your own hands; Bucky did not seem to be planning to make a move anytime soon. If he is going to tease the hell out of you, you might as well get some payback.

───────────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Tony’s announcement of Friday night karaoke gives you a wicked idea. However, for it to work, you need to recruit help. You know just who to ask. It doesn’t take long to find Sam and Steve; they spent a ton of their free time sparring in the gym. They seem to be at the end of their workout, their movements slow and sloppy, relying on witty retorts to throw off the other. They stop when they notice your arrival.

“Hey!” Sam says with a smile, hugging you as you approach. You squeeze him tightly, even with his sticky sweat coating his arms. You greet Steve with a hug too.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Steve asks as you let go.

“Can I ask you guys something? And you promise you two won’t laugh at me? Especially if I'm reading this wrong?”

“Of course,” answers Steve.

“Yeah, for sure,” replies Sam.

You hesitate for a second, taking a deep breath. “Does Bucky like me? I swear he does. He keeps teasing me, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I think I am practically in love with the guy at this point, he’s so beautiful and—”

You stop as the boys exchange glances and begin laughing.

You cross your arms, hurt. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me! I can’t control how I feel.”

“No! Wait! We aren’t laughing at you!” Steve says between giggles.

You furrow your brows. “Then why are you laughing?”

“Bucky’s obsessed with you,” Steve answers after calming his laughter.

“God, yes, you’re all he talks about nowadays,” Sam adds.

“What?! He does? Why? Are you shitting me right now? Because that would be really freaking mean—“

“No! Of course not,” Steve insists. “Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”

“And the pet names he gives you?” Sam adds.

“And how he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself lately?” Steve finishes.

Now you feel stupid for even asking. Of course you noticed all of those things. They were all you ever thought about. “Well, yeah, but maybe he does that with all the girls.”

“What girls?” Sam retorted. “The only women who are here often enough to cross paths with him are you, Natasha, and Wanda. Wanda’s with Vision, as weird as that is, but love is love. Natasha shoots daggers at anyone who looks at her with love in their eyes. That leaves you.”

“Why in the world would he like me? Of all people? He’s out of my league,” you sigh,

Sam’s scoff pulls you from your thoughts. “Bucky? Out of your league? He’s a crazy ex-assassin with emotional issues! If anything, he's out of your league.”

“You’re a catch, why wouldn’t he like you?” Steve assures.

Steve and Sam always know just what to say to make you feel better. “I guess you’re right,” you admit with a defeated grin.

“So, you know how Bucky feels. What are you going to do about it?” Steve asks.

“I have an idea, but I need your help.”

“We’re listening.”

You divulge your plan to them. They smile, hyping you up.

“Dude, I’m so down!” Sam exclaims, clapping his hands in excitement.

“You think this will work?”

“Definitely,” Steve assures. “This is going to be amazing!”

“Okay then, we’re doing this. Let’s go find Bucky. Time to initiate phase one.”

───────────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky is sitting on the common room couch, flipping through a book when he sees you, Sam, and Steve enter. He exchanges a glance with you, smiling as your eyes light up. The three of you sit down. You’re sitting next to Sam, closer than usual. There’s a brief moment of silence before you speak. “Sam, are you going to karaoke night?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss everyone’s drunk-ass singing for the world.”

“Will you be my duet partner?”

This catches Bucky’s attention. He looks up from his book. Why the hell were you asking Sam to sing with you? You normally ask the girls...

“Sure thing, baby. It’ll be a ton of fun!” Sam smiles.

Baby?! What?! How dare he call you a pet name, his girl, right in front of him? Well, you may not be his girl yet, but Sam knows how he feels about you. What the hell is he thinking?

“Yay! This’ll be so fun!” You hug him, grabbing his hand before continuing, “Wanna practice with me in a bit?”

“Find me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” Sam answers, kissing your knuckle before letting go of your hand.

Sweetheart?! What the fuck was going on? Did he miss his shot? Would Sam really do that to him? Bucky can barely handle his swirling thoughts. He storms out of the room without looking back.

Steve can’t help but laugh once Bucky is out of earshot. “That worked a little too well, wouldn’t you say so?”

“That wasn’t too far, was it?” you ask with a worried expression on your face.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. He’ll just come on even stronger now. He won’t give up on you that easily,” Sam assures you.

───────────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky can barely contain his anger as you step on the stage with Sam, giggling and smiling at your karaoke partner. Jealousy engulfs him. He can barely listen to the start of the song, ignoring the catchy beat blasting through the speakers. He doesn’t recognize the song, but looks up from his drink when you sing, “Hey Bucky boy, what you doing tonight? I wanna see what you got in store."

He looks right at you. Did she just say Bucky?

Sam echoes, “Hey, hey Bucky!” Well, that answers his question.

“You're giving it your all when you're dancing on me. I want to see if you can give me some more,” you continue, twirling your fingers through your hair.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“You can be my man, I can be your girl, and we can pump this jam however you want,” you sing, swaying your hips to the cadence of the lyrics.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“Pump it from the side, pump it upside down, or we can pump it from the back and the front,” you wink as you finish the line. Bucky sits up suddenly, crossing his legs, his face turning beet red. You smile, knowing the plan was working. Steve laughs from beside him. He keeps his eyes glued on you as the two of you continue the song, utterly entranced. You look him right in the eye as you end the song, “I want you tonight.”

You saunter over to where he is sitting after high-fiving Sam, confidence filling your chest. “So, what did you think of my performance, Bucky?”

You yelp as he grabs your hips and pulls you down to sit on his lap. His voice deepens, “you’re such a tease, you know that right?”

You laugh. “I’m the tease? Really? You’re the one who just pulled me onto your lap and taunts me with flirtatious remarks and smiles all freaking day. My god Bucky, make a move already—”

He cuts you off, pulling you in for a kiss, his flesh arm grabbing the back of your neck. The team whoops and cheers.

“Glad you finally made a move, Bucky,” you pant as your lips part from his.

“Best decision I ever made in my life, doll.” Before you can respond, he kisses you again, the karaoke bar fading in the background as you finally embrace the man of your dreams.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mickey-henry #bucky barnes fic #my fic: hey bucky #mel's writing

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hobbitsnapes · 3 years

Text

E-girls are ruining vinnies life

Vinnie Hacker x Reader

Warnings: smut, +18, NSFW, kinky sex

A/N: this is my first vinnie writing, and my second smut. Please go easy on me (unlike vinnie...)

Never in his life did he think this would happen. In the short time he’s been on social media, he’s kept his relationship life private. Fearing the criticism the pore girl would inevitably get. He had seen it countless times to his friends, as soon as they’d announce they had found someone, instant hateful words would flood not only their comments, but their partners. He swore he wouldn’t ever outright publicly show his girlfriend, or announce that he was finally taken. That was, until he met her.

Surprisingly, very little hate or criticism came for them when he announced it that fateful day.

He had posted just a short video, a few seconds of him laying down, with her head resting in his neck. Her face being hidden by her hair. He had posted it to his second account, testing the waters there rather than his main account.

After a few days, and many people speculating, asking who she was, some trying to figure it out, even some claiming it was someone, when it never was. Even some claiming they weren’t dating, just friends. He never responded to any of the questions or comments.

Days had passed, with relatively good reactions to it, they both decided to take it to the next step, by officially posting it to his main account, outing them completely to the world.

He had decided to use the yellow trend to do it, thinking it would be a perfect trend for the purpose.

The first few pictures were of his friends, some from shoots they did, to some when they went skating, to just candid pictures. But after about 3 pictures with his friends, came a photo of her. She was sitting in the grass, a lone dandelion in her hand as she smiled shyly for the photo. Next was a photo of them standing in front of the mirror, she was in front, with his arm securely around her. Next was them standing in the same mirror, only he was dipping her slightly as he bent down to kiss her. A few more pictures of them flashed in the video, ending with a small video he took the night prior. They layer in bed, faces being only lit by the brightness of the phone as he laid on top of her. Their lips only centimeters apart, as he whispered I love you. Both smiling as he leans in, connecting their lips as the video ends.

Love was flooding his comments, so many saying how beautiful she was, saying how happy he looked, and how happy they were for him.

The other side, was people asking who she was, nobody being able to figure it out.

That was due to the fact that, they wouldn’t be able to find out. Because in the world of social media, she didn’t exist.

