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reigningqueenofwords · 21 days

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Happy Anniversary

Pairing: Steve x Tony Word count: 2,732

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Tony all but bounced into Steve’s studio where his boyfriend was working. “Get cleaned up, we’re going out to celebrate!” The brunette beamed. “I’m taking my guy out for a night on the town.”

Steve chuckled, putting down the sketch pad that he was drawing in. “Oh?” He smiled, loving when Tony was in this mood. So much better than the nights where he drank himself stupid from self-loathing. Sure, they were far less lately, but Steve would always worry. “What are we celebrating?” He asked as he got up.

“Remember that movie I auditioned for months ago?” He started, reminding Tony of a giant child who was telling a story. Steve nodded, letting him go on. “Well, you’re looking at the lead actor, baby!” He held out his arms, a proud look on his face.

Pulling him close, he kissed him lovingly. “I’m so happy for you!” He kept his arms around him. “I know how much you wanted this part.” He rested his forehead on his. “Where will you be filming?” He asked, curious. “And do you know who you’ll be working with?”

“Details!” Tony chuckled. “We’ll talk over dinner. And then when we get back I want an update on what you’re working on for your show.” He told him. “Which, I’ve already warned them I’m not missing that for anything.” He promised his boyfriend. “You’ve worked so hard for this.”

Steve blushed lightly, a shy smile on his face. “Thank you.”

Sipping their wine, Steve watched Tony before he went on about filming- it was taking place in London, and Paris was all he’d said so far. “I don’t know the lead actress, and I won’t until we start shooting.” Steve looked surprised when Tony told him that. “She won’t know who I am, either. They said that they want a look of surprise for that first scene, to make it more authentic. Color me intrigued.” He shrugged.

“That’s new.” He nodded. “But, I guess that would make it very authentic.” He chuckled.

“I do know that I’ll be working with Natasha Romanoff again, so I can’t complain there.” He mused. They’d worked together on a couple other films and gotten along fairly well. “They’re hoping for Thor Odinson, as well. Something about possible scheduling conflicts.” He explained. “I’m hoping, too. He’s easy to work with, and I haven’t seen him in a couple years.”

Steve smiled. “I can’t wait to see it.” He chuckled, knowing it was a while before that happened. “I always love your work.” Which was true. That was how they had met. Steve had drawn Tony from one of his movies (one Tony felt was far from his best work), and Steve’s best friend managed to get it to the A list movie star.

“You did what?!” Steve stared at Bucky.

Bucky smirked. “I got your work to Stark.” He shrugged as if it was nothing. “I know a guy who is dating his current costar. I asked him for a favor. He passed your drawing to his girlfriend, who gave it to Stark.” He said easily. “He was impressed. Which is no surprise, punk. You got talent.”

Steve took a deep breath. He’d had a crush on Tony since his first movie at the age of 16- nearly fifteen years prior! How was he supposed to react to Tony having his art now? He was just some nobody who liked to draw. He’d been trying to get noticed, with no luck. “So, that’s that, right? I mean, so what, he has my drawing.” He blew it off.

“And he wants to meet you.” He told him, making Steve freeze. “Natasha asked Clint to ask me for your number.” It sounded like he was back in middle school at this point. “He’ll be in town next week, and will be giving you a call.”

“Shit.” He breathed.

“What’re you thinking about?” Tony asked.

Steve grinned. “About how we met.” He said happily. “Two years ago you called me and I nearly had a panic attack!” He chuckled. “I almost dropped my phone into some paint.” He blushed.

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “You never told me that.” He shook his head. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t, and that you picked up. Best call of my life.” He beamed.

“Even better than when you get the part you’ve really been wanting?” Steve teased him playfully.

“Oh yeah.” He nodded, enjoying their date.

Tony had left two days ago, leaving their shared him far quieter. Their dog, Cooper, kept huffing randomly. He would always mope the first week that Tony was gone filming. “Yeah, I miss him, too.” Steve sighed. His show was in a couple weeks, and he’d done next to nothing the past day. He’d relaxed, caught up on some reading, and did some housework. Even though Tony had someone come once a week, Steve kept it as clean as he could. Reaching over, he scratched behind one of Cooper’s ears. “We’ll go for a run soon.” He told him.

Hearing his phone, he eagerly reached for it on the coffee table. He saw that Tony was FaceTiming him and grinned, quickly accepting. “Hey you!” Tony greeted him, clearly in his trailer.

Cooper perked up at his voice, trying to crawl into Steve’s lap. Laughing, Steve moved the phone so Tony could see them both. “Hey! We miss you.” He told him. “Obviously.” He put his arm over Cooper.

Tony chuckled. “Well, I miss you guys, too. Thought I’d call and see how you two are managing without me.” He usually called whenever he could when he was shooting.

“Well, the first week is always hard.” He sighed. “Gonna take this guy out for a jog later. Maybe see if Bucky wants to join us.” Steve shrugged. “Maybe grab some pizza for dinner.” Easy to eat while working into the night in his studio.

“Just don’t stay up all night.” Tony ‘scolded’ him playfully. “Remember when I called you once and you had blue paint on your cheek because you fell asleep next to a painting? And the canvas then had your face print on it?’

Steve laughed, nodding. “You mean the one that you refused to let me scrap and hung up in our room?” He asked.

“Hey, I love your cheeks.” He winked, making Steve blush. “But, there’s another reason I called.” Tony admitted, glad that he had gotten Steve into a good mood. “I found out who my leading lady is this morning.”

“Okay? Why am I getting the vibe that it’s not someone you want to be working with?” He asked, furrowing his brows. There were very few people that Tony didn’t care to work with. Hell, Steve could think of maybe one or two?

Tony took a deep breath. “It’s Pepper.” He told Steve. “My ex.” He added, as if Steve didn’t know who Pepper was. Pepper had been his first love. They had been together for years- nearly ten. The last two they had been engaged, even. Tony had been the one to finally call it off. He just felt they were growing in different directions. He had been in a downward spiral from years in the spotlight. She was America’s sweetheart.

Steve felt the knots in his stomach. “Oh…” How could he reply to that? It wasn’t like he could stop Tony from working on this film. Not when he had been so excited to be the lead actor. Not when Tony had worked so hard to leave that ‘image’ of him behind. He licked his lips, the seed of insecurity planting itself. It was no secret that Pepper still loved Tony. She’d said it in enough interviews over the years since the split- just over 5. People had wondered if the pair would ever get back together, even since Steve entered the picture.

“I wanted to tell you before those vultures wrote about it.” Tony said softly. “And ask if maybe you could fly out this weekend?” He asked, hopeful. “Come out Saturday, fly home Sunday night? Have Barnes stay at the house with Cooper.” He chuckled as the dog perked up, wagging his tail happily. “Please?”

“Yeah, I’ll book a flight.” He agreed, nodding. “I’ll bring my sketch pad for while you’re filming. Maybe get some ideas for some new pieces.” Anything to avoid thinking of his boyfriend filming a movie that was borderline romantic with the woman he had once planned to marry. Part of him felt like an ass. They broke up years ago, and he’d been with Steve just over two years. Why should he be worried about her?!

Tony could tell Steve wasn’t liking this idea. “If I would have known...I would have turned it down.” He said honestly, surprising Steve. “I don’t want to work with her, and I know you aren’t a fan of the idea.” The last thing he wanted was this movie to cause issues in his relationship, but he’d signed the contract already. Even then, Steve wouldn’t want him to walk away. That’s just how he was- wanting Tony to work on projects he loved. “I’ll FaceTime you as much as I can, and I’ll be home for your show, for a couple days. I’ll come home Thursday, and come back Saturday. Maybe Sunday. They’re gonna work on scenes I’m not needed for.” He just wanted to assure Steve. “I’d kidnap you and keep you in my trailer if I could.” He teased, thankful when Steve cracked a small smile at that.

He ruffled Cooper’s fur. “Actually, maybe I could fly out with you after my show, and stay there for a bit? I can work on some sketches anywhere.” He suggested.

“I’d like that.” Tony grinned. “I look forward to it.” He was already trying to plan dates in his head as they said their goodbyes.

Having Tony at his art show meant the world to Steve. While some people said that Steve was only ‘famous’ because he was ‘fucking’ Tony Stark, he didn’t listen to them. He didn’t care enough to. He loved what he did.

He wasn’t expecting Pepper to show up, as well. Tony went straight to Steve, seeing his boyfriend’s smile falter at the sight of her. “Babe…” He started.

Steve looked at him. “Really?” He asked. “You brought her?” He shook his head, his insecurity getting the better of him. “Missed being around her, so what? You thought you’d bring her to my show?”

Tony groaned. “No!” He shook his head, moving them away from where most people were. “She overheard me talking to Nat about your show. I was being a proud boyfriend. Talking about how I should try to get one of your pieces for a set prop.” He saw Steve blush. “She invited herself. I asked her to come at the same time because I knew as soon as you saw her, you’d be upset. And I was right.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.” He laced his fingers with Steve’s. “Can we just go mingle, do the whole art show thing you’re so damn good at, and then get home?” He asked, just wanting to support Steve.

When Steve looked at him, he felt his anger dying down. Tony was looking at him with those big brown eyes, pleading with him silently. Sighing, he cupped Tony’s cheek and kissed him softly. “But if she gets rude, I will have Bucky remove her. He’s working security tonight with Sam.” While neither of the men were usually in the security business, they both did well. Hell, half the time just a glare from them set people right. And it gave them a bit of extra money while helping their friend.

Tony nodded. “Deal.” He agreed. He couldn’t see her becoming rude, but he wouldn’t keep her there if she did. He pecked Steve’s lips once more before leading them back into the main room. “The man of the hour returns!” He announced, making Steve blush lightly. There were some claps, making Tony beam with pride. This was for the man he loved.

While moving around the room, Steve heard Pepper talking to another patron. Tony had went to chat with Bucky about cars or bikes, so he wasn’t there to hear her. “Of course we’ll get back together.” She laughed. “I’m here with him, aren’t I? Besides, he’s always wanted a family. I can give him that.” She said as if it was nothing. “I think this movie was what we needed to see what we still mean to each other.”

Clenching his jaw, Steve felt angry tears sting his eyes. He took a deep breath and moved towards where Bucky was. “I need you to escort Pepper out. Now.” He told him, his voice low.

“What? Why?” Tony asked, looking confused. “She’s just been talking to everyone else, enjoying your work.”

“No, she’s telling people you’re getting back together, that she’s your date, and that you’ll have a family together.” Steve told him. “Whatever. Bucky, just make everyone leave. Show’s over.” He stalked off. He didn’t believe Pepper, but her words still stung. Tony never mentioned wanting a family to him, but had that been an old dream of his? And Tony basically defended her!

Bucky stared after him for a minute before standing up straight. “I need to ask everyone to leave.” His voice killed every bit of conversation that was going on. “Now.” He added firmly. His eyes went to Tony. “Why are you still standing here?” He raised an eyebrow. “Either go after him, or get the hell out with her.” He told him, gaze looking over the crowd. He spotted Sam at the door, ushering people out.

Steve was sitting on the floor, back against the wall. His knees were up, his elbows resting on them, and his head was in his hands. This wasn’t how he had seen tonight going. “Steve?” He tensed lightly at Tony’s voice.

“Do you want a family?” He asked softly.

“What?”

“Do. You. Want. A. Family? Marriage? Kids? All that?” Steve looked at him, but Tony couldn’t read his expression.

Licking his lips, he walked over and crouched. “Do you want that?” He was curious. He could see Steve being a great dad. The perfect dad. Him? He was a screw up most of the time.

Letting his head lean back, he shrugged a shoulder. “I’d like that, but I never even thought it was an option for us.” He admitted. “Figured Cooper was it for us. You never said anything about wanting anything more.” He’d always hoped one day that Tony would want to marry him, but at the same time, he tried not to.

“Let me finish this movie, and then I’m taking us on the most romantic vacation.” He started. “I’ll plan some cheesy proposal, and then we’ll plan a very us wedding.” He grinned.

“You know you just gave away any element of surprise, right?” Steve teased. “And I don’t need a showy romantic vacation, you know that. I’m happy just spending time at home, relaxing.” He reminded him. “Unless you were planning to take me to the Louvre.” He said playfully.

“Oh, I would buy it for you if I could.” Tony took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Now, let’s go grab something to eat with the muscle twins, and head home to Cooper.” He stood up, pulling Steve with him.

“Daddy!” Came a voice, paired with the sound of little feet running.

“Munchkin!” Tony beamed, scooping up the little girl. “Were you good for Daddy?” He asked, kissing her cheek.

She nodded. “I missed you, though.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Daddy’s out back with Matty and Simon.” She informed him.

“Then, let’s go see them, Princess Anna!” He kicked the door shut and made his way through the house, bouncing the four year old as he went. Walking out into the backyard, he saw all his friends and the rest of his family. Steve had one of their twins on his hip while the other stood next to him. They had turned two the month before, and Tony had been filming since the week after their party.

Steve looked over and beamed. “Happy anniversary!” He called out to his husband of seven years.

Tony never looked happier as he made his way to him. “Happy anniversary.” He beamed.

#stony oneshot #stony fic #tony x steve oneshot #steve x tony oneshot

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jeannedarkterraguard · 1 year

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Day four of Jeannes Pokemon Scarlet Nuzlocke

Didn't really have a lot of time over last two week because my father died last Tuesday and i didn't really feel like playing even when i had the time but today we actually continue the Nuzlocke

ok, I'm pretty sure legends Arceus already had idle animations like this but i think it's cool that the characters actually reacts to the weather by shielding themselves from the rain while running. I mean it's stupid and doesn't do shit but people do this in real life too so...

i decided to actually do some of the classes the game keeps telling me about because Lisa told me they would be important later and honestly... with the exception of history they all seem pretty useless right now...

time for the next titan fight

okay the idea of an evil stork pokemon throwing boulders from its... bag? Bib? Pouch?... is pretty creative but this thing does look really stupid when it opens its beak

also i once again OHKO'd it with thunder fang

looks... tasty?

