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andormeddows · 1 year

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I posted 2,443 times in 2022

That's 109 more posts than 2021!

67 posts created (3%)

2,376 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ferrisbuellers

@deanwwinchester

@flythesail

@helnjk

@natasharomanovf

I tagged 2,443 of my posts in 2022

#stranger things - 575 posts

#marvel - 407 posts

#star wars - 390 posts

#steve harrington - 185 posts

#eddie munson - 175 posts

#stranger things 4 - 159 posts

#billy hargrove - 112 posts

#obi-wan kenobi - 112 posts

#moon knight - 97 posts

#anakin skywalker - 82 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#when harrow called steven’s mother and steven instantly started crying… because… deep down… he knew his mother was dead… oh… my heart!

My Top Posts in 2022:

CAN YOU KEEP THE SUIT ON? . POE DAMERON

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: The one where distractions weren't supposed to diverge your attention when leading a mission, but Poe Dameron in a suit is enough to do so.

Word count: 4305.

Warnings: Strictly 18+. I don’t want minors interacting with this piece of writing. Dirty talk, swearing, thigh-riding, overstimulation, suit kink.

Notes: This is a repost. See you all in hell, my lovelies. I’ve sinned. It’s been a while since I actually wrote some smut, so I’ve had to search for some references here and here. I hope enjoy it! Keep in mind that English is not my first language. Sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Masterlist is here!

PLEASE, CONSIDER REBLOGGING THIS AND/OR GIVING ME FEEDBACK, I WOULD APPRECIATE IT A LOT!

The sleepless city lights blazed brightly as the landspeeder accelerated through the crowded streets inside Canto Casino and Racetrack, a complex composed of several casinos and restaurants, including a racetrack and a hotel. You and Poe Dameron, on the backseat, headed back to the hotel you were staying while in Canto Bight. Poe had his head propped against your shoulder as one of your hands slowly caressed his scalp, which caused him to doze off after all the agitation of the night. You watched the high buildings towering over the traffic, the people on the streets, the starry sky even though the bright lights practically erased all of them.

You would never have imagined one day you would be the one leading a mission. At Canto Bight, you had been instructed to investigate Trou Bond’s, a bounty hunter, whereabouts alongside Rontri Estala, Yui Tonk and “a pilot of your choice, preferably the best pilot in the galaxy”, according to General Dameron. Uh, well, better: according to your, uh, hook-up Poe Dameron.

Trou Bond had been capturing Resistance members and allies – scattered across the galaxy in order to restore the New Republic – after the First Order’s defeat at Exegol. The Crescent Royale Casino at Canto Casino and Racetrack seemed to be Bond’s addiction, in which its credits, according to an informant, were commonly lost in endless Sabacc matches. Although the Bounty Hunters’ Guild favoured the Resistance during the Cold War against the First Order, Bond’s loyalty, apparently, lay with the latter.

You averted your dreamy gaze to Poe, smiling softly at his drowsy state. Your other hand rested on his tight, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over it. Poe had one of his hands loosely wrapped around your waist. He sleepily hid his face in the crook of your neck, lightly pressing his lips against your skin. You hummed quietly at his gesture. Until you reached the hotel, both of you stayed in a comfortable silence. Every now and then, Poe would peck your lips out of the blue, causing you to smile and reciprocate the gesture. However, your kisses were longer, passionate and slightly needy.

The truth was that you had to endure a endless night beside Poe in that suit, which had you feeling quite frustrated. You loved the way it fit him perfectly. Maker, it was driving you crazy how his trousers were just tight enough and how his jacket wrapped around his rather muscular body. You kept biting your lips, pressing them in a thin line as you intently watched him interact with selected humans and creatures.

When both of you stepped out of the landspeeder and reached the inside of the building, meters apart from Rontri and Yui – a temporary fake couple in honeymoon – the hotel hall was strangely quiet compared to the constant buzz of the Crescent Royale Casino. Apart from a few other guests that were on the Canto Casino and Racetrack by the fancy dresses and suits that were around, there were few hotel workers to welcome those who arrived late at night.

It was only after getting to the elevator, seeing the doors close in front of you and leaving you alone inside the machine that your body collapsed in sexual frustration, obliging you to break the silence that had settled between you and Poe by hastily pinning him against the whitish marble elevator wall.

“You know I have a thing for men in suits,” you whispered hoarsely in his ear after kissing the spot right below it. Anticipation burned inside of your longing organism for an unholy carnal conjunction. Trembly fingers. Ragged breath. Hardly noticeable moan at the thought of you fucking in the elevator, his tie askew, the button up shirt half undone, and the jacket long forgotten on the whitish marble floor. “And I had to watch you the whole fucking night in this one.”

“W-What?” Poe stuttered, a confused gaze wandering through your features as though it revealed the mystery behind your sudden movement. Well, as a matter of fact, there was no mystery, but a sexually frustrated hook-up pinning him against the whitish marble elevator wall, mission hastily buried inside your brain. You delicately dragged your fingers down his black tie, inciting involuntary reactions from him, a slight buckle of hips that would have been unnoticed if sexual frustration did not pump through your arteries and veins. Poe gulped quietly, intently watching your fingers slide down his abdomen to pull at the waistband of his trousers underneath his jacket.

“Maker, stop,” Poe warned sternly, his intense – and anxious – gaze locking with yours as he firmly pulled your hand away. Another buckle of his hips betrayed him, causing you lips to smirk. Your faces were so close, you could smell a faint scent of alcohol on Poe’s breath.

“Or what?” You asked innocently against his lips, skin dragging against one another. “Are you ripping this dress from me right in an elevator, Poe? Are you, darling?”

“Fuck,” he exhaled in frustration, taking one of his hands to his wavy hair and sliding it through his locks. All the tiredness from before due to the endless investigation was completely gone from his bones, anticipation shooting through his arteries and veins.

“Hm, you do want me out of this dress, don’t you, Poe?” You laughed quietly, capturing his lips in a slow and sensual kiss when the elevator dinged, and a masculine voice announced the floor number. Fingers eagerly explored each other’s body, pretending to venture in undiscovered land when, in fact, minds easily traced paths along layers of clothes which hid mapped territory. You stumbled out of the elevator when the doors ghosted open, pulling at your dress to prevent yourself from stepping over it. The hallway was eerily silent. The buzz caused by your noisy surrounding at the casino insistently rang inside of your skull, annoyingly contrasting with the silence engulfing you. The corridor lights were off until you stepped under a sensor, causing all the dim yellow lights to quickly lit up. Poe’s hands eagerly searched for your body, a light in the dark, pinning you against the nearest hallway wall.

“You look stunning in this dress, YN, I must admit it,” he had his hands on your waist, his eyes eagerly met yours once again, trying to find the same needy feeling hidden inside of them. “But, yes, I’d rather see you out of it.”

You laughed loudly as he stole a kiss from your slightly-lipstick-smeared lips. “Oh, and what exactly do you have in mind, Mr. Dameron? Oh, hm, General Dameron?”

Poe Dameron bit his bottom lip. He nearly missed your lips as his were a tad too far left and his nose bumped against yours, but he persisted. You maneuvered your mouth into position, tilting your head so that your lips could meet firmly and happily at last. “Maybe eat you out in this suit? Would you like that?”

“Oh, Maker, shut up. Fuck. Fuck, Poe,” a hiss escaped from your lips – which dangerously seemed a whine –, a breathless laugh escaping from your lips as your eyes averted to both sides of the empty corridor. “Y-Yes. Fuck, yes, I’d love it.”

“Hell, you surely would, wouldn’t you?”

You could feel arousal menacingly pulsing in your arteries and veins, making your fingers tremble in desire as shivers shot through your bones. “Are you going to make me feel good? So good that I’ll moan your name until dawn while you eat me out?”

“You bet, darling.”

You and Poe hurried to your hotel room not being able to keep your hands off each other, stealing kisses and sharing the same burning desire. Again, he pushed you to the nearest hallway wall as you reached your room door, crashing his lips against your neck. He hungrily bit at your skin and sucked faint hickeys as he blindly tried to find the slot to push the card in and unlock the door.

“So eager, aren’t we?” You teased, pulling the card from his fingers, and pushing it hard in the slot as he kept kissing your neck, warm breath hitting your skin. You pushed the door open and your lips met once again in a quick kiss. Poe held on to your body as you entered the room and slammed your fingers against the light switch, repeatedly missing the buttons until they accidentally pressed against them, turning on a few of the yellow lights.

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106 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

FEAR AND LOATHING . BILLY HARGROVE

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader.

Summary: The one where you face the consequences of watching Billy being hurt by his father.

Word count: 3437.

Notes: This is a sequel to Respect and Responsibility. I hope you enjoy! Keep in mind that English is not my first language. Sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Warnings: Shameless angst, underage smoking, cursing, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood.

Masterlist is here! The sequel, Miscommunication and Misunderstanding, is here!

PLEASE, CONSIDER REBLOGGING THIS AND/OR GIVING ME FEEDBACK, I WOULD APPRECIATE IT A LOT!

Eddie Munson knocked on your door.

“I’m ready!”

You wrenched the door open and descended the trailer steps. The air was cold, the sky was blue – a faint shade of blue – the grass was damp, and the sun was hidden behind the forest trees. Except for birds chirping in the forest and a radio playing nearby, your surroundings were eerily quiet.

“How are you? How was your weekend?”

“Oh,” you shrugged, but your mind was flooded with unpleasant memories. “Yeah, alright,” you vaguely answered as your eyes avoided his. “How’bout yours?”

“Yeah, alright,” he shrugged. “We finished another D&D campaign yesterday.”

“Oh, how was it?”

“We were… All brutally killed!” Eddie suddenly jumped in front of you as a fake menacing expression molded his features. His voice echoed in the trailer park.

“Eddie!” You laughed at the exaggeration and pushed him to the side to open the passenger door of his van.

Once inside, he started the engine. “Choose our soundtrack of the day.”

“Do you have anything in mind? You know I like the Iron Maiden ones you presented me,” you mused as you opened the glove compartment above your legs and blindly grasped two cassette tapes. “Here we have… Dio and Deep Purple. Deep Purple is a cool name for a band.”

“Oh, is it Burn? My uncle gave it to me! Shall we listen to it?” Eddie extended his right hand to you, and you placed the cassette tape on it.

Eddie pushed it in the slot and the first song blasted through the speakers. He drove off. The van windows were open, and the wind caressed your skin as Eddie happily sang the lyrics of the song. Routine. Every morning had been essentially the same since you moved to Forest Hill Trailer Park and Wayne Munson offered a ride to school on Eddie’s behalf when you randomly met at the supermarket on a Saturday afternoon. Why would you refuse when the walk to the nearest bus stop lasted, at least, twenty minutes? You needed twenty more minutes in bed. For sure.

When Eddie parked the van in Hawkins High School, you hopped off it and thanked him for the ride. He stayed behind to wait for one of his friends. You pushed the double door open and entered the main corridor. Your fingers involuntarily tightened around the shoulder strap of your shabby bag, and you gulped. You had had no contact with the blonde-haired boy since the ride from his house to yours and there was no clue about how your secret meeting of the day behind the gymnasium would play out. Would he even show up? Or would he ignore your existence now that you possessed ugly details about his private life?

“Aren’t you tired of being a loser, Harrington?” Tommy Hagan’s laughter echoed in the crowded corridor.

A few heads turned in his direction, including yours. Steve Harrington had been surrounded by Tommy and two friends, who stupidly sniggered at Tommy’s words as he reached for Steve’s right arm to pitifully squeeze it. Slowly approaching the scene in the corridor, your eyes registered Steve’s beaten-up features, and your eyebrows involuntarily contorted in a disgusted frown. His face bore different shades of purple-green ecchymosis; his right eye was slightly swollen; and his forehead, his nose and his chin bore cuts.

Steve impatiently shoved Tommy’s hand away. “Fuck off.”

“What?” Tommy intently glared at and menacingly stepped closer to the brown-haired boy. The scene was rather comic, since Tommy was slightly shorter than Steve, and, well, based solely on his height, Tommy wasn’t menacing at all.

“Fuck off,” Steve repeated in an evidently annoyed tone.

Someone lightly touched your arms from behind, and you stopped walking to turn to the person responsible for the gesture. Chrissy sweetly smiled at you. “How are you?”

“Yeah, alright,” you promptly lied as you swiftly hugged her.

“Yesterday, on the phone–”

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136 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

WALKIE-TALKIE . EDDIE MUNSON

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The one where Eddie and the Reader fuck and Steve not so accidentally notices something happening in the background while he briefly talks to Eddie on his walkie-talkie. (Dustin was spared from any traumas, don't worry about him. I know he's grown up since season 1, but I still sense some innocence in him...)

Word count: 3507.

Warnings: Strictly 18+, I don’t want minors interacting with this piece of writing. Shameless smut, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, mutual masturbation, swearing, hand and finger kink, Steve listens to part of the foreplay.

Notes: Hi, this was a request I received from @eddiexmxnson (I hope you like it!). Here we are, sinning again. Porn with minimum plot, I guess. Let's just assume Eddie fucking lived, alright, since this is set after season 4. I hope you enjoy it! Keep in mind that English is not my first language. Sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Masterlist is here!

PLEASE, CONSIDER REBLOGGING THIS AND/OR GIVING ME FEEDBACK, I WOULD APPRECIATE IT A LOT!

Eddie Munson. The Eddie Munson. The murderer. Or the hero. It depended on the story that escaped from people’s mouths. The name definitely polarized the Hawkins citizens, but it usually aroused hysteria – including on your parents’ part –, which peaked when he was dismissed from the hospital. Rumour has it he, along with Steve Harington, had been badly injured by an unknown creature. Chunks of muscles were missing, and a considerable amount of blood had been lost by them when the paramedic personnel surrounded the teenagers. At the time, a considerable number of parents demanded his expulsion from Hawkins High School, and the chaos caused by them required Jim Hopper himself, restored to Chief of Police, to intervene by firmly denying it. Eddie Munson would return to Hawkins High School under police protection if necessary.

Well, bless Jim Hopper. If Eddie Munson hadn’t returned, your bodies wouldn’t be pressed against one another as you hungrily kissed each other on a Wednesday afternoon after class. Long story short, you had snatched ,from one of the bulletin boards, and tossed it in the nearest bin an Eddie Munson “MISSING PERSON” leaflet in which the devil’s features had been sketched on him. The gesture caused quite a commotion between the students, since no one other than Dustin or Lucas was ever seen taking those leaflets down, since it implied allegiance to those “nerds”. Dustin, in fact, had stopped you on the corridor to thank you. Soon enough, Eddie nervously approached you during lunchtime to do the same, and his “thank you” had escalated to a friendship, which, in turn, had escalated to… something... “Something” meant fucking every now and then. It usually happened in school, but on that Wednesday afternoon, it happened in his trailer.

When you closed the door of Eddie’s van, a mirthful laugh reached your ears, and your head turned to the source of the noise. Three old men were sitting around a round wooden table playing cards. Several beer cans were abandoned on the grass at their feet. “Oi! Munson got’is next victim, boys.”

“Fuckers,” Eddie mumbled, and gave them the finger.

He shut the door of the trailer as soon as you followed him inside, and annoyance contorted his features. You abandoned your bag on the kitchen counter and approached Eddie. Your left-hand fingers delicately reached for his, and your right-hand fingers caressed the right side of his face. “Come here, Eddie.”

Your lips pressed against his, hesitantly at first, awaiting a response. As soon as his lips hungrily pressed against yours, a smile contorted them. Then, his hands reached for your body and hurriedly pulled it close to his. You could feel the metallic rings, the Eddie Munson rings, burning your skin through your blouse and a shot of pleasure exploded through your veins. Then, his feet carried yourselves backwards until his back touched the counter. Your feet accidentally bumped against one another in the process.

“Oh, sorry!”

Eddie laughed against your lips. “No!”

“Shut up.”

You pecked the smile on his lips, and his fingers squeezed your waist. He wanted more. So much more. Then, he captured your lips in another hungry kiss, saliva smeared around your lips as your tongues worked against one another. Your hands wandered to his shoulders and pulled at his black leather jacket, but they stopped midway once he delicately bit your lower lip. You softly sighed, and he interrupted the kiss to lovingly gaze at you as he finished to take off the piece of clothing, abandoned on the counter.

“Shall we go to my room, milady?”

“I feel like I’m a thousand years old when you say ‘milady’, Eddie.”

A mirth laughter escaped from his lips, and he hugged you. “C’mon. My back hurts pressed against the counter,” he pushed himself from the counter and motioned, with his head, to the direction of his bedroom. A silent laughter escaped from his lips this time. “Right, I’m a thousand years old now,” he mused, and you smiled at him. “But my back indeed hurts.”

You followed him through the narrow trailer hallway to his room. It was incredibly tidy for a chaotic person, in a good way, such as Eddie. A bandana had been abandoned by the door, and you accidentally stepped on it, reaching for and replacing it on the nearest shelf of a rack. Then, without another distraction, your eyes proceeded to properly register your surroundings.

“Eddie Munson plays the electric guitar. This is new,” you noted as your eyes roamed the instrument and he closed the door of the bedroom. Your imagination merrily fabricated flashes of his hands rapidly sliding on the neck of the guitar and of his silver rings brightly shining in contrast with the dark sculpted piece of wood. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s my most precious belonging,” he mused. “Along with these tapes!”

He hurriedly collected a few cassette tapes laying scattered near the radio cassette player on the floor. You distinguished Iron Maiden, Dio, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Metallica and Motörhead cassette tapes when he shoved them into your hands and proceeded to close the curtains. “Well, I know nothing about these bands, but they seem… Interesting if they inspire you to have long hair and wear cool clothes and be stylish as hell.”

“You can borrow the tapes if you’d like,” he timidly offered, pulling at the last pair of curtains and hiding the old men playing cards from view. “They believe whenever I’m home, I’m engaging in ‘satanic rituals’,” he mocked.