Early on she told him she wasn’t a social media person. She never had an Instagram, a Facebook, Twitter, nothing but a YouTube account that she’d never post on. Only there to watch videos and play music.

They met by pure luck, at the skatepark. She was sitting by herself, reading a book that engrossed her. She didn’t notice his eyes trainer on her the entire time, fully captivated by the pages.

He finally built up the courage, and being pushed by his friends, to go sit with her.

He was a nervous wreck, barley being able to compose himself enough to say hello and his name.

She thought it was cute, how he stumbled over his words when he talked to her. It was endearing, seeing just how flustered the very attractive man was.

To this day he wonders how he didn’t screw up. But he hadn’t, getting her number an hour after talking. Promising to take her out that weekend. And the rest, was history for them.

Over the next few weeks, he would randomly post a video of them together, usually on his second account. They both would sit and laugh at some of the comments, finding it Hilarious how crazy people were getting at trying to figure out who she was. Some came to the conclusion that she didn’t have any, with most begging her to make one.

It had been a relatively uneventful day, some might even call it boring.

Vinnie had been out most of the day, informing her of the plans he had with some of his friends. Promising her to be home that night, sealing his promise with a chaste kiss to her lips as he ran out the door, her heart thumping in her chest as he walked away.

She laid on their shared bed, her legs bare as they rubbed against the soft blanket.

Only odorning a black tee shirt that covered her panties, barely shielding her from the cold outside. Thanking the heavens for the hearing system as she laid there, contemplating.

Agoraphobic played in the speakers as she laid there, drowning out any and all noise. She had grown a strong liking to the artist corpse, finding herself playing his music or humming the lyrics through the day. Vinnie would sometimes make fun of her, saying that she loved him more than her own boyfriend. She would scoff, kissing his plump lips, reminding him the love she had for the curly headed boy.

The song finally ending, changing to the next in her playlist. A smile disarming at her lips when she heard it. While agoraphobic was her favorite, there was just something special when she’s hear e girls are ruining my life. Vinnie would joke that this song was meant for her, how it reminded him of her each time he heard the lyrics.

She held her phone to her chest, looking up at the bright led lights above her. ‘Fuck it’ she thought, pulling her phone from her chest, going to the App Store, and downloading the one app she swore she’d never use.

One video she thought, just one. She looked at his videos first, reading a few of the contents, her heart thumping in her chest. An outcry of people asking him to have her make an account, some even begging him.

It wasn’t that she hated social media, it was just it had never crossed her mind as something she wanted to get into. She knew how popular vinnie and his friends were, having seen them when he would show her. She had especially been worried about making one when she first started dating him, fearing someone would find out and out them before they were ready.

She was even more fearful in a way when they announced it, fearing the ridicule she would face if she made one. But the amount of love people were showering both them and her in each of the videos, made her heart soar in her chest. Finally making her decision, she got to work.

His phone was vibrating in his pocket, confusion filling him. It wasn’t a phone call, no, it was notifications going off.

He pulled his phone out, seeing a plethora of tags from his friends flash over the screen. His brows knitted together in confusion, not understanding what was going on. Why was he being tagged and sent this one tiktok?

He got his answer when he opened a link sent by Jordan. He red the text from him, even more confused when he did. ‘You have to see this.’ The text red, seeing a link sent right after.

Shock filled him when he watched it, questions filling his mind as he sat there, eyes glued to the screen.

It was a video posted by his girlfriend, from her own account. It was simple really, well, that’s a bad word for it.

She sat on the floor, leaning against their shared bed. A mirror proper in front of her, showing her and their empty bed.

He had the mirror installed in front of the bed a month prior, contemplating on having it placed above the bed.

It was a surprise for her, having it done the day of their 5 month anniversary. Worry filled him that she wouldn’t like it or find it weird, but he was proven wrong that same night. It was one of the greatest nights they had, finding every way to fuck in front of it, their pleasure heightened with being able to watch as they both came undone.

Since then, they used it every time. Being able to sit in front of it, with her facing it as he makes her watch as he slams into her, loving being able to pull her hair back as moans slip from her lips as he makes eye contact through the mirror.

She sat on the floor, only wearing one of his black shirts, barely covering her clothes core. She was sitting there, a chuckle making its way out of him when he heard the song. He knew if she ever made an acount or video, she would use one of corpses songs. She loves his music, barely being able to deny the fact due to how much she’d listen to him. E girls he knew was one of her favorites, finding her humping the lyrics on the daily when she’s being going the most mundane things.

His eyes bulged out of his head when he looked behind her, his heart thumping in his chest even worse. His cock throbbing in his pants when he saw it.

There in the background, was a pair of handcuffs secured on their headboard.

Having used them only the night before, his cock grew almost painful Ashe thought of the memories.

The sounds of her moans ripping out from her as she tried pulling free her hands as he rocked harshly into her played in his mind. Making it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything beside her and the memories. And the thought of what was to come when he got home.

His heart pounded in his chest when he looked at the comments, one sticking out. People had caught on to the handcuffs, not many, but the numbers were rising. But one comment, had one reply. ‘ARE THOSE HANDCUFFS I SEE 👀’ it red, being highlighted by being liked by the creator, with a reply by creator. ‘Like my bracelets? 😊��

His footsteps echoed throughout the large home, barley being able to hear them due to his heart pounding in his ears. He could feel the blood coursing through him as he bears his door, hearing nothing from the other side.

He opens up the door, instantly his eyes trained on her like a hawk. There she laid on their bed, again, only clad in his shirt.

Her eyes met his, a smile forming on her face. “Hey lovey.” She chirped, getting up from their bed, a pep in her step as she neared him.

She got up on her toes to reach him, him bending his head down, connecting their lips in a sweet kiss. She could feel the need in his lips as he wrapped his arms around her torso, feeling him tighten his grip ever so slightly.

He opens his mouth slightly, darting his tongue out, licking her lip lightly. Her granting him access as they stood there in each other’s arms. She pulled away with a chuckle. “What’s gotten into you?” She asked, a teasing smile on her face. “Take a wild guess.” He grunted, crashing his lips to hers again. She pulled away again, chuckling at his grunt of frustration when she did. “I don’t know? Tell me?” She teased, making his grip on her tighten even harder. “Maybe, it has something to do with that little video you posted. Maybe it might also have to do with the fact that you hadn’t hid those handcuffs. Now everyone will know.” He grunted, tightening his arms even harder around her.

She could feel his cock pressing hard against her stomach, excitement growing inside her.

He leaned in to crash his lips with hers again, but she out her hand in the way before he could. He looked at her questionly, making her chuckle. “Before we do anything. I need your help with another video.”

It took every ounce of sheer willpower for him not to bend her over and fuck her right there when they recorded it. His cock throbbing even worse the longer it took. But in the end, even he had to admit, it was worth it.

Same song as her last one, only this time, the video was entirely different.

She had the camera facing her side profile, her facing him and not the camera. Him discreetly out of the frame.

As the lyrics started, he reached his hand up, grabbing her by the throat as she lip synced the lyrics, his hand having a firm hold on her delicate neck. As the song continued, he moved his hand up, pulling her bottom lip out, sticking his thumb between her reddened plum lips.

She gave a simple caption, one they knew would make everyone who watched it go insane. ‘The other version.’

A groan rips from the back of his throat, her hands tangling in his curls harshly. Their tongues battled as they pant, neither one wanting to pull away from one another.

His hands held tightly to her thighs, gripping the soft flesh as a moan rips out of her. His rings axing to the sensation as she pulls his hair even harder.

He pulls his lips from hers, letting out a chuckle when she chased his lips momentarily. He duped his head down into her neck, running his lips along the skin, until he felt her legs wrap around him as a moan slips past her lips. He starts sucking harshly on her skin, feeling her trembling under him.

He widens her legs, looking down between them, letting out a grunt. He can see the wetness through her panties, nearly smelling her desire. He pulled them down her legs, watching in amazement when she opened up her legs to him. He had seen her naked plenty of times, but it still caught his breath every time he saw her core.

He went back to her neck, sucking on the bruised skin. He ran his hand down her thigh, feeling her tremble as small whines slipped past her lips.

He pulled his head from her neck, hovering his lips just enough over hers. A smile broke out on his face as his fingers finally met her core, a large moan breaking through her.