Yeah arven... your dog just barked... I'll call the fucking news

SWIMMING! Finally a useful new ability

New Team member Amphitrite the Finizen

uhm... either the director forgot he's supposed to be undercover or students actually can expel other students. Which seems weird

Next new team member Metis the Tatsugiri... this is also the point where i realized i was walking around the wrong area for my level...

Gaia evolved... not sure if i like the design but i also don't hate it

so this titan just wanders around the desert... guess I'll fight it then

Hey look... I'm finally not overleveled for once

still OHKO'd

Arven brings up a fantastic point... why can't healthy things actually taste good

is it just me or does my mouth look unnaturally big in this picture?

Gliding!!!

i know i shouldn't... I know this is a terrible Idea... I could loose the Nuzlocke here... but i really want to have the last movement option for Koraidon...

No Arven we didn't get a On-Screen message that we defeated the Titan... there's clearly another phase to this fight

see...

had to sacrifice both Themis and Persephone but i managed to defeat the titan

why are we scared of a sandwich?

And climbing... now i should be able to go literally everywhere...

and the dog is healthy again... yay, i guess...

Oh boo hoo! Arven you're a grown ass man and your mom has a job stop whining like a baby just because she isn't home 24/7

OH MY GOD!!!! i found a shiny Nymble! I actually get to take advantage of the Shiny-Clause!!!!

Hermes the SHINY Nymble

and now that the Titans are done it's time for the next team star base

probably should have done this one sooner

yeah that was way too easy

hey, my cat/dog/native American lizardman likes you penny

Oh shit are they going to make me feel bad for beating up the evil team now?

Demeter and Hermes evolved

also it seems i forgot to take a screenshot of it but i caught Hecate the Girafarig and she also evolved

don't worry kid... most four year olds aren't

Okay I'm beginning to question team stars judgment because if someone walked around looking like that... i would NOT let them design ANY outfit

well... I'm actually not sure why i send Athena in but it was definitely a bad idea

still won... Hecate really carried my team here (i need better coverage)

Ah yes, he's getting bullied because he geeks out over old-fashioned stuff... not at all because of the way he looks, talks or dresses...

I... Uhm... how... Why does this guy have TWO monobrows?!? (is it still a monobrow if he has two of them?)

oh right the wallet... i think i got that when i was going from great tust to the false dragon titan... also it always confuses me how people forget things like their wallet, keys or phones... like i forget a lot of things, names, birthdays, my lunch... one time when i was 17 i forgot to put on a shirt and went to school in a sports bra... but never in my life have i forgotten to bring my wallet that thing is always in the back-pocket of my jeans so all i have to do before leaving the house is give a slap to my left asscheek and i know if i have it.

This seems like a weird gym test... but then again everything about this gym is weird

hey, i made 10k on this

okay at this point I'm pretty sure this game is doing this on purpose to confuse straight people...

well. This should be relatively a relatively easy sweep with Gaia

yup... also this photo is ridiculous

Nemona you need to chill

sooo... Larry is... just a dude? I mean it makes sense for the normal type gym leader but it also automatically makes him the least memorable gym leader I've seen in this game yet

really wish i still had Athena with me...

and there goes Amphitrite... Shit

still did it but man i REALLY need more coverage on my team

THANK YOU GEETA

THATS WHAT QUAXLY TURNS INTO?!?

well that would be useful if i had a pokemon with a terra type different than its own original type

outside of the fairy squad base and look I'm not overleveled...

New team member Hephaestus the Bronzong

HOLY FUCK!!!! i was actually trying to catch the Salazzle and just randomly find a SECOND shiny!?! i never found a single shiny in any of my previous Nuzlockes and now i get two in a single run

New (and as far as i can tell probably last because the only areas left are the north, east and south sea and all I seem to find there are Finizen and Wattrel) team members Hydra the Deino and Aphrodite the Salazzle

well that was a productive day... i think i will take on the Fairy squad base next...and i know that is a bad idea but look... i specifically got Hephaestus and Aphrodite for that base and the only other things left to do are

The psychic gym, but i kinda wanna wait with that until Gaia has a better dark move than bite

The ghost gym, which i could do but... see my above comment about the psychic gym...

The fighting squad, but the only team members that would be effective there are Sana and Hecate and both of them are only around level 35

and The ice gym, for which i only have Hestia and she isn't even evolved yet (well i also have Aphrodite but if i somehow loose her I'm gonna be screwed in against the fairy squad because i don't think Hephaestus can solo that)

soo... anyway see you (hopefully) tomorrow for the Fairy squad...

RIP

Themis the Oinkologne (lvl 2-36)

Persephone the Bramblin (lvl 26-39)

Athena the Primeape (lvl 15-41)

Amphitrite the Finizen (lvl 39-49)

#Jeanne plays #Jeanne Plays Pokemon #Jeanne plays Pokemon Scarlet #pokemon scarlet #pokemon scarlet spoilers #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarlet and violet spoilers #pokemon S/V #pokemon S/V spoilers #Pokemon Scarlet Nuzlocke #nuzlocke

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nightowlwriting · 3 years

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summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

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mysticalrambling · 3 years

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Ending It All Part 2 (C.E)

A/N: Here you go guys. Much awaited part 2 is here. I am so in love with this particular fan fiction and hope you guys like it. If you want me to write any blurbs related to this series, do let me know.I am open to requests.

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Part 1

Chris Evans Fan fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Chris regrets divorcing you and he tries to mend the relationship. However, you have already moved on with Tom Hiddleston and are quite happy. He has to just stand back while you and your children become closer to Tom and it is all his fault.

Warnings: Angst all the way.

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“Coming in?” Chris turned his face towards you with a questioning look in his eyes.

“No, I have some work. Just wanted to drop the kids off myself.” Your ex husband’s house was on your way so you just saved him a trip.

“Not even for coffee, darling?”

“Sorry but I will have to say no.” You still got flustered when he called you with nicknames. You had once decided to tell him to stop calling you with all these terms of endearment but you couldn’t build up the courage to do it.

It has been over a year since your divorce and the moment you think you are over him, he is right there to bring those feelings back. You were a mess when he moved out and you had to see him on the weekends for the kids. It looked like you were drowning and you couldn’t come up for fresh air. It was exhausting but after several months, it didn’t hurt that much. It didn’t feel like your heart was tearing into shreds. You felt numb but that was better than feeling like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“That’s fine. See you Sunday?”

These were the only few sentences that were spoken between the two of you since the divorce. This was your new normal and you were starting to adjust to it. “Yeah, bye.”

“Who wants pancakes?” Sighing, he turned around and asked in a fake, cheerful voice. He didn’t get to be disappointed. These were the the seeds that he sow and he had to reap the results.

“I do.” A collective chorus came from the living room as they had already started to play with Dodger. Dodger was adopted from a shelter home about two weeks into the divorce. Loneliness was a destructive force and Chris hadn’t come to that realization until he was sitting in his home at eight, all alone. No laughter, no mess, no companionship. He went out that day and got a new dog. The apartment was eating him alive because it was a reminder of his ‘new life’. More like his ruined life.

“Daddy, you goin’ to be there for my match?” Jace looked up at his father and hoped that he wasn’t going to say no. There have been too many occasions this past year where he was not there for his children like Easter or Mia’s first day of school. He was either too busy with his career or he couldn’t bear to be with his family knowing that he wouldn’t be going home with them. He wasn’t strong enough to handle that truth.

“I’ll be there but I have work afterwards so I can only be there for half time.” The apologetic tone was all too familiar to the kids now so they just stayed quiet.

Chris noticed their disappointed look and continued, “When I get back, we’ll go to Disneyland for the whole weekend.”

“Mommy and Tommy will be going as well?”

Stopping in between making the pancakes, he asked with a venom laced tone, “Tommy who, Jace?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We like him.” Your son continued petting the dog without realizing the damage he is doing to his father. “New friend” was always a code for boyfriend and Chris didn’t know what to do with that information.

He knew that you had gone on a few dates with Tom Hiddleston because of the paparazzi. But he didn’t know that you both were serious. Your kids knew about him so it was pretty damn serious.

“He won’t be going with us.” Speaking with finality, he resumed cooking. You were his and that was not going to change. He knew he was being unfair but when it came to you, he lost all rationality.

“But he is our new dad.” Mia whined from her place and Chris just looked at her with a wounded look. His babygirl was putting someone else in his place.

His voice boomed throughout the house and both the kids looked at him with tears in their widened eyes, “I’m your only dad. Don’t you ever say that.”

“‘m sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you mad.” Her chin wobbled and Chris was quick to realize his mistake. It was not your children’s fault. It was not your fault. It was his fault.

“Not your fault, baby. But you only have one daddy and that’s me.” Kissing her forehead, he wiped the single tear that managed to escape her blue eyes.

“’kay.” The kids got distracted again but Chris did not forget. He was still seething from the inside because Tom may have taken you away from him but he damn well couldn’t take his children.

They all get ice cream afterwards and the kids fall asleep in their rooms that Chris built from scratch. It was a lengthy process because he just kept remembering the times when he decorated their nursery with you. Such a beautiful memory and he was ruining it. The guilt ate him up inside when he realized that he may not get to ever decorate a nursery for your children again. He may not get to expand his family with you again. Again, it was his fault.

“Sorry, ‘m late. Work was hectic today.” Everything was so busy today because your boss signed up a new contract and he has been impossible to work with. You just wanted to go home and sleep for the whole week.

“It’s okay. They’re sleepin’ upstairs. Listen, we need to talk.” He was too consumed by anger and hurt to notice that you were too exhausted for everything.

“Go on.” You urged him, figuring that he might say that he won’t be able to make it to your son’s match. This was what most of your conversations were based on; him saying that he is too busy to be present at occasions related to your children.

“Why are my children referring to your boyfriend as dad?” He nothing but spat that sentence.

“I- I didn’t know about any of this. I’ll talk to them.” Stuttering, you tried to mediate the situation but nothing seemed to get through to him at the moment.

“No need. I already did that but for next time, keep your boyfriends away from my children.”

“Our children and I don’t let anyone near my children. We are serious.” You were offended by his crude tone and you weren’t just going to let him walk all over you.

“You can’t be serious with him. As a matter of fact, you can’t be serious with anyone.” Your ex husband declared it like it was a law. He didn’t know how to react to what you said. All the pain was converted into anger because that was his current form of expression.

“Are you serious?” This was all too much for you to handle. How could he say that?

“Yes. You only belong with me. I regret it so much (Y/N).” Chris’s expressions told you where he was going.

“Oh, stop. You can’t just do that. Can’t come bargin’ in my life and mess it all up again. I am happy.”

Chris reached out his hand but you took a step back. He was not allowed to touch you anymore. “I was mistaken. My career is not above you, darlin’. Never was.”

“You made me feel worthless. You made me feel as if I was the reason our marriage ended. Won’t allow myself to get sucked back into this relationship.”

“I know I broke our family. I tore us apart and didn’t even apologize for it properly. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” There was a stream of tears running down his face and you wanted to wipe them away but you resisted.

There were still times when you wished that you were still happily married to Chris. That you still had your perfect, little family. The divorce made you feel worthless and lonely. There were times when you couldn’t even look at your children because they were the exact replica of your ex husband. You once adored the fact that they were his carbon copy. However, now you couldn’t help but get angry. How could he leave little pieces of himself behind and think that you could move on with your life.

It was all because you were with another man. He never said all these things when you were alone and you suffered from depression. There were days when you couldn’t get out of bed to get your kids ready for school. You knew that Jace had informed him because he was really worried about you and he always shared his troubling thoughts with Chris. But he didn’t do anything about it. He stayed quiet and you had to pull all the pieces back together yourself. It was all tape and glue. Your ex husband didn’t get to come back and dismantle your progress. You wouldn’t let him.

“You can’t do this. Can’t come back. I am with Tom now so stop trying to fix things that you already broke.” Your face was red with anger and all the energy was drained out of your body.

“Please, just give me a chance.”

“No!” You couldn’t choose Chris again. You had to choose yourself. You chose to think about your needs and your feelings for the first time in seven years. That’s why you agreed to go on a date with Tom. He surpassed your expectations the first time and you knew that he could be your partner. No one could compare to Chris but Tom made his own place in your heart and you were glad about it. You continued on, “Tom is good for me so please don’t ruin my happiness again.”

Tom was great. He was good with the kids and he was slowly becoming an integral part of your life. You still missed Chris because that man was the love of your life for seven years and those feelings can’t just disappear with a single piece of paper. You were glad to have Tom in your life and you knew that as time would pass, you will love him with your whole heart. However, a small part of you would never forget Chris and would always wonder about the what ifs. What if you were still together? What if you had more children? What it you got to grow old together? Broken dreams are what hurts the most.

“I don’t want to be a cause of that. Not again. But I want to make things right.” He unintentionally came closer to you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Sorry I wasn’t there for our kids. Sorry that I broke you, baby.”

“A sorry doesn’t fix anything.” His chest was hallowing from inside out but he didn’t want to back down. Not now. Not ever.

“Just answer one question for me. Are you truly happy?” A tremble was prominent in his voice but you tried to ignore it.

“I-I am. For a long time, I wasn’t but I am now.” You spoke with such conviction that he knew you were over him.

You would always love Chris but now it was time for you to move on with your life. It was time to leave the past and delve into the future. Chris would always own a piece of your heart but you are going to allow Tom to have an opportunity as well. You will open your heart again to love. You were sure now.

“Okay. I will get the kids for you.” He backed off like he promised he would. You knew at that moment that it was all over.

Watching you drive away with his kids was heart breaking for him and he just watched helplessly. Chris still wanted to cry, beg and apologize. He wanted you to take him back but it was all his fault. He ruined you once, he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t interrupt your new life. It doesn’t all revolve around him but he was okay to remain on the sidelines while you enjoy your life. He will be there for you if you needed him.

You are happy and that should be enough for him but he wants to be selfish again. He wants to fight for you but it’s all too late. You were with someone else. He lost his chance.