“Well, firstly, I’d rather listen to these along with you,” you boldly suggested and picked a Motörhead cassette player, abandoning the other tapes on the nearest furniture. “Secondly, let them believe that,” you smirked and cupped Eddie’s face as soon as he turned to you.

Your lips met in another kiss. He had propped one of his legs on the mattress to reach the curtains above his bed, so you took advantage of his position and pushed him to fully sit on the furniture. You arched forward to accompany the change in position, and Eddie’s hands reached for your waist, intending to pull you towards him to sit on his lap.

“Wait,” you mumbled against his lips.

Small openings between the curtains allowed daylight to invade the bedroom, but they were not enough to illuminate it properly, so you stretched towards one of the lamps and switched it on. The yellow light added a cozy touch to the once dark place. Then, you paced towards the radio cassette player. “May I?”

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161 notes - Posted July 19, 2022

RESPECT AND RESPONSIBILITY . BILLY HARGROVE

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader.

Summary: The one where you and Billy are unexpectedly interrupted because Max decided to hunt Demodogs with Dustin, Lucas and Steve.

Word count: 2462.

Notes: I recently finished watching Stranger Things (I had never watched it!) and I'm obsessed with the scene in S02E08 between Neil and Billy Hargrove. It added interesting layers to Dacre Montgomery's character! I basically transcripted the scene, but added the Reader (and some depth) in it. I hope you enjoy! Keep in mind that English is not my first language. Sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Warnings: Strictly 18+, I don’t want minors interacting with this piece of writing. Implied smut, smoking, cursing, past child abuse, emotional abuse and domestic violence. Neil Hargrove uses the words "whore" and "faggot".

Masterlist is here! The sequel, Fear and Loathing, is here!

PLEASE, CONSIDER REBLOGGING THIS AND/OR GIVING ME FEEDBACK, I WOULD APPRECIATE IT A LOT!

Billy Hargrove’s bedroom atmosphere was damp, thick, and hazy. Your naked bodies bore a thin layer of sweat, your legs were entangled with one another, and your lips hungrily kissed. The cum-filled knotted condom, as clothes and shoes, rested nearby on the beige carpet. A Metallica song played distantly. The sound was distant and muffled as though the radio had been lost in another dimension, and your ears registered not the song, but the obscene friction between saliva-smeared lips, the accelerated respiratory rate and the breathy grunts. Billy’s fingers kneaded your body as though your skin was a bread dough. As though you were an object he carelessly used to nonchalantly discard after pleasure invaded his vessels.

A cigarette.

Smashed under his boot.

“B-Billy, it hurts.”

Billy grunted, perhaps annoyed that you talked, but his fingers temporarily eased their activity. His lips left yours to explore your jawline. Their unhurried movement from your chin to your ear ignited a tingle, which sparked from your nape and descended to your pelvis. It swiftly buckled against Billy’s. “Oh, yes.”

“Does it feel good?” Billy whispered on your right ear. His lips cockily grinned against your skin, and his right hand squeezed your waist. Your answer was merely physical. Your right knee buckled between his legs, your lower back arched against his torso and your left hand pulled at his blonde strands of hair.

“Oh, it does,” he hummed in a low-pitched voice. You gulped. “It fucking does.”

Billy’s lips left your jawline and traced the muscles of your neck, which gleefully spasmed at the stimuli. Your eyes studied his features as the saliva trail descended towards your collarbones. The yellow lamp by the bed dimly illuminated your surroundings, but it beautifully drew patterns of light and shadow upon the right side of his features, which allowed you to admire the muscles of his face contracting and relaxing. Your fingers featherily traced them, and Billy involuntarily sighed at the gesture. Kind, comforting, caring.

Billy Hargrove could use some loving.

“Billy,” you hoarsely whispered. Your hands delicately framed his face. “Look at me.”

His lips ceased their activity, and you gently pulled his face from your collarbones. His eyes intently stared at yours. A shadow of confusion, perhaps shame for allowing himself to bask in your touch, swiftly crossed them. “What?”

Your lips shyly smiled, and your eyes registered the details of his face. Blonde locks, blue eyes, long lashes, delicate nose, sculpted cheekbones, plump lips, sharp jawline. An angel. Billy Hargrove was an angel. For a millisecond, your surroundings disappeared, and your naked bodies floated in a cloistered yet brittle void in which Billy Hargrove had been stripped from his menacing aura, from his explosive behavior, from his intense anger. He felt vulnerable yet safe. He hadn’t allowed himself to be vulnerable since his father accused him of being a “pussy”. And he hadn’t felt safe since his mother disappeared from his life. Your eyes returned to his. “Nothing.”

An unexpected knock on the door cracked the void and violently pushed you to reality. Your naked bodies collapsed against the mattress, and Billy’s features bore an annoyed frown. The Billy Hargrove frown. Intimidating, contemptuous, churlish. What had he told Max? No knocking. Ever. He abruptly grasped the lit cigarette resting on the ashtray and tapped it once. Cigarette ashes floated from the cigarette lit end to the ashtray, and he took a drag from it. Then, he silently offered it to you. The motion of your right hand towards it answered his question, and he placed the cigarette between your lips.

“Billy?” A quavering feminine voice echoed inside the bedroom and died within the music. Your faces were momentarily engulfed in cigarette smoke. Billy’s eyes traveled to the white bedroom door, and your eyes followed his. What the hell did Susan want?

“Yeah, I’m a little bit busy in here, Susan.”

There. The menacing aura, the explosive behavior, the intense anger. Back.

“Open the door!” A firm masculine voice, then, invaded the bedroom and ringed above the music. “Right now!”

Billy’s features became stony. He pushed himself out of the bed, crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and reached for his underwear, then for his jeans and his scarlet button up shirt. He hurriedly snatched your yellow blouse from the beige carpet and tossed it in your direction. He paced towards the mirror to adjust his hair and his pieces of clothing, and you pulled the crumpled sheet over your bare legs. Then, he paced towards the door with his appearance nearly intact. Your eyes wandered to your bra, then to Billy. He had nearly reached the door. For a millisecond, your mind admired his figure, especially his ass squeezed in the tight jeans. Then, his left hand stretched towards the doorknob, and your engines jolted back to life. Your bra was out of reach on the beige carpet, so you desperately put solely the blouse back on.

Billy wrenched the door open. Your eyes registered an upset red-haired woman, Susan, and a stern brown-haired man. They must be Billy’s parents. In a pathetic attempt to look presentable for them, your fingers absentmindedly pulled at the hem of your yellow blouse to adjust it on your torso. The fact that, one, you lay in his bed under a crumpled sheet and, two, your figure was distinctly disheveled didn’t help at all.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why don’t you tell us?” The stern brown-haired man sarcastically spat at Billy.

“Because I don’t know,” Billy firmly answered.

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263 notes - Posted July 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

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596 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#oh! this is nice!#i was not expecting these numbers!#67 posts created?#that’s a lot for someone who usually stays in their lane #but thank god i started writing again!#year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #nat thinking outloud

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mando-abs · 2 years

Text

Unmet Needs and Sweet Dreams

A Din Djarin x f!Reader One-Shot

General Masterlist | Taglist

Rating/Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, smut, phone talk, masturbation (male), thigh riding, dub!con just in case (reader is tired), maybe sub!din??

WC: 1.9k

Summary: Din's on a long bounty hunt. The two of you long for his safe return and each other's embraces. The longing only grows, especially for Din.

A/N: Let's just agree for this fic that Din has already revealed his face to you. Sorry if it's rushed at the end. This also isn't heavily edited, sorry not sorry.

On the nights Din is out for a hunt, you always make sure to keep your comm lying next to you. Sure, it’s there for emergencies, but what you really look forward to is the chance Din will give his brief reports on his longer missions. He says he only does them to keep your nerves at bay, but you suspect it’s just as therapeutic for him as it is for you. It’s kinda sweet really. He doesn’t have to do it. You know what kind of lifestyle you were signing up with when it came to Mando and the kid. In fact, he didn’t do any small broadcasts at first. But the closer the two of you became, these lengthy separations became taxing on all of your mismatched clan.

Of course, he only updated you when it was safe to, usually chiming in at night and when he knows Grogu is asleep. Safe from prying ears as well as safe from your busy schedule with the little one. Din is still very much a private man when it comes to affection, and that extends to his calls. You don’t take it personally. That’s Din. And he always makes up for it tenfold when he’s finally alone with you.

As you snuggle up in your shared cot, trying to match the warmth of when he shares it with you and failing, you can’t help but stare at the comm. It’s been a couple of nights since you’ve heard anything from Din. These past nights you’ve resorted to talking to your comm about your day and what you still need to do as if you pressed speak, as if Din was listening. Before you end your “call,” you say your silent prayer for a safe return to whoever might be listening and fall asleep.

But tonight, before you get the chance to start your pity routine, your comm answers back.

“Hey ner kar’ta. Get into any trouble while I’ve been gone?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion of your calm atmosphere but immediately replace it with a sigh of content. If you had the moment to process your reaction, you would marvel at your comfort in one of the most terrifying timbres of the galaxy. Din may spark fear in his bounties, but all of his vocal edges are removed for the ones he seeks the most. You compose yourself before you playfully snark back.

“Nothing but the regular trouble, I suppose. How about you?”

You hear a faint chuckle on his end. Maker. The gesture alone almost warms your lonely cot.

“Nothing but the regular,” he repeats back to you.

“Good.”

It’s after your initial greetings that the two of you bask in each other’s shared silence. It’s become a sort of love language you share. It’s odd. And yet, it’s home. It’s the willingness to lay bare everything and nothing while needlessly saying I share it all with you. And with a less than verbal lover, it gets practiced more often than not. But on nights like these, it’s surprisingly Din who tends to break the silence, knowing he’ll get to hear more of your voice.

“Those sandwiches you made have been a real lifesaver this trip. I’ve never been more hungry,” he emphasizes the final bit. The dog. You know exactly that he’s trying to get a rise out of you, but you also notice that he’s showing his cards, too, desperate to hear something.

You draw out your words carefully and slowly but continue to avoid drawing any attention to yourself. “Hmmmmmm. Well, I guess for some simple motivation, I was planning on making soup for when you get back but… that was supposed to be a secret… between me and the kid.”

You hear a slight harumph from his side, and you enjoy your tiny reward for winning that round. Din, however, immediately switches his manners toward Grogu as if he hadn’t given him thought. Even though Din always has his concerns for you, he has a special reserve for his son, always looking out for him.

“How is he?”

“Grogu? He’s doing fine, just misses his daddy. He’s been getting a little ancy lately. By the time you come back, I don’t think I’ll be able to get him to bed.”

Din sighs. “Well, the schedule took a detour for a while, but I’ve tried to make up time. I’m sorry I can’t -“

You interrupt his oncoming self-deprecating comments and reel him back in. “Don’t ever feel like you need to rush things, Din. I just need you back safely into these warm arms of mine you tell me you love so much.”

This time the chuckle is clearly audible through the comm, and then his voice gets low. “And when was that?”

You give a big toothy grin and twist your blanket with your fingers. “Ohhh, about around the same night you whispered the same to my thighs.” Now, you were officially pushing it. You can’t beat around the bush forever.

And he gives in, too.

“Have you been touching yourself?”

“No. You?”

“Thought about it. But no. Shit mesh’la, some nights out here… it’s all I can think.”

“And what big thinking does a strong mandalorian like yourself do when a mission cockblocks you? What do you think of me, Din? What do you do to me in your mind?” Your voice trails softer and deeper.

“Shit, if you keep going on like that…”

“Like what?” you ask innocently. “We agreed that if we swore off touching ourselves while you’re away, we would enhance our releases upon your return. I’m only doing what is required, building up that sweet. sweet. pressure.”

You can pick up Din’s breathing on the comm now.

“So tell me Din, what are you gonna do to me when you come home?”

And then he makes a noise you don’t believe you’ve ever roused out of him. It almost comes to a cross between a snarl and a sigh. Whatever he is going through on this hunt, it must’ve driven his emotions up on high.

“As soon as I close the hangar and load the bounty, I’m getting you on all fours in that cozy cot of ours, and I’m gonna rut into that pretty warm pussy of yours until you can only slur my name.”

Damn. That’s rough, even for Din. You don’t even know where that threat begins and where the treat ends. Even in Din’s rough promises, his “threats” are always sweetened like honey to keep his harsh reputation away from his more intimate interactions. What he really means is, I’ll make sweet love to you in multiple rounds but from behind as to make it seem rough. Buckle up.

And it sounds perfect. The exact stress reliever the two of you need after going days without tag teaming your chores. You can already feel the heat lowering to your core just imagining it.

“Come back to me without a scratch and you can do whatever you want to me…I’ll be waiting in the cot. Good luck tomorrow, Din.”

“Vor entye, ner kar’ta. Dream of me.”

When Din finally comes back from his hunt two days later, he groans alongside the janky hydraulics of the hatch closing up. It’s been a long trip, and he knows it’s later than he had previously hoped to return, so the quiet atmosphere throughout the ship is actually a good sign. Din makes silent efforts hoisting the stiff in the carbonite freezer as to not wake the little one up and destroy your unmistakable hard work to putting the gremlin to sleep. He makes a mental note to spend extra time with Grogu in the morning for your sake.

Right now though, all of his focus is on you.

But he’s stinker than a bantha and as hungry as a rancor! So, to prevent any other distractions throughout the night, he beelines to the fresher, strips away armor and any lingering dirty remnants of his hunts, and washes himself down to a speedy science. When he’s finished, he doesn’t even bother putting on clothes.The ground safety protocols are on. It’s not like anyone outside his clan is gonna see him. Before his naked insecurities get the best of him, he locates the leftover “welcome back” soup in the hull and scarfs it down, wiping away whatever drips from his mouth.

Finally.

With a sigh of relief (and a now burning passion deep in his belly), he tiptoes to your quarters where he knows you're waiting. He opens the door, and -

You're asleep.

Your tranquil breaths permeate the small space and ring like a curse into Din’s ear. He knows it’s not your fault. He was out late. And judging by the clean interior and peaceful kid, you’ve worked hard, too.

But dank ferrick did he need some release.

With a change of plans, he slowly straddles himself over your legs, a knee on each side, and carefully closes the door behind him. Thankfully you kept the bunk’s light on so he can study your soft face like an artist’s precision while he strokes himself.

He couldn’t craft this beautiful picture if he tried. You decided before going to bed to wear his used oversized night shirt to keep his scent close to help yourself fall asleep. And nothing else. Din muses to himself how obedient you are, how kind you are, how he never deserves you yet craves you all the same. He gets so close to the edge that it takes your third call of his name to snap out of his daze.

“Din?” You barely ring above a whisper, sleep still keeping its tight hold on you. Your vision is still a bit blurry as your eyebrows knit together.

He slows down even as it pains him to do so, not wanting to jostle you any further. “Mesh’la,” Din rasps. “I’m sorry, I - couldn’t - I didn’t mean to -”

“‘s m’kay.” You rub an eye and slowly but surely smooth his leg. “You’re back and that’s all that -”. You yawn.

“Go back to sleep ner kar’ta.” Din gently trails your face.

“No. I shh wanna help.”

“You can help me in the morning. Now, go back to sleep.”

You frown. “Nah we’ve waited long, use ma thigh beaut-ful boy.” You close your eyes and smuggly grin at him as you burrow the side of your head back into the pillow.

Din stares at your unwavering expression for a few beats, just letting both of your breaths mingle in the silence before making any moves toward your thigh. As he lowers himself closer on top of you, he reaches out for your hand. It isn’t until you squeeze back when he starts to move.

Din groans. “I’ve missed this warmth. Missed you.”

You still keep your eyes closed, the weight of your lids still being too much to bear. You reply softly. “Missed you, too.”

“At sunrise,” Din pauses as his tip glides perfectly over the velvety skin of your thigh, “I’m fucking you just - just how you like it.”

You giggle. “Can’t wait.”

Din skips the niceties and focuses on catching up with his high he’d set before. He braces the wall of the bunk with his other hand as he frantically thrusts his cock against your thigh. Even in your sleepy state, you can feel just when you need to speak to send him over the edge.

“Din, come for me, sweet boy.”

Almost instantly, he empties at the confidence in your hushed voice, coating your belly and whatever dry patches of thigh remain with his spend. And like the flip of a switch of his release, his exhaustion finally caught up with himself. Din collapses into your chest and wraps his arms around you, his home. He figures in his final streams of consciousness he’ll clean up after your proper reunion later. He whispers into your skin his send off.

“Goodnight, Din.”

Taglist:

@honestly-shite @moodsare @mindidjarin @samanthacookieone @paintlavillered @mswarriorbabe80 @tiredbeebo @beskarprincessjenny @momc95

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x reader #my writing.#my work.#din djarin smut #din djarin x f!reader

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toomanyrobins · 3 years

Text

a little birdie told me pt. 7

Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader

Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, cursing, mentions of forced marriage

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: thank you to @firefly-graphics for the team cap divider! Makes my life much easier! 💛

Series masterlist // next part

The next morning, Steve heard someone clearing their throat. He opened his eyes to see a familiar face standing at the foot of his bed with his arms crossed. “Peter, what the hell are you doing?”

“What the hell am I doing! What the hell are you doing? Why is my sister in your bed?”

Steve looked down and saw Y/N burrowed under the sheets. He knew she hadn’t been sleeping well and hated to wake her up. “Let’s go talk in the kitchen.” he put on the coffee maker before turning back to his fuming friend, “Birdie stayed over last night after I had to rush home because Jaime was sick. She stayed to help with him and we fell asleep.”

The tension started to leave Peter, “Oh, is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Look, I get that you’re especially overprotective since Y/N came home but if she had woken up first and saw you, she would’ve been pissed. We are both adults and don’t deserve to be treated like criminals for what we decide to do.”

“You’re talking like something might happen.”

“Do you want to hear it?” Peter nodded, “Yes, I like your sister. She’s amazing and I enjoy every second I spend with her. I don’t care about her past and I hope she doesn’t care about mine. We both have made choices and we live with the consequences.”

“You like my sister...how long?”