His fingers rut harshly through her velvety walls, making her yell out. His cock throbbed in his pants as her core sucked his fingers inside of her, making him want to replace his hand with his painfully hard cock.

She can hardly breathe as his fingers hardly pound inside of her, waves of pure bliss engulfing her at the feel. His rings adding a level of chill, making her shake as he speeds up.

He dips his head back into her neck as he bites her skin, rutting his hips into the mattress to relieve some of the pain.

As if it couldn’t get better, she feels him thrust his fingers even faster, making her jump when he hits that one spot. It’s been his mission, every time they had sex, he had to hit it each time. Whether it was with his cock or hands, he had to.

He feels her walls tightening as her moans grow louder, feeling her walls quiver slightly. He speeds his hands up, adding his thumb to rub her clit harshly, making her cry out. “Yeah that’s right, such a good girl.” He whispers, making her cry out. “God I love how your walls just squeeze my fingers, wishing it was my cock. Wouldn’t you love that? To feel my cock pound inside of you? To have it suck me dry as I make it mine forever?” “Yes! Please!” She yells out, making him chuckle. “Then cum for me sweet girl.”

A large groan breaks out of him when she lets out a yell, thrashing around as he feels her release, feeling her core tightened and suck his fingers inside of her even more. A cry breaking past her lips as it all grows too much.

She pulls his pants from him, eagerly trying to rip them from his body.

They both lay naked, chests flushed together. He feels his heart hammer against his chest, feeling hers beat in the same rhythm.

A groan slips past his lips as her hands glide along his shaft, making his arms shake as pleasure courses through him.

He grabs his cock in his hands, lining himself up to her entrance. A hiss breaking past him as his painfully hard head slips between her lips, the wetness of her core nearly making him explode.

He lays his forehead on hers, both taking in a deep breath as he eases himself inside her. They both shudder in a breath as he enters her, both shaking as his cock slides inside her. “Fuck I love your pussy baby.” He groans out, kissing her sloppily. He momentarily doesn’t move, stealing his breath.

He did this every time, always giving her a couple of seconds to get used to the feeling of his cock stretching her. Always easing into it slowly, rocking his hips at a slow place, gradually increasing his speed of his thrusts.

He wasn’t much of a speed guy, he always would go slowly but hard, not growing in speed till they both neared the edge.

He pulled out slowly, slamming himself back in hardly, moving her and the bed back as a cry rips out of her. He feels her walls close tightly around him as he thrusts inside of her, making him groan out. She pulls his hair harshly, pulling his head back as he hisses out. Making him slam into her harder.

They both can’t help but yell out as time passes, making it nearly impossible to stay quiet. His cock slamming into her harder, a cry ripping out of him when her nails take down his back. Making him arch into her. His hand slips from her thighs to her neck, pushing on the sides as she struggles for air.

Their lips collide in a sloppy kiss as his thrusts speed up, his hair sweaty and dangling in her face.

Knots grow in their stomachs as they feel their release approach, making him speed his trusts more. “I-I wanna cum. Please vin, fuck please.” She moans out, making him grip her hip even harder. He bends his head back into her neck, biting the skin harshly as his thrusts grow sloppy. “Hold it.” He grunts into her ear, making her cry out as she tries to ward off the impending orgasm.

He feels her wetness seeping down his thighs as he slammed even harder, making her cry out as she shakes, trying her hardest not to cum. “Fuck vinnie I can’t, fuck please I can’t.” She sobs out, tears streaming down her face as she shakes, using every last strength inside her to hold it. She feels it breaking as it approaches, nearly breaking as tears stream from her eyes. He gowns out in her neck, feeling her walls tighten and shake as he tries holding on. “Cum for me.” He groans out, a groan breaking through him as she screams out. Wave of pure Ecstasy take over her body as she squeezes him inside her, making her cry out as she violently thrashes.

He can’t hold it any longer, feeling himself break as he yells out a deep groan as he cumsinside her, making both shake as her walls suck out every drop he lets out, making him shake as waves of white hot pleasure rake over one another.

They both lay there, his arms giving out as they shake. Their arms grabbing onto one another as they try calming the aftershocks of their orgasms. He uses all his strength to lean up, connecting their lips as they pant.

Feeling themselves sink into the soft mattress, they both lay on their sides, his clock still buried inside her, making both their eyes grow heavy. Before they fall into a deep slumber, they connect their lips.

#vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie #tiktok #imagines #smut

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years

Note

Oooooh hotel rooms. Continuation of the continuation of "more coffee?" Please?

1, 2

The Hotel Brexton feels a little like a death trap to Lenny, but it has its charms, he supposes. He stops by the little bar downstairs for a quick drink after his show, trying to pull himself together a little more.

Baltimore is tough because it's easy to find drugs in Baltimore. Honestly, if you know where to look, it's easy to find drugs anywhere, but in Baltimore they're particularly ubiquitous.

But he hadn't. He reminded himself that if he scored and then used, he wouldn't see Midge tonight, and not only would that be a shame, she might never fucking forgive him, so he manages some self control. Once in his own room, he sighs and looks a himself in the mirror.

He looks tired. His clothes are a little wrinkled from a night in a smoky club. His hair isn't as neat as it was when he'd gotten ready earlier in the evening. Midge is going to notice all these things, and what he hoped would be an amorous evening would likely turn into one of her fussing over his wellbeing, and that's just...

Actually, it doesn't sound so bad, all things considered, to have someone to look after him for an hour or two. And then maybe one day when she's tired and run down, he can do the same for her. Gently shove her into taking a shower, help sooth her into some actual restful sleep.

All that is ridiculous of course. He hadn't realized he'd taken a detour into fucking fantasy land.

The knock on his door a few moments later pulls him back to reality and he sighs, going to open it up.

Midge grins at him, looking almost as tired as he feels. She's not in her Mrs. Maisel get-up any longer. She's obviously showered and redone her hair; put on a less aggressive layer of makeup. Wearing a dress that's a little more casual, but no less fetching.

Still beautiful, as always.

"Hello," he breathes out, letting her in.

"Hi," she grins as she steps past him, looking around. "Nice room. Mine's smaller."

"I am very famous and important," he tells her without much mirth.

Midge turns to him and grins. "Set went well?"

"It did," Lenny confirms. "I was just primping when you arrived."

"Ooh, for me?" Midge jokes. "Don't I feel special."

He laughs a little and leans against the wall. "And how did your set go?"

"It also went well," Midge confirms. "Two more stops on this tour and then I get to go home."

"Hey, nice. Where to next?"

"DC, and then Philly," Midge tells him. "And then it's back home."

"DC crowds are fun," Lenny tells her.

"I remember," she grins. "What about you?"

Lenny shrugs. "Let's so...uh...I've got Philly next, then Jersey City, and then I am also back up in New York."

"Nice."

"I'm really glad you're working again," he tells her. "I didn't like having to lecture you on that stage. I'm not particularly good at it, and I don't find it particularly enjoyable..."

"But you were right," Midge shrugs. "I'm glad I'm working again, too. And the tour is a nice break from the mess that is my personal life."

Lenny lifts an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"My ex's girlfriend is pregnant with his baby," Midge explains as she absently sits on the edge of his bed. "And he tried to cheat on her. With me. And I turned him down, and now things are very, very awkward between us."

"Because you didn't want to fuck the ex who cheated on you and then was...trying to cheat on his pregnant girlfriend."

"Yes."

"That sounds terrible," Lenny admits, sitting next to her.

Midge sighs softly. "He's better behaved in that regard when I have a boyfriend. He just yells at me instead of coming onto me."

"Real winner, that ex of yours," Lenny teases gently. "Not that I have much room to talk. I am no prize."

"You are both better in bed, and nicer to me than he ever was," she tells him. "So you edge him out by a few inches. Metaphorically and also physically in multiple ways."

Lenny laughs, a real laugh and shakes his head. "Good to know."

Midge smiles at him, bumping her shoulder with his. "I missed you, you know."

He takes a breath and nods, letting himself take her hand, gently squeezing it. "I missed you, too."

"So?" she asks. "State run treatment center."

Lenny blows out a breath and rubs his eyes. "You know when your kid is trying to help you with a very grown-up problem, and they think they're being helpful, but really, they're making things worse and adding new problems on top of it?"