Wednesday rolled in pretty quickly and Chris dreaded going to the match. You were going to be there with your new boyfriend but he didn’t want to miss his son’s game. He could only be there till half time already so it wouldn’t be that awkward.

“I just wanted to be here for Jace. Won’t cause any problems.” Chris took a seat beside Mia when he saw you shifting uncomfortably. The seat that should have belonged to him was currently being occupied by your boyfriend but Chris just bottled up all his feelings. It was not right to still think of you as his wife.

“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about everything.” You wanted to move on and did not want anything to hold you back.

“Okay. Mia, you want Kit Kat?” Offering her a large chocolate bar, he started talking with his daughter so that he could distract himself from you and Tom.

“What is happening, love?” Tom questioned when he saw that his former co-star did not even glance at him properly.

Chris and Tom were not the best of buds but they were still good acquaintances. He thought that dating you wouldn’t be a problem because Scarlett had informed him that Chris was the one who asked for divorce. However, this situation made him realize that Chris was jealous. He still had feelings for you and Tom didn’t know how to react to that.

“Nothing of importance. Let’s just focus on my baby boy.” Saying that, you cheered for Jace as he made his first goal. He was an exceptional player like his father and you knew that he would pursue football as his career. Jace was really passionate about football. If Chris didn’t become an actor then he would have definitely tried out for football.

There were times when he used to take you to the park so you would play with him. It was your thing. Maybe he had replaced you with someone by now as well but what you didn’t know was that Chris had stopped playing football altogether. Like many things in his life, it reminded him of you and it was just too much to bear.

“You are doing great, buddy.”Jace immediately asked Chris to pick him up as you gave him his Captain America water bottle. It was half time and Chris had to leave for shooting. He was getting late but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Thank you, mommy. Ollie doesn’t listen to me that much so coach is angry at him.” Babbling on, he rested his head on his father’s shoulder.

“Okay, buddy. I have to leave now but I will call you when your game is finished.”

“Won’t be going with us to Chick-fil-A?”

“Uhh-” He cluelessly glanced at you because he didn’t know what his son was talking about.

“I wanted to give him a treat after the match.” Tom butted into the conversation to prove that he was a part of the kid’s lives as well.

Chris could have actually made it to the restaurant because he would be free in an hour tops. However, he decided against it. He had to take a step back for you. Of course, he would be there for his children but Tom should be given a fair chance as well.

“I won’t be able to make it buddy. You enjoy with Mommy and Tom. I’ll take you and Mia to Disneyland this weekend as I promised.”

“Okay, daddy. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” Giving him to you, he turned to leave. It was hard for him to do this but it had to be done. Chris wiped his eyes discreetly as he saw you all laughing together. This was his fault and he would have to bear the consequences.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

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A/N: This story had me in tears from the very start. I cried when I was writing it. Again, I am open to blurbs for this series and other requests. Tell me if you want to be added to my tag list.

Tag list: @peculiarpenman, @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @iguessweallcrazyithinktho, @jessyballet, @caanyoonmoon, @coldmuffinpartycloud, @marvelfansworld, @agnesk, @lauracontisstuff, @deepintothenature, @xcaptain-winterx, @nostxlgia18, @sophiaedits , @luckyladycreator2, @mrspeacem1nusone

Like, comment and reblog.

P.S. If you want blurbs and epilogue related to this series, please send in requests. I will need some ideas.

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629 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 3 years

Note

lunchbox koo first time ughhh it’ll be so cute >< jungkook is shy but after the first time he gets freaky and gets more confident regarding that

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

it’s stem koo’s first time, and he could cry in bliss just knowing that it’s with you — it would always be you.

Jungkook thinks he shouldn't complain.

He thinks he shouldn't complain not because there isn't any room for it (plenty for it actually), but because he thinks there's nothing about it at all that's complaint-worthy and is demanding of any revision.

You're used to him complaining at this point and atleast he has the nerve to feel quite sorry, but it's just something that eats at his nerves when he wants to raise his grievance with you.

In fact, Jungkook thinks he should be grateful because after all, his so-called "problem" is something that some people would fight tooth and nail for to have.

His ears perk when you instruct him to move the full-length mirror to his right, cheeks puffing out mid-thought at the word that it stops him completely from adjusting the placement of the mirror to your liking.

“Don’t," he softly mumbles, brows knitting in the barrage of emotions he doesn't know how to dissect, “don’t call me that.”

He sees the confusion register in your face, staring down on him while you’re stood on your bed and he suddenly feels the need to back-track his words.

“Call you what?” your eyebrows furrow in recollection of everything you’ve ever said and called him for the past hour, seeing your boyfriend shy away from your glance with a childish look on his face that it sinks in eventually. “Baby?”

Jungkook cusses under his breath on how you managed to catch on so quick, putting his hand on his nape as if you were gonna eat him alive on what he’s gonna say next.

He sometimes hates himself for being so honest when it comes to you, and sometimes he hates how understanding you could be because he couldn’t predict what you’d react to him now.

“Yoongi teased me awhile ago.”

It’s a pathetically small mumble and Jungkook isn’t even sure if the words ever crossed past his lips, but he’s sure that they left him somehow because you’re laughing.

You’re full-on cackling either at him or with him and as much as it makes his lips curve at the sound of your laughter, it makes him defensive.

Defensive enough that he doesn’t realize he’s pouting because it’s his second nature, scrunching his face in the process.

“You’re not supposed to laugh. Even Jin elbowed me when you called me that.”

He's dancing around the term of endearment and he chalks it up to how he distinctly remembers Yoongi repeating it with his eyes squinted and his eyebrows wiggling, added with Seokjin's sharp elbows that made him consciously feel his ribs.

“Shouldn’t you be happy?” you tilt your head with genuine curiosity, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Don’t get me wrong, but didn’t you tell me that you wanted to be closer with them? That you want them to loosen up to you? They’re just teasing you, Jungkook.”

“Y-yeah, I did say that, you’re right,” he sheepishly admits, already aware that he was contradicting himself from the start. “I swear it could count as bullying though.”

Jungkook feels appalled for a split second before he realizes that the laugh he's given you is worthwhile, a tiny bit satisfied that his complaints atleast gave you sincere amusement.

It's in ridiculous moments like these that you realize your boyfriend tends to be a little more sensitive than the rest of the people you're accustomed to. A little more fragile, a little more eroded around the edges but it doesn't mean that he isn't any less compact at the core.

“Take it up to student affairs then.”

“Seokjin is student affairs. You’re not funny.”

The frown on his face gives you all the more reason to observe him this way — sensitive, warm, lovable.

Jungkook can't be Jin because your boyfriend would whimper at the slightest onset of an inconvenience but he'd whimper even more if he can't manage to resolve it. Meanwhile, your friend installs Ikea furniture without a manual and sleeps on it for weeks until he finds the resolve to continue trying.

Jungkook can't be Yoongi either because the former would bend over backwards and drink a mistaken order given to him, even if it means he paid extra for something he didn't want. On the other hand, the latter isn't afraid of coming straight to the counter holding your burger when you clearly said that you don't want pickles in it.

He can't be the other two people you treasure in your life and it's more than okay for you, the special distinction of how he stands within your heart already being enough.

“Alright, alright,” you wave him off, going straight to the mirror to adjust it because he's clearly too perplexed on how you just agreed with him. “I won’t ever call you baby again.”

Jungkook has no qualms with you but he certainly has one now, mouth parted at how that was too easy. How his request that he didn't even wholeheartedly mean became approved that quick.

A squeak leaves him before he knows it, looking between you and the reflection of himself.

“Well now you’re just guilt-tripping me.”

“I’m respecting your wishes,” you whisper playfully, making him gasp as he loops his arm around yours to effectively pull you closer out of panic.

“Don’t say ever,” he emphasizes and then could you see how his eyes widen at the particular word, cheeks puffed while he tries to get you to meet his eyes. “You’re never gonna call me baby? Ever?”

“Nope,” you breathlessly chuckle as you attempt to unloop your arm from his, earning yourself an even more eager pull to his direction. “Why would I? I’m just granting your wishes.”

Jungkook looks stupefied at your retort and you have an inkling in your mind that he looks like he'd actually plead with you, being unmistaken when you see his bottom lip actually quiver.

“Can I take it back?”

He hugs you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and effectively nuzzling his nose to the crook of your neck. It's a habit of his to burrow into you whenever he gets his hands on you, something you've noticed him doing to comfort himself.

You obviously don't mind it but it's something you've come to know that Jungkook doesn't even realize the effect of, not that it matters, but it's in softly domestic moments like these that it packs an extra effect.

“Call me baby again.”

He mumbles against your neck and with the way you look at his reflection, you're sure it's not out of that eager will. He's hung-up on the pet name and you're clearly hung-up on much different things.

"No."

You disagree so certainly and you're clueless that you've already uttered it out loud. It's a clear no to the things that materialized in your head out of thin air, all because of the way Jungkook nuzzles into your neck and your first thought is to give him more access.

He's oblivious to the internal conflict in your mind — oblivious to the way how there's a lump on your throat from realizing that at your point of view in front of the mirror, Jungkook engulfs you as a whole unit.

It's a weekend and the only plans you had were to buy a mirror and get takeout for lunch; simple as that. But then Yoongi caught wind of your plans, and decided that he'd come with because he reasons that he wants to see if the mirror you're buying is worthy enough because of course, it's only natural that whatever you buy is his too — or atleast because he argues that it's the law.

Then came Jin, who woke up because of Yoongi's insistent voice that if you don't let him come with you to the store, it could only mean that you don't love him anymore. Naturally, he shoots straight up from bed because he can't pass up on egging either of you. Coincidentally, it also happens that he bought a new keyring and he wants to drive to see if it would obnoxiously jangle around. Even more coincidentally, he has an extra hundred dollars in the event that the needs to add in to your budget because he wants your mirror to atleast be three feet taller than him.

You should've expected that when you replied to Jungkook's good morning message at an earlier time than you usually did, which he knows could only mean that you're running an errand, he automatically asks if he could come with and walks to your dorm even before you say yess.

It's far too hot for his usual hoodie and sweats combo that he came straight into your space without much thought of what he should wear for an errand he just only had a vague idea of — a fitted thin black shirt and black basketball shorts that cut off above his knees.

Jungkook's too oblivious with the way he has his arms around your middle, snaked snugly right below your boobs, with his face nuzzling your neck and the costly effects it has on you and your sanity.

“Why not? That’s my wish. You just told me that you’re granting mine.”

He's still fixed on gaining back his name but you're way past it, instead fixating your gaze downwards to empty your thoughts.

It's okay. It's completely and utterly okay. It's just hot, your boyfriend's wearing a different outfit, and it just happens that he's naturally clingy. He's clueless and you're not pointing it out to him that you're bothered in a way that you're certain he's not quite ready to help with.

“Pick another, Jungkook. I’ll rethink it in two business days because apparently, someone’s embarrassed of me.”

You recover fairly quickly and you don't have to shrug him off you because he detaches himself to look at you in shock, his only points of warmth on you being his hands on your shoulders while he looks at your reflection.

“W-what? I’m not! I’m just-“ he trips over his words when you look at him with a mocking raise to your brow, making him mumble in defeat. “Shy. You know I’m shy.”

“I know, bab-“ you intentionally slip up and only then could you see him scowling at your teasing, bumping your elbow to the back to lightly jab at him.

You still have your mind to purge your thoughts from and mirrors to clean, laying your point as best as you could when you suddenly push him off you with your hips, getting an offended gasp afterwards.

“I know, Jungkook. But you know that Yoongi and Jin are my friends and they’re just teasing you. You can’t whine at everything, y’know?”

“I am not whiney!”

Jungkook's eyes widen considerably, talking in a pout while he desperately defends himself from what he thinks is your most ruthless dig at him.

His eyes are still wide at you even if he waits for you to say something, anything, that would give him the peace of mind that you agree with him not being whiny at all. He's blinking every second in the fear that you'd mouth the words anytime now, but it never comes. The agreement to be in his side never comes band all he gets is your nose scrunching up at him.

“Sure you aren’t.”

You didn't know what to expect now that you've egged him further but it's definitely not him tugging your shirt towards him, making the fabric cling onto your front more than snugly as he cages you in to his chest innocently.

“Take that back."

“Jungkook,” you warn him with no real bite just yet, sending him daggers through the mirror but he doesn't relent and in fact returns your glare that's twice more stubborn.

He frowns petulantly, brows knitted together in his attempt at correction. “It’s baby.”

A breath you didn't even know you were holding leaves you in a breeze, unaware that your boyfriend's stubbornness all along is something that would knock you out of breath.

You try to ignore how Jungkook easily pulled you into him without much thought, only to possessively embrace you into his hold — all of that done out of pure innocence, just because you agreed to not call him baby.

“Do you know what you did just now?”

His wide curious eyes later turned into realization, hand scrambling to cover your mouth for what you're gonna point out next but you get it out even before he could.

“You just whined.”

Jungkook audibly groans to your ear and you have to close your eyes just to stop thinking full-time, not wanting your mind to wander to the other scenarios that would pull out such a guttural sound out of him once or rather several more.

He frowns and you're unfazed because you're used to him doing so when he doesn't get what he wants, edging you to the thought that he's really quite the stubborn one out of the two of you. The clingier, stubborn, and more eager one in the relationship.

Jungkook stands up fully and just when you think that he's letting go off you, his arms bend at the elbows and proceed to level them underneath your armpits — poised in a position as if he's holding you back and keeping you still while he looks at you in the mirror but of course; he's clueless.

You try to keep your thoughts at bay but it's beyond hard knowing that he keeps feeding into them without knowing, not being able to resist either when you break out of his hold to get out of such an enticing position you've once seen in your dreams, making him tumble back a little with a pout.

"Move away a little."

He doesn't take your dismissal to heart because he sees you pulling up a chair in front of the mirror, standing on top of it to hang the crochet heart Jin made for you.

Did you plan to put up the powder blue crochet heart on top of your mirror? Yes. Did you really need to do it now? Not at all, but you felt it was necessary to buffer your impure thoughts into focusing on a wholesome and handmade craft your friend gave you.