“I don’t know. She used to just be your sister, the other half to the problematic duo that was her and Becca. Since she’s been back, something has changed.”

“Is this your savior complex?” Peter scoffed at the scandalized look on Steve’s face, “Don’t look like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Before I grew up, I was as strong as a limp noodle, and you and Bucky were always there to pull someone off of me. I just want to be sure you actually want Y/N because she’s Y/N and not because you think she needs saving."

“This isn't like you picking fights with guys double your size. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Parker. But whatever relationship I choose to have will be between us and I hope you can understand that. Because I won’t be the one to make her choose.”

“I hate you a little bit for this,” he ran a hand through his already unruly hair, “I kind of want to punch you.”

“Well Bucky punched Sam when he proposed to Becca. If I get that far, you can punch me.”

“Fine,” Peter took the cup of coffee Steve gave him. “So, when are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I’m scared she’ll say she’s not interested.”

“Well, I’d do it fast, before someone else notices how great she is.”

The duo decided to switch over to discussing some business, until they heard some noise coming from the baby monitor. Peter knew he should leave Y/N woke and made a quick escape. Steve walked back into his room, opened the curtains, and put a cup of coffee on the bedside table closest to Y/N. He peeled the blankets back and shook her softly. The only response he got was a grumble and her burying her face in the pillow. He decided to grab Jamie and let her slowly start to wake up. The baby at least was happy to see him that morning and kept saying dada over and over again. Steve brought Jamie into his room like he did every morning and put him on the bed next to Y/N. He immediately started to climb on top of her, wanting attention. “Sweetheart, you have to wake up. We have a visitor.”

“What?” The throaty morning voice that she spoke with sent shivers down Steve’s spine. She slowly sat up and kissed Jamie.

He handed her the mug. “A guy could get used to mornings like this: coffee, baby, and a pretty girl.”

Her face grew warm, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crash so hard.”

“No need to apologize. We were all tired. Drink your coffee and I’ll drop you off on my way to the Ivory.” The trio moved slowly, enjoying the lazy morning. It hit Steve how comfortable and easy this morning was and that he wanted this to happen again. Their eyes connected in the mirror and she smiled at him. He spun around, “Would you be my date to the holiday party?”

“You want me to be your date?” Steve nodded and she bit her lip, “Yeah, I’d really like that, Stevie.”

He groaned, “What have I said about calling me that?”

“Follow through and I’ll stop.” He chuckled at her cheeky response and finished getting ready. They managed to get out the door on time and while she was bent over buckling Jamie in, she felt a sting on her ass. She whirled around, shock painted her face, “Did you just spank me?”

“You told me to follow through. I’m just doing what I’m told.” Steve walked to the driver’s side, leaving Y/N standing beside the car, a smile on her face.

A week later, Y/N walked into Steve’s apartment, garment bag draped over her arm, make up and hair already done. They had agreed that she would come over to help with Jamie and they would finish getting ready together. All of them would be spending the night in rooms at the Ivory since this party was known to get rowdy. She was glad to see that their overnight bags were packed for the night and she put hers down as she called out for him. “I’m in the bedroom!” She found him standing in the center of the room in just his trousers and unbuttoned dress shirt. He had a look of deep concentration, his tongue peaking out between his lips as he struggled with his shirt. Y/N laid her dress on the bed before Steve threw his hands up, “Can you help me with these damned cufflinks?”

She laughed at his struggle, laying her things on his bed and taking his sleeve in her hands. “I can’t believe you still are wearing these things.” They had been a gag gift from her their first Christmas after he became her guard. She had bought him Tweety Bird cufflinks and told him that he would always have a little birdie with him even if she ran away from him. She switched arms, “How did you get anything done before me, Rogers?”

Steve looked down at her, “I’m not quite sure, Birdie.” She stepped closer to him and started doing up the buttons of his shirt like it was a common practice between them. He held his breath, worried that the intimate moment would end if he made any quick movements. When she reached the top, she smoothed his collar down, her fingertips grazing his neck. She put her hands on his chest and smiled up at him, “There. Now I’m sure you’re capable of tucking your own shirt in. Yes?”

He simply nodded, worried at what pitch his voice would come out. Y/N grabbed her dress and walked into the en-suite bathroom to change. Steve took a deep breath, his skin burning where her fingers had brushed. He walked into his closet, trying to decide on which tie to wear. His decision making was interrupted by his name being called again, “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Could you zip me up? I can’t get it.” Steve cursed up his breath, this girl was going to be the death of him. He walked into the bathroom and got the first look at the dress Y/N had been hiding from him. She spun around, letting the skirt swirl, “Worth the wait?”

“You look gorgeous.” Y/N blushed at his compliment and turned around so that he could zip her up. He purposefully took his time, dragging his finger along her back even after he reached the top of the zipper. When he reached the base of her neck, he left a lingering kiss where his hand stopped and walked out without another word. She let forehead come to rest against the cool countertop as she tried to get her hormones under control. The two of them had been playing this cat-and-mouse game for too long and it was leaving the both of them incredibly sexually frustrated.

Y/N had picked Steve’s tie to match her dress, ignoring his smirk when she chose it. He put everything in the car and the trio drove over to the Ivory. Steve’s hand found its way to rest on her thigh as she sang along loudly to the Christmas music on the radio. They handed the keys to the valet and made their way up to their adjoining rooms. Steve and Y/N quickly dressed Jamie up in his little suit that was too almost too cute to handle. She pulled on her heels and straightened his tie before they made their way down to the ballroom and marveled at the expert work that had been done. Tony and Pepper had decided on a White Christmas theme and the decorations were done to recreate the final scene of the movie. Giant trees were in every corner of the room and garland was strung across the room. An orchestra in the corner was playing music and everyone was in their finest outfits. They greeted their families and everyone was passing around well-wishes. They were complimented on what a striking pair they made and She tried to hide how flustered she was by Steve’s hand coming around to her waist and pull her closer.

Suddenly, Y/N heard her name being called. She spun around and groaned when she realized it was Alice Jones calling for her. That bitch had made her life hell in high school and the last thing she wanted to do was make small talk with her gang of women. She threw her shoulders back, plastered a fake smile and made her way over. Alice greeted her with a kiss of both cheeks, making Y/N roll her eyes internally. All of the women greeted her like they were old friends.

It did not take long for each woman to be trying to up the other of how great their lives were. Thousands of dollars worth of jewelry was flashed as they bragged about their husbands and fiances. Suddenly all of the women were looking past Y/N and fixing their appearances. She looked over her shoulder, confused, and realized that Steve was coming their way. He nodded quickly at the women before turning to Y/N, “Could you take Jamie for me? I need to discuss some things and his cuteness is a distraction.”

“Of course. Give me my little man,” she made grabby hands and Steve handed the baby over, who was all too happy to be with her. He babbled away as he played with her necklace.

The blonde gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for this. I shouldn’t be too long.”

When Y/N turned back to the group, they were all looking at her like she had grown another head. She laughed awkwardly as they bombarded her with questions. She tried to answer them gracefully and without giving away any actual information. No one but she and Steve were entitled to know what they were to each other and if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t even sure where they stood. They had become incredibly close since she had been back, even more than before and it seemed that they were both waiting for something to push them over the edge and it never seemed to come.

She let her eyes roam over the ballroom. Indy and Peter were off to one side looking like they were discussing something serious as she tried to get him to put down his drink. George and Tony were off to the side speaking with the latter’s old friend, Colonel Rhodes. She watched Steve shake a man’s hand and then walk over to the bar and start talking to Bucky. Alice placed a hand on Y/N’s bare arm, drawing her attention back, “Well we are so glad to see that you’ve finally settled down,” The group of women tittered away, “I mean I remember in high school how all over the place you were. A nightmare! You’ll have to tell us how little old you managed to snag Steve Rogers.”

Y/N smiled at Alice, “Well I suppose I was a bit all over the place. Not all of us can spend so much of our time in one place on our knees. If you ladies will excuse me.” She quickly made her escape and headed towards the bar. Y/N’s attention was drawn away by Steve and Bucky, who quickly traded her a drink for Jamie when he saw the stormy expression on her face. “What a loathsome bitch.” Steve snickered at the disdain in her voice and looked over to see that the group of women was watching them. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, partially shielding her from their gaze. He was sure it looked like he was whispering dirty secrets to her and it wouldn’t take much for him to start. They had been swirling through his head all night. “You’re an amazing woman. Don’t let them get to you.” Her grip slowly relaxed on the champagne flute and Steve nodded as he ran his fingers along her spine, “Good girl.” Y/N tried to hide the fact that the praise from him had any affect on her, but he knew her and noticed the slight shiver that ran down her back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@founding-fuck-bois

@animegirlgeeky

@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

@directorsnarrative

@marvelofwitch

#avengers au #avengers imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #mafia!avengers #mafia au #mafia!steve #mob!au #mob!avengers #mob!steve #steve rogers #steve rogers au #toomanyrobins #avengers #avengers x reader #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #mafia!steve rogers

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clanoffetts · 3 years

Text

Tales From Bespin, Vol. II: A Surprise

Lando Calrissian x Reader

Warnings: porn with a smidge of plot (18+); anal play, butt plugs, lando is an extravagant bisexual who loves fashion; talk of a threesome (boba where you at); pet names; oh and huge mirrors to watch yourself get fucked

word count: 3k

this takes place a few weeks after Vol. I ! you can find that here!

A 3PO droid knocked on your door late in the night. You wore a short shimmersilk nightgown in lilac when you answered the door. “Master Lando wishes to see you,” the silver droid says.

“It’s almost 1300 hours,” you start to protest, but you don’t know why. It’s not the droid’s fault. “Where is he?”

“His rooms, mistress,” the droid says and bobbles away, pleased with their work. You allow the door to shut, retreating back into the room and into the closet to locate the matching slippers and robe Lando had gifted you. Finally, when the set was complete, you began your walk to his room.

The white halls were bare, and shone in the faint light of elaborate candledroids floating around. You felt like a princess in one of the holos, dressed in shimmersilk from head to toe that glows in the soft light. You preferred the halls like this, not many people wondering and the harsh bright lights turned off. Lando must’ve ordered everyone out for tonight, usually the halls bustled and the sounds of sabacc games echoing through the halls. Those sounds had been absent for a few hours, but you hadn’t ventured back out of your room. Lando is a people person and you knew that, but he knew you were not. You needed your quiet alone time, and he left you to it.

You approached the large door that led to Lando Calrissian’s private sanctuary, but he opened it before you had the chance to talk. “Been missing you tonight,” he murmurs as he takes your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“Just needed to be alone for a bit,” you say as he lets you in and shuts the door. “There’s always so many people here.”

He pulls you into a hug, “I know,” he says. “Not tonight, though.”

“No, not tonight,” you agree. “But why is that?”

He let you go, but kept your hand in his. “Tonight’s for us,” he says. “I ordered us something. Well, mainly you.” He leads you through the sitting room into the bedroom. A few things have changed since last night, when you and Lando had your fun and you stayed the night. His bed was starting to become yours, too.

There was not only a mirror above the bed now, but in front of it. The one at the foot of the bed had a tapestry that could be pulled down in front of it. And there was a fairly large wooden box on the foot of the bed.

“Your surprise, pretty girl,” he says, gesturing to the box. You look at him, studying the mischief in his eyes. “Go on,” he encourages.

You step up to the end of the bed, looking at the box. It was gorgeous dark wood, probably the same wood from Kashyyk. The lock on the front was gold, the gold key hanging from it. “Lando this is gorgeous,” you say, running your hand over the polished wood.

“Wait until you see what’s inside,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Come on, gorgeous, I’m dying over here.”

You roll your eyes at him before turning back to the box. You turn the key and open the lid. “Lando…” you breathe. Sitting before you on a bed of velvet is probably twenty butt plugs, every color of the rainbow in every size. You marveled at them, but mainly the ones in the very back row. There’s no way those would fit, right?

“Do you like it?” He asks, stepping up behind you, looking down over your shoulder at the box. “And don’t feel like we have to use these. I just thought since you’ve mentioned you’d never done anal, and I saw that you’d looked on the ‘Net at some with jewels and I know it’s a bit excessive-”

“Lando,” you cut him off, “This is amazing, thank you…did I really leave that tab open?”

He lets out a laugh and kisses your temple. “You’re not the best with the new datapads, love.” He runs his hands up your sides before letting one stray to the box, running his hands over the small plug with the light purple stone.

“We’d have to start small, of course,” he whispers in your ear. “And if you like it,” he presses a kiss behind your ear. “We’ll work our way up, hm? One day, you might even take this one,” his hand brushes over one of the largest plugs. “And then, you could take my cock.”

“Maker, Lando,” you sigh, melting back into him as he runs his hands all over you. “We’re trying it tonight, right?”

He chuckles, “If that’s what you want, beautiful.” He picks up the small light purple plug. “This one matches our clothes, darling.” That’s when you notice he is also clad in lilac shimmersilk pajamas.

“It’s pretty,” you say as he holds it out for you to examine. “Seems really small.”

“Won’t feel small, not at first,” he says. “Trust me, I would know.” He wiggles his eyebrows again. There are still many facets of Lando to explore. “You want to try?”

“Please,” you say. “Please, Lando.”

“Well since you ask so politely…” he says. “I love those pretty pajamas on you, darling, but I think you should take them off. And get on the bed, love, I’ll get the lube.”

You obey, stripping off the shimmersilk into a puddle on the floor. Goosebumps arose on your arms, the cool air of the room finally hitting your bare skin. You grabbed the box of plugs and moved it to an ottoman. Lando was somewhere in the room, opening a drawer to pull out a bottle of lube as you climbed up on the bed, unsure of what to do with yourself.

“Look at you, darling,” he says, stalking towards the bed in the lilac pajamas and a long, matching robe. He was gorgeous. “So pretty, like a princess all sprawled out on my bed.”

He rubs a hand across your stomach, over your hips and up your chest, taking your breast in hand. “So, so pretty,” he murmurs, tweaking your nipple and moving to the other. He brought his mouth down, sucking a mark between your breasts before moving to suck on a nipple. When his teeth come out, nibbling on the sensitive skin, you gasp. “Love your pretty noises,” he says, lifting his mouth to your other nipple and repeating.

His hand drops the plug on the bed and snakes down between your legs, gently nudging them apart. His deft fingers find your clit with ease, applying soft pressure. “Maker, Lando,” you breathe out.

He pulls off your chest with a pop, and picks the plug back up. “What do you want to do first?” He’s running the plug around your stomach, up over your tits, the cold metal making your nipples impossibly harder. “You want to come and then get the plug or vice versa?”

The anxiety and excitement whirled around in your belly, excited to know what it feels like to feel more full and anxious about the pain you’ve heard so much about. “Plug first,” you whisper. And then louder, “Plug first, please.”

“Alright, pretty girl,” he coos. “Hands and knees for me. Show me that ass, gorgeous.”

You oblige, rolling onto your stomach and pushing yourself up onto your hands and knees, feeling like you were in a Gatalentan yoga class. You feel exposed like this, ass up in the air, legs spread enough that your cunt is bared to the cool air of the room. And on top of it all, you can feel Lando just staring, and when you look over at him he doesn’t even notice. His eyes are trained on your ass as he turns the plug over and over in his hands.

To bring Lando out of his trance, you wiggle your ass. It works. “Eager, are we?” He moves closer to you, a hand splayed over one of your ass cheeks, pulling it to the side. “Look at this tiny little hole,” he coos. “So kriffing tight, pretty girl. But I think you should turn around, face the mirror, darling.”

Heat rises into your cheeks as you turn around, and see your body in the huge mirror. You grow even warmer when Lando pushes you down onto your forearms, and you see yourself presented to him in the mirror. He sits back on his haunches behind you, rubbing your lower back. “Look at yourself, gorgeous,” he says. “So pretty.”

As you stare into the mirror at Lando, you see him open the bottle of lube, squeezing some onto his fingers. “Gonna spread this around your hole, pretty girl,” he says. “Is that ok?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.” Lando likes manners.

He smiles at you in the mirror. The lube being spread on your asshole is a new sensation, heightened by the man who is doing it and the knowledge of what he will do next. “Maker,” he says. “Do you want me to put a finger inside you, gorgeous?”

“Maker, please, Lando,” you whine, anxious for the experience and any touch that will bring you some kind of release.

“Alright, darling,” he pushes against the tight hole with his pointer finger, gently nudging you open little by little. “Atta girl,” he praises. “You’ve got one finger in your ass, pretty girl. Feel ok?”

You nod and whine, the stretch reminiscent of his cock in your cunt, but oh so deliciously different. “Kriff, I think I get the hype,” you laugh. “It feels good.”

“Can I move my finger?” You whine, wiggling back against him. “Need you to say it, beautiful.”

“Yes, Maker, fuck me with your finger,” you whine, growing more needy with every second.

With a groan, he slowly dragged his finger out of you, and then pushed it back in, stretching you. “Wish you could see this,” he says. “Kriffing gorgeous, stretching around my finger. Can’t imagine what it’ll be like to see you stretched over my cock. Or gripping onto these plugs.”

You try to say something witty, but it’s no use as he wiggles his finger inside of you. “Could…could you add another finger?”

“Another one, dear? You sure?”

“M’sure,” you say, finding yourself addicted to the slight pain of the stretch that had disappeared as you got used to the one finger. “Want more.”

“And who am I to deny you?” His touch disappears for a moment, but when it returns, he’s pressing two fingers against your ass hole. The two fingers slip in with some ease, and he surprises you by scissoring the fingers inside of you.

“Fuck!” The sensation is new and the stretch hurts so good. Lando laughs a little, continuing to stretch out even more. “Lando, baby, please,” you whine.

“So pretty with your manners,” he says. “But ‘please’ doesn’t mean anything if you don’t tell me what you want.” He’s stopped scissoring his fingers and has returned to the slow paced finger fucking.

“I want to come,” you say. “But this isn’t enough.”

He tuts. “This isn’t enough, darling? What do you need to come, then?”