"Yes I do," Midge says softly, gazing at him.

"That's what these state-run places are like. Yes, we'll help you. Have some different drugs that cause different problems, and a little zap to the brain, and you'll be addiction-free in no time. Except the new drugs just scare the bejesus out of you and the electroshock therapy helps calm you down, but hurts like a motherfucker and does fuck-all for addiction." He blows out a breath. "And I don't know why I'm telling you this right now, because I was hoping- fuck. I don't know. I don't know what I was hoping for. I just- you should go."

"Your still holding my hand," she points out. "So even if I wanted to leave - and I don't - you've kind of got a hold on me, Lenny."

He looks down at their hands before looking back into her face, and then kisses her. Slowly and carefully, squeezing her hand as he does. He's too tired to be as frantic about this as he otherwise would be.

He's just so fucking tired.

Midge ends the kiss slowly, her free hand on his chest. "How about a shower? And how about some sleep?"

Lenny takes a breath and nods. "Yeah. Yeah. You uhm..."

"I'll be here," she grins at him and pecks his cheek before flopping back on the bed. "I'm too tired to deal with those winding stairs back down to my room anyways. Who built this place and why are they trying to kill their guests?"

"I believe," Lenny tells her as he gets to his feet, finally letting go of her hand and loosening his tie. "It was built in 1881."

"Well, clearly whoever designed this place in 1881 did not take women's footwear of the twentieth century into account," Midge grumbles, sitting up on her elbows to watch him.

"It was 1881," he reminds her as he sheds his shirt. "No one cared about women's anything."

He gets no volley back, and he frowns, turning to look at her. "Midge?"

"Hm?" she blinks and shakes out her head. "What?"

"I do believe I'm being ogled," Lenny chuckles.

"No," Midge blurts out, flopping back on the bed. "Maybe. It's your own fault with that torso."

"Yes, how dare I."

"Go shower."

He grins a little and heads for the bathroom, turning the water as hot as it will go before shedding the rest of his clothes and hopping in. It feels good, and he feels his muscles loosen a little. Washes the grease from his hair and grim of he club from his skin. Steps out after and wraps a towel around his waist before stepping back out, finding Midge curled up on the bed, already asleep.

Lenny sighs softly and changes into a pair of undershorts before walking over and gently tugging her shoes off. He manages to maneuver her to get the covers down, and slides in next to her, wrapping his arms around her.

Midge nuzzles in against his chest and sighs softly. "Night, Lenny..."

He presses a kiss to her temple and closes his eyes. "Night, Midge."

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny

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fanficimagery · 3 years

Text

When Enough is Enough pt. II

Imagine being let down one too many times by your best friend, only to end up making some new ones in the process.

Words: 8.5K Author’s Note: Okay so some of you asked to only be added to part 2 of this while others asked to be added everything Bucky.. and a few others weren’t exactly clear. So if you want to be tagged in any future Bucky related imagines please let me know so I can get your blog name written down on my list.

Tags: @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination @mimilh @felicityofbakerstreet @eternalharry @eliwinchester99 @intothesoul @wintershadowkat @b1sexualtonystark @meredeph @miszswan

The Sunday before you are to return to work, you sleep in until nine in the morning. Your thoughts are immediately on Bucky's impending arrival and you couldn't help the butterflies that took flight in your stomach. He's a friend, just as all the others are, but you couldn't help but notice just how attractive this new friend of yours is. But not only does his attractiveness draw you in, his easy-going teasing and protectiveness does too. However, Bucky Barnes is still a man trying to find his footing in this world after all that's been done to him and finally getting his name cleared, and if he finds comfort with you then you're going to try your best and be the friend he needs.

So since you're not dressing to impress, you dress in your favorite lazy outfit after your shower- leggings, sports bra, a faded sleeveless band tee with the arm holes having been cut down to around your ribs, and a pair of socks. Damp hair gets gathered up into a messy bun and you walk around your apartment to pick up some things you had unknowingly left out.

You've skipped breakfast, so when there's a knock on your door and you open up to find Bucky standing there, you groan in relief. He raises both hands with paper bags hanging from each. "I come bearing sushi. Wanda let it slip how much you love it."

"Yesss." You step back, quickly taking in his own comfort outfit of sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt under an opened jacket. "Did you bring plenty of wasabi? And you can just kick off your shoes anywhere."

"Of course." He hands you the bags so he can kick off his shoes and strip out of his jacket before hanging it up. You don't know why, but seeing him in a short sleeve shirt makes you happy, knowing full well he was weird about his metal arm being out in the open. "And plenty of dipping sauce as well. Wanda was more than happy to give me advice."

"Wanda, huh?" You chuckle, leading the way to your kitchen. "You actually told her where'd you be?"

"Apparently I looked very pensive this morning. She asked and I figured she was a better confidant than Steve or Sam who would have made a big deal about us hanging out."

"True." Setting the bags down, you let him empty them while you head to the fridge. "Beer?"

"Yeah."

Grabbing him a beer and yourself a can of Cola, you return to the table and your eyes widen at the sight of all the sushi. "Damn, Barnes. That's a lot of sushi."

"Don't act like you won't eat half of it."

You laugh as you take a seat, handing him his beer and pulling a few trays to your side of the table. You take a container of wasabi and dipping sauce for yourself, and grab a pair of chopsticks to start digging in.

You moan in delight at your first taste, happily shimmying in your seat before taking another. Eventually, you ask, "So what are you going to do when I'm back at work and I can't keep you entertained by getting shitfaced?"

Bucky grins around his mouthful of food before chasing it down with a swig of his beer. "We actually got a mission comin' up so I'll be leavin' around mid-week."

"Well that sucks." You sigh. "Now who am I going to send random pictures to when I have downtime at work?"

He grins. "You can still send them to me. I just won't get back to you until after the mission's complete."

"Yeah, yeah."

The two of you continue to eat- Bucky dodging Steve's texts about where he is and when he's coming back, and you sending the middle finger emoji over and over to Wanda who keeps wondering how your date is going. Then once most of the sushi is gone and Bucky puts what little is left into the fridge, the two of you head to the living room. You immediately flop onto the couch as Bucky takes the plush recliner, only for you to hear him moving the chair into its reclined position seconds later.

"Oh. I definitely need to get one of these."

You laugh as he snuggles down and you pick up the remote to bring up your streaming services. "Anything you've been meaning to watch?"

"Not really. Just show me your favorites."

You start off with some humor by playing the Goonies. It's a movie that no matter how many times you've seen it, it always seems to make you laugh. And it seems Bucky is not immune either when they make Chunk to the truffle shuffle. Titanic plays afterwards, but only after making sure Bucky found it somewhat interesting after reading the movie summary to him. He is interested from beginning to end and doesn't even laugh at you when you shed a few tears for the old married couple who opt to stay in their bed as the room floods.

When a break is needed, you head off towards the bathroom as Bucky finishes off the leftover sushi. Both of you check your phones and read each other the missed text messages from Steve and his worrying behavior.

"Wanna tell Steve to fuck off via video message?" Bucky takes a moment to think on it before he grins and nods. "Excellent. Sit in the recliner. I'm gonna crawl up all in your business. That okay?"

"Yeah."

As Bucky gets comfortable in the recliner, you sit on the armrest before sliding down sideways onto his lap. You bring up the camera app on your phone and switch it to video, sliding your right arm behind Bucky's neck while holding your left arm out to capture the two of you on the screen. "Ready?"

"Sure, doll."

You chuckle quietly and then smirk mischievously as Bucky relaxes his expression into his best resting bitch face. After you hit record, you say, "Hey Rogers, stop being a little bitch and sending us text after text. I'm tryin' to fuck your best friend here." Bucky's expression cracks as he barks out a laugh and you turn to face him while grinning. You share a laugh with him before facing the camera once more. "Only joking, but seriously stop buggin' us. I promise to send him back in one piece."

As you prepare to send the text to Steve, Bucky says, "You're terrible."

"Whatever. Admit it, you adore me."

"Occasionally."

You huff another laugh as the video message finally sends. You and Bucky both watch as the delivered status turns to read, and then those three little dots appear as Steve starts typing his reply.