You think it's helping because it's immediately removing your attention on how delectable your boyfriend looks and instead refocus it onto sticking it up as even and as proportional as you could. What doesn't help, is that Jungkook's first instinct upon seeing you stand up on a chair is to put his hands on your waist tightly.

His hands are large and pretty and warm and it makes you cuss underneath your breath of how this is the second time the vision of him holding you up appears, the plan of clearing your thoughts immediately backfiring.

“I can make another wish, right?”

“If it makes you whine less, sure.”

You reply almost immediately, relieved that he's talking and deviating the conversation into somewhere else. His whines always seep into the back of your head and as much as you'd want to hear them, the timing of it all doesn't match up.

You're just about to pry his hands off from your waist but it doesn't happen because Jungkook holds you even more tightly than before, a heavy breath leaving him that it has you glancing at his reflection in the mirror.

“Take my virginity.”

Jungkook doesn't hesitate thinking twice that he's caught you off-guard because you make no move in hiding your surprise, the crochet heart you were in the verge of sticking onto the wall with mounting tape already falling unceremoniously.

His eyes widen when there's an impalpable silence that consumes the both of you but he doesn't find himself wanting to take the words back, completely confused when you step down to the ground with no hesitation.

“Give me my first time.”

He makes it clear by saying it again, strengthening what he's just said seconds ago but it feels like it's been hours since your face is indifferent, nonchalant even as you sit on the edge of your bed to open your phone.

“Don’t just say that.”

He hears you grit through your teeth and Jungkook fears that he's offended you for a second, although he doesn't find any hint of it on your face that remains the same. You look unbothered just as usual and not as if he just asked you to fuck him — he thought he'd get a bigger and perhaps more loving reaction than what you're giving him now.

“But I mean it — I do want it,” he explains sincerely, plucking your phone from your fingers and tossing it behind you, earning a squawk in return. “But not unless you don’t want to.”

Jungkook's voice becomes small and becomes regretful that he just snatched your phone away from you because initially, he just did it to get you to look at him and not avoid eye contact! But here he is, the little stunt he pulled already biting him in the ass.

You look up at him and it's unlike of him to be the one to shy away from all the gazing he does at you, already knowing that he feels touchy at the moment. He's pretty just like you've realized before; defined and soft at the same time, his faded blonde hair longer as they reach past his ears and are tucked behind them, his eyes more visible since he's taken off his glasses and perched them on your vanity just minutes ago.

“Of course I want to,” your voice is as gentle and as soothing it could be, instantly garnering the attention of your boyfriend who's standing in front of you. “It’s just that I don’t want you to feel obligated because you’re with me.”

It's true and you mean it wholeheartedly, comprising the majority of the reasons why you always try to tone down the mature thoughts you have regarding your boyfriend because it feels intrusive almost, even if he's boldly told you about the thoughts he had of you before.

It's internalized pressure you always try to contain because you can't exactly tell Jin nor Yoongi how much you want your boyfriend to fuck and do the likes with you, knowing that it would invite even more pressure into your mind.

Jungkook's heart expands twofold at the consideration you always have for him, eyes bulging as he desperately shuts down the concern you have for him.

“I’m completely sure, I promise.”

He bobs his head up and down in lightning speed and his hands automatically reach out for you to take, wanting you to pull him down on the bed, but you apparently don't do it quick enough which is why he immediately sits down beside you and places you on his lap instead. "Never been more sure ever than right now, I'm telling you."

Your laugh gets cut short because he puts his hand behind your head and pulls you close fervently, kissing you like he means it that you're pleasantly surprised when he immediately manages to take control, drawing out a moan from him when you happily cooperate.

You've always known that Jungkook's an attentive lover; always keen and eager and trying to please. He's giddy and vocal and it crosses your mind that you're all he's ever known when it comes to this, the realization of the fact giving more warmth to you than you initially thought it would.

Jungkook makes you tilt your head so he could kiss you deeper and it doesn't make him glaze over the fact that he doesn't want you to strain your neck, his hand affectionately cupping your nape while your hands get busy trying to get his shirt over and off him, feeling the warmth of his hand on your exposed skin.

"How do I-" he whispers, grunting particularly when you grind on his clothed cock that's straining through his basketball shorts, "how do we do this?"

He feels an unmeasurable heat within and he knows he can't chalk it up to the weather this time, but rather, he'd point it out to you who's grinding on him as your hips rut forward, the warmth of your center slowly bleeding into his own because your shorts are thin and he could make himself silly just trying to imagine you bare.

“It’s your first time, Koo,” you scratch lightly in circles on his back, turning him over the edge more than it does to soothe him. “I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook's eyes prick at your promise and he finds his mouth falling open because not soon after your assurance, you undress right in front of him without hesitation, instantly finding religion in the silent worship he gives you with his eyes.

“I think I’m gonna cum already.”

The words tumble out of him without filter and it makes you snort mid-way in making him shimmy out of his shorts, cock springing up to his tummy that he feels almost embarrassed under your watchful gaze.

“Save it,” you stifle giggles at his candidness but it became his turn to stop breathing when you sit on his thighs, eyes wide in realization that the two of you are so close and the fact alone makes him want to explode.

Jungkook's vow of speechlessness becomes void the moment your hand pumps his desperately pink and throbbing member, mewling into your kiss that makes his eyes squint in pleasure.

His hands dig into your hips and you relish with the way he kneads it like he's learned how to when he massages your neck when you're buried in schoolwork and it's the only thing he could do to help you out because you're in your senior year and he has no clue when he squints at your textbooks. There's eager intention with how he kneads the flesh, his neatly-trimmed nails leaving marks when you squeeze his cock a little too tight.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, am I? I read somewhere that it can hurt sometimes.”

Jungkook speaks the moment he feels you slowing down with your ministrations, figuring out that this is the part when it actually happens and it makes you smile unexpectedly.

He's humble and there's no cockiness behind it (even if next time you want him to own up just rightfully), just full of worry in theory and soon in practice because after all, you are his first.

“You’re big, Jungkook,” you mumble to his lips and he doesn't know how to take what you've just said, the worry leaving his face when you press your lips to him to calm his worries. “But it’s okay. It’s just gonna be a bit of a stretch for me, while it’s gonna be tight for you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you,” he's looking up at you with innocent eyes and the intimacy in it almost knocks you out of breath, a chuckle leaving your lips.

“You’re not,” you assure him sincerely, the thought of having it otherwise next time making your tongue poke your cheek in thought, shaking the thought away in the meantime as you runs your hands down his arms. “If it makes you feel better, you can stretch me out first.”

“Yes please.”

Jungkook nods and eagerly heeds your suggestion to satisfy his qualms, licking his lips when he looks down at you because you're practically dripping and he could feel the wetness sticking into his inner thighs.

He feels your lips on his neck as you let him get lost looking at your pussy, his breathing evidently getting heavy until you let him fuck you with his eyes enough, disrupting the static in his head.

“There. Put a finger in me.”

Jungkook's eyes widen at the bluntness of your words, his hand brushing accidentally to your inner thigh that it makes you exhale loudly. “I just put it in?”

The comical gaze he's fixed on you makes you snicker, humming a tune while he barely blinks.

“Well you fuck with me it for awhile, but yes, Koo. You put it in me as the first step.”

Jungkook blushes and he avoids mulling over the stupid question he's just asked that should've been rhetoric by now because for fuck's sake, the last time the two of you were in bed, he did eat the cum out of you while you were still in your shorts.

He wastes no time and inserts his finger into your dripping hole, seeing his finger disappear seamlessly, engulfed in your tight warm walls that the sight makes the lump in his throat hard to swallow.

The intrusion of his middle finger as he plunges the entirety of it makes you throw your head back at the sensation you haven't quite achieved in the past few months by yourself, clenching around the digit in bliss.

“B-but you’re so tight."

He stutters when you clench around his finger once more, experimenting in pulling it out until only the tip of his digit is in you and plunges it back again, a heedy moan escaping you with no remorse. “Fuck.”

You lift your hips to sink down on his finger and it makes him realize that he's sat frozen at the thought of how your pussy is so tight and he finds it overwhelmingly pleasurable even if it's just his finger in you, finding it within him to come to his senses and thrust it upwards when you didn’t expect it.

“Imagine it’s your cock in me,” you mutter in between moans when he experiments with ramming his digit into you faster, withdrawing a fucked-out whine when he unintentionally hooks it upward. “Feels like this but it’s much much better.”

Jungkook whines from your words alone because the thought itself makes him salivate, adding another digit into your pussy as he looks down to how it stretches and accommodates them snuggle, pointing them curved inwards that you instantly rub yourself around his fingers in small circles.

He keeps focused as he tries to draw more of the sounds you give him, egging him on to fuck you harder with his fingers because the way you moan his name is a reward within itself.

“You ready?”

In his selfless attempt at pleasuring you, Jungkook didn't realize that your hand's holding his wrist in place to keep it still, not even sure at all if he's made you cum already because his head's clouded with pleasure from giving you your own.

His eyes are dilated and focused entirely on you, watching your every move as you ease off from his fingers, holding his digits like he's never seen them before and sees them glistening with your essence — and Jungkook finds himself popping them into his mouth, moaning in ecstasy at a full taste of you.

The sight's enough to make your eyes widen, clenching around nothing when you see your boyfriend lapping up at his fingers to taste every last bit of you as if you aren't in front of him.

“You’re too precious,” you kiss the corner of his mouth that’s glossy with the taste of you and he hums in contentment with it, eyes shifting open when you pull away and you stand up from your seat on his thighs.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn't hide the panic in his voice at all and you want him to get rid of it entirely because you're not going anywhere, looking back at him as he gets back to his sense on how you're literally just five feet away from him.

“This is the part where you come with me,” you nudge him with a tilt of your head, a blush dusting his cheeks because he panicked for no reason. He stands up attentively, walking to where you stand right beside the chair you've just stood up on minutes ago. “Sit.”

Jungkook doesn't complain but he finds himself confused while he complies either way, looking back to the bed that he thought would be in use just like all the prior knowledge he's seen in the media he's consumed.

“I’ll ride you first,” you say and he effectively catches his attention, head whipping up to you. “Told you I was gonna take care of you, right?”

It's only then that it clicks in Jungkook's mind that he's sitting on a chair in front of the mirror because you're gonna ride him, the dots connecting as he's never realized that his impromptu request of you taking his virginity would end up in front of the very thing that got him coming over to your dorm today in the first place.

He's excited and he can't understand why you can't just ride him right now, your eyes flickering as if you're looking for something that he just now realizes.

“Are you looking for a condom?”

“Yeah,” you nod with amused eyes, pleasantly surprised that Jungkook noticed your silent search and even more surprised when he pipes up right after.

“I have one.”

“Since when did you carry around condoms?”

The giggle leaves you before you even realize it and Jungkook doesn't even flinch, the words leaving him determinedly and seriously that it makes him smile at the end of it.

“Since you gave me a blowjob.”

He watches your face register confusion until it turns into genuine laughter, making his mouth drop open in faux offense because you seem to not believe him. “I’m not kidding! I thought I should be ready at any moment after that.”

"You're insufferable. Where is it?"

His own chest rises in laughter when you speak in between peals of giggles, pointing to the pocket of his shorts as you walk to retrieve them.

“I went home hard that night because I literally couldn’t stop thinking. A-and I made Jimin drive me to the grocery as soon as I got home,” he winces in recollection and it makes you throw your head back when you come back to standing beside him, holding a silver packet between your fingers that his eyes glint at.

“No you did not,” you gasp in shock for what he probably made Jimin go through, although not entirely surprised because he's told you countless times that his roommate acts as a brazen older brother for him.

“I made him buy me my condoms because I was too shy to do it myself.”

“What a friend Jimin is.”

You chuckle as you put your leg over Jungkook's, getting acquainted his thighs and dangerously near his cock that it makes his reply weaken in anticipation while you're still dazed in laughter.

“You should hear when he asked me my size and I didn’t know how to determine it.”

“Oh my god,” you remark once you visualize the scene of Jimin asking your boyfriend his size in condoms, the laughter dying down as Jungkook's chest is frozen still. “I’ll kiss him on the cheek next time that I see him because he’s a saint.”

“Now don’t do that.”

He scoffs at the tiny reminder you set for yourself, rolling his eyes that later narrow when he sees a long line of your spit droop down to his member that already so wet, already slick and leaking even if you've barely done anything.

He watches you tear the packaging with nimble fingers and it reminds him how he's just practically seconds away of feeling and filling you, watching you pinch the tip of the condom before snugly fitting it on his cock.

“You take care of me so good.”

Jungkook mumbles and he says it not because you've just put on a condom for him, but because he feels the thought flash in neon lights on his head and he feels compelled to say nothing but the truth.

You kiss him on the lips for it, his eyes shutting close in sweetness when you press one more peck before pulling away.

“Tell me when it gets too much for you.”

Jungkook could never anticipate the sheer euphoria he feels at the back of his spine when you sink yourself on him achingly slow, head thrown back at the gush of newfound tightness.

His tip prods in you and once he looks down to see where your pussy stretches around him, it makes his eyes roll back sinfully, mouth parted open.

“So fucking tight.”

You sink down completely on him and that's when you feel the fullness of him that you've been craving for, stretching you into a pleasurable ache that could only be fixed as you have more of him into your pussy.

“You fill me up so good.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook moans as he feels you on the hilt of his cock, unconsciously bucking up as he maxes out his length into your pussy that makes you shudder.

“That’s the spot, baby,” you whine at his pulsating length and he mewls attentively at the return of your endearment for him, wanting to milk out your sounds as much as he could at the moment.

He's stuck on how to do because he's sure he could just sit here and cum from your warmth alone, his thoughts being interrupted when you whisper to his ears in a definite tone.

“Sit pretty while I fuck myself on you.”

You suddenly bounce on his cock and Jungkook’s tummy clenches at the feeling of you and it shows with how he moans pornographically, your warm walls clenching around him for an even tighter fit that it suffocates him in the best way possible.