The feeling of his fingers in your ass has your mind clouded, and you whine out, “Cock.”

“Cock? Just cock?” he mocks. “I can go grab one of the gambling scumbags from a club if you just want cock.”

You huff in frustration at his intentional misunderstanding. “Your cock, Lando, yours, I need yours to come,” you babble.

“You want me to plug your ass and fuck your cunt, gorgeous?” His fingers haven’t slowed, not even a stutter in his pace when you beg.

You look up and make eye contact with Lando in the mirror. “Please!”

His fingers abruptly pull out of your ass and you whine. “Shh, darling, you can survive a few seconds of not being stuffed,” you see the lube bottle again as he squeezes some onto the plug. “In fact, I’m not sure that you know what stuffed really feels like, pretty girl.”

You feel the plug against your ass hole, watching him in the mirror as he focuses on your ass. The plug slowly pushes in, and your breath hitches as the stretch returns. Your core is aching for him to be inside your pussy, but all you can focus on right now is the coolness of the metal being warmed inside you.

“Pretty girl,” he sighs. “Gorgeous. I think I bought enough for you to match your outfits with a plug. Or, better yet, match my outfits. Would you like that? Come in here every morning when I get dressed and let me plug you up?”

“Maker, yes, Lando, whatever you want,” you rush out. “Please fuck me, Lando, please, sir.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Sir? That’s new. I like it, though,” he says. “You want my cock so bad you call me sir. So perfect for me.” He runs a finger over your slit, and then moves to grip your hips. “Are you ready to be full?”

“Yes,” you plead. “Please, please.”

And he obliges. The head of his cock is resting against your cunt, and then pushing inside. The stretch of your pussy adds to the intensity and you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head. As he bottoms out, he groans, and you release a guttural moan from deep inside you.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, “That’s what full feels like.” You try to babble something back, but no words come, just moans. “I think this is the first time I’ve made you cock dumb, pretty girl,” he says. “And out of the pretty things in this room, I think you, cock dumb, is the prettiest.” Your mouth hangs open as he starts to fuck you, occasionally pressing on the jewel of the butt plug or smacking your ass.

He leans down again, and puts two fingers in your mouth. “Suck on these like I taught you to suck on my cock, gorgeous.” And you do, you suck hard on his fingers, as your holes clench around him and the toy, trying to murmur out I’m going to come but you can’t, and you know Lando will realize, so you let yourself go.

“Coming, pretty girl?” You hum. “Good girl, clenching around me, so pretty,” he says. You’re groaning around his fingers, the only thing keeping you from waking up all of Cloud City with your moans. “Gonna make me come, gorgeous.”

Those words, and the erratic pace now set by his hips as he loses control, pushes you over the edge again, with no time to catch your breath.

As Lando fucks himself, and you, through his high, he groans out, “Again? Kriffing again? What a dream.”

Lando’s hips slow as your breathing returns to normal. You’re both fucked out, bodies tired from the strain of pleasure, and he pulls out gently. “Need to wait a second to take the plug out,” he says, pressing a line of kisses up your spine. “Muscles need to relax a little,” he explains, replacing his lips with his hands, massaging your back. “I’m going to go get a towel, ok? I’ve made a bit of a mess of you.”

“A bit?” you joke. You can feel his cum, and probably some of yours, too, dripping down your thighs.

When he returns, you’re flat on your stomach, spread eagle on the bed, eyelids drooping. Lando climbs onto the bed with the towel, and situates himself back between your legs. The towel is rough against your sensitive folds, but you’re almost too tired to react. Your cunt clenches when the towel makes contact with your clit, and Lando chuckles quietly.

“What’s so funny?”

“When you clench, the plug moves,” he says, tossing the towel off the bed. “You’re all cleaned up, pretty girl. Are you ready to take the plug out?”

“Yeah,” you say, sleepiness dripping in your voice.

Lando’s large hands are on the backs of your thighs, squeezing gently. “Can you get back on your knees, dear? Might be easier that way.”

“Don’t wanna,” you whine. “But I can.” You push yourself up again, onto your forearms and knees, with what felt like max effort.

“Good girl,” he praises, and you feel his fingers grip the jewel on the end of the plug. “Ready?” “Yes,” you sigh, and his fingers begin to ease the plug out. Lando gently twists and pulls, apologizing when you clench. Finally the plug slips out, and Lando moves it to the nightstand.

“Come on, darling,” he says, easing you up onto your knees and then back onto your ass. “You’re tired.” He pulls you back against the pillows, and resting on his chest. He’s still wearing the pajamas, never having discarded the shirt, and slipped the pants back on when he got up to retrieve the towel. The silk is soft and cool, and you can hear Lando’s heartbeat against your ear.

“How was it?” He asks, rubbing circles on your back.

“Do you really have to ask?” The both of you laugh. “Though, maybe sometime I could have...something else to suck on.”

“Something else? What, another cock?”

You nod. “If you’re ok with that, of course. Only if you’re ok with it.”

“Oh, I’m more than ok with it,” he says. “Then you’d really know what it’s like to be stuffed. All three holes.” His voice sounds like he’s witnessing angels.

“I don’t know with who,” you say. “Wouldn’t really like to know them too well, I feel like that’d be awkward. Maybe not someone who is here often either-”

“Darling,” he cuts you off. “We can figure that out another time. You need to sleep. After all, you’ll have to get up early if I’m going to coordinate your plug to my cape.”

“We are going to be the most fashion forward couple in the galaxy,” you joke.

He winks, “You know it. Now go to sleep, darling.” He presses a button on the nightstand and the lights slowly dim to black, just as your eyes close and you drift off into sleep.

paging: @hansonveggieclub @delusionsxfgrandeur @fuckyeahbeskar

#lando calrissian #lando calrissian smut #lando calrissian x reader #tales from bespin

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 4 years

Text

On The Off Chance (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader) *PATERNAL

Characters: Tony Stark X Fem!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers, Iron Man

Warnings: Mention of spitting in a drink and some threats of violence, and mention of violence

Tony stark parental figure with "i know you're joking but on the off chance you aren't, no"

You had gained the nickname as Tony’s little trouble maker, and it was something you wore rather proudly. You started off with an apprenticeship working for Tony, usually working nearby to Happy, though even he sometimes couldn’t handle you, and so it was left to Tony to deal with your mischief.

You’d improved over the years, mostly with the type of trouble you found yourself in. When you first met Tony, you were a teenager who had decked a journalist who was asking condescending and cruel questions. The best part was that it was a private meeting between Tony and the press, so how you got in there was still a mystery. However Tony quickly swooped in, making sure you didn’t get in trouble and got you an apprenticeship. You usually got the jobs with Happy, which sometimes meant intimidating people to keep them away from Tony, and you did that pretty well with comments such as “How much do you value your kneecaps?” and “nice jugular you’ve got there.” Though you also go in trouble when people don't stand down to your threats and target them for pranks later, including pouring water on the ceo of a rival company from the second story balcony and ‘accidentally’ spilling wine down the dress of a woman who insulted Pepper while Tony was absent.

Your pranks and mischief had become less violent and more of an annoyance and frustrating for your targets. You’d grown older, wiser, and smarter, and knew how to get away with a lot more. You were now sort of Tony’s assistant, and everyone knew you were a troublemaker, and that Tony would cover for you no matter what. You had a new technique of dealing with someone or a group who were problematic, and it was intricate and detailed, sometimes taking months for the whole thing to be done, meaning months of hell for your targets. It was no surprise that some of the Avengers were slightly scared to get on your bad side, though they quickly softened up when they realized that Tony wasn’t immune to this torment, when you hid all his snacks after you saw him teasing Bruce and throwing the snacks at Steve and Thor. Sometimes your torments were small like that, but they all remembered the incident when a SHIELD agent belittled you and you spent 3 months documenting every mistake he made and reporting it until he begged you to stop, though Tony, Pepper and Happy all claim that you have done so much worse in the past. Natasha had apparently done some digging and found out what this was, but refused to share her knowledge.

Anytime that Tony wasn’t working with SHIELD, he was working for his own business or at home, and you were usually with him, today being no different. He was sat in his home, going through some documents with you sat opposite him also going through it and arranging it for him peacefully until you found a document. “We have a meeting with that old fart from 3 weeks ago?” You commented. Tony couldn’t help chuckle, remembering that meeting that you attended as well. While you had been quiet the entire meeting, Tony nearly cracked up at your disgusted and silly faces you were pulling behind the man’s back, accompanied with the sweet smile when he spoke to you, only to eyeroll when he turned back to Tony. He was, as you put it, ‘ancient’, and his opinions matched to say the least. Not even Tony liked his little pet names for you, and even asked him to refrain from calling you such names, not that it stopped him. He even had the audacity to say “can the pretty lady get my coffee like a good girl?”. You did, but you took your sweet time and Tony had no doubt that you did something to his drink, but he was too scared to ask. It could be anywhere between spit and toilet water.

“Afraid so. I’m going to decline his offer.”

“Or I could just push him down the stairs for you, it’ll be quicker.”

Tony’s response to your offer was a sigh, followed by the statement “I know you’re joking, but on the off chance you’re not, no.” He didn’t even bother looking up from your work, hearing you giggle. “But I don’t want you there.”

“Why not?” You inquired.

“I didn’t like how he talked to you, and I’m not going to let him talk like that to you again. While I’m dismissing him, I’ll be giving him a bit more than a few harsh words about that.”

“Can I drop proof of his behaviour off to the press?” You asked giddily.

“Sure thing, just wait until I go for the meeting.”

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @klanceiscannon14 @waywardemo @marvelhoeingismyhobby @bellamyblakemorley @abbybills22 @waywardemo @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lena-stan-xavier @lady-of-lies @sebstanismylife @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines

#marvel #Avengers #Iron Man #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x fem!reader #x reader #x fem!reader #reader #fem!reader #oneshot #writing #story writing #ask questions #ask me anything #send me asks #send me anything

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coco96 · 4 years

Text

LDAF - MCU Other

Scott Lang/Antman

Dating Tips (Scott Lang X Reader) Request: Scott Lang being a cute bean and really liking the Reader, he hasn’t been in a relationship in a while and his daughter gives him these typical date-tips (she probably saw these in movies) and Scott actually using them …

Domestic Time (Team Cap X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Civil War Request: ... soft, fluffy, domestic fic with team cap after civil war (Steve, Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Nat, Clint, Vision, Scott) where the reader is a new addition and she’s just making sure that everyone is okay and that what they did was the right thing and that it’ll all work out ...

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Sam Wilson/Falcon

Afterwork Cuddles (Sam Wilson X Reader) Request: … where it’s just them coming back from mission and cuddling on the couch until they fall asleep? And like, SUPER fluffy …

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Sharon Carter/Agent 13

One Big Puppy (Sharon Carter X Fem!Reader) Request: … Sharon (who’s joined the avengers at this point) has a girlfriend who REALLY wants to get a puppy and is high-key short. Sharon low-key wants one too but wants to make sure that they can properly take care of it, so it seems like she doesn’t want one. ...

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Harley Keener

Keeping It Together (Harley Keener X Stark!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers of Endgame, mourning Request: Hi could I request a tony stark x daughter!reader / harley keener x reader , where she has to see her dad die in endgame and how she copes with it after. More so how she doesn’t cope with it. Super angsty and sad?

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Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver

Calm Time (Pietro X Fem!Reader) Requests: ... reader grew up with 3 brothers so she knows how to deal with pietro and he kinda fall in love with her? thank you x

Passing The Test. (Pietro X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Death threats, unplanned pregnancy, minor violence. Request: … reader being Tony´s sister. She dates Pietro for a long time and gets pregnant, and the avengers find out (exept tony) and their reaction, and at the end Tony realize because of her tummy and wants to kill pietro but at the end he is proud …

How Do You Ask? (Pietro X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mention of sex and mild swearing Request: … She is dating Pietro and he wants to take their relationship to the next level (have sex), as she is super nervous go to ask the other older avengers for tips to be more cool when it happens, which lead to the avengers freaking out telling her that she is still too young and confronting Pietro about leaving reader alone …

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Brock Rumlow/Crossbones

Home Early (Rumlow X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Swearing, fighting Request: ... He kept her away from his work in hydra and they don’t even know she exists. But one day while she was supposed to be in school he has the winter soldier at his house between missions. Being the typical teenager she is she just walks in the room and sees them. ...

Being the daughter of Maria Hill and Brock Rumlow would include… Request: Being the daughter of Maria Hill and Rumlow would include ...

Brock Rumlow having a crush on you would include…

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Maria Hill

Being the daughter of Maria Hill and Brock Rumlow would include… Request: Being the daughter of Maria Hill and Rumlow would include ...

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T’Challa/Black Panther

Happy Anniversary (T’Challa X Wife!Reader) Request: Being T'Challa’s princess? …

Being T’Challa and Nakia’s Daughter and Being Best Friends with Bucky and Wanda’s Daughter Would Include…

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Shuri

Sisterly Assistance (Bucky X Male!Reader) Request: ... Reader is older than Shuri but younger than T’Chala… He was taking care of Bucky with Shuri, and developed a crush on the White Wolf… He decides to tell Shuri about it and she plays match maker with them, because she knows that Bucky likes her brother, too…

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Stephen Strange/Dr. Strange

Staying Up (Dr Strange X Fem!Reader) *PLATONIC Request: Dr Strange as a mentor , with an apprentice reader who wants to earn his approval so bad she stays up nights in the libary learning. He realizes this because his cape tries to warm her and vanishes each night to do so?

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Meaningful Talk (MJ X Male!Reader) Warnings: Mention of violence Request: MJ x male reader with them cuddling and having a meaningful talk

Prom Date (MJ X Male!Reader) Request: Could you do a MJ(zendaya) x male reader where she introduces the reader and everyone’s astonished that she’s in a relationship

Mirror Image (MJ X Twin!Reader) Request: … Peter sees MJ’s twin (Y/N) and mistakes her identify and leaves embrasssed after declaring she looks prettier today…After feeling embrasssed he walks into the real MJ and MJ bring the snarky person we love, explains why Peter was distracted and later on Peter realizes she has a twin …

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Vision

Singing and Cooking (Vision X Fem!Reader) Request: ... reader always sings and plays the guitar while Vision is cooking. Sometimes he stares at her because he can’t sort out what he’s feeling. One day she catches him and asks what’s wrong and he kind of confess his love to her? ...

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Nakia

Being T’Challa and Nakia’s Daughter and Being Best Friends with Bucky and Wanda’s Daughter Would Include…

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Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel

Natasha’s Brother (Carol Danvers X Male!Reader) Warnings: Mention of trauma, mild swearing Request: ... reader is Natasha sibling and a formidable fight so Carol likes to spar with the reader and they both spend ours sparring because reader doesn’t fight fair like Carol and it’s always ends up in them with teasing each other before the reader makes a move.

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amandaoftherosemire · 5 years

Text

Bulletproof -- Part Seven

Fandom: Marvel/College AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader, Platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Gamora

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6,357

Format: Series (Complete)

Warnings: Language, angst, sexual themes.

Summary: Gamora gives her opinion on your current plans. You and Bucky get together, just the two of you.

Banner by @hellzzzbelle

Part Six here

Part Seven

Based on the expression on Gamora's face when you entered, the kitchen floor had given you away. You were pretty sure you could have gotten around the rest as needing to wind down from a good night but scrubbing the kitchen floor by hand had been too much. Apparently Gamora thought so, too, as evidenced by her archly raised eyebrow as she lifted her gaze from the book in her lap.

"So," she said calmly, but with a dangerous kind of stillness, "what are you up to now?"

You opened your mouth without a clue as to what was going to come out when your phone vibrated in your hand. Steve:

Don't think for a single second that you're getting out of telling me what you're doing to Bucky. He looked fucking drunk when he walked in.

Your face spread in a pleased and wicked smile despite Gamora’s watchful gaze, but you knew you were going to give in there, at least a little. She was too observant, and you'd been too upset. You shot a quick text back, Sorry, Dad. I have to answer to Mom right now, before putting your phone in your pocket and shooting Gamora a winning smile.

"Funny you should ask," you replied as you walked forward to flop onto the love seat across from Gamora to tell her most of your thought process over the course of last night, this morning, and today.

You were only more certain you wanted to seduce Bucky after the day you'd spent together. You knew it could only be a one-time thing, because even going that far was going to break your heart. But since you also could not spend the rest of your life wondering about all the sparks you and Bucky constantly struck off one another, you were trying to minimize the damage as much as possible.

When you were done, Gamora sat staring at you in utter disbelief. It was an odd thing to see. Gamora had confided a lot about her life before you met her, telling you once that you'd been her first real friend. You knew her childhood had been not only deeply unhappy but also deeply weird. It was rare to surprise her.

"That is, hands down, the worst idea I have ever heard in my entire life."

Your voice was dry as the Sahara. "Come on, G, don’t sugarcoat it. Give it to me straight." You were a little insulted. Considering the things she'd told you about her father, you couldn't help it. The man had some seriously weird ideas and stupendously flawed math.

Gamora scowled and fixed you with her patented don't-fucking-start-with-me look. "You’re going to seduce Bucky." It wasn't a question so much as it was a wondering kind of disbelief. Now you were downright irritated. She only used that tone with Peter Quill and that dude was sometimes unbelievably stupid.

You pushed to your feet to pace, her attitude making you wonder if there was any way to get out of this situation even half alive; you didn't believe for a moment you were getting out of this unscathed. "To get him out of my system, yes." Gamora's expression shifted again, this time to one of exasperated disbelief. Infuriated by her attitude, you sneered. "Look, everybody wins here. He gets to have sex with me, which I know he’s wanted to for years, no strings attached. I get him out of my system, we stay friends, and I get to move on with my life."

Gamora tilted her head to the side, her voice softening. "And what about the fact that you’re in love with him?"

You stopped in your tracks, the quiet question cutting to the heart of everything wrong and yet inescapable about the situation. You carefully cleared your throat to make sure that the despair wasn't blatant in your voice. "What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him."