"Tell Bucky to wrap it before he taps it." You burst out laughing at Steve's text, Bucky's rumbling laughter only fueling yours even more. "God I hate your best friend sometimes." And before you climb off Bucky's lap, because honestly you were getting a little too comfortable, you send Steve a few middle finger emojis before deciding on a third movie to watch.

The third movie you choose is one that never fails to make you laugh- Bridesmaids. You had a moment of hesitancy because of the sex scenes, but you figured they were ridiculous enough that it wouldn't be awkward. Thankfully you're correct and you get the added bonus of hearing Bucky's laughter again during Megan's scenes, especially when they get food poisoning and are all fighting for the bathroom.

You and Bucky take yet another break after the film, just stretching and finding something to drink.

"So what's the verdict, Barnes? Are you enjoying the films?"

He grins. "Your taste is all over the place, huh? That last one we watched was raunchy."

"But hilarious! You need to watch the Hangover trilogy, but you definitely need to watch that with Steve and then watch him squirm at the pictures that roll with the credits."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Jurassic Park holds his attention and he can't help but comment how stupid one has to be to replicate dinosaur DNA and then open up a park with live dinosaurs. You laugh, but don't bother commenting. You'll tell him later there are more movies involved, with yet another idiotic man who felt he could get the park up and running once more.

It's getting dark, but it's still a little too early for dinner. One more movie and then you'll order or go out and pick something up.

"So this last one for the day is a movie that's directed more towards the female viewers, but you did ask for my favorite films and Practical Magic is my absolute favorite."

"Well put it on, doll."

As you press play on Practical Magic, you quickly grab a throw blanket and snuggle in. Instead of watching Bucky, you watch the film and mumble certain quotes to yourself. The magic scenes always bring a soft smile to your face just as Gary's confession to Sally of I wished for you too breaks your heart, and Sally and Gillian's heartfelt sister moment makes you cry.

Afterwards, Bucky hums in thought. "So that's your favorite?"

"Absolutely." You tell him. He's watching you curiously and you grin. "If I show you something, you promise not to laugh?"

"I'll try."

"Whatever. That's good enough for me." Standing up, you walk towards him and kneel, and tell him to pull your shirt sideways by the armhole next to your left arm. There on the back of your left shoulder and forever etched into your skin is a salt shaker, a rosemary plant, a lavender plant, and a heart. You then rattle off one of your favorite quotes to him. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

Bucky chuckles as you get up, retaking your spot on the sofa. "You really are a fan of the movie."

You nod. "As a little girl, I was fascinated by magic. I thought I'd grow out of it, but I only grew more fond of it. And then I found Practical Magic and it had a bit of everything I adored."

"So what's the one scene that just gets you every time?"

"Ugh. You're making me choose?!" You feign being distraught and he grins. As you think about it, you keep coming back to two scenes in particular. "So there's two," you tell him, "and I'm not choosing between them." Bucky nods, awaiting your answer. "Gillian's possession. When Sally calls together the other mothers who were mean to her in order to make a temporary coven to save her sister, and Gillian begs Sally to just let her ghost ex have her."

Bucky hums. "That was a bit sad, doll. I saw you shedding a few tears over that."

"Mhm. And the other scene is when Sally comes clean to Gary and admits that she did a spell as a child to call forth her perfect love thinking it wouldn't exist, only it did. When Gary tells Sally that he wished for her too, it just breaks my fuckin' heart."

"Let me guess, you were one of the girls who cast her own spell after seeing that scene." You stay quiet for a moment and the second you feel your face heat, Bucky laughs. "What did you wish for?"

You groan quietly. "If I tell you, you can't laugh!" He only smiles in response and you know he won't drop it until you tell him. "Fine. So even though I knew it would never work, I gathered the weirdest objects and wished for a significant other with dark hair and colored eyes. He had to be protective and funny and love me for me. Simple."

For some reason you can't seem to meet Bucky's gaze then and you feel awkward the longer the silence stretches on.

"So dinner?" He asks.

"Oh god, yes please. Pizza and wings?"

"Sounds good."

You have the nearby pizza place on speed dial, so after finding out Bucky's preferences you make the call and place the order. It's going to be about a thirty minute wait, so you fill the time sending Steve pic after pic of Bucky who's none the wiser as he scrolls through his own phone and adding the most asinine comments to each picture. Steve thinks it's absolutely hilarious.

Then when the pizza and wings arrive, you beat Bucky to the door and thrust several bills at the delivery boy. He's more than happy with his tip and you hurriedly wave him off before shutting the door. You laugh at Bucky's disgruntled expression and then place everything on the table while gathering a beer for both you and him.

"Don't let me have more than two," you tell him while handing him his own bottle of beer.

Bucky agrees and the two of you dig into your own personal pizzas and boxes of wings once you're situated around the table. As you're eating, Bucky asks about what other movies you hold near and dear. You fill him in on a few others and he hesitantly puts it out there that he'd be up for another movie marathon when you both have a day off. You agree that that's doable.

Halfway through dinner, as you and Bucky are chuckling over the thought of making Steve sit through Bridesmaids, there's a sound of glass breaking from your living room and a muffled curse. The two of you immediately cease making any type of noise and Bucky is up with a gun in hand.

"Where the hell did that come from?! You hiss.

The telltale sound of a window then sliding shut can be heard.

"Shut up and get behind me."

The authority in his voice makes you freeze and your heart flutter at the same time, and you have to mentally scold yourself before you quickly do as he says. You follow Bucky towards the living, ready to duck at the ready, only to sigh and roll your eyes when you see who it is.

Bucky stands tall and lowers his gun. "Parker." You can practically hear the annoyance in his voice.

"Mr. Barnes?" Peeking around his shoulder, you raise your eyebrow at your best friend who's been too busy for you and is now frowning at Bucky. When he catches sight of you, he asks, "What's going on?"

"Uh, well we were having dinner until we thought someone was breaking in."

"Alone?!"

Your brow furrows at Peter's incredulousness, only for him to realize you're not impressed with his tone. You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms over your chest. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, um, yeah." He shifts from foot to foot, gesturing to his face where there's a scrape on his cheekbone. "My ribs took a beating too. Can you patch me up?"

"Sure." You sigh. "Why not."

Before you can leave to go to the bathroom to get the supplies you need, Bucky says, "I'll just get out of your way then."

You stop and face him. "What? But we haven't even finished our food. It won't take me long."

"It's fine, doll." He grins when he realizes you're trying to get him to stay. "You gotta hit the hay early anyway. We'll talk soon."

You hold his gaze for a moment longer, sighing when he won't budge. "Well at least take your food with you. No use in it going to waste."

Bucky nods and heads back to the kitchen, collecting his food. You watch him and then follow him to the door, holding his food while he bends over to lace up his boots. Once he retakes his food and you open the door, he thanks you for the time away from the tower and disappears down the hall.

Shutting the door and then heading back into the living room, you tell Peter to get back into his regular clothes so you can get to his ribs while you go gather your medical supplies.

Meeting Peter back in the living room and setting everything down on the coffee table, he says, "So you and Bucky-"

"Don't." You pick up the peroxide bottle and soak a cotton ball in it. "Bucky and I are friends."

Peter manages to keep his mouth shut as you clean the scrape on his cheek and place a small bandage on it. Then when you've checked his ribs and tell him he just needs to ice them, he mumbles, "Friends who apparently lick each other." You snort and think nothing of his sullen tone, but when you look at his face you see he's actually being quite serious. There's no chuckle or boyish grin and for a moment you're absolutely floored at his attitude. "I don't think I'm comfortable with Bucky being alone with you in your apartment."

"Are you- are you kidding me?" You huff and take a step back from him. When Peter just continues to frown, you shake your head at him. "First of all, I'm an adult woman who can make her own decisions."

"I know, but-"

"I'm not finished!" You snap. Peter's eyes widen, but he smartly ceases talking. "I am allowed to have friends whether you like them or not. We have a pact, Petey, and since I'm still abiding by it I would hope that you would too."

"Yeah, but that's for significant others!"

"Significant others or friends, it doesn't matter. And you should be grateful I've kept my mouth shut when it comes to you and Leslie because let me tell you, I've been biting my tongue a lot these past few weeks. Bucky and the others have stepped up since you've abandoned me, so you have absolutely no room to tell me that you're uncomfortable with him or any of them being around me."