His balls feel full and Jungkook has his arms around your naked waist tightly and possessively, almost as if you’d slip away when you’re holding onto his shoulders just as tight.

“You love that? Love it when I bounce up and down your cock?”

Your voice is desperately on-edge and has the slightest hint of a mock, making your boyfriend's stomach tighten as he hits an intimately soft part inside you that makes you moan just as instantly, his closer position of him leaning against his chair making his cock graze your g-spot.

“I love it so much please.”

Jungkook's overwhelmed with pleasure but it's just not enough because he wants all of it, adjusting his grip on you in a way that he can easily lift you from underneath your thighs, bouncing you down even harder as he watches your pussy embrace him completely.

His neediness rubs a part of your ego you didn't even know you possessed, sucking a hickey on his neck and he obediently gives your more access, his eyes shut close in ecstasy.

Jungkook looks beautiful underneath you as you fuck yourself onto him but it's just not enough for you, wanting to see him in entirety.

“Open your eyes, baby,” you graze your nails on the length of his spine that makes him whine in sensitivity, eyes bursting open. You briefly stop riding him that it makes him whine at the loss of contact, bending backwards to grab his glasses that's perched on your vanity. “Wear your glasses for me.”

He blinks at your through thick lashes when you put them on him, holding by the chin to kiss his jaw as you make him look at the mirror behind you, the reflection of you turned against it while he's facing the glass, legs open and cock inside you as he realizes that he gets to see the entirety of you in this way.

“Look at how pretty you are while you’re fucking me.”

It's the last thing he hears before you bounce on his cock harder than you ever did, throwing your hips circling around him into the mix that it pushes him closer to his impending climax.

“Moaning for me prettily too. Aren’t you a treat, hm?”

Jungkook's vocal and it's never been lost on you that he tells you exactly how he feels, no shame in being loud because it's exactly what you make him feel.

His eyes are open and his eyebrows are raised in bliss, mouth parting open as you leave open-mouthed kisses on his neck that makes him whine even harder.

His eyeglasses were barely at the brim of fogging but now they're slightly frosted, making you wipe at them in hurry to see how your boyfriend's eyes are fixed on nothing but you at the moment but that's when you see — the whole reason why they were starting to fog up anyways.

“Are you crying?” you wipe on his tears from underneath his glasses and you slow down your pace, whining in place when he pinches your ass before ramming into you from his position below because you stopped moving.

“I’m crying because you make me feel so good.”

Jungkook admits immediately and he only became conscious of the tears on his cheeks when you pointed it out, unaware of them altogether because he's so stuck in his cloud of pleasure that nothing else mattered besides you and the high you give him.

You grind on him as soon as he bottoms out, keeping yourself pressed to him that drawls a needy stutter of your name in an instant.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“ he rams extra harder into you and grinds his hips in in small circles, “-cum! I’m gonna fucking-“

Jungkook moans the loudest you've ever heard from him as he shoots his release into the condom, feeling you riding out his high that makes him sound even more guttural.

He cums loads, knowing that he has it in him that his own high gives you your own not shortly after, the extra warmth enveloping his member that makes him whine in overstimulation.

He's sweaty with his head tilted back in the chair, his hair damp and his neck wet as he hears you chuckle, snapping him back to reality as he pulls you to his sweaty chest while he’s still inside of you.

“Hmm, are you okay? Do you want some water?” you check up on him amidst being in quite of a pant yourself. “I have some Gatorade in the fridge, I think. It’s for my next game but you can have it.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, pinching your side at the sound of you teasing him as you've literally just finished giving him his first and most mind-blowing orgasm he's ever had.

“Again?”

He toothily grins as he exhales, making you roll your eyes while he waits in patience.

“Catch your breath first, Jungkook.”

“I am, I am! Give me like two minutes and after that, we can fuck again, right?”

The transparent anticipation on his tone makes you coo at him, scratching his hair that makes him hum in contentment.

“Do you have any more condoms?”

What was supposed to be an innocent and genuine question makes Jungkook suddenly straighten up on his seat, almost making you fall backwards if he hadn't secured a hand on the small of your back.

His eyes widen comically, his cheeks reddening in recollection.

“When Jimin drove me to the grocery that night I uh, I used my debit card because all the bills I had were too big for the regular packs.”

“Jungkook...” you mumble his name and then could he hear the tone that basically inquired him on what the hell did he do, making him sheepishly look at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.

“A-and I didn’t want the cashier to hate me, nor Jimin because I made him buy them, because it was night and the cash registers were already probably collected and they didn’t have change.”

“Jungkook, oh my god...”

You should’ve noticed the way Jungkook’s backpack crinkles, or why the front pocket must be bulging even if he explains that he barely puts stuff in it because it's easily the most stealable portion of anyone's bag.

It explains why Jin once thought that he was hiding a tinfoil lunch in there one time when he walked into your dorm, not finding any reason for him to pack a lunch when you automatically make an extra portion for him when he comes over.

You make Jungkook look at you and his cheeks are bulging as he tries to hide the laughter from seeing you look beyond shocked at him, knowing that your boyfriend's considerate but not to this level.

“I bought a whole tray.”

and at last here it is!! stem koo's first time :D we've finally come to this peak besties omg if you've been here sometime when the chronological series was on-going, you'd know how this moment is ultimately monumental <3

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

#stem koo #stem koo misc.#jungkook smut #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook oneshots #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook fic rec

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seriouslysnape · 3 years

Text

Under the Radar

Severus Snape x Fem! Professor! Reader

Warnings: None.

Request: hiii can I request a husband Severus Snape x wife reader. The reader is a professor in Hogwarts they don't want the students to know so they kept it a secret. And the Weasley twins are the first to know. (the Weasley twins are close to reader since she's kind thanks.) and you can continue it your own way. (灬º‿º灬)♡

Word Count: 2,014

“That is true, but we both knew that couldn’t last forever,”

“You have class in fifteen minutes, Severus.” You nagged at your husband who was still sprawled out in bed.

A groggy chuckle escaped from the man as he finally sat up on his elbows to look at you, watching as you hurried to get dressed before you were horribly late.

“So do you, love.” He countered.

“Yes, but I’m almost ready,” You argued with a slight roll of your eyes; “And you are not.”

“It doesn’t take me long. You know this.” He bantered.

It was true after all. Severus didn’t put that much effort into getting ready everyday. Pants, robes, shoes, and MAYBE brush his hair. That was the morning routine of Severus Snape. You were a bit more refined, taking time to pick out an outfit and making yourself look presentable to your personal standards.

“I know, but do you really want your Potions classroom unattended with a bunch of Slytherins and Gryffindors?” You grinned, knowing that they’d wreak havoc sooner or later.

Severus groaned at the thought. It wouldn’t have been the first time where he walked in at the last minute to stop Ron Weasley from throwing a cauldron at Draco Malfoy’s head. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, padding to his closet where you stood as well.

“One of these days, I’ll get a morning of peace and have you for myself.” He grumbled.

You gave a mocking, sympathetic pout at your mumbling husband. You took his face into your hands, drumming your fingers playfully along his cheeks.

“Poor baby. Because you NEVER get any time with me.” You said with a tone thick with sarcasm.

Severus huffed, but his arms snaked around your waist.

“Is it so wrong to want a quiet morning with my wife?” He questioned.

Severus had a point. It had been quite some time since the two of you had the opportunity to sleep in, to drown out the world until the two of you felt ready to brave it together. He missed waking you up by peppering you with lazy kisses and soft, sweet mumbles in your ear. Life had just gotten so busy that things weren’t exactly what he would consider standard for the two of you.

It also didn’t help that outside of your private bedroom, you weren’t exactly a public couple. Aside from the faculty and staff of Hogwarts, none of the students had any knowledge of yours and Severus’ marriage. It had been a mutual decision, considering that neither of you were sure you wanted all the kids knowing that two professors were married to one another. While your last name had legally been changed to Snape, you were always referred to by your maiden name. As far as the students knew, you and Severus hadn’t even ever had a conversation, let alone tied the knot almost three years ago.

“I know, Sev. I’ll tell you what. I’ll clear my schedule for tomorrow since it’s Saturday. We can sleep in...” You said, lowering your voice to a whisper in his ear; “And I’ll be all yours all day.”

The way that his eyes lit up made your heart leap. He kissed you excitedly, your laugh muffled under the kiss. Despite the fact that you had a ten minute head start, Severus still managed to be ready before you, stealing another quick kiss before he was out the door en route to the dungeons.

Your classes went smoothly as usual. The students were peppy with energy since it was Friday, but their focuses were very in tune with your lessons for the day. You had returned to your office after classes to do some fast grading before giving in to the weekend. Most of the students had returned to their dorms to have some down time before getting into their weekend shenanigans. However, it seemed that your biggest fans were even more boisterous than usual.

Your office door swung open rather abruptly, causing you to flinch and grab at your chest in alarm.

“Hi, Professor!” Fred Weasley screeched.

“Hey, Professor [Y/N]!” George echoed.

The red-headed twins were (without a doubt) very fond of you. Your personality just seemed to mix well with theirs, and you were always willing to take time out of your day to chat with them. You were usually one of the first to know about their daring pranks, always having to fake your surprise when they actually did them.

“Hi, boys.” You greeted with a smile.

It wasn’t at all uncommon for students to come by your office during the day. Usually it was because they had a concern about their performance in your class or confusion on an assignment. With the Weasley twins, though, they always came by just because they felt like it.

“Grading on a Friday?” Fred acquired, plopping down into one of the chairs in front of your desk.

George tutted, eyeing over the stack of tests on your desk.

“It’s a shame. You should be out getting knackered at The Three Broomsticks with McGonagall.” George said, scanning nosily over the objects on your bookshelf.

You snorted, resuming your grading.

“I’ll leave the heavy imbibing to the two of you. The day that I see Minerva McGonagall getting hammered at a bar will be the day that I become a Legilimens.” You replied.

George and Fred snickered, continuing to talk your ears off while they snooped around. You never minded their company, as long as they didn’t stop your grading progress. You didn’t notice when the two of them went quiet. You also didn’t notice when George silently called for his brother to join him across the room.

Fred got up from his seat to see what George had found, his eyes practically bugging out of his head when he saw what it was. You had a habit of leaving your stuff laying around random areas of your office, so sometimes little hints of your relationship with Severus were out in the open for anyone to see. However, George and Fred were the only people on the planet who would actually find anything.

On one of your bookshelves rested an empty, opened envelope. It was a letter from a pen pal friend of yours that you had lost physical contact with after you graduated from Hogwarts. However, the kicker was that the addressed name on the front wasn’t what the twins would have expected to see.

It was addressed to you, using your married name.

George and Fred looked at each other with quizzical expressions. Why in the world would you have something addressed to you with Snape’s last name? George and Fred had this weird, telepathic twin communication thing that always freaked you out. They could sort out a problem or have a conversation without ever saying anything.

Their puzzled looks faded into realization when they sorted it out. They almost couldn’t believe it. Severus Snape married to one of the friendliest, nicest professors? It was shocking...but it did make sense.

You always wore a wedding ring on your left hand, but no one seemed to know who the lucky guy was. You were very private about your personal life.

Fred pocketed the envelope, and George announced their exit.

“Lovely to see you as always.” He said, holding down his giggle.

“Yeah, we’ll see you Monday, Professor.” Fred added on, ushering his brother out before either of them could blow it.

You gave them a friendly wave as they left, still clueless to the fact that they had found out your secret.

Monday morning rolled around (after Severus’ promised Saturday morning in) once again, and another week had begun. It didn’t take long for you to notice that something was odd.

Students all day had been acting strangely. Their quiet whispers and sneaky giggles when they passed by you in the corridors were definitely suspicious. You couldn’t get them to pay attention in class for the life of you, all of them clearly preoccupied.

“Draco Malfoy,” You snapped, hands on your hips; “Just what are you laughing about now?”

Draco’s laughter stopped, but his amused smile never left his face. This was the third time today that you had gotten on to him for disrupting class, him and Crabbe chuckling on and off about something.

“Nothing, nothing.” Draco replied, still chortling under his breath.

You sighed out heavily. All of the kids were testing your nerves today.

“If I hear any more interruptions from you, I’ll have to give you detention,” You scolded, but in a calm tone; “Do you understand?”

Draco nodded, waiting until your back turned to the board again before he responded.

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

Your writing stopped, the entire classroom bursting into hushed laughter. You turned to face the young Malfoy, his cheeks flushed as he and Crabbe failed to contain their laughter any longer. It was obvious now that the whispers and weird glances were due to the fact that they knew. Somehow, they had found out.

“Professor [L/N].” You corrected.

“Hmm, but technically you’re Professor Snape.” He hummed.

You bit your cheek in thought. If they knew, there wasn’t any sense in denying it. But you were curious as to how this started.

“Draco, how did you all find out?” You questioned.

He shrugged with a smirk.

“I heard it from Pansy.” He admitted.

You looked to Pansy.

“Blaise told me.” She confessed.

You followed the trail of names and who-told-who until it stemmed back to the original perpetrators. Two suspects that you should have figured long ago.

“The twins. Of course.” You sighed.

The students had questions (and a lot of them), curious to know how long and how it had happened. Most of them were just stunned that Severus Snape actually had a life outside of his classroom. A life with someone like YOU nonetheless.

You were fidgety to talk to Severus about it. You were curious to see how he’d react and how this would change the way the two of you interacted during the school year. After all, it was kind of your fault for leaving your stuff around.

“Were the students acting peculiar to you today?” Severus asked, breaking you from your thoughtful daze.

Your gaze snapped up from your dinner plate as you peered at him with a fluttery belly.

“Peculiar how?” You asked.

“They all seemed mischievous. As if they knew something they weren’t supposed to.” Severus claimed, looking at you as if he already knew the reason why.

“Well, now that you mention it...they sort of know about us...that we’re married.” You confessed.

Truthfully, Severus didn’t care that much if the student body knew. It was inevitable that they’d all find out eventually, but he was interested to hear how exactly the cat was let out of the bag.

“They ‘sort of’ know?” He questioned, clearly amused; “How’s that?”