Gamora had grown up in a house where excellence was expected, and failure was swiftly and brutally punished. She was painfully attuned to the moods and emotions of others. She'd had to be; it was a matter of survival. You didn't fool her for a second. Her voice softened further. "It will hurt you. Why won’t you tell him? He’s as much in love with you."

You stared at Gamora for a moment, unable to answer, your throat locked closed in pain. Gamora was the best of friends. Loyal and quietly kind, she also had an amazing ability to cut to the core of the matter, to find what was important and sweep away the rest. You generally adored that about her.

Right now, however, you couldn't help but resent her a little for forcing you to face the ramifications of what you were doing. You dropped down onto the couch next to her, your eyes dry, but devastated. You'd promised yourself you'd never cry over Bucky Barnes ever again. You didn't intend to break that promise, regardless of how much it hurt. "He doesn’t believe he can be faithful," you replied finally, "and I can’t commit to a man who cheats. It’s as simple as that."

Gamora's surprisingly tender heart ached for you. She could hear the pain in your voice and would do almost anything to help, but she knew she could not save you from yourself. "I swear, it's like banging my head against a brick wall with you. How is anyone this stubborn?"

Your lips twitched, but you kept your expression and tone serious as you answered. "I grew up with Steve Rogers."

Gamora's lips twitched in return and she bobbed her head in a nod of acknowledgement for your point. The moment of levity passed quickly, and worry took over once more. "Please," she implored, setting her book aside and turning toward you on the couch, "since you listened to me about giving him another chance, listen to me again and talk to Bucky. Tell him how you feel."

Your head turned toward her with a grimace masquerading as a smile. "I don’t think I can, but I’ll think about it."

Gamora huffed out a breath and opened her arms. "Come here." Gamora's compassion always hit you harder than anything else, if only because it was so rare for her to let down her guard and show it. With a wry smile that was, if nothing else, a real smile, you scooted in and let her enfold you. Though you felt the sting of tears at the back of your eyes, none even dared approach your eyelids, let alone had the temerity to fall.

Though she was grateful you'd accepted her comfort, the rigidity of your body had Gamora staring with worried eyes over your bowed head.

The following Friday morning, you sat at Steve’s kitchen counter while he made you breakfast, something that had become a routine since you started sitting for his art project. Swinging your legs around the stool you sat on, you bounced in your seat, delighted by Steve's news.

He'd spent most of this morning's sitting telling you all about his last week texting with Peggy, beaming and pink as his pencil flew easily. He was working on your form that morning, so you were allowed to beam back at him. You did so with gusto, delighted that they’d hit it off so well.

Steve was only a passable cook, but he was getting better. He’d almost succeeded at making you an omelet this morning, and when the school year had started he could barely boil pasta. You'd been happy to serve as both his guinea pig and cheerleader as he learned how the kitchen worked, unsurprised when he quickly got the hang of the basics. Steve's old-fashioned manners fooled some people into thinking he was simple, but his demeanor hid an agile and capable brain.

Steve was blushing rosy red as he set cheesy scrambled eggs and toast in front of you. “We’re meeting for drinks tonight,” he said quietly, his face crimson as he turned back to the coffee maker to grab the pot.

You paused in the act of raising a forkful of eggs to your mouth, having dug in immediately, starved and certain Steve had succeeded at making the eggs delicious, regardless of their form. "Really?" Your shoulders dropped and your expression shifted to full 'awwww' mode. Your free hand came up to your mouth so that you could bite your fist and quietly scream.

Steve turned around with a confused, yet amused, expression. He opened his mouth as though he was going to speak, then closed it, breathing out through his nose with an exasperated affection. He took a sip of his coffee while you shoveled in eggs. You'd been right; they were delicious.

"Did you just squee?" he asked finally, the laugh in his voice contagious and making you snicker around a mouthful.

"Yes!" you cried before you'd finished chewing and swallowing, dying with impatience at the delay. Quickly downing what you had in your mouth, you continued. “You guys are adorable.”

Steve groaned in laughing disgust at the sight of you talking with your mouth full. He shook his head at your cheerfully taunting smile as he retorted. “How would you know? You took off after five minutes.”

Demurely, as though you had never been crass in your life, let alone in the last sixty seconds, you patted your lips with your napkin. “I have an active and creative imagination. I can extrapolate with enough data.” At Steve’s snort, you fixed him with a haughty stare and went back to your breakfast, this time delicately to match your demeanor. “And it was more like ten minutes. Where are you guys meeting?”

Steve sipped at coffee and wondered how you could sound like you were interrogating him even as you grinned like a madwoman. "Howlie’s," he answered.

"That’s an okay start," you considered, "but if things are going well after you’ve had a couple drinks, you should ask her to dinner and take her somewhere nicer."

Even as his lips twitched, Steve's eyebrows were lifting at your bossy tone. "What's wrong with Howlie's?"

"Nothing," you shrugged as you bit into your toast, continuing around the bite, "as long as you get there early so she doesn't have to wait for you. It works for casual but it’s kind of a meat market on Fridays."

Steve was about to retort when your last statement struck him. "You may be right. It is one of Bucky's favorite places."

"Exactly my point."

Steve laughed before catching sight of the time. "Shit, I better hit the shower or I'm gonna be late to class." He drank the rest of his coffee down and set the cup in the sink.

"Stop by tonight before you head out. I need to approve your outfit."

Steve stopped on his way out of the kitchen to shoot you an annoyed sneer. "You know, I have been on dates before. I am capable of dressing myself."

You didn't respond, merely fixed him with a blank expression and a slow blink.

Steve snorted and rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll see you later."

A half an hour later, Steve had already bolted, hair still wet and grin flashing. You were finishing your coffee and doing some of your reading on your phone before you headed back to your place when the sound of the apartment door opening startled you. When Bucky walked into the kitchen, following the smell of fresh coffee, you had hidden your pounding heart behind a calm façade, sipping and scrolling.

The sight of you sitting at his counter both thrilled and annoyed Bucky. Thrilled because the sight of you always thrilled him, but annoyed because you were once again wearing that damn robe. He hated that robe, fascinated with what you may or may not have on underneath it and obsessed with why you so often wore it when you and Steve were alone together. "So," he said as he walked to the cupboard over the coffeepot and pulled a cup down, "do you wear clothes when you come over anymore?" He turned to wiggle his eyebrows at you, but irritation rang in his voice. "Not that I’m complaining."

You frowned at him, confused by his changed attitude since you'd last seen him, a long warm smile in the hallway the night before. "Do you ever go to class?" you asked mildly, avoiding the question. You still weren't sure you wanted Bucky to know about the project until it was over.

Bucky scowled into his coffee. He couldn't help but wonder if you were here because he wasn't supposed to be. "It was cancelled; prof's out sick. I hope Steve was a gentleman and made that for you." He nodded toward the demolished eggs and toast on the plate in front of you.

"Well, he owed me." You were considering telling him the truth. You figured no one else would enjoy the story of your and Steve's initial discomfort with your nudity more than Bucky. And you hated keeping secrets, especially now that you and Bucky were reconciling.

Then his lips twisted in what looked like jealousy and you recoiled from the vulnerability. "I bet," he sneered and the mocking eyebrow he lifted in your direction had you baffled. "More coffee?"

Your lip curled in disgust even as you held out your half empty cup. "Don't be gross." You didn't know if Bucky was joking but the implication that Steve had made you breakfast because you fucked him was ruining that breakfast as it sat in your stomach.

Bucky frowned in confusion at you even as he refilled your coffee from the pot. Once more he was lost and unsure how to find his way. Then your face softened with affection and he remembered that he didn't care about anything but having you back, no matter what.

You set down your cup and got to your feet. Without hesitation, you crossed to him and slid your arms around his waist to rest your head on his shoulder. "You're looking sad again, Bucky-bug."

Bucky could not stop himself from wrapping his arms tight around you. He loved the feel of your body against his; he could not deny himself anything you offered freely. His body curved around you, his head bent over yours as he took comfort in the warmth of you. Clearing his throat, he answered flippantly. "I just need a cold beer and a willing woman, sugar." You smiled to yourself and turned your face into his chest, rubbing your nose in the skin at the base of his throat. "Maybe I'll hit Howlie's tonight." Bucky was now having trouble keeping his thoughts straight, the soft feel of your nose and lips against his skin scrambling his brains. With an effort, he dragged back the memory of his damned best friend. "You and Steve have plans?"

"No," you murmured against his skin, your breath raising goosebumps, "Steve's busy tonight. I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet."

Bucky's arms tightened around you reflexively at the thought that he could have you all to himself. "You wanna come with me, be my wingwoman?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of them.

You tilted your head back and smiled sweetly into Bucky's stunned face. "Maybe I will. Shoot me a text before you head out?"

He knew he was playing with fire. He knew he should care. "You got it."

That evening, Bucky mounted the stairs to his apartment with his heart galloping in either anticipation or apprehension. Maybe both. Even as his heart raced, so too did his mind, confusion warring with a newfound freedom. He had you to himself tonight. He wasn't going to waste it.

Steve, apparently, had a date.

Bucky couldn’t figure out how he felt about it. His face and neck felt hot and chills were running up and down his spine. Was this relief? Was this rage?

He'd run into Steve on the street, the other man obviously carefully dressed in tan slacks and a bright blue shirt that you'd given him for Christmas because you said the color would bring out his eyes. You'd been right, but those eyes had also been bright with an excitement Bucky had never seen before. Whoever this girl was, she'd clearly knocked Steve for a loop.

But when he rounded the corner and spotted you sitting on the floor with your back against his door, he knew for certain how he felt. Righteous.

Look at you, he thought, in one of those sundresses you wore that made Bucky grateful for spring every damn year. Your hair was off your neck and your shoulders were bare and all Bucky could think about was pressing his lips to the tempting curve of your collarbone. He knew it was weird, but he'd always thought you had the prettiest shoulders.

How the fuck could Steve look elsewhere when you were right here? You lifted your head from where it rested against the door to lift the bottle that dangled from your fingers to your lips. Your eyes opened and warmed when you spotted him standing at the top of the stairs. Your face shone in a sparkling smile and Bucky decided to hell with Steve. He’d had his chance.

He couldn’t believe his best friend was wearing the shirt YOU gave him to a date with another woman. Bucky was done, wasn’t going to stand aside any longer. If you wanted him, he was yours.

Bucky didn’t know it, but the half-smile lifting that perfectly sculpted cheek was making your underwear damp. So perfectly wicked and astonishing in its ability to communicate, it told you that Bucky was in a reckless mood tonight. You could almost see the heated fantasies in his eyes.

Perfect. You were in an edgy, reckless mood yourself.

"What are you doing out here, babygirl?" The timbre of Bucky's voice took on a whole new tone on the familiar pet name. Hungry and rich with promise, it matched the heat of his eyes as they devoured your neckline, snagging again on the opal you'd put on that night with a wicked smile of your own.

"I'm an idiot." You didn't get to your feet as Bucky approached, but held your hand out for his. He took his cue and helped you to your feet. "I locked myself out of my apartment when I walked down to the store for pre-game beer." You weren't technically lying. You had locked your keys in the apartment. You knew because you'd had your eye on them hanging next to the door when you’d locked and closed it. "I'll give you one if I can come hang out in your place while you get ready."

When Bucky had pulled you to your feet, you'd come face to face and surprisingly close to him. He didn't immediately back off, and the warmth of his body had your skin heating in response. "Of course, you can," he replied as he stepped aside to put his key into the lock at your back. You eased out of the way to follow him in.

Once inside, you set the two six-packs of bottles and your purse on the coffee table and flopped onto the couch with a sigh. "Shit," you laughed. "I didn’t realize how tired I am until I sat down somewhere comfortable."

Bucky had dumped his bag in the corner of the room, determined to ignore everything but you from here until sunup. He snagged a beer and dropped to the couch next to you as he twisted off the top. Laying his head along the back and slumped down, he reminded you so much of when you were younger, when you'd first started to fall in love with him and thought there was a chance. Your heart twisted a little and you wondered if you should listen to Gamora and just talk to Bucky about everything.

Bucky saw the sadness around your eyes and wondered if you knew what kind of plans Steve had tonight. He hated the idea that you might be hurting. Bucky was determined ; if Steve and his mystery lady were going to be at Howlie's, you and Bucky wouldn't be. "Do you want to stay in tonight?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth his stomach tightened in anticipation and forced him to acknowledge that he had an ulterior motive for staying behind closed doors alone with you. So the fuck what? "Watch Disney movies, like old times?"

Your eyes softened and Bucky knew he'd made the right call, regardless of his selfish reasons for doing so. You'd always been the sort that needed quiet time with those you cared about, needed to connect more than a casual breakfast allowed with those that were most important to you. Offering that quiet time was the best thing he could have done to make you happy. "I thought you were after a cold beer and a willing woman," you teased softly.

Bucky grinned. "We have the cold beer." Contrary to what you expected, instead of taking the obvious set up and flirting back, his smile turned sweet. "And why would I settle for someone else when I’ve got my girl?"

You couldn't speak for a moment, because it sounded like Bucky was speaking the absolute truth, that he'd rather be with you than anywhere else. For the first time, against your better judgement, you started to have a little hope. "Lilo and Stitch?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, but affectionately, like he couldn't believe how dumb you were to even ask. "Like we’d start with anything else." You had called Bucky your Stitch for about three months after seeing the movie for the first time and hearing the line, "This is your Badness Level. It's unusually high for someone your size." Bucky leaned away to rummage in the end table next to him. Pulling out a stack of delivery menus, he fanned them out and offered them to you like he expected you to pick a card. "When are you going to be able to get back in?"

You laughed and grabbed for the one with the logo for your favorite pizza place. "Whenever Gamora comes home." You shrugged and gave him a questioning look. You knew he'd never throw you out, which is why you were engaged in the little 'locked-out' deception in the first place, but you figured you'd cover your bases. "Since I thought we were going out, I told her to take her time."

Bucky was relieved. He had you all to himself for hours. He was hoping for a chance to talk to you about everything that had happened. "You're more than welcome to stay as long as you like, doll."

At the pet name you most often heard out of Bucky for women he was hitting on, you lifted an amused brow. "Doll?" You weren't entirely certain what it meant, as you'd always assumed he called women 'doll' when he couldn't remember their name but still wanted in their pants. Your lips twitched and you said exactly what you were thinking. "Are you trying to fuck?"

Bucky's eyes widened. He'd internally cringed the moment the word had left his mouth. He'd never called you 'doll'. But now that he was allowing his thoughts to follow that path, his muscle memory had kicked in and he'd talked to you the way he'd hit on anyone else. Trust you to call him out on it. After a beat of shock, he tossed his head back and roared with laughter.

"For that," you said, as you pulled your phone out of your pocket, "I'm getting olives on the pizza."

Bucky's laughter half-morphed into gagging sounds as you pushed him off the couch with your bare foot.

Two demolished pizzas, most of a bag of mini donuts, Lilo and Stitch, and half of Tangled later, you were laying on the couch with your calves across Bucky's lap. His flesh arm was laying across the back of the couch, but his metal hand was resting on your leg, his thumb tracing dizzying circles into your skin. You could hardly believe how enticing that little motion was, but you were enjoying the slow burn so much you opted not to acknowledge it, wondering. How long could you stand it? How long without a response before he stopped? Did he even notice he was doing it?

You were keeping it light, chatting, joking, riffing on the movie, and it was everything you'd ever wanted. You'd never admit it out loud, but that's all you'd ever really dreamed of, to spend your life with your best friend. Not just the big moments, but the little ones, too. You wanted him for the everyday, the quiet times, the easy evenings at home with an old movie. You shivered and your throat tightened. Your heart aching, but for the first time truly hoping, you opened your mouth to speak.

Bucky noticed the shiver and asked, turning to you with a concerned look. "You want me to close the window?"

Your heart kicked oddly, a mixture of melting and racing and you pushed up into a sitting position but didn't move your legs from his lap. You smiled a little, your eyes soft. "Nah, I like the air."

The expression on your face had Bucky's heart skipping a beat. More than just heat, he realized there was warmth here. Maybe he could be better for you than Steve. Evidently Steve thought someone else could be better for him than you. He was welcome to her. Bucky would do whatever was needed to be the best goddamn consolation prize of all fucking time for you.

"Come here." His voice was gruff and raspy with what sounded like desire, but you thought you heard an undercurrent of bitterness to it. The sound destroyed what little courage you had and closed your voice in your throat.

Bucky pulled you close, wrapping his flesh arm around your bare shoulders and turning to tuck you against his chest. Feeling vulnerable, trying to figure out whether or not you wanted to risk talking to Bucky before you'd had a chance to give him a test drive, you snuggled in and let him warm you. "God, I missed you, babygirl." Bucky's voice was a low rumble, rich with an emotion you weren't sure you could name but sounded painfully familiar.

You didn't realize your voice matched his, as well as the one that whispered in your heart, when you answered. "I missed you, too, Bucky." His breath shuddered out. The sound of your voice had his heart leaping, but he wasn't sure why. He took his courage in both hands and asked the question he needed the answer to more than any other.

"Why did we stop being friends?"

Bucky cursed himself when your body went rigid and you slowly but inexorably pulled out of his arms to lean casually against the arm of the couch. He wanted to hold on, to comfort you until you were soft and relaxed against him once more. Only the look on your face stopped him.

Cold and tight, you answered with a disdainfully lifted brow and a slight sneer. "We're really gonna do this?" Bucky hated the look on your face, reminded of all the times you'd given him that look over the last couple years. Instead of letting you turn him away with the hard-eyed bitch he'd come to realize hid his girl away from him, he took the fidgety hand picking at the hem of your skirt, recognizing the woman he loved there.

You didn't want to think about it, didn't want to let it matter anymore. You tried to hold against the puppy-dog eyes he was giving you and asked a little more harshly than you meant, "Really?" He flinched, so slightly you wouldn't have noticed had you not been searching his face so intently, and you felt like a monster.