"Leslie isn't that bad and I have not abandoned you." You snort, but don't bother opening that can of worms even further. He finally gets annoyed with your quietness. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here because you needed a bandage. Tell me, Peter, where are you going after here? Where are you going after making five minutes of small talk and calling it a night?" He opens his mouth and then snaps it shut, shrugs, and you shake your head at him once more in disappointment. "Exactly. Just go, Peter. I'm so over this conversation right now and I have work in the morning."

"Wait, but we promised we'd never leave a conversation where we were still annoyed with each other!"

"And we also promised we'd never judge who the other decided to spend time with, but here we are." He frowns at you. "Go to your girlfriend, Peter. We'll talk again in another few days or weeks or whenever. I don't care right now."

Peter stands there, gaping, before he pulls himself together and makes his way back towards the window he had crawled through. He glances at you one last time, but you merely keep staring until his mask encompasses his head once more and he lifts the window before taking his leave.

As the window shuts behind him, you sag in on yourself and your breathing stutters in your chest as your eyes fill with tears. You've never been this angry at Peter and the fact that he thinks it's okay to ignore you until he needs something and then has an opinion about who you hang out with was just too much for you to let slide.

You quickly gather everything from your coffee table and return it to its rightful place in your bathroom, and throw away the trash. Your appetite is long gone, so you put up what's left of your food and then head to your room to gather some clothes so you can shower and get into bed.

By the time you've crawled into bed, you're still a bit annoyed. So grabbing your phone, you pull up your text messages and click on Bucky's thread.

To Bucky: Well that was a shit show. I don't think I've ever made Petey leave my apartment while we were still angry with each other.

From Bucky: I'm sorry, doll. Anything I can do?

To Bucky: If he gives you attitude, get a non-serum individual to punch him. You, Steve, and probably Nat will send him flying into the wall.

From Bucky: If I remember..

To Bucky: Well I mean if you forget, I won't complain. I'll probably laugh when he comes crying to me.

From Bucky: You're a terrible human being.

To Bucky: Whatever. You adore me just the way I am. And now I should get some shut eye. I'll talk to you soon. Night, Sarge.

From Bucky: Night, sweetheart.

For the next couple of weeks, you keep yourself busy with work. Bucky and a few others do go on a mission as he said they would, so you keep your texts to a minimum of three each day- a good morning, a random story from that day, and a good night. They're gone for four days and in those four days you've not heard from Peter. The only reason you know he's not completely done with you is the fact he likes your posts that you put up on social media.

But since you're not currently speaking to your best friend and are too exhausted to hang out with anyone else, you're in a bit of a funk and completely caught off guard one evening when the patient a police officer brings in smacks you right across the face. You had been trying to insert an IV into his arm when he completely lost his shit, and then you were hit so hard that you were strewn across the gurney behind you. And in your vulnerable position, a fistful of your hair had been grabbed and yanked right before the police officer had intervened and pulled the patient off of you.

You had been given a bit of time to ice your cheek before you had to get back to work, but your face and scalp were hurting you the entire time.

On your way home, however, you're surprised to receive a call from Pepper. You're heading towards your apartment complex when she invites you to dinner there at the tower since Darcy is finally back in town, and you hate to do it, but you're not exactly up to be around such a rowdy bunch. So you apologize to Pepper and ask her to apologize to Darcy for you, and take a rain check. Immediately she knows something is wrong, but you only tell her you had a rough night at work and all you want is a hot shower and to crawl into bed. She hesitates but wishes you well, and the call ends moments later.

When you get home, you waste no time in locking the door behind you and heading straight for your bathroom. You strip down and take the hottest shower your body is capable of handling, and let yourself relax in the steam-filled room. Afterwards, as you're drying off, you gently dry your hair since your scalp is still sensitive and then get dressed in some of your comfort clothes.

Then heading out into the kitchen, you find some leftovers in your fridge and heat those up, tiredly sitting at your kitchen table and digging in. Just as you're done with your food and heading towards the living room, someone pounds on your apartment door. You sigh, hoping they go away, and have only plopped down onto the sofa when a familiar gruff voice speaks through the wood.

You quietly groan as Bucky tells you he knows you're there and you get up to open the door for him. He's on the verge of knocking again when you swing the door open. "Hey. Pepper said-" He trails off as he takes in your appearance, expression going slack before his jaw clenches in anger. "Who?"

You shake your head, gesturing him inside as you turn around and walk towards your sofa. You hear your door click shut before the footsteps follow you. "Work got a little hectic. No need to hunt down anyone, Barnes. I'm fine."

"Half your face is bruised, doll. You are not fine."

"It's all part of my job." You shrug and plop down onto the sofa once more. Pulling a blanket over your lap, you stare up at your friend. "There will always be a drunk and disorderly patient. I was just lucky he didn't do more damage."

Bucky frowns, but he doesn't push you on it. Instead, he walks over and sits next to you, angling his body towards yours when gentle fingers grasp your chin to angle your face more towards him. "What exactly happened?" He asks as his eyes dart over every inch of your face.

"Some petty criminal did some damage to his head in the back of a patrol car. Police officer brought him in and he seemed pretty docile up until I jabbed him with the IV. He got the drop on me. It happens." Gentle fingers brush along your cheekbone and you flinch. Tears sting your eyes as you sniffle. "I'm fine."

"Just because you keep sayin' that doesn't mean it's true."

Your bottom lip wobbles at his words and you lose the battle with keeping the tears at bay. The moment they fall, Bucky pulls you into a hug and you cry into his shoulder. "Dammit," you mumble. "See what you started!"

Bucky chuckles and he holds you a few moments longer, rubbing a hand up and your back to offer a semblance of comfort. When he lets you go, you fall back against the sofa cushions and wipe the tears away with your blanket. "So what are we watching?" He asks while settling in next to you and draping an arm behind your head.

"Shouldn't you go back to the tower and have dinner with the rest of them? I'm-"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I will drag you back to the tower and let Steve motherhen you."

You sigh. "Low blow, Buckaroo."

"And for that horrendous nickname, you've lost the privilege of choosing what we're going to watch."

You laugh and don't bother arguing with him about it as he leans across you to snag up the remote. When he settles back down and you snuggle into his side, you huff a small laugh when he settles on TLC which is showing 90 Day Fiancé.

"Why this show?" You ask.

"Because it blows my mind that some people are so oblivious and can't see that their chosen partner is only in it for the green card."

As you let his reasoning sink in, you can't help but giggle as you picture Bucky sitting in his own apartment and bad mouthing the TV because he didn't like the decisions the people were making in their love life. You watch along with him, cringing at the more obvious couples that are only headed for future divorce and smiling when one of the couples is actually in it for love.

You manage to almost watch a complete two hour episode when there's a knock on your door, but you're too comfortable to get up and answer it.

"You get it," you say as you nudge Bucky.

He nudges you back. "It's your apartment."

"Yeah, but I don't feel like getting up."

"You could have at least come up with a better excuse."

You grin, finally taking your eyes off the screen and glancing up at Bucky. "M'too tired. Brain's not working fast enough." He continues to give you a deadpan stare until you jut out your bottom lip. "Please?"

The second Bucky's lips twitch, you know you've won. He huffs and roughly pushes himself up off the sofa as if answering the door is a hardship, and you go back to watching TV. At least until you hear a familiar voice stammer, "Uh, h-hey Mr. Barnes. Is Y/N home?"

Your gaze snaps towards the door where Peter is standing out in the hallway, hands in his pockets as he sheepishly stares at Bucky. The man in question turns and raises an eyebrow at you as if saying what do I do and you give him a terse nod to let him know it's okay. Bucky steps aside and Peter readily walks in.

"I should be getting back to the tower," Bucky suddenly says. "You kids have fun."

This time it's your turn to give him a deadpan stare and he smirks right before slipping his boots back on. Then as soon as they're laced up, he's walking out the door and shutting it behind him. Peter, who hadn't stopped staring at the intimidating man, finally turns to look at you. And when he does, his eyes widen.

"What happened to your face?!"

You sigh. "I'm fine. Just had a little incident at work."

"And Mr. Barnes was what? Comforting you?"

"First of all, can you stop calling him Mr. Barnes? You two avenge together and what not. I'm pretty sure that means you're on a first name basis." Peter grins as he takes a seat on the recliner near you, shrugging. "And Bucky was here because when I turned down dinner at the tower, Pepper figured something was wrong. Bucky took it upon himself to check in."