You sucked in a breath.

“The Weasley twins might’ve figured it out. They’re smart, Sev. Much smarter than you give them credit for,” You babbled; “It’s not their fault. I shouldn’t have-”

“Stop, stop,” He cut you off with a soft smile; “You don’t think I’m mad about this, do you?”

Your shoulders relaxed at his gentle tone, but your eyes remained wide.

“It’s just that we...always wanted to keep it a secret.” You reminded him.

His head nodded and he set his fork down to give you his full attention.

“That is true, but we both knew that couldn’t last forever,” Severus pointed out; “I could never keep you hidden away forever.”

Your cheeks burned at his compliment, your smile beaming at him. He nudged your foot under the table. It was a wondrous thought to think about how different (or not) things would be now that they knew.

“I’m afraid I’ll still have to keep my maiden name. To avoid confusion.” You stated.

“Of course. Just as long as you’re still my Mrs. Snape.” He grinned with a wink.

You returned with a laugh, prompting the end of the lighthearted conversation.

“That I can definitely promise.”

#severus snape #severus snape x you #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x reader #severus #severus snape x female reader #severus snape fluff #severus snape imagine #severus snape oneshot #severus snape x professor #seriouslysnape

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moemammon · 3 years

Note

When I was in High School, my crush and I got into a fight and neither of us were talking to each other. One day I was headed up the stairwell to get to my science class, when I saw them coming up from behind... I don't think they had even noticed me yet considering that they were busy talking to their friend BUT I am slow going up stairs so even if I rushed up the stairs roadrunner style they would have caught up to me, well; the little corner that connects the steps going up to the second floor and the steps heading down to the ground floor had a large open window... and I jumped out, like I literally just jumped out. I didn't even think it through, I just saw the window and my body was like "Yep, IK what to do." I landed on a bush or tree? It's too big to call a bush but too small to call a tree, landed in a squat before my feet gave out and I fall onto my knees and got two large grass stains on my jeans knee part, couldn't walk right either after that landing, I was shaky all day lol but it was a risk well calculated bc the whole thing would have been so awkward. I mean we used to be like BFFS before the rumors began and then they started and we just stopped talking without warning, we couldn't even look at each other. Our science partners, bc we were in groups of four, literally got fed up of our bullshit bc we literally refused to acknowledge the others existence... anyway, I digress...

Anyway, this whole story is a long winded way of me requesting how the brothers would react to an MC that literally just jumps out windows to avoid awkward moments, or to dodge people that want to ask them for favors, or when they straight up want to avoid someone?

And sorry about the large ass message, but thanks for letting me vent

You have a special place in my heart, window-jumping anon. Just uhhhhhhh look down next time okay? Ily

The Demon Brothers react to GN!MC jumping out of a window to avoid an awkward moment

(Mario jumping sound effect)

Lucifer

He approached you after class to ask exactly what you were snickering at your D.D.D. about during class.

Must've been real funny if you weren't listening to your lecture, huh?

"I imagine you've somehow found something worthy of laughing about in Demonology 101?"

You do not have the guts to tell him that you and Mammon were texting back and forth, abusing a new photo editing app to alter pictures of the eldest himself.

I mean, take a wild guess about how he’d react to seeing how big you edited his head to be-

The avatar of pride lets his eyes pierce into you, like he's trying to stare a hole through your blanket of "uh"s and "um"s,

You don't exactly see a way out of this one, but you can NOT let Lucifer see your photo gallery.

So you glance to your left to the open classroom window, and do the only thing you can think of: you jump.

Luckily you're on the ground floor so you??? really didn't have to jump so dramatically. But the fact that you yeeted yourself into a bush JUST to escape has left Lucifer speechless.

Honestly? He so impressed with your dedication that he's not gonna stop you. Besides, he's gonna see you back at home anyway so-

Also thinks you might be hanging around Mammon too much because that 100% seems like a stunt he’d pull.

Mammon

GIVE GOLDIE BACK RIGHT NOW

He KNOWS Lucifer told you to bring the credit card to him, and he demands to know where it's hidden! He's positive you know where it is!

But you don't really though?? You just brought the card to him like you were asked. If anything, you're the victim here!

But Mammon isn't having that. The avatar of greed is circling around you like an angry cat, patting you all over like airport security to see if you've got his beloved card.

"Where is it, huh?! Ya really think you can steal from THE Mammon?! Even if Lucifer told ya to, who do ya think you are?!"

When he has confirmed that you don't in fact have his previous Goldie, he's now cornering you up against a wall.

If looks could kill, you would've exploded into a fine powder

And you feel like your mental strength is about to do just that. So what do you do after you notices the slightest of breezes caress your face?

You jump outta that open window, before Mammon can even finish his "Wh- Oi! What're ya-"

Even though you just face planted into the garden, you're up on your feet and making a mad dash for somewhere that wasn't here.

Mammon lets you run for ten while seconds before he's hopping out after you. You think you can outfox the Great Mammon?! Think again!!!

Levi

You... weren't interested in this movie in the slightest, but you didn't have the heart to tell Levi that. Especially not after he’d begged/harassed you for the past week about watching it with him!

Reluctantly you agreed, and now you were suffering,,,But Levi was ecstatic! This movie was a classic! Sure it was an old one and the acting was a little bad, but you could overlook that if you watched it with your heart, not your eyes!

According to Levi.

You managed to keep your eyes open for the grueling one and a half hour movie, enduring every corny line of bad acting, horrible CGI, and lame sound effects straight out of a 90s super hero movie, and now the hell was finally over...

Or so you though, until Levi followed that up by immediately pulling out a cosplay outfit worn by one of the supporting characters in the show.

Funny how it seemed specifically tailored to your measurements. Even funnier how Levi was looking at you with those damned eyes.

You knew what he wanted without him even having to say it. But one look at the gaudy outfit he presented to you made your heart burn with a sudden indescribable urge.... to escape.

Honestly you caught him so off guard by suddenly getting up and sprinting out of the room, that he makes a sound that's pretty much the noise equivalent of "?!?!?!?!?!?"

He watches you run down to the end of the hall, throw the window open, and fuckin JUMP. Pretty sure he just witnessed your death??

Also this kinda solidified his 'gross otaku' mentality, seeing as you literally jumped out of a window to get out of cosplaying with him. A simple no would've sufficed, MC.......,.,,..,,,

Hey gamers... can we get an F in the chat? 😔✌️💦

Satan

Satan lent you a book to read last week that he was sure you'd be interested in! He found it pretty interesting himself, so he wants to see if you'd like it as much as he did.

That being said, you don't have the heart to tell him that you,,, didn't read any of it. Well you kind of did, if the cover counts for anything.

You doubt he would accept that as an answer, considering how you told him how much you appreciated receiving the book, and how you'd definitely read it and let him know how it was.

So now, Satan had come into your room with two cups of tea, ready to settle down and have a nice, long talk about your thoughts on the riveting plot that you promised you would indulge in.

"I'm really glad you decided to read it. I found that the protagonist reminded me a lot like you. I'd like to know what you thought about it."

Satan sets down the tea cups, and one sip tells you that he brewed it exactly the way you like.

His expression is eager and warm as he waits for you to begin gushing about just how deeply the story touched you... how absolutely moved you are by the sheer majesty that was the book he lent you...

Okay yeah, you're sweating bullets. You can't imagine how the sparkly eyed avatar of wrath would react to learning that you chose the company of your D.D.D. over Satan's book.

You don't have such an ice cold hard that you can just crush this book nerds dreams like that! And every time you look at his expectant face, the weight of your crimes weigh heavier on you until... you break.

Satan watches in shock and awe as you almost perfectly reenact the big scene where the main character leaps out of the window of a building rigged to explode, before making their escape. And you did just that.

Wow.. he never thought you could be so moved by a story, but he completely understands...

Asmo

How many outfits, Asmo. HOW MANY OUTFTITS WILL IT TAKE TO APPEASE YOU?

He's made you model TWELVE outfits so far, and you swear if you see another ascot, you're gonna lose your mind.

Asmodeus doesn't seem to notice the way the light slowly fades from your eyes, because he's pulling out outfit number thirteen with that cheery smile of his.

"Isn't this one absolutely adorable? Look, this part will look lovely around your waist! This part here hugs your body in all the right places, and this-"

You can't do it. You've gotta get out of here. You'd love to stand around and get mild rug burn from trying on a billion different clothes, but-

Actually no you wouldn't.

You DID promise Asmo you'd hang out with him today, but this wasn't really your idea of a good time.

"-Oooh, just thinking about it makes me want to eat you up~! Here, put it on for me, will you? I'll give you a kiss as a reward!"

You would do no such thing.

You make a mad dash for his ornate window and push it open. He has no time to stop you as he helplessly watches you vault yourself out like the room was on fire.

"MC?! Wh-where are you going?? Come back here! Grass stains are impossible to get out of that fabric!!!"

Beel

He means well. I swear he does. It's just that Beel can be a little... overbearing when he's worried about you. He cares, okay?

But he hasn't seen you eat anything all day! You tell him it's because you've got a stomach ache from who knows what, and you promise you've had little snacks here and there to keep from starving, but he can't accept that!

Eating is important, and you need it to survive. So Beelzebub was currently trying to nudge your mouth open with a pizza slice, while you vehemently refused. "Just one bite. And then another after that. You have to eat, or you'll go hungry... and I don't want that."

Beel knows the true pain of being hungry, and he’d never wish that on you! So just forget about your stomach ache for two seconds and open up-

Not that you really can. The aroma of that pizza was not sitting well on your stomach, and you were pretty sure you needed a fast escape or you'd risk losing your lunch. Greasy foods didn't exactly mix well with sour stomachs...

Beel still won't let up. He has a strong hand planted firmly on the small of your back, as if trying to prevent you from leaning back any further in your attempt to escape the pizza.

"If you eat this, I'll treat you to dessert at Madam Screams," he says, as if bribing your refusal of food USING food will somehow work out.

You can't break his heart, but you seriously can't eat that! Your head is spinning, thoughts racing, face becoming greasier and greasier from the pizza pressed against it, and-

You snap. In a sudden burst of strength you break free from Beel's grasp, and sprint toward the nearest window. All you see is your chance for freedom, and you're taking it.

You leap out and tumble into the ground, all while Beelzebub wonders what?? Just happened???? Did you really hate pizza that much...?

He never knew you were such a picky eater... To think you'd go so far as to jump out of the window though...

Belphie

You thought it was cute at first, when Belphegor wanted you to join him for his naps. And you didn't mind much. It was the weekend, you were tired, and he makes a pretty good body pillow.

But you didn't realize he planned for this to become an everyday thing. The youngest might not act it, but he sure could be spoiled.

But seriously, if you slept any longer, you might never have a normal sleep schedule again! It never occurred to you just how often Belphie sleeps.

He's definitely not human, because there's no way you can keep up with that, and maintain a normal lifestyle.

But the way he quietly, gently grabs your sleeve to cue your next nap session makes your heart clench. Why was it so damned hard to say no to this gremlin??

You were trying your best though, but the words always seemed to get caught in your throat. Belphie picked apart your excuses, doing everything in his power to take you back to the attic.

"You can study when you wake up." "Mammon wants to go shopping? Reschedule." "Lucifer told you not to be late to the board meeting? Just hide."

You're starting to get sucked into the sleepy lull of his voice, and it feels like your entire body is becoming heavy with fatigue. But no.... you resist!

Since there's no escaping this through words, you have to think fast. Fortunately, your fast thinking has led to an amazing solution!

Jump out of the window, baby

Belphie is just??? Did you fuckin???? Are your legs okay??????????????

He probably stops asking you to nap with him for a while, since you're willing to almost break your legs just to get out of it. You're gonna make him have weird dreams....

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thighs-of-betrayal-blog · 3 years

Text

I Had It Under Control

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger! reader (based on TFAWS)

Summary: After almost dying during a fight against the Flag Smashers, you wake up to an angry Bucky and a fight ensues.

Warnings: angst, fluff, violence, cursing

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on my first fic! I really appreciate it!! For this one, I decided to incorporate a little angst. I hope you like it! :)

You wince as your back slams into the ground. The Flag Smasher that just knocked you down, turns away from you and heads toward Walker. With only a few seconds to get off the ground and collect yourself, you scan your surroundings. Bucky is to your right, dodging two Flag Smashers with knives, while Sam is to your left, landing punches here and there. You were losing this fight. It was the four of you against seven super soldiers.

“Shit. This isn’t good looking.” You whisper to yourself.

“It would be nice if you stopped talking to yourself and helped out a little, Y/N” Sam says into your earpiece.

“I just got knocked down, thank you very much. Couldn’t really fight when I’m laying on the ground, trying to catch my breath” you say back.

“You got hurt, doll?” Bucky asks worriedly.

Sam laughs. “Mr. Knight and Shining Armor always worrying about if Y/N is hurt or not. Where was your concern when I got shot in the leg last week, huh?”

I could feel Bucky rolling his eyes from where he was standing a few feet away. “You walked it off. You were fine.”

“No, no, I didn’t walk it off, tin man. I couldn’t walk because I was shot in the leg and where were you…”

You interrupt Sam before he can continue, “Alright, we get the picture. Let’s stay civil here. We already have enough around us to fight. Don’t need to start fighting each other too.”

Right after you speak, you are surrounded by two super soldiers and instantly get into a fighting stance, already pulling the knife out of your leg holster.

“Looks like we fancy the same type of weapon, boys,” you speak while gesturing towards your knife. “Unfortunately for you, I fight better with it.”

You dodge the super soldier on your right, throwing your knife into his leg, and quickly grab your second knife from its holster, throwing it into the side of the super soldier to your left. Before either can react, you pull the knives out of both soldiers, sending them to the ground in pain.

You step back and wipe the knives onto your clothes, cleaning the blood off them.

“You know, fellas, it’s a shame it had to come to this. I was open to talking it through.”

You turn to look towards Sam. “Now, who did you say needed to help out a little, birdman?”

Sam’s reply is like a distant memory as you suddenly feel a tremendous pain in your stomach. You look down and see blood pouring out of you. Your hand instinctively moves to cover the bullet wound.