You gave in without any further fight, unable to deny him when he looked at you like that. You'd become able to withstand the patented Bucky Barnes puppy look, but you weren't totally immune. "Alright," you said, and Bucky frowned at the defeated warning in your voice. He understood when your lip curled in an expression so shockingly bitter he began to truly comprehend the depths of your anger with him. "Because I spent a week in the hospital, and you didn't even send me a fucking card."

Bucky's jaw dropped. Whatever he had expected, this had not been it. "Steve said you didn't want to see me." He answered without thinking, telling you the absolute truth. He had also been so ashamed of his behavior at the party you'd both been to the night before, where you’d walked in on him and someone else, he had taken the reprieve without complaint. The look of utter disgust in Steve's eyes when he'd coldly informed Bucky that he would not be allowed in to see you under any circumstances did the rest.

"I did not." Your voice was haughty, but he took comfort in the fact that you had not removed your hand from his. He toyed with your fingers, pleased to find them still relaxed as you went on. "I was already a little pissed at you when I woke up and everyone but you was there. Then they finally find you passed out in some bimbo's bed? Call me a drama queen, but I was feeling kind of bitchy."

Bucky opened his mouth to defend himself, but when he considered how he'd have felt had the situation been reversed, he'd have been heartbroken. He understood for the first time that you'd been pissed because he betrayed your friendship, not because he'd slept with someone else. He couldn't defend it. He closed his mouth and dropped his head, ashamed that he'd let you down, angry that he'd been such a coward.

You were a little taken aback to see the immediate understanding swiftly followed by remorse that flickered across Bucky's face. Pain flashed in his eyes as his gaze dropped to your hand where his thumbs were tracing gentle circles over the back. Your heart softened, as did your voice, though the hurt was clear for the first time even as you shrugged. "It's not like I said you were dead to me. I didn't see you for fucking weeks." Finally, you'd voiced the question you'd needed answered for years. Why had it been so fucking easy to push him away?

"Steve wouldn't let me!" It was true. He'd tried and failed at least a dozen times to sneak around your guard to check on you himself. He'd been nearly frantic, needing desperately to see you safe and sound with his own eyes but those who loved you had circled the wagons and didn't give a shit at that time about what he needed. He had been informed that you were okay and recovering and that would have to be enough, already.

Which is why the politely doubtful tone to your voice, rich with mockery and oozing with skepticism, "And you tried extra super hard, I'm sure," fired his temper.

He squeezed your hand, and the seriousness of his demeanor had the mocking sneer you wore fading slowly from your face. "You didn't see him. Even if," Bucky spoke sternly, "and trust me, that's a big if, even if I had gotten through Steve, Gamora and Natasha were right behind him." He scoffed a little. "God himself couldn't have made it through all three of them."

You nodded an acknowledgement of his point. All three had been very protective of you for several months after your little Jameson's adventure. Not only because of what had happened with Bucky, but because of the guy who'd helped you get so inebriated. They'd basically wrapped you in bubble wrap until… "And I tried. I didn't stop trying until I saw you myself."

Until you'd run into Bucky for the first time since you'd walked in on him fucking Gina in the laundry room during the house party where you'd had all the Jameson's. He had been walking up the stairs with some new bimbo under his arm as you'd been walking down. It had been long enough that the memory of his face in that moment was almost comical. You hoped someday it would be.

"And after that?" You turned your head and looked at Bucky for the first time. You saw the memory of that meeting in his eyes, along with pain, shame, remorse. In yours he found coldness harsh enough that his heart went faint at the sight, afraid he'd lost you by not being able to let go of the past, but he saw the hurt beneath the ice. It gave him the courage to answer with the truth.

"Cowardice. Guilt." Bucky lifted your hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the back. "You of all people deserved better from me."

You couldn't speak for a moment, utterly stunned by Bucky's answer. You'd never expected him to so thoroughly validate your hurt and anger. You had no idea how to respond. "I see."

Bucky's eyes lifted to yours and you found in his face so much more than you'd ever thought you'd get out of a conversation like this. Someday, after all of this was behind you and you weren't nursing the inevitable broken heart, you'd tell him that this was the moment you promised yourself you'd never let Bucky out of your life again no matter what it cost you. Then he was speaking again, and your heart was stumbling and hoping again. "It may be too late now, but if I had it to do over again, I’d change almost everything. I’m so sorry, babygirl."

You couldn’t speak, unable to decide exactly what to do or say now that you’d had this conversation. You were paralyzed, unable to let go of either hope or fear, when you saw it.

Bucky was retreating from you. He'd done that a thousand times in the last couple years, but you'd never really recognized it for what it was. He was offering a little of himself and when you didn't respond, he withdrew. His hand relaxed and you understood he was about to drop your hand and pull away. Reflexively, your hand tightened around his. "There’s no such thing as too late for us," you said, and the complete conviction in your tone, the fierceness of your expression had Bucky's smile flashing.

You grinned back and for a moment there was nothing between you, no yesterdays, no tomorrows. Only you and he existed in this endless moment, this singular eternity. You wanted now, and only now, wanted to climb into the moment with Bucky and try to never leave it. You wanted to pretend that you could.

"Tell me something, Bucky-bug," you said, your voice a sultry whisper as you turned toward him, lifting your hand to his shoulder to push him back into the couch. Confused, he didn't resist, but his eyes widened as you threw a leg over his lap and settled kneeling against him. "Is that why you never tried to fuck me? You felt guilty?"

You slid your hands into his hair and Bucky wasn't thinking straight anymore. He put his hands on your thighs, and no matter what his intentions were, as soon as he did his fingers were digging in. "No, I…"

You brought your mouth to within a breath of his. "Or did you not want me?" The pout on your lips and in your voice had Bucky's cock twitching against where you were pressed against him. He was hard as a rock and there was no denying he wanted you now, regardless of whether he had before.

Bucky's hands tightened and he shifted, rubbing against you, making your eyelids flutter. He'd never been so turned on in his life and he hadn't even kissed you yet. "I've always wanted you. I could be dead a year and still want you. The only thing I wouldn’t change was the night I finally got a taste of you. But you deserve more than-" He was babbling and cut off abruptly with a groan when you rocked your hips against him in a slow twist.

"Don't you think I deserve what I want?" You asked the question against his ear, thoroughly enjoying having Bucky at your mercy. You'd never known he'd be this easy, or that it'd be this much fun. He seemed to want you more than anyone ever had in your entire life, to hear him say it, to tell you he'd always wanted you, was intoxicating.

Bucky shuddered at the sensation of your breath on his neck, already drowning in you and cheerfully going under for the third time. His hands had made their way up to your hips and he was turned his face, nuzzling his nose and lips against yours in a way so sweetly seductive, your heart sighed a little even as you trembled with desire. "What do you want, babygirl?" he asked in a voice throbbing with longing, singing with promise.

You pulled back to smile playfully at Bucky, only to feel your heart stumbling again at the look of starstruck wonder on his face. He looked like all his dreams were coming true. You wanted to believe he didn't look at other women like that, but that was why you couldn't. You tucked your heart away, determined to enjoy the next couple of hours to the hilt. You'd already prepared to pay for it.

Your lips curved in the sexiest smile Bucky had ever seen. It was the kind of smile that could lure a sailor to his death, he thought. That smile made the next words out of your mouth the most exciting he'd ever heard. "What do ya got?"

Part Eight here

Taglist:

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #platonic!steve rogers x reader #marvel au #college au #marvel fanfiction #mcu #Bulletproof #pantswrites #angst #mutual pining #series

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itsanerdlife · 5 years

Text

It’s Complicated 2/25

Pairing: Clint Barton x Fisk Niece!Reader

A/N: Reader is Wilson Fisk’s Niece. I’m tired of the same old villains so keep your eyes peeled for who just might be the one lurking in the dark.

Warning: This is very match and lighter fluid type of burn. Feels of abandonment. Talks of Psychopaths. Overprotective male. Lies. Secrets. Language. Kidnapping. Violence. I think that’s about it.

Sometimes in life there are just certain people worth breaking the rules for. No matter the hell that may rain down. Is it possible to fall in love with someone in just a matter of one conversation? To be utterly and completely obsessed with someone in a matter of weeks? But what if they aren’t who you think they are? What if one day the person you love, they just disappear? Learning to live again is a bitch. Specially just when you think you’re doing fine, he shows up on your doorstep. Wanting to explain his secrets. But now you’ve got your own secrets but do you really ever just get over that type of love? Can you really just move on and pretend it never happened? Even when you’re carrying around proof inside you?

Tag List Is Open

You’re closing your mailbox, pulling your key free as Clint comes in. You sift through your mail in hand as you start for the stairs, he falls into step with you. You could feel his eyes bouncing from you to the stairs as the two of you climb them. You press your lips together, trying to not grin.

“Interesting mail?” He chuckles.

“Maybe.” You glance up at him. “Don’t miss a step.” You smirk, he laughs.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks suddenly. This time it’s you who stumbles, but you catch yourself just as quickly.

“What? Tonight?” You blink at him as you reach the landing. He nods, a smile on his lips. “Nothing, documentaries and probably take out.” You admit with a shrug.

“Exciting night.” He nods.

“Could be, if you joined me.” You smirk at him when his brow slams up in surprise at your boldness.

“I’d love too.” He chuckles, nodding.

“Come over about six?” You ask, backing away from him towards your own apartment door.

“I’ll be there.” He smiles.

“Well I’d hope so. You kind of live on the other side of my living room, I would know if you were standing me up.” You laugh softly.

“Good thing that’s not something I would do.” He smirks.

“See you later than.” You grin, turning to unlock your door.

“Yes you will.” He nods, unlocking his own door.

------------

You let out a pent up huff as you thumb out the text to your best friend, MJ. Twenty past six, and Clint still hadn’t shown up. You stare at your front door from your kitchen island where you sat. You’d been so excited and rather thrilled at the idea of getting to know the ridiculously delicious neighbor of yours. You’d spent thirty minutes going back and forth with MJ about whether wearing a dress was assuming too much or trying too hard.

You’d finally settled on black linen shorts with the little draw string waist, and a white tank top. Comfy, and adorable. You’re replying to MJ about what to do, when the knock on your door comes. You sigh, glaring at the door once more. You debate on not answering.

“Y/N?” He calls. “I know you’re home.” You roll your eyes, leaving your phone on the counter. You head for the door, pulling it open, you lean on the frame.

“When I say I’m doing something, I mean it.” You retort.

“I wasn’t standing you up, I swear.” He pleads. You squint at him for a moment. “I was on the phone with my sister. Her and her boyfriend had a disagreement, I ended up on speaker phone and refereeing their fight.” He admits.

“You have a sister?” You watch him.

“Two. Red heads. Both Russian actually.” He nods. Your brow lifts.

“Um.” Your head tips.

“Foster care.” He admits with a small nod. You push the door open, letting him in.

“Okay, I might be the dick tonight.” You admit with a sigh, heading towards your phone.

“Why?” He chuckles.

“I thought you stood me up. I assumed you were a fuck boy.” You admit, with the roll of your eyes.

“Quick to the assumptions.” Clint chuckles.

“So I’m sorry.” You roll your eyes, shrugging.

“At least you were honest about it.” He chuckles.

“So for that, I will let you pick what we order.” You smile at him, leaning on the counter.

“Oh that’s easy. Pizza.” He grins at you.

“I love pizza.” You grin at him.

“Now if you say you’re a coffee junky, you actually might be perfect.” He laughs. You blush, running a hand through your hair. “What?” He smiles.

“I own three coffee makers.” You admit with a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m going to need you to stop doing that.” Clint nods, scratching his fingers along his jaw.

“What?” You laugh.

“Saying things that make me want to kiss you.” He grins.

“Guess I’ll just order pizza than.” You blush, picking up your phone.

------

You drop on to the couch with Clint, picking up the remote.

“What’s your guilty pleasure?” He grins looking over at you. His arm over the back of the couch, as he settles in next to you.

“Famous murders.” You nod. “Not of famous people per say, but like the real popular, media heavy stories.” You nod.

“Like Kurt Cobain?” He chuckles.

“Don’t get me started on that.” You laugh. “We’ll never move on to a new topic and I’ll have to break out the tequila.” You shake your head.

“Wow the hard stuff?” Clint laughs.

“I could conspiracy theory rant on that for days.” You nod.

“I’ll save that for a rainy day than.” He nods, a soft smile on his lips. “So I picked pizza, you pick the documentary.” You smile, scrolling through your saved shows.

“Laci Peterson?” You look over at him.

“Faintly remember it.” He chuckles. You light up, as you start giving him the run down on the murder of Laci Peterson and her unborn son. He smiles listening to you, carry on.

“Going to shut up now.” You flush when you realize you’d been rambling on. “Let you just watch the show.” You nod, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“If you get that into just talking about it, I can only imagine you watching it.” He grins at you. You blush sinking back into the couch, pressing play.

Half a pizza later, a six pack of beer and breaking out the Hershey kisses you kept in your fridge. You felt Clint’s eyes on you. When you glance over, he’s watching you, not the show.

“What?” You wiggle in your seat under his gaze.

“You just get so into the show, you tsk and hmm to yourself.” He chuckles softly.

“I do?” You blush.

“It’s actually the cutest thing I’ve seen.” He grins at you.

“You’re going to have to stop doing that.” You sigh, glancing over at him.

“What?” His brow pulls down slightly.

“Saying things that make me want to kiss you.” You smirk at him. He grins at you.

You glance at the TV before you turn your head to say something. His mouth lands on yours, every nerve in your body tingles with life. Your hands slip into his hair, threading your fingers into it. His hands pull you closer to him by your hips. Stealing your mind with the electric rush from his kiss. With the second kiss, you didn’t even want it back. He could keep it, if he kept kissing you like that.

--------------------------------

Everything Peaches 2/6/19: @xmtd5 @mo320 @all1e23 @courtmr @avxgers @eliza-kat @izzy--lee @irepeldirt @dumblani @crist1216 @a--1--1--3 @alyssaj23 @allyp1023 @joannie95 @nishanki1 @bugalouie @kolakube9 @rileyloves5 @sarahp879 @sea040561 @sexyvixen7 @pcterpvrker @pigwidgexn @doctoranon @tomhardy41 @abschaffer2 @justrae9903 @bookluver01 @teller258316 @callie-bear15 @nickimarie94 @wandressfox @amandab-ftw @carostar2020 @henrietteoaks @nea90sweetie @circusofchaos @itsagalaxystar @bettercallsabs @miraclesoflove @lucifersnipnips @queenkrissy11 @this-is-mycrisis @sadyoungadult @destiel-artemis @xrosegoldwolfx @paintballkid711 @isabelcrichards @iwillbeinmynest @sweet-honey15 @chanelmadrid13 @mellxander1993 @killerbumblebee @spookygrantaire @geeksareunique @supernatural508 @sammysgirl1997 @itzmegaaaaaaan @booksbeforebois @optimistic-babes @childishhoebinoo @elizabethaellison @aspiringtranslator @mariekoukie6661 @pure-princess-97 @capsheadquaters @samanthasmileys @nerdypinupcrystal @atlas-of-the-world @youclickedthislink @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @notyourtypicalrose @petersunderoos96 @loving-life-my-way

@buckystolemyheart @booktvmoviefangirl @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @dumbbitchenergytm @abbypalmer14-blog @fanfictionjunkie1112 @meganlikesfandoms @awkwardfangirl2014 @supernaturaldean67 @xqueenofthecraziesx @queenoftheunderdark @writingaworldofmyown @supernaturallover2002 @daughterofthenight117 @mustbeaweasleyginger @mcuwillbethedeathofme @sprinklesandsugarcubes @whothehellisbucky-1930 @verymuchclosetedfangirl @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @wonderlandfandomkingdom @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @stupendoussciencenaturepanda @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @supernatural-strangerthings-1980

Marvel Tag List 2/6/19: @lumelgy @dottirose @jcc04220 @rockagurl @mizzzpink @jade-taillia @coley0823 @widowsfics @bookluver01 @thelostallycat @shield-agent78 @dtftheavengers @ilovetvshowsblog @capsheadquaters @iamwarrenspeace @thefridgeismybestie @whenallsaidanddone @deanwinchestersrifle @fandomsstolemylife00 @daughterofthenight117 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect

Clint ‘Destory Me, I’ll Thank You’ Barton:

@ml7010 @coley0823 @yavanna80 @lakamaa12 @boltsgirl919 @feelmyroarrrr @mrsseizetheday @honey-bee-holly @marvelfansworld @mybarnesmyhero @the-real-mary-jane @dumbbitchenergytm @agentsinstorybrooke @x-whyareyoureadingthis-x @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

It's Complicated: @capandbuckylvr @marvelfansworld @optimistic-babes @natromanoffsboys @thosesexytexasboys @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth

#Marvel #Clint Barton x Reader #Avengers #Clint x Reader #It's Complicated #Marvel Fanfiction #Clint Barton Series #Avengers Fanfiction #Hawkeye Series

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the-daily-multi-fandom-post · 1 year

Note

hey i was wondering if matchup requests are open? i don’t want to send anything and overwhelm you ❤️

Hi, you aren’t overwhelming me! All my requests are open. It just might take a while to post just because my internet service sucks. But everyone feel free to send in requests.

#x reader #the walking dead #imagines #bucky barnes #y/n #tony stark #marvel #steve rogers #rick grimes #twd #headcanon #match ups #match maker

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versdan · 5 years

Note

Hello! You want people to request marvel stuff, so...... do you think you could write for Bruce Banner like a x reader, but endgame!bruce, and playing video games with each other

I‘m going to write this as a hc if that’s alright, if you’d like it as a full piece, let me know! But I hope you enjoy!! Xx 🧡

pairing is platonic! Bruce Banner x Reader :)

————

To say you enjoyed video games is an understatement

Growing up, you played video games with your siblings which only grew your competitive side in games

So when you found out that Tony has installed a couple of game consoles, you were all over it

Your specialty was Mario Kart

Always getting first or in the top three

You would make everyone play against you in Mario Kart

While playing, you’d distract them, push their remote out their hand or even try and budge them fully which made everyone not want to play with you

Your competitive side was out on hold after the snap and you haven’t gotten back into the hang of playing games since it’s been five years after and you guys were still trying to find a way to save everyone which took up some time

Until one morning at the headquarters

Everyone was making breakfast and minding their own business

Until Bruce said he wanted to play video games, everyone stopped what they were doing

Natasha stood at the coffee maker, still as a statue

Steve stopped crunching on his cereal, staring at Bruce from across the table

Scott laughed, looking at everyone reactions

“What’s going on?” He questioned

Natasha turned around and before she could say anything you slid into the kitchen, your socks helping you smoothly make an entrance

“So!” You started

“You wanna play video games? Up for a match on Mario Kart?”