"So are you two like a thing or something?" He wonders.

"We're just.. friends," you say. "For some unknown reason we clicked and we're comfortable in each other's company."

For a moment Peter doesn't say anything, nor will he meet your gaze, but then he's looking at you and sighing. "I'm sorry." You blink at him, surprised to hear the apology. "I shouldn't have freaked out that one night. Who you are friends with and who you decide to date is your business."

You finally smile, even though it's rather small. "Thank you. And don't get me wrong, I know you meant well, but you should have dropped it and just trusted my judgment."

"Yeah. I know," he mumbles.

"Soo.. are we good?" You ask.

"Yeah."

"Good. I was getting tired of you liking my posts and not commenting on them."

Peter snorts. A moment of silence passes and then he says, "So you'll be glad to know that Leslie and I aren't together anymore. I broke it off earlier tonight."

You wince. "Sorry."

"Nah. Don't be. She was totally using me for access to the tower." You're torn between being smug about being right and being sad for your friend who just ended his relationship. "I only realized it earlier when she got upset because Mr. Rogers posted a picture of you and Mr. Barnes together, and she had a few choice words to say about it."

"What? Steve posted a picture of us?" You quickly pull out your phone, checking social media for any notifications. There are none, but as you get on Instagram you check Steve's page and sure enough there's a new pic that shows Bucky staring fondly at you as you laugh at something on your phone. "That little shit didn't tag us!"

As your thumbs move furiously to give Steve a piece of your mind and to comment how adorable you and Bucky look, Peter can't help but say, "You're attracted to him."

Your texting falters and you quickly glance at your friend to gauge his reaction, but when he just looks amused, you shrug. "I mean have you seen him? How could I not be attracted to him?"

"Does he know?"

"I have a feeling he does. Asshole likes to fluster me every now and then."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure he likes you back." You snort and go back to finishing up the comment on Steve's post. "I'm serious. When we stopped talking, he threatened me. He was pissed that I made you cry and said I was lucky. He's actually really scary when you're on his bad side."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do you can feel your ears heating up, followed by your cheeks. Peter starts to laugh and you groan in embarrassment. "Why is this so weird? Dating should be easy!"

"Well he is an Avenger.."

"I don't care about that! He's just- he's really, really hot. It's intimidating."

"Wait, what?" Peter huffs. "So you're intimidated by his hotness and not because he's a super-soldier with a metal arm?"

"Well yeah."

Expression melting into one of confusion, your friend eventually shakes his head at you. "You're on your own with that. Good luck."

You hadn't realized how much everyone had known about your and Peter's brief falling out until the two of you were laughing together once again at the tower. It seemed like everyone had sagged in relief now that the two of you were poking fun at one another once more, and you had to apologize for apparently making it awkward for them.

And now that your best friend knew of your crush on a certain super-soldier, there was lots of teasing material. Of course you kept him in line when you could, but there was no stopping the force of Peter, Wanda, and Darcy combined.

It's a random Tuesday night when you've driven over to the Tower, Bucky having called you over for dinner with a few friends. You had the day off so you didn't mind heading on over, but as the elevator doors slide open after having ridden up to the communal floor, you yelp in surprise as the small gathered crows that shout, "Happy birthday!", at you.

Steve, Wanda, Sam, and Peter pop confetti poppers as you step out of the elevator, eyes wide as you glance between each of them. "My birthday is not until tomorrow!" You hiss.

"But you work tomorrow." Wanda frowns.

"Mhm." Your eyes then narrow, glancing behind them at the streamers and balloons hanging from the ceiling. "And how'd you guys even know?"

Everyone glances at Peter and he takes a step back when your gaze slides to him. He chuckles sheepishly. "I might have hid your birthday cupcake here and Steve found it."

"Petey," you groan. "Why couldn't you just hide it at aunt May's like usual? You know I dislike birthday celebrations."

"You don't dislike them. You just dislike all the attention being on you."

"Whatever. Where's Barnes? He's the one who lured me here under false pretenses. I got a bone to pick with him too."

Everyone turns around and Bucky's head appears from around the corner. He smirks and you glare at him. "Not false pretenses. We are having dinner," he says. "It just so happens to be a birthday dinner. And it's running a little bit late, so until the food gets here you get to open presents."

"You guys all suck."

Peter and Wanda each take a hand and drag you further into the room, heading towards the kitchen. Bucky fully steps out from behind the wall and you aim a kick at his shin as you're walking by. He laughs as he easily dodges it and then you're standing by the kitchen island that's been cleared of everything other than birthday presents.

You huff a small laugh and shake your head fondly at them. "I love you guys, but you do know you didn't have to get me anything, right?"

"Shut up and open the presents," Bucky says.

"Open mine first," Sam says, reaching into the small pile and pulling out a white envelope. "Unlike the others, I was literally told within the last thirty minutes we were doing this so yeah. It's not the best present, but I think you'll enjoy it."

You smile at Sam as you open it, chuckling at the plain birthday card and his brief personal message written inside. But it's what else that's inside that makes you meet Sam's gaze once more, smiling fondly at him. "Thank you. I can't get enough of bubble tea and I'm sure I can do some damage with this gift card."

"You're welcome."

"Mine next." Peter reaches in for a medium-sized box and hands it over to you. "I know you're not a fan of presents, so I got you something I actually knew you'd enjoy."

Raising an eyebrow at him, you pull the lid off of the box. Then glancing down, you snort before pulling out a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila. "I knew we were best friends for a reason."

Steve groans. "Please drink responsibly."

"Please. Responsible is my middle name, Rogers." Everyone snorts and instead of trying to remain serious and feign offense, you end up laughing. "Sam and Buck are good babysitters. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's to be determined," he says. "Here. Open mine. I honestly had no idea what to get you, but Peter assured me you'd enjoy this."

Putting the bottle of tequila back in its box, you accept Steve's gift. Pulling off the ribbon, you can't help but laugh when you see what's inside. "Cards Against Humanity." Peter cheers. "We're playing this the next time I have off," you say, grinning at Steve.

"What is Cards Against Humanity?" He wonders. "I just picked it up and boxed it."

"It's possibly one of the most confusing card games or raunchy card games you'll ever play," Sam says. "I, for one, am looking forward to it."

"Thank you, Steve. I seriously can't wait to play it."

"You're welcome."

Wanda claps her hands. "Mine and Darcy's next. She ordered online and I had to pick it up earlier. But, um, I'm not sure you want to open it up in front of everyone."

"Oh god. Don't tell me it's a vibrator."

Sam laughs out loud as both Peter and Steve start blushing. Bucky looks rather amused and intrigued as Wanda slides two boxes over to you. She shakes her head, giggling. "Not quite."

For a brief moment you're relieved, but then her answer sinks in and you're hesitant all over again. You groan. "Is yours safer? I feel like it is. Which one is it?"

Wanda only smirks as she pushes her box towards you. You open it, marvel at its contents, and then put the lid back on much to the boys' displeasure. Trying to keep a straight face, you look at Wanda. "How many sets did you get?"

"There's four. All in colors that will look amazing against your skin tone."

"Thank you. I'll send you pictures when I wear them."

"Yes please! Natasha wants to know how they fit as well. She was the one who suggested them."

"I'll send them to the ladies group chat then."

"Well that's not fair," Sam complains. "First for not showing us what's inside the box and then you guys have a ladies only group chat. I wanna be in the ladies only group chat."

"But then that defeats the purpose of it being a ladies only group chat," you muse.

"Come on," Peter then whines. "What was the present?"

Your gaze slides to Peter, but instead of outright saying what it is, you say, "Think back to that one Halloween night where you wouldn't let me out of the dorm until I switched costumes."

It takes him only a minute to understand and when he does, he snorts. "That wasn't a costume! That was lingerie."

"Whoa, what?" Sam exclaims, grinning.

"Lingerie can be worn as a costume?" Steve wonders.

"I was actually a Victoria's Secret Angel, complete with the most amazing set of wings, and Petey forbade me from leaving the room. It was a sad, sad night."

"As much as I wanna get into that," Sam says, "I wanna know what Barnes got you more."

You chuckle and glance at Bucky, smile faltering when you see him tense. But then he seems to shake himself out of it and offers you a grin. "Open the bigger one first."