“And, unfortunately for you, sweetheart, I have a gun” says one of the super soldiers you stabbed. You turn to see him lying on the ground still, but this time with a gun in his hand, looking at you with a smirk on his face.

Your legs give out beneath you, but before you can hit the ground, Bucky is there, holding you up. “I’ve got you, doll. I’ve got you.” He looks at you with nothing but terror in his eyes.

“Sam!” Bucky yells. “I’ve gotta get them out of here.”

Sam comes running up to your other side. “Shit” he says. “Go, Walker and I will cover you.”

Bucky doesn’t waste another second, as he picks you up and starts running towards the nearest building.

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

Once inside, he places you on your back, on a table in the middle of the room.

“Bucky” you whisper. Your vision was starting to blur. You were losing too much blood.

Bucky doesn’t hear you, as he is frantically ripping off your shirt and tying it around the bullet wound, trying to stop you from bleeding out.

You lazily reach your hand up to grab his wrist. “Bucky” you say a little louder.

Bucky whips his head to look at you.

You reach your hand up to touch his cheek. “Bucky, I have something I want to tell you.”

“You can tell me after we get you stitched up.”

You start to talk a little louder. “No, Bucky, no, I need to tell you now. In case I don’t make it.”

“Stop that!” Bucky yells. “You’re going to make it. You’re going to be fine. Don’t say shit like that, doll. Just don’t.” Tears start to fall down his cheeks. “We are going to get you all fixed up. Just sit tight.”

You start to cry. You reach your hand back down to grab his hand. “I love you, Buck. I love you so much. And, I have for so long. I just want you to know that. It’s important that you do.”

Bucky starts to cry harder. He opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t hear anything he says.

The darkness in the corner of your vision starts creeping in and after a couple seconds, you fall asleep.

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

You slowly open your eyes and see white all around you. You hear a faint beeping sound to your left. Your body aches everywhere, especially your stomach. You feel a slight squeeze to your right hand and turn your head to see Bucky sitting in a chair next to you, with his hand holding yours and his head down.

“Buck” you attempt to say, but your voice is so scratchy it doesn’t sound like anything.

Bucky’s head immediately lifts up and he springs to his feet.

“You’re awake. Oh my god, doll, I thought... Let me go get a doctor.”

You shake your head slowly. “No”, you manage to get out. “Stay please. I just need some water.”

Bucky nods. “Water, right, okay.” He hands you a cup of water. “Here you go, love.”

The water burns down your throat and you start to cough.

Bucky instantly grabs your hand again. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I’m okay. Just burns a little.” You look him in the eyes. “What?” you ask him as he looks at you with a strange look.

Bucky’s mood immediately changes. “I should be asking you that. What were you doing turning your back to the enemy?” he asks angrily.

You scoff. “We are really going to have this conversation right now?”

“Yeah, we are. What the hell were you thinking? You can’t be doing that. You could have died!”

“But, I didn’t. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Bucky slams his hands down on the bed and stands up. “But, you almost did!” he yells. “You almost fucking died because you wanted to make some stupid comment to Sam, like a dumbass!”

“Me? A dumbass? I had it under control. I had both of those men on the ground, while you were still busy trying to dodge the fucking knives being thrown at you! Some super soldier you are, huh?”

“Under control? You call getting shot ‘under control’?” Bucky screams at you.

You look back at him incredulously. “What the hell is your problem?”

He throws his hands towards you. “You! You’re my fucking problem. Damnit, you could have died! And, then what? Do you even care? I could have fucking lost you.” He starts to break down and cry. You look into his eyes, as tears run down his face. “I almost lost you and I love you too much to lose you! And, of course, you finally said you love me and I didn’t even get a chance to say it back. I was so scared.” He sits down next to the bed and places his hand on your face. “I was so scared. I’ve lost everyone. I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

Tears run down your face. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, Buck. I’m so sorry I scared you. But, I meant it when I said I love you. I love you so much. I’m here as long as you’ll want me.”

Bucky smiles. “Then you’re stuck with me forever, doll, because I’ll always want you. Just please don’t do something like that ever again.”

You smile and lean up to kiss him. Right as your lips connect, the door opens.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What did I just walk into? I guess Tinman finally admitted his feelings, Y/N?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and moves back to sit in the chair.

You laugh and look at Sam. “Cut him some slack, Sam. He’s had a long day.”

Sam walks over to your bed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better. Just sore.”

Sam grins. “Bucky’s lips make it all better?”

Bucky turns to Sam. “Hey now, don’t start.”

“Oh, yeah? And, what are you going to do, old man?”

You watch as Bucky and Sam bicker with each other and smile to yourself.

Sam interrupts your moment of thought. “But seriously, please tell me you guys aren’t going to be making out every time I turn my back.”

You and Bucky look at each other and laugh. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to be quiet” you say.

Sam groans in response and Bucky starts to laugh even harder, just as the doctor walks in.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #falcon and the winter soldier #bucky x avenger!reader #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #marvel #sebastian stan x reader #sam wilson #tfaws

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Text

Cheeky

jack grealish x reader

prompt request; you're talking on the phone and your lover quietly comes up behind you, wraps their arms around you, and starts gently kissing your neck. you begin to lose focus on your phone call as you concentrate on not making any noise.

its a little bit smutty - 18+

Jack likes to think he's a fairly patient man. He kind of has to be. If he gets any more than irked when his team are down a goal then he'd lose his head a little and they certainly wouldn't make up that goal if he couldn't keep his cool. It wasn't something he was born with so much as something that was trained into him through time and good coaching from his youth days through to now, as captain.

His patience with you is tenfold. That man grew up with three women in his life. It felt like half of all his dad ever said was "Just be patient Jack, the girls aren't ready yet." when he was young, bouncing on his heels at the door desperately waiting to go out with his family and his mother could more often than not be heard saying "Patience is a virtue, Jack." So he liked to think it was something he was relatively good at when it came to both his game and his girlfriend. Though you might inclined to suggest a little bit differently.

Today had been one of those days where he got to have a lie in, eyes softly shut, chest rising and falling rhythmically with his hair strewn out in all angles well into the early hours of the afternoon. His sleep was very satisfying and the long lie much needed, but he would have preferred to have woken up with you still there next to him when his eyes finally peeled open to an empty bed.

You had gone out, as you told in a text message sent to his phone half an hour ago knowing he would wake up and see it. When he texted back to ask where, he didn't get a response until you walked through the door again with a coffee for him and two muffins in a brown bag. You'd gone out for brunch with a friend thinking that you'd be back before he woke up but she had talked for longer than you anticipated and then you got stuck in the afternoon traffic. The muffin and the coffee were your way of saying sorry you weren't there when he woke and served as the perfect temporary fix for his grumbling belly.

A lot of the rest of your day was spent working, which pissed you off to no end. The one day Jack had to spend, you of course could not escape university for. "Last two weeks and then I'm all yours," you'd assured him, "Well, 'till I can get a job and work for the rest of my life to pay off those stupid loans. Lovely." You had a bit of a habit of being a bit less optimistic when you were stressed and Jack could very well see that was the case today. He knew you'd enjoyed uni, but you and every other student in the world would hate that last few weeks with the scramble to submit projects and clean up shop before graduation.

"I told you not to take out loans, baby," He had cooed earlier in the day as he stood behind your desk in one of the spare rooms, messaging your shoulders, "I have plenty for the two of us, you know it."

His words were sweet, genuinely. Muffled by your hair as he pressed his lips down onto the crown of your head. But you laugh softly at him with a shake of your head. "Don't start with that, Grealish."

He had laughed at your retort and left you alone to work again until dinner which he of course did not make because all that Jack can make is pot noodles or toast and cheese. Neither of those things had tickled either of your fancies, so it was takeaway delivered straight to the door that had you all but floating down the stairs when the smell wafted up.

Jack knew what he had in mind for after dinner. Something that both he and you would equally enjoy that would be very de-stressing for you too. That very enjoyable thing did not include you being on a three way messenger call with two of your closest friends from uni gossiping and talking about coursework while you finished wiping up the kitchen.

That's where Jack's patience appeared to come into play once more.

One might say he had been incredibly patient. He waited all day without trying to bother or pester you while you were working like he usually might and then he waited through dinner, waiting with the TV paused when you promised you'd only be five minutes wiping down the kitchen counters and doing the dishes.

And then he heard that god forsaken phone ring and his head tipped back onto the back of the couch with a silent groan. Then he waited another short while listening to you on the phone, not much involved in the conversational aspect than you were the reacting to the story.

The sight of you made him groan again when he walked into the kitchen after hearing a few moments of silence on your end, thinking that you might've finished the phone call. He was dead wrong, you were still stood with the phone help up to your ear as you looked out the kitchen window into the garden in apparent thought. You stop Jack walking up behind you in the reflection of the window.

He wraps his arms around your waist slowly, resting his chin on your shoulder with his head against yours. You lay the phone down on the counter with your friend continuing to tell the story about her boyfriend while you turned your head to look at your own pouting man. "Sorry baby," you coo softly, "Her and Will got into this messy fight and I-oh"

Your whispered words die on your tongue when you feel his move to your neck. Instinctively, you want to push him away but the feeling of his lips, soft and cold from the ice water he'd just been drinking, moving up the nape of your warm neck if just too good for even begin to swat at. "Give me two minutes to end the call," you murmur as quietly as you can manage into his ear, but you just feel a the gently grunt of his disagreement. "No no baby, you finish that call. I'll be right here."

"But Jack- fuck-"

"Better not let them hear you, baby." He lulls softly into your ear.

"You still there (y/n)."

You almost yelp in fright at the sudden call of your name through the phone. Of course you knew the call was still on but the speaking had completely gone blank to your ears, one of which Jack currently had his teeth nibbling at. "Sorry!" You chime, voice shaky, "I lost you guys for a bit there I was," you have to take pause to release a heavy breath in both an attempt to steady your voice and to expel the pleasure building up through your body as his kisses continue over you, "Moving room. Back now though."

"Are you alright?" One asks in genuine concern. You'll need to do a better job to keep quiet. "Yeah course. Sorry, continue."

They do just that, enveloping back into a conversation that is completely lost on your mind. Jack's hands are under your top, your bra long dropped to the floor. He can see your open mouthed, eyebrow furrowed look of pleasure in the reflection of the mirror as he moved his thigh carefully and slowly between your legs, rhythmically. "Ah ah ahhh," he tuts in your ear lowly, "quite baby, shhhh."

The feeling of his hard on pressing into your ass only fuels the fire burning in the core of your belly with each squeeze and knead of your breasts. He knows exactly what he's doing with the flexing and loosening of his huge thigh muscles pressed into you. You quite literally couldn't catch the moan that tumbled out of your lips with the friction he had created with his leg as he continued those precision targeted kisses leaving marks over your neck.

Both of your friends freeze and Jack is paused in all his movements as you clamp your mouth shut.

"Ouch?" Jack groans, biting down on his lip as he looks at you. His attempt to play off your sound only elicits more silence. "Jack's just stubbed his toe." You announce in an unceremoniously high pitch with an incredibly, almost unheard-of nervous laughter to follow while Jack tries with everything he has not to burst into laughter. "Gotta go, call you back tomorrow!" You yelp out, grabbing your phone from the counter with a frantic hand, "Those feet pay the bills after all!"

Neither of your friends get in a word in before your fingers have hit the big reg end button and turned towards the now very sly looking footballer standing so close that you can still feel the heat radiating off him, that thigh attempting to creep its way back in between yours.

"I'm so going to get you back for that." You warn. He sniggers.

"You will, will you?" He teases with a smirk, jutting his tongue out over his lips.

"Yeah," you say firmly, taking a step closer to him to wedge yourself back into the pleasureful position. "Not fucking today though, Jack. You'll finish what you started today."

He is very happy to accept his marching order, hoisting you up onto his arms with your legs tight around his waist as he immediately moves to set you on the kitchen counter.

"Not a problem, baby."

#jack grealish imagines #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish #england national team imagine #england national team #footballer fics #football fics #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish smut

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landinoandco · 3 years

Text

Our Love is a Game

Lando Norris x Reader

Request from @jamieeboulos

Warnings: pinch of fluff, cute ending because they are the best

Word count: 2.7 k

Requests are open :)

It all started with a phone number, an innocent exchange that would subsequently change the world you knew; mostly for the better. When you had met Lando, as far as you were concerned you had just met a 21 year old who lived in London and had a passion for cars. How wrong you were. It was only when things started to get serious that he sat you down and explained everything that came with being a formula one driver; more importantly the fandom that he was involved in.

You had always been a private person and admittedly this piece of information almost broke your relationship but after some time to think you had decided that he was worth it all. You both decided it was a better idea to keep your relationship as quiet as possible - you took every precaution to make sure you stayed a stranger to the fans.

For the past 2 years, you thought you had managed to stay clear of the cameras, the photos and the twitch streams but it wasn’t until a fan-made compilation caused your world to spiral out of control.

You and Lando were out for a run, it was a part of your morning routine - a great way to start the day and it was time that you two could escape the motor sport world and act like a normal couple without worrying about who might be watching. It was time you both valued and appreciated. On this particular morning, Lando had decided to add to his Instagram story, a short video of his morning adventures - the mist still hanging around the trees as you ran under a heavily graffitied bridge, the early birds song chirping animatedly. At the time you didn’t think much of it as you were too busy tying your hair back up to notice.

It wasn’t until you got home and looked at his story that your heart stopped, rushing over to the kitchen island you placed your phone down and ran your fingers through your hair. It was a blink and you’ll miss it moment but in the corner of his video - the last millisecond before it ended - there was a flash of a purple top (the purple top you had been wearing) and a swish of brown hair as you chucked it back up into a ponytail.

“Lando.” You called out, trying to keep your voice as calm as you could. You didn’t know why it had affected you so much - or why you were so desperate to keep your identity a secret. It wasn’t like you wanted to hide your relationship; you were the happiest you ever had been, everyday was exciting and offered new prospects - it was more that you were so used to being in this bubble with Lando, the idea of it bursting seemed rather unappealing. Usually you didn’t care for how others saw you but seeing some of the words that people used to describe him, it would be enough to trouble even the thickest of skins.