Bruce looked at you and then at everyone who gave him a scared look

Little did he know what he was getting himself into

“Yeah sure, we need some fun around here” Bruce laughed, getting up and fallowing you to the living room where you turned on the console and gave him a controller

“Uhh”

He didn’t know how to handle the tiny controller in his big hands, thinking he’d crush it

“Just press the buttons gently, don’t get too crazy”

“(Y/N), I don’t know gentle”

“Well you’ll learn it today”

Once you started playing, Bruce got the hang of the game and playing ‘gentle’

And when he came in first place and you in second, you were shocked

As everyone else was

“Well, looks like we’ve got a new winner”

He looked at you and smiled

“That wasn’t so bad”

“I just went easy on you”

You nugged Bruce’s shoulder and he didn’t even flinch

He laughed and nugged you back, thinking he’d done it softly

But he accidentally pushed you off the couch

You started rolling on the floor laughing and everyone else started to laugh

It was good to finally hear some laughter in the compound after years of sorrow

And you’d guys would thank Mario Kart for that

————

feedback is appreciated!

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner #bruce banner imagine #hulk x reader #hulk imagine #mark ruffalo #bruce banner headcanon #avengers x reader #avengers headcanon #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #scott lang #marvel x reader #marvel headcanons #gigglygwil bruce #endgame

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sabine-leo · 5 years

Text

Please me if you tease me - Part 7

Author: @sabine-leo

Rated: M (18+)

Part: 7 / ?

Genre: Tease, Humor,

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: There is something exhilarating about teasing your secret lover Loki. But are you ready to tangle with the God of Mischief? You are about to find out as the preperations for a grand festivity in Asgard kick in.

Note: Thank you for all your comments, reblogs and likes on the 6th part! I had a blast reading them !!!! Let´s see what happens next!

My Taglist ist open, as are requests.

Loki thought, that the tension would snap him in half. Had Odin taken so long to call Thor´s name? Was he messing with him? Did he walk along the line and DON`T chose (Y/N)? All those thoughts ran through his head like a freight train colliding with his emotions. He had it bad, he knew it that instance. His hands were wet and cold and his for to long lonely heart beat out a rhythm of angst and joy, uncertainty and hope at the same time. With the stare he had pinned on Odin he should have burned a hole into his skull by now. All he could think now was SAY MY NAME

Thor to his side looked evenly strained. For one because he hoped Odin would choose you to dance with Loki and secondly because he dreaded the dance. He had had lessons for decades, but he could not seem to muster anything like elegance. He danced like he fought...dirty, hands on and rough. The petite little lady next to him didn´t seem like she could take THAT. And his so-called friends just grinned!

Odin looked into your eyes and smiled a little bit. “How much persuasion was needed to get you to stand here?” he asked and Frigga just laughed softly. “Not much, just a tad and the promise of a new sword…” She winked at you.

“I see, for you or for (Y/N)? Odin looked at his wife with a smirk.”

“If you ask, my king, I prefer a knife, but thank you for your generosity!” Frigga answered and added.

“But firstly, let us put our son out of his misery, he is literally staring without blinking!”

Odin turned at that to look at Loki. “He never was overly patient.”

You thought that Odin did not get that right, Loki could be VERY patient and unhurried if he wanted to, but you started to crack under the pressure as well. Odin didn´t tell you to sit down again, he had smiled at seeing you standing in line. Maybe you weren’t JUST a soldier after all…

Odin regained his regal composure after his little talk with his wife. He turned, walked 2 steps which made Loki twitch. Then he said loud and clear. “Loki” Loki nearly flinched at his name but as he saw Odin turning to you and holding out his hand, he couldn´t stop the smile that was tugging up his lips, even if his life depended on it. Odin looked into your eyes and motioned you to take the hand he had offered. A lot of the ladies in line wrinkled up their noses but Frigga stared them down one after the other. You took Odin´s outstretched hand and he walked you over to Loki who literally beamed at you.

“Thank you, father.” He said quietly and inclined his head to Odin. Odin acknowledged Loki’s words with a little nod himself and transferred your hand onto Loki´s already waiting hand. Loki bowed a little and kissed your hand. The look he bestowed on you from down there was breath-taking. The slight blush on your cheeks showed how much he affected you with it. Thor, who still stood wooden and uncomfortable next to you with the chosen lady hissed.

“Don´t show me up THAT much, brother!”

Loki laughed a little and helped you to take your place beside him.

“Don´t fret brother mine. I plan to show off so that nobody will watch what you are doing.”

You paled a bit, you were an equally dreadful dancer as Thor.

“Darling, don´t burden yourself with concern. Just give in to my leading you.”

Loki said softly only for you.

The music started to play and Loki walked with you onto the middle of the dancefloor. He twirled you into position and bowed as you curtsied. Taking a step forward, he took you into a chaste dance position and looked deep into your eyes. They twinkled with hidden joy. At first, he let you get accustomed to his steps, then, as he had the feeling that you were comfortable with him leading you, he really showed off!

Did your feet even stay on the ground or was he carrying you? You laughed a little as he twirled you and was there to catch you again. Nothing like the disastrous but fun dance you had with Thor. Forgetting that everybody was probably looking at you, you beamed at him and earned yourself a handsome smile with it.

Thor was giving his best next to you but he did not look like he was having fun.

Odin leaned over to his wife and smiled. “He truly is my son, he can not dance at all…” Frigga laughed and smiled. “Yes, and Loki is graceful like your wife!” She winked at her king who bellowed out a laugh.

“True, my queen. And I can see now why you choose (Y/N), they compliment each other perfectly. Watching them bicker blinded me to the truth over the years.”

The music came to a stop and Loki smiled at you. He bowed deeply and kissed your hand. Not even slightly out of breath like Thor and his dance companion. Thor bowed now too and his lady walked back to the line. Oh, right you should be walking too by now, but as you started to move Loki took your hand.

“Please stay, you know I would have chosen you all along!”

You looked into his eyes and inclined your head a little, but you weren´t sure if this was proper protocol. Loki guessed what you were thinking and stepped a little forward.

“Father, my king, Mother, my queen, I have no need to walk along the line. I chose to dance with lady (Y/N) another time if I may.” Odin inclined his head.

“If you are certain you would not like to assess your options, you may, my son.”

Loki looked at you and then back at his father with a smile.

“I am very certain, I thank you for your wise choosing to let her dance with me.”

Smooth silver-tongued Trickster!

As Loki took his place by your side again you said between your teeth.

“Nice stunt letting Odin think he played perfect match-maker.”

Loki just grinned and let his magical touch glide down from your neck to your behind.

You shivered and nearly directly reacted to his touch. Your belly clenched and your heartbeat got faster. “So smug!” you huffed and Loki laughed a little, pleased with himself.

Thor had no need to look intensely at the woman waiting for him to choose his next partner. He walked to Sif and held out his hand. “You´re up. Who is laughing now?” He grinned and Sif rolled her eyes at him but took his hand. Odin clapped. “I believe my sons have chosen and are ready for a second dance.” With that the music started once more and Loki was more than eager to take you into his arms again.

The second dance was equally easy for you. Loki was a perfect dancer and made you look like one too. This time he came a little closer than would be protocol. Taking in a deep breath he murmured near your ear. “You smell delicious…and you look even more than that. I have undressed you about a million times in my mind by now”

“Loki, stop that or I will trip!”

Loki laughed “You won´t, I am here to hold you…trust me!?”

You heard the slight unsureness in his voice as he said the last two words.

“Always!” you said before it could take a hold of his thoughts any longer.

Loki smiled deeply and if you watched him intensely, relieved.

The music came to yet another stop and Loki had to shackle himself mentally to not kiss you then and there! He really, really wanted to! Frigga smiled as she saw Loki´s happy face and mouthed “Thank you” as you grazed her gaze. Not for that you thought. But what now? Everybody was still watching the four of you in their midst. Thor bowed to Sif and walked her off the dancefloor, relieved that his personal torture was over. But Loki didn´t make a move, he just looked at you and then stepped forward to Odin again.

Odin watched Loki and arched his eyebrow.

“My son?” Frigga tensed a little but then started to smile, guessing his intention.

“All father…” Loki started. “…If I may interrupt your generous and pleasurable festivity once more.”

Odin inclined his head to let him know that he could talk further.

“…I would love for you to approve of my intention of courting lady (Y/N) properly!”

Everyone gasped…including yourself!

Tags : @drakesfiance @confessionsofastrugglingteen @witchbitch-stuff @lokislilslut @bittersweetsuffering @tardis-impala-wizard @unhealthyobsessionwithmarvel @yokaimoon @heart-shaped-hell @lonelypudding @lisastandford95 @witchy-hobbit? @devilbat? @marvel-th @mylovelycrazyworld @redryderdesigns @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @inlovewithfreyamikaelson @theoneanna @marikochi @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @awkwardfangirl2014

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jobean12-blog · 3 years

Text

Ice Cream Summer

Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader

Word Count: 616

Summary: You meet Sam over the summer and spend it working together at the ice cream shop and now it’s time to go back to college...(both reader and Sam are around 19ish)

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC @the-marvel-horniest-book-club and Long Distance Love Weekend challenge and the prompt summer jobs. I love the idea of a fun summer of love with Sam and honestly, how could you not do anything to try and make it work once you have to go back to school. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf

Warnings: fun fluff, flirting, soft fluff :)

“Sam! I swear if you get any of that in my hair I’m going to make you mop the floors for the next week!” you screech, backing up toward the ice cream cooler.

When the back of your legs hits the chilly metal, you let out another screech and launch yourself at Sam, trying to push his whipped cream hand back in his own face. He wraps an arm around your waist and pins you to his chest, keeping his hand above his head so you can’t reach.

“Wrong move babe. It’s over!” he shouts before covering your face with his palm.

You elbow him several times until he lets go of you, wiping at your eyes until you can see clearly.

“You are so DEAD SAM WILSON!!!” you scream, taking off and nearly slipping and falling as you chase after him in the small ice cream shop.

“Someone is gonna call the police if you don’t keep it down!” Sam says while dodging your sticky hands.

You finally corner him, inching slowly closer then jumping and planting your hands on his chest. You kiss him, wiping the whipped cream off your face and onto his. He smiles against your lips, tracing the outline with his tongue and humming in satisfaction.

“And just when I didn’t think you could taste any better,” he croons, squeezing your hips.

“Sam!” you admonish, pulling away to hide your face. “It’s all over your shirt too,” you giggle, using it to wipe some more off your face.

“Great! Now I’m gonna have to get in my car like this!” he groans. “I can’t get this on the seats!”

You roll your eyes so hard he can feel it.

“Even though I can’t see your face I know you just rolled your eyes,” he chuckles.

“Well, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to your precious car, now would we?” you tease, wiggling from his grasp.

Just as he opens his mouth to speak you continue, “and might I remind you…you started THIS!”

You glare at each other for what feels like a whole minute before you get a good look at your matching messy appearances and the whipped cream that’s everywhere. Sam cracks a smile first and then you burst out laughing.

He walks closer and takes you in his arms.

“I’m gonna miss this job once summer is over,” he whispers into your neck.

“Just the job?” you ask quietly.

He looks you in the eyes. “Not just the job. The only reason I took it was so I could hang out with you.”

You kiss him softly, still tasting whipped cream and giggling.

“Who’s going to eat ice cream with me at 12 am while cleaning?” you ask, resting your forehead to his.

“ME!” he says with confidence, lifting your chin. “We’ll only be two hours apart and we can alternate weekends. I’ll buy you an ice cream maker so when I come we can make it and I’ll mop your floor.”

“Can we make my favorite?” you ask.

“Of course!” he exclaims. “Extra whipped cream too!”

You smile and lean your head against his chest, letting out a sigh.

“We should probably clean this up and get out of here. I want to go sit by the lake and look at the stars,” you tell him.

“Sounds perfect baby. We can even go for a dip to clean off,” he says with a waggle of his eyebrows.

You bite your bottom lip and push off his chest, grabbing the mop and bucket and shoving it toward him.

“If you wanna go skinny dipping you better get moppin’!” you tease and walk off to clean the ice cream machines.

@book-dragon-13 @chilloutbarnes @drabblewithfrannybarnes @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @lookiamtrying @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @starlightcrystalline @moonlacebeam @white-wolf1940 @randomfandompenguin

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x reader fluff #sam wilson x you #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson drabble #sam wilson fanfiction #hbc long distance love weekend

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 5 years

Text

Stay Ch. 10

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Physical violence, light smut, feels

A/N: I love that Only For A Moment and Stay both reached big milestones (for me anyway) this weekend. I really thought I wouldn’t have chapter 10 ready but then it just kind of spilled out of me in one painful rush (thanks, music).

Thank you so much for loving my girls like you do! Things are about to get... interesting for them. Don’t hate me.

This is another longer chapter (at least in comparison to how I’ve been structuring this and OFAM) but I hope y’all like it!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight @jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito

- Post Snap -

You must look like a fool. Sitting alone in a hotel bar, at the end of the fucking world, smiling from ear to ear. That or you look like you’re about to snap.

Laughing a little at yourself you slam back what’s left of your drink and decide to head up to your room. As much as you don’t want to leave the bar, want to hover here until you see her walk through those doors, your body demands sleep.

It had taken you almost two whole days to get to Vienna after the… whatever the fuck that was. Planes were grounded, roadways littered with cars filled with nothing but ghosts. Chaos growing with every passing hour.

Most civilians didn’t ever truly realize just how razor thin the line between order and anarchy was at any given moment. They put faith in their institutions to hold society together without knowing that their institutions were made of nothing but poorly kept secrets and dust. Now they’d know since it felt like half the fucking planet had dissolved into just that… dust.

Regardless, that long journey left little room for sleep. Add to that the ridiculous amount of liquor you’d consumed in the last 20ish hours… you were spent.

Once in your room, you practically face plant on the lush bed. Darkness consuming you immediately. Hoping that you dream of her.

You do…

A few hours later you wake up drenched in sweat. Immediately you bolt for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before your stomach contracts, filled with nothing but fucking bourbon… it’s about as unpleasant as throwing up can be.

“Fuck,” you groan, leaning against the wall clutching your abdomen.

Why that memory? Of all the things for your brain to pull out of the archives, it had to be her… covered in blood.

You think back to what it was like at the beginning. After Prague.

For two people who made their living in the world's underbelly, you couldn’t help but feel you didn’t deserve just how good the past year had been. Together you had seen the world, worked some jobs and lived as much like two normal people in love as you could.

Like any couple, you formed your routines. Wherever you were the first person up would make the coffee so the other would awake to sleepy kisses and the sweet smell of caffeine. Usually followed by a long shower together. She would always order you a Makers if she made it to the restaurant or bar before you and you’d order a Stoli or Grey Goose martini if you did. Natasha actually liked doing laundry so she would do the both of yours and you would handle folding and hanging (not that either of you carried much). Between jobs you’d train to keep one another sharp, you were even good enough to beat her more than once.

Movie nights were frequent. Just the two of you curled up in whatever hotel you found yourselves at with a few rentals and take out. Sometimes you’d kill days doing that. Other times you’d land in a city and never check in anywhere, just squat in one place or another exploring until you got bored.

It wasn’t all pure domestic bliss though.

Her dreams could be soul crushing. You’d awake to her cries a few times a month. Sometimes she’d want to fuck the memory away and you’d happily oblige. Others she would just want to curl into your arms, you’d hold her, stroking her hair, and kissing her tenderly until the tremors stopped. She never had to talk about the dream unless she wanted… most times you saw or at the very least felt them. They’d haunt you for the rest of your life. Not just the images themselves but because you couldn’t go back in time to save her from them…

More than once, mainly at the beginning, you had disagreements about jobs. You took one for a prominent South Asian crime syndicate she deemed too risky. The two of you argued for days about it. Finally, she conceded and while it was close, it all worked out. A few hits she took you thought were more than a little tasteless but ultimately you both decided to let the other do what she did best and generally stay out of it. Leave work at work.

That worked until she was given an order to take on a job with a fellow Red Room alum.

- December 2005 -

“Natasha… I don’t fucking like this,” you could have held your tongue about anything else but this.

“It’s not a discussion, baby. Remember? We have a rule-”

“Yeah. We do. But… kids.”

“There won’t be any children there. They’ve been moved to a new facility-“

“That’s not it,” you hand her one of her knives, “Children are involved. If the KGB wants the research they’ve been doing-”

“Y/N, I-”

“You know it can’t be good, Nat,” your voice is rising. “We were both kids once, used and-“

Her eyes shoot daggers at you, “Do you really think that didn’t cross my mind? I’m not happy about this. But if I refuse I’m putting a target on both our backs. I won’t.”

You sneer, “I don’t want any part of your justification for this one, Natasha.”

It didn’t matter that the hospital would be empty. You read the briefing. The two women were to slip into a donor event celebrating the new hospital’s opening. Snag the two lead doctors, bring them back to the old facility, get all the research that was still being stored there, destroy the evidence. No witnesses. No survivors.

Her arms wrap around you from behind, a soft kiss just under your ear. “Please tell me you don’t think I would do anything to harm a kid… I can’t-“

You turn in her arms to face her, “I know you wouldn’t honey. I know. But… if they’re performing research on… children. Fuck. I just, I don’t know.” Your foreheads rest together.