Wanda clears away the other presents as Bucky slides his two towards you. You feel giddy as you grab the bigger box, untying the black silk ribbons and lifting the lid. There's tissue paper you open up and you gasp, happily giggling. "You didn't?!"

"Well you did say it was your favorite movie, sweetheart."

"Yes!" You glance up, beaming at Bucky, and your heart swells at his own smile being directed at you. "I really, really love this. I can't wait to hang it up."

"What is it?" Peter wonders, trying to peer across the island.

"It's a quote from Practical Magic," you say and Peter huffs a laugh, knowing full well your love for that movie. You carefully pick it up and turn it around so everyone can see it as you read it off by heart. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

"Aw," Wanda coos. "That's adorable."

"I made Bucky watch this movie a while back," you say. "I need to show it to you one of these days."

"I'm looking forward to it," she says.

With nothing else to say, you place it back in its box and set it aside in favor for the second box. It's a little smaller, but you're excited for it nonetheless. Untying the ribbon and lifting the lid, you immediately laugh at the white petals scattered atop the tissue paper.

"Barnes, you smooth sonuvabitch," Sam mutters.

Steve and Peter laugh, but you're so focused on the notecard that's under some of the petals. Lifting it up, you read the note to yourself because immediately you know it's personal. My better half has to be funny, get along with my friends, won't judge me for my past, and has decent taste in movies.

Heart fluttering, you bite the corner of your lip when it feels like you're smiling way too much.

"Well what does Prince Charming have to say?" Sam asks.

"That's none of your business." You close the note and then tuck into your back pocket, chuckling when Sam and Wanda complain. When you meet Bucky's gaze, you immediately flush and mentally curse yourself when you see him smirk in return.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you center yourself and then part the tissue paper. You look at the second portrait and gasp after you read it.

"What? What is it?" Peter wonders.

This second portrait is of a hand drawn bowl with a tipped over salt shaker, a small bundle of lavender, a small bundle of rosemary, and a heart beneath it. Above the bowl is a swirl of flower petals and inside the swirl of petals, in very pretty cursive writing, are the words I wished for you too.

Did he just- did he confess his own feelings by using a Practical Magic quote? Or was this just you overthinking his present? You glance to meet Bucky's gaze and at his gauging expression your eyes fill with tears.

"What did you do, Barnes?!" Sam scolds him. "You made the poor girl cry at her own birthday celebration!"

But Bucky isn't paying him any attention, instead he's solely focused on you. You set the present aside and walk around the kitchen island on shaky legs, and Bucky readily reaches for your waist as you grab his face and pull him down into a kiss.

You can't believe you're kissing Bucky, but then he squeezes your waist and returns the kiss, and you know you made the right choice.

Someone gasps, but then the following words let you know exactly who it is. "Darcy is going to be so angry she missed this." Wanda. That is Wanda.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam wonders. "What type of present can cause this type of reaction?"

You smile against Bucky's mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before falling flat on your feet after having been on the tips of your toes in order to reach his mouth.

"It's my favorite quote from my favorite movie," you say. You turn around to address your friends, but Bucky doesn't let you go far. He wraps one arm around your waist and tugs you back so you're resting against his chest and tucked beneath his chin. "It's a movie about witches," you explain. "These two little girls are being raised by their aunts and they see them performing love spells for a local woman. Basically, one of the young girls refuses to fall in love after witnessing a love spell gone wrong and she does her own spell to call forward a love that would be impossible to find- a man who's favorite shape would be a star and who had one green eye, one blue. Years down the road, the sisters accidentally murder a man."

Sam snorts. "How the hell does one accidentally murder someone?"

"Shush." Wanda admonishes him. "I want to hear the story behind the gift."

You and Bucky chuckle, and you continue to explain. "Anyway, they send in an US Marshall to investigate the disappearance and the one who had done the love spell at a young age starts to fall for this man. She ends up telling him about the murder, but he doesn't quite believe her. Then they're on the verge of hooking up when she gets a good look at his eyes- one green eye, one blue."

"Oh my god. That's so cute!" Wanda says.

"It gets cuter. And sadder," you say. "So she explains to this man about her family, the murder, and how she can't be with him because he's only attracted to her because of a love spell she did when she was just a little girl. At first he's skeptical about this spell bringing him to her, but then he ends up believing her. And as he's walking away from her, he stops to tell her I wished for you too."

"So you made out with Barnes because of that?" Sam shakes his head, chuckling. "Wow."

"It's fuckin' adorable. Stop ruining the moment, Samuel!" Bucky laughs at your words and pulls you closer to him.

"So while I'm happy for Buck," Steve says, "I'm still really curious about what Darcy's gift is."

Peter nods. "Same."

Wanda giggles, but says nothing as she grabs the box and slides it over to you. You groan because you know it can be nothing good, but you still open it since everyone is watching and waiting. As soon as you part the tissue paper and read the box, alongside taking in the picture on the box, your face flames as you shove the lid back on. Wanda cackles.

"I hate her."

"She said to give the remote to-"

"Don't!" You cut Wanda off, blushing even further. "I know who she means to have control of that."

"They- they make underwear that does that?" Bucky muses and you die a little on the inside in embarrassment. You elbow him as he starts to laugh behind you.

Sam instantly knows what the gift is now and starts to laugh, but Steve and Peter apparently need some help.

"Lewis got you vibrating panties, didn't she?"

"Oh my god, Sam, if you don't shut up I'm gonna punch you in the throat."

Steve is torn between laughing and trying not to make you even more uncomfortable, but his amusement wins out. "Given Y/N's flustered state, I'm assuming Darcy wants Bucky to have the remote."

"I mean this seems like it could make for an interesting night."

Everyone laughs at Bucky's sudden interest in the box you're doing your damnedest to keep shut, but luckily Peter steps in. "As much I love watching Y/N squirm, can we get ready to eat? I'm starving."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go wait downstairs for it, kid."

Sam and Peter head for the elevator to take them down to the lobby, and you turn around in Bucky's hold. "Help me take this stuff to my car so I don't have to do it later?"

"Sure thing, doll." He grins. But instead of stepping away, he pushes you further into the kitchen island. You smile as he cages you in and then huff a laugh when he reaches for the box behind you. "So exactly how long do we have to be dating before we can test these out?"

You slowly lean upward so your lips brush his as you say, "I'd say very, very soon if you would put your ass into gear and help me move these presents like I asked."

Bucky laughs and presses a quick kiss to your lips. "Then let's get to it."

The telltale sound of a phone's camera goes off and you turn your face towards the sound. Wanda is beaming, her phone pointed towards you and Bucky. "Darcy wanted evidence I wasn't lying. She's going to be so happy."

Bucky turns his face to look at her then, his cheek brushing against yours where he's yet to back off from you. "Tell Lewis I said thanks for the present. I'll give her my review of them in a few weeks."

Wanda's eyes widen and you immediately blurt, "Don't you dare!" But she's already texting and you know the group chat full of ladies is going to be full of messages that you'll have to reply to later. Quietly groaning, you slap your hands against Bucky's waist and push him back. Looking up at him, you shake your head but the corner of your lips turn up in amusement. "You're terrible. I would threaten to withhold sex, but I've been looking forward to that for a while. I'd just be punishing us both."

"Just tell me when and where, sweetheart, and I'll be there."

"Oh no. You guys are going to be that couple," Steve complains.

And without missing a beat, you face him and say, "Fuck off, Rogers!" Bucky snorts.

"You're cranky when you haven't gotten laid."

You gasp as Bucky bursts out laughing right in your ear, but he quickly catches you as you try to lunge for his best friend. "You know what, I was going to be discreet when banging your best friend, but now I'm going to tell you all the filthy things Bucky likes to do just to annoy you. I will go into excruciating detail about the look and taste of his dick!"

Steve blanches as it's Wanda's turn to burst out laughing. "You've done it now, Steve."

And as Steve looks to Bucky for help, he merely shrugs. "You brought this on yourself, Stevie. Hope you enjoy the play by plays."

Relaxing in Bucky's hold and moving so you're hip to hip with him, you slide your arm behind his waist and hook your thumb into the belt loop of his jeans. "We're going to have so much fun."

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #peter parker #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #darcy lewis #the avengers #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel

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