“I look at it like taking from the wolves. The men in charge of whatever they’re doing are going to die tonight and-”

“It can’t be taking from the wolves if you’re handing the knowledge to a different pack.”

The look on her face is pained. “I’m sorry,” she releases you going to the closet to pull out her gown for the evening and you plop onto the edge of the bed. She sighs heavily, “Look if there’s anything too bad I will make sure the KGB doesn’t get their hands on it. I’ll bring the other agent to you and…”

Your eyebrows cock-up, “Don’t you think her winding up dead will be more than a little suspicious?”

“I didn’t say dead. Head injuries are tricky things,” she smirks and winks.

“You’re diabolical,” your smirk matching her own.

She saunters over to you in nothing but her underwear and holsters and straddles you. Taking your face in her hands she kisses you hard, “You love it.”

Honestly, you did. Your hands slide slowly up her muscular thighs before hooking onto her underwear and you nibble her bottom lip.

She groans, “I don’t have time.” You don’t respond, just slide your fingers into the front of the lacy garment. Her head falls back as she grinds against them.

“You sure,” you whisper into the hollow of her collarbones. She shivers, “Can’t stay a few more minutes?”

“I can’t be late,” she says laughing at the look of disappointment on your face. “Tonight.”

“That’s so far away,” you whine playfully as she pulls your hand away and licks her own moisture off your fingers with a wink. A hum of pleasure rumbles in your chest.

“You started this,” she nips at your fingertips. “Deal with it,” she places a quick kiss on your lips before getting up.

“Bitch,” you say with a wink as you fall back on the bed your own hand sliding the zipper of your jeans down.

“Oh hell no!” Natasha pounces on you, pinning your hands by your head. “Don’t you dare.” Her kiss is hungry as her tongue fills your mouth, hot, wet, everything you want. “You had better wait for me,” she whispers into your ear before nibbling at your earlobe.

“Fine,” you sigh out.

As Natasha slips into the sleek black gown your mouth waters. The silhouette perfectly hugs her curves and the plunging neckline is just enough to tease while still remaining tasteful for the event. She catches you taking her in as she slips diamond studs into her ears.

“What do you think?” She asks as you stride over to her, spinning her to place her back against the wall before placing a passionate kiss on her lips.

“I think,” you kiss her once more, “you need to make sure this shit goes fast because if not I may have to crash the party to bring you home.”

“I’ll be sure to inform my colleague of the dire situation.”

“Good,” you kiss her once more. “Be safe.”

“I will.” She pulls away from you and steps into her pumps, grabs her clutch and coat. Tenderly she cups your face in her right hand, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, honey.”

4am, she should be back by now. You sit on the open window, fully dressed and armed, booted foot anxiously bouncing as you smoke your fifth cigarette in a row. You’ve been arguing with yourself for the better part of the last hour.

She had, of course, told you just where the hospital was. You could make it there on foot in less than a half hour. However, if you showed up and blew the mission she would have your ass and not in the way either of you wanted. Part of you didn’t care and wanted to rush in guns blazing. The other was saying you were being a paranoid idiot. Natasha could handle herself.

Sighing you duck back into the room, deciding the latter is right. Let the woman do her job, Y/N. Don’t be the hovering girlfriend. The thought barely finishes crossing your mind when something in the city blows, just powerful enough for the aftershock to rattle the hotel windows.

You bolt to the window, a few car alarms scream and the sky is red in the direction of the hospital.

“No,” you say into the cold night. Without hesitation you swing out onto the fire ladder and climb down, jumping the last few feet too eager to begin sprinting in that direction.

Even though you’re running as fast as you ever have in your entire life it feels like you’re in quicksand. You stick to the back routes, avoiding any emergency vehicles or dispersing crowds. Heart thundering. You’re practically blind with determination.

When you’re close enough to the scene to not only know it was unquestionably the hospital but to smell the fire someone grabs you. Panic surges you. You spin, unthinking. You sweep the assailant's feet from under her and pin her to the ground. It’s only then that you realize that the person covered in ash and blood is Natasha. Tears clearing a path down her cheeks.

“Honey!?” You gasp jumping off her. She sits up trembling, wheezing. “Oh god,” kneeling next to her you begin to check her over, there was so much blood. “Nat…” your hands come way red and black.

“Not,” she tries to suck in a breath and coughs, “mine,” she barely gets out.

“Ok. Ok, that’s good.” You can see the lights from the sirens and hear people far too close for comfort. “Come on,” you help her to her feet noticing that they’re bare, “let’s get to the hotel.”

“No,” she gasps panic filling her face head shaking frantically.

“What? That may not be your blood but bab-“

“They know,” she coughs, loud and violent, “not… not safe.”

You stare at her for a long minute trying to understand what she means by ‘they.’ “Ok. We can’t stay here though.” Her head shakes in agreement. “Different hotel?” She nods yes.

A handful of blocks in the opposite direction of your hotel there’s a questionable inn. You pay the half drunk attendant in cash and sneak Natasha in a few minutes later. She’s gone quiet, distant, her head lolling to one side as you sit her on the bed.

You turn the shower on, brown water spurts from the head concerningly before finally clearing. Steam quickly fills the stall.

“Honey,” you gently turn her face to yours. She looks at you but her eyes are cloudy. It hits you then that you’re not feeling anything from her. Not one single emotion is rising to your senses. Panic fills your stomach.

You will your voice to be steady, you have to be strong for her. “We need to get you cleaned up. Come on, baby.” Gripping her shoulders you guide her up onto her feet. She doesn’t fight you, moving like a living doll.

By the shower, you unzip the back of the now ruined dress and slide it off. Without prompting she steps free and pulls her underwear off as you unbuckle her holsters. Quickly you strip down too and bring her into the stall.

Placing her in the stream you grab a washcloth and begin to tenderly clean the grime from her. As the soot slips down the drain you see the blooming bruises on her face, her body. A few cuts would need stitching you note as rivulets of red seep from them. That was the least of your concerns right now. Still, she had absolutely no emotion, nothing, just a void where there should be… anything. You had seen and felt shock before, this wasn’t that. At least not how you’d ever known it to manifest.

With her as clean as you could get her here you guide her out. Drying her off and wrapping her in a towel before drying yourself off. Still nude you guide her to the bed again and sit her on the edge. You’re about to go dress when her fingers rise to the thick pink scar on your abdomen, lightly tracing it.

“Honey?” You ask softly, unsure how to read this.

“Why?” Her voice is a rasp.

“You know why,” you tilt her face up. “I knew you were worth it.” There’s a quick searing lash of emotion from her, so intense you almost stagger back. It’s too fast for you to even grasp what it is.

“What if you’re wrong?” There’s still no emotion in her words. Hollow.

“I’m not,” you lean down so your face is level with hers, “I am not wrong, Natasha. You’re worth everything to me.” She doesn’t react just stares blankly at you. Sighing you go and get back into your clothes.

She needed clothes, you needed a way to stitch her up, you needed some of the things in your hotel room. In the dirty bathroom mirror, you see her looking at her hands, static-like emotions coming from her. That was at least somewhat better.

Grasping her hands in yours you keep your voice level, “I’m going to go to the hotel,” you expect a fight but her eyes only search yours, “I’ll be careful. But there’s shit there we can’t leave and I need the med kit to stitch you up.” She nods. “I’ll leave you my gun and a knife,” her weapons were likely buried in the rubble of the hospital.

Pushing a few damp strands of hair from her face, “Will you be ok here? Be honest, Natasha.”

“Go,” her voice low. “Sooner the better. Before they have time to get there.” You want to know who this they are but you figure it’s best saved for later.

“Ok,” you kiss her forehead and slip your boots on. “I’ll be back.”

“Y/N,” you turn to her. “I love you.” There’s a whisper of that familiar intoxicating emotion with that word.

You smile, “I love you too, honey.”

At your hotel you climb back up the fire ladder, sending your sixth sense ahead of you to try to sense anyone in the room. It seems clear so you climb back into the window.

Hastily you stuff your duffel bags with the essentials, some clothing, basic toiletries, weapons, and the med kit. You take one last look around the room, the memory of your earlier flirtation filling you with a strange dread, and head out the door.

The whole trip took maybe an hour. As you walk back through the lobby of the inn you notice the front desk guy isn’t there but think nothing of it. At your door, you softly knock.

“It’s me, honey,” you wait, thinking she’ll open it but there’s nothing. Swallowing the bile rising in your throat you quietly set the bags down and pull your Ka-Bar out before slowly unlocking the door.

Your senses don’t pick up on anyone. There are no lingering ghosts of emotion from a struggle and everything is just as you left it. Methodically you open the closet, look under the bed, but there’s nowhere else for someone to be in this tiny room. She’s just gone.

On the little notepad by the phone, you notice writing that was not there before. One word.

Sorry.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #the black widow #queer fic #natasha romanov

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bionic-buckyb · 6 years

Text

When It Rains: Part 2

A Thor x Reader / Soulmate Series

Master List

⚡ You’ve been dreaming of the same voice, the same man, for as long as you can remember. You never thought that he could be real, let alone that he was the God of Thunder, your soulmate, and the key to unlocking a mysterious power within you; a power that could be used to save Thor’s homeland of Asgard, or, in the wrong hands, to destroy it.

A/N: I had SO MUCH FUN writing part one and even more fun writing this! It’s so freeing to write for other characters, especially Thor, and to explore the marvel universe more. I just hope you guys are liking it! This whole series is based (loosely) off the song Dreams by Fleetwood Mac. Thank you to @howlingbarnes, my beautiful bestie, for reading this over for me. Your asks, likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated (although if you could reblog to get it out there, i’d appreciate it the most)! I’d love to hear if you wish for me to continue [:

Word Count: 1,765

Warnings: - language. - very mild violence.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine. (credit: here)

Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest, as Thor’s astonishingly clear, blue eyes pierced your very soul. You couldn’t believe it. The person you’d been dreaming about for literal years, was standing right in front of you. But how? How was this possible? Your brain worked in overdrive over every explanation, but the overpowering fuzz of uncertainty claimed the most space. Shaking your head, you tried to clear your mind and think rationally. Thor’s brow was furrowed in apparent concern, sweet wrinkles appearing by his eyes as he concentrated.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, reaching out a very large hand, and placing it on your shoulder in a genuinely concerned manner. Only five minutes in this being’s presence, and you had already deemed him perfection.

“I---yeah…” you replied, fidgeting at the spot. “I just… feel like I know you.”

“I must say, I do feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before. Have we ever met?”

“Uh… no,” you said, with a shake of your head. “I don’t think we have.”

“Shame. Maybe you’ve seen me on the television? I’m quite popular here on Earth.”

The smile that followed this statement warmed your fragile heart this time; the delicious warmth creeping over every bone in your body like a comforting blanket. But there was the word again. Earth. The only word you’d ever heard him say. How would you possibly explain this to someone so… godlike? Your anxiety began to creep up on you, like a insatiable thirst, sucking you dry. You couldn’t tell him about your dreams. How stupid would you look?

“Yeah,” you finally retorted, smoothing out your apron, picking off every fuzz and crumb; anything to not have to face him. “That’s probably it.”

Thor looked out the window, before looking back at you. You could feel those eyes scanning over you, assessing you, and your entire body was on fire. You didn’t want to let him go, but how would you make him stay? You were just… you. And he was just… out of your entire fucking league.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice quieter than before, more intimate. “I have to be going now. I’m needed by my good friend, Tony Stark.”

You choked on your own spit, coughing violently.

“I’m sorry, did you just say you’re friends with Tony Stark?”

“Indeed. Do you know of him?”

“Well, he’s only one of the richest men on the entire planet---”

You stopped speaking mid sentence, and that’s when it all finally clicked. Suddenly, you felt so stupid that you wanted to literally kick yourself as hard as possible, or vomit, or both. Tony Stark was the founder of the Avengers and, after taking another glance at Thor, realized that he too was obviously a part of them. You didn’t know much about the Avengers, or their members; just that they saved the world and the government gave them shit for it.

“Wait… you’re an Avenger, aren’t you?” you asked bravely.

“I am or… was. Not really sure where they stand anymore. Which is where I was going, to find out.”

“Ah, okay, yeah. Please, don’t let me stop you,” you replied, your heart crying out not to let him leave, but your brain knowing you had to. “It was very nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” he stated with a nod of his head, before turning out of the coffee shop door. You watched as he walked in the middle of the street with purpose. A bolt of electric blue lightning that matched his eyes came from the sky. It zapped around him like a force field and you gasped, as the same lightning emitted from his fingertips. Thor turned once more to look at you through, his eyes glowing the whitest blue you’d ever seen. His clothes had now changed, and he was wearing leather armor, which hugged every part of him perfectly. To your surprise, he winked before quickly disappearing straight up into the sky. You ran out into the street and looked up, hoping for one more glimpse of the man of your dreams, but he was gone. The only thing that greeted you was a rumble of thunder, followed by drops of rain on your face.

Walking quickly back into the coffee shop to avoid getting wet, you did a quick Google search on your phone.

Thor.

Many things came up, including lots of Norse mythology. Myths, about the son of Odin. Your head was spinning, as if your body was on the fastest teacup ride at Disneyland. Specifying the search, you tried:

Thor, Avengers.

What came up made you gasp, and feel even more stupid than you already felt, even though deep down you always knew.

Thor, son of Odin, is the god of Thunder. He is the most important and famous god in Norse mythology and, after coming to Earth to reveal himself, along with teaming up with Mr Tony Stark, has become a crucial part of the Avengers team. After the historical incident in Sokovia, his location is unknown. It is possible that he currently resides on his own planet, Asgard.

So Thor was an actual god after all; an otherworldly being. You set your phone down and inhaled quickly, before releasing all of your pent up air in one long breath. All this time, you had been seeing what you assumed were Thor’s memories. The actual god of Thunder. But why? Why you? And why did he come to you now, in a measly coffee shop on Earth when, clearly, he was on the run? Crazy questions ran through your brain, with no answers to sedate them.

“Fuck…” you breathed, trying everything not to cry. You didn’t know what to do, where to turn, or what any of this meant.

After what felt like an eternity, you were finally relieved from your position by a coworker, and began your walk to the parking garage a few blocks down the street from the coffee shop to retrieve your car. All you wanted to do was curl into a ball in bed and cry, knowing that you’d let Thor just leave without an explanation for the dreams that tortured you for so long. He was, after all, an actual god. Maybe he knew what was happening to you.

Not realizing where you were going, you slammed into a stranger who was standing directly in front of you. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, so as not to draw attention, sending chills down your spine.

“Gimme your purse, and no one gets hurt.”

“What?” you asked, absolutely flabbergasted. “Absolutely fucking not.”

The man’s fingers were wrapped around the strap now, yanking it toward him. A mean glare was in his eyes. You were playing tug of war now. All of your money was in this bag, your entire life. There was no way you were letting it go.

“Let go!” you screamed, hoping to get someone’s attention, but the street was empty. “Now, asshole!”

You saw the stranger reach into his pocket with his free hand, and you froze. You knew he was going for a knife, a gun; anything to kill you with. This was it. This was the end.

Except you were very wrong.

A loud crack of lightning struck just behind the stranger, making him let go of your purse and yelp in surprise.

“Jesus Christ!” he screamed, jumping away from you. “Oh fuck…”

When he spoke, he was almost looking through you, as if someone was behind you. You furrowed your brow, as you watched the stranger tremble with fear, before running the other way.

“I was only gone like... an hour,” the sweet, deep, soothing voice said behind you. The only voice to ever make you weak in the knees. “You’re a trouble maker, aren’t you?”

You turned around in what felt like slow motion, as you took in Thor for the first time since you found out who and what he actually was. Butterflies fluttered inside your stomach, the sudden urge to vomit from emotion apparent. He was the most beautiful creature you’d ever laid eyes on, and that was a fact now.

“Thank you…” you managed to breathe, holding your stomach. “You saved my life.”

“Nonsense,” he said with a wave of his hand. “But I have to tell you I haven’t been very honest with you.”

His statement took you by surprise, and your hand instinctively clutched your heart.

“Neither have I,” you finally replied, not taking your eyes off of him for fear he’d vanish again.

“That’s what I feared. Will you come with me, to a safe place that we can talk? I’d like to get you looked at by a friend, to be sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, I—-“

“Non-negotiable I’m afraid,” he interrupted, and you didn’t argue. “Please, come with me?”

He asked as a question, although you knew it wasn’t one.

You looked at his hand as he extended it to you, your face clearly reading that of the biggest skeptic. Your heart was screaming “Go!” but your brain was screaming “Don’t!”

“I promise, I won’t hurt you,” he assured you. “I would never dream of hurting you, Y/N.”

You placed your hand in his, your eyes never leaving the smile he wore just for you. As your fingers wrapped into his own, your world lurched forward, as he flew you to your new destination.

It felt like a few minutes, but might have been much longer. Thor’s free hand was used to wrap around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible to keep you safe.

The eventual landing was rough, and your world spun for a while as you clutched the floor on all fours. To your surprise, you felt the same fingers that were wrapped in yours moments before, rubbing your back in a comforting manner.

“Good God, Thor,” another soft voice said somewhere around you. “Why did you fly her here? You could’ve just had Tony’s guys pick her up?”

“She had been through enough with strangers, Banner,” Thor said quietly. “I wanted her to be with me. I almost lost her today.”

“Okay, okay,” Banner said, shaking his head. “Lets help her up at least, huh?” Two strong hands looped under each of your arms and pulled you up. You were dizzy.

“Are you okay?” Thor asked you, taking your face in his hands. You nodded, unable to form words. Banner was snapping his fingers in your face, his own covered in worry. “Can I get you anything?”

Suddenly, another man appeared behind Thor and you immediately spaced out on his all too familiar face.

“Hello, Y/N?” he extended a hand between you and Thor. “My name is Tony Stark. I wanted to personally welcome you to Stark Tower.”

You didn’t take his hand, and instead saw Thor’s intense face of concern, as you passed out in his arms.

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Part 3

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