Lando’s close proximity broke your thoughts as he stared down at your phone, pausing on the flash of brown and purple. “I am so sorry, love.” He almost whispered, his eyes widening at his carelessness. He picked your phone up to take a closer look.

“It will be alright, won’t it? I mean, it’s a blink and you’ll miss it.” You had said, more to reassure yourself than Lando. He didn’t answer, anxiety building in the pit of his stomach because he knew exactly what he had started.

The fan-made compilation didn’t go viral until a few hours later - as it turns out that flash of purple was the perfect cherry on top of an unappetising cake. Lando was sat on stream - not that this was out of the ordinary and Max had decided to join him, leaving you alone to rewatch Friends for the umpteenth time.

The pair were sat reacting to videos on YouTube when a clip of a seal swimming into a shoal of fish started playing - the amusing part was that they kept quickly dispersing away from the seal in question. Unsurprisingly, they laughed and Lando spluttered: “This is me trying to find a girlfriend.” What the fans didn’t know was the apparent irony of that sentence and this was what caused the major meltdown; whilst Lando and Max were busy crying with laughter - that chat had filled up with the same link and references to the video you would be redirected through.

Max was the first to stop laughing, tapping Lando on the shoulder as he pointed at the chat. Hundreds of the same message filled the screen: “That’s not what this compilation shows.” “Lando, what are you hiding from us?” “Lando and Max laughing knowing very well he has a girlfriend.”

“Chat what on earth are you waffling on about.” Max chuckled uneasily, looking at Lando out of the corner of his eye. Lando sat with a forced smile, his nostrils flaring as he continued through the comments. He could only let out a tense laugh as he swallowed thickly - his throat feeling suddenly dry. You were still sitting, completely engrossed and unaware that Lando Norris was now trending on twitter.

Max had come up with an excuse to end the stream not long after, Lando uncharacteristically quiet. His thoughts were with you in the other room, had you seen it? Did you know? How would you react? He felt as though he had lost all control, like he had failed you entirely - all he wanted to do was protect you yet he was the one to screw it up.

“Hey,” Max nudged his shoulder, “It was bound to happen at some point. Let’s go and see if she’s seen it - if not then -” He took a deep breath, “We will watch it together. We need to know what we are working with here.” Lando nodded, unable to reply, his body went into automatic pilot mode and too quickly he was standing facing you.

Pausing the tv, you looked at Lando - his jaw tightened and facial expressions set as though he had just seen a ghost. “Is everything ok?” You asked apprehensively.

“There’s something you need to see.” Max reached for his phone, pushing Lando onto the sofa. You offered your arm to Lando, pulling him into a hug. Max pulled up the video and pressed play. A tense atmosphere held the room hostage - breath restricted and gazes fixed onto the tiny screen in front of you.

It started with a clip from this year’s Goodwood - Lando preparing to drive his last hill climb - you remembered it well, a McLaren hat placed on your head mainly to cover your identity; knowing that there would be more than a few fans around. The clip moved to 3 separate stills - all of you in your McLaren hat. One with your back to the camera, you hand placed around Lando’s waist, the other two a side profile as you spoke to Max.

The reaction was immediate, you slapped your hand to your mouth, Lando looked horror-struck and Max was watching you carefully.

The video moved on, this time a clip from the quadrant video where Niran trains like Lando for 24 hours - Lando and Niran were in the kitchen preparing to eat their breakfast when once again the video moved to stills. This time they were of your reflection in the oven - holding the camera. You had thought at the time, if you were behind the camera it would stop every chance of you accidentally being caught on camera. Apparently not.

The video had moved on again, this time to stills of Lando arriving on track - of course there was no way for you to get on track without being photographed and you were fine with that because you would just arrive after Lando either with Jon or Charlotte. Photos of you arriving with Jon and Charlotte flashed up - with them you were just another member of staff but put with those other stills and it really did yell out that you and Lando were romantically involved. Finally the flash of purple from Lando’s story. The game was up.

“Oh my-” You stuttered as the video came to an end. Fortunately your Instagram hadn’t been shown but judged by how skilled you knew the fans to be - it would only be a matter of time. “I feel sick.” You admitted, wiping your hands across your face. Lando still hadn’t said a word, staring blankly at the floor. Max was the first to come up with something logical, turning to you and Lando.

“It will blow over.” He started, “The fans will soon lose interest and move onto the next big headline. We just need to ignore anything we see regarding the subject.” He moved his attention to you. “Maybe avoid social media for a few days. Let everyone cool down -” Sensing your means to interrupt, he held his hand up. “I know you shouldn’t have to and I know none of this is fair but unfortunately people have no boundaries and believe because it’s on social media it is their business. If they were in our situation, I’m pretty sure they would be the first to complain. Let’s just go along with it for now. It will give you time to think about what to do next.”

Lando cleared his throat, pulling you closer into him. “I’ve failed you. All I wanted to do was protect you.” At this, Max got up and left.

Shaking your head, you pressed your lips to his forehead. “You could never. Think about how long we kept it secret for. Besides, until we announce or admit anything - it isn’t confirmed.” You offered, trying to soothe his worries. He nodded, still not convinced.

“Our love is like a game and it’s not a game I enjoy playing.” He croaked, lacing your fingers together.

“I know, Lando, I know. Let’s let everything calm down and then we can think about what our next step is.”

Weeks later and it was the night before you were due to leave for your summer holiday. You would be spending it with Lando and some of his friends and family. Due to the current pandemic, it had been so long since you had been away - even if it was a bigger group of you going; you were still looking forward to spending that quality time with Lando.

Max had decided to take himself and Tom off to the streaming room - leaving you and Lando to sort out the remaining items you needed for your time away.

“I have a present for you.” He said suddenly, his hands behind his back. You beamed, taking a step closer to him. He shook his head, “If you want it - “ He pointed at his lips.

Rolling your eyes, you pecked his lips then held out your hands like a child. Lando chuckled, “Close your eyes.” Hands still outstretched and eyes closed, you waited for Lando to present you with your surprise. He grasped your left wrist and attached something to it - “No peeking.” He added. A moment or two later, he dropped his hold of your wrist and said: “You can open them now.” You could hear the smile on his lips. You opened your eyes and looked straight to your wrist - he had given you a pink watch. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him, his eyes twinkled as he then pointed to the orange watch on his wrist.

“Watches?” You asked, confusion laced your tone.

Nodding, he said, “We all have matching watches but in different colours - they are for our holiday away.”

You gave him a lopsided grin and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love it. Thank you.”

In the streaming room, Max was having to ignore the majority of the comments because they were all asking the same thing: “Who was the girl from the compilation.” He was trying his hardest to keep moving off the topic, instead showing off the watches - it had been his idea, blue for him, orange for Lando, a child’s watch for Tom and a pink watch for you. He had listed off all of the colours and said who they belonged to: “And then pink-” He paused, mentally face palming. He looked over to Tom for assistance - he hadn’t meant to say pink at all. “And pink is for someone.” He cursed his poor excuse but as if by magic - Lando walked through the door.

Distracting the stream from his slip up.

Croatia was a dream come true, the hot summer sun on your back and the time to just relax and recharge. Days spent with Lando sunbathing on the boat or stuck in a tense game of Uno. Not being the only female was brilliant as well - as they got to go off and not feel guilty about leaving you on your own.

Currently, you and Lando were standing in each other's arms - the afternoon drawing into the evening as the sun began to set. You had your arms around his neck and his arms were around your waist, sighing contentedly you broke the silence: “This is nice.” He pressed his lips into your hair, a sign that he agreed with your statement. In that moment, it was just you and him - everyone seemed to disappear from around you and all worries vanished. It was the simple yet affectionate moments that had always meant the most to you. You felt as though you could relax every muscle in your body, listening to his steady heartbeat - you wished for this moment to never end, to forever be in his arms and to not worry about who sees you there.

Ever since that compilation had been made, the thought had been on your mind a lot. Were you ready to go public with Lando? At the end of the day you were both happy and surely that was the most important thing.

Later that night, you were sitting eating your meal when a phone was handed to you, displayed on it was a picture of you and Lando - in each other’s arms.

Instantly you knew what this meant, looking at Lando you were met with the same expression. He did as well.

You and Lando had decided it was time to announce your relationship, there was no point sneaking around anymore if people knew and were looking out for you. You had agreed that the best way to do it was if you joined him in a stream, that way they got to know you a bit more for who you were.

“Is it ok to feel as nervous as I am?” You asked him, pulling up a chair beside him. He was setting up the stream, two mugs of tea placed in front of you. It seemed completely unnatural to sit facing the camera.

“I mean, this is kind of a big deal so yes I would say, it’s completely natural for you to feel nervous.” He reached for your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. Nodding, you took a deep breath.

“Ok. I’m ready.” You said, your heart beating at a million miles an hour. The corners of his lips turned up, leaning in to leave you a kiss on the lips.

“I love you and I’m so proud of you.” He admitted quietly, as though you were the only person in the world, his eyes flickered with complete adoration.

“I love you too. Now, shall we start it?”

Lando went to press the start stream button but paused. He turned back to face you, his eyes wide and offered an apologetic smile.

“What did you do?” You asked, a smile toying at your lips as you had an idea of what it might have been.

“Stream, meet my girlfriend.”

He had already started it...

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #mclaren #lando norris oneshot #lando norris fanfiction #f1 2021 #f1 imagine #f1blr #formula one #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #lando norris one shot #f1 requests #lando norris request #lando norris blurb

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood, language, brief nudity. Later chapters will be M Warnings: Nah fam Summary: Local vampire finds out she can't kill soft human (because they're soulmates, baby), human becomes insufferable bastard, oops they fuck later. Soulmate AU where if one person gets injured, their soulmate feels the same amount of pain and receives a scar in the relevant area.

1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

It’s not that you had expected to survive this- being locked in the dungeon of Castle Dimitrescu, waiting for the day you’re picked to be someone’s meal. Oh no, you had given up on surviving long ago, it was just that… well, you had hoped that someone with a softer touch would do you in. But here you were, too exhausted to cry, hanging naked in front of none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her eyes were trailing you up and down, examining every inch of your skin, every flaw, every unique trait. It was like she was making a mental map of which parts of you would taste best. Goddamn, you wanted to spit in her face, or scream, or say something, anything that might make her feel even an ounce of what you had felt for weeks.

But you know that she’s already planning to kill you, and to make it painful. Why give her any more reason? Why dare her to find a worse way to end your life? There was no good answer, so you stayed still, just watched her move. Maybe if you looked bored enough she’d make it quick, just stab a knife in you and drink you up like a capri sun. Or, maybe, if you kept a straight face, she would admire your courage. Oh, how you longed for people to think of you kindly now, in your last moments, when dying clean and pretty was no longer an option.

Pulling a blade from some hidden sheathe, Cassandra approaches you with a wicked grin. There’s still blood on her lips from her last victim. Had they not sated her? Or had she been like this for some time? When she inevitably drank from you, how long would your blood remain on her lips? You weren’t sure that you wanted to know. In your mind, you picture her cleaning up as soon as she was done with you. It does not make you feel any better. Neither does the way she traces a finger across your chest, left to right, practicing for the incision to follow. She pauses to lick her lips, making direct eye contact as she does.

What happens next passes by so quickly that you don’t process any of it until the whole ordeal is over. The blade’s tip digs into your chest, just below your collarbone, before dragging along half the width of your torso. It hurts like hell, but you manage to keep your misery to yourself. But your pain is soon replaced with confusion; Cassandra screams, loud enough to echo throughout the basement, doubling over herself. In an instant her knife has clattered to the floor, forgotten. Instinct takes over your brain, the default programing kicking in, and you say something that fills you with instant regret.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is a bit quiet, and raw, worn out from lack of hydration. But it is enough, evidently, for Cassandra to hear. She’s rising back up and glaring at you, one hand clutching her chest. Something in her expression tells you that she thinks you’re mocking her. While that wasn’t technically the case, there was a part of you that found joy in this, watching your captor get a taste of their own medicine. The question left in your mind was why she was in pain. “I’ll take that as a no,” you said, again left with regret at your choices.

Now her hand is swiping at your face, nails cutting you open. Once more she hisses in pain, now clutching her head, shaking a little as she does. When she meets your gaze, you see that she’s more confused than anything. More than that, you see the marks on her face, knowing instantly that they match your own. Oh hell no, you thought, grimacing.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Cassandra growled through clenched teeth. Bouncing back and forth on her heels, she seems tense, unsure of how to process what’s happening. You feel the same way, desperately wanting to pretend that this doesn’t mean you’re her soulmate. Maybe the universe had just messed up, crossing some wires, or decided to pull a prank on the two of you. Either way it was better than the alternative. Eager to think about something else, you start considering your options. The first that comes to mind is ridiculous. Stupid, really. But would it amuse you? Absolutely.

“Not gonna lie, I feel better about the idea of you killing me now. Feel free to make it painful, darlin’, I won’t mind,” you snarked, lips curling up into a smirk. Oh boy was it satisfying to watch Cassandra’s response. One of her hands raises to smack you, only for her to freeze before releasing a torrent of swears. Hurting you meant hurting herself. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little aching? Haven’t you ever imagined what it’s like to be on the other side of things? Under the blade yourself, blood soaking your skin, eyes too dry for even a single tear? Poor thing,” you purred, tone as teasing as it could get. Apparently it’s aggravating enough for Cassandra to fight through the pain, as she slams her fist into your stomach, leaving both of you gasping for breath. “This is fun-” you pause to cough out a few drops of blood- “really, really fun. Hey, if you kill me, how bad do you think you’ll feel?”

Before Cassandra can react, either to speak or hurt you worse, the sound of approaching footsteps draws her attention. From where you hang you can’t see much, too many cells and hanging bodies blocking your vision. But your “soulmate” seemed to know who was coming. Her face scrunches up a little, and she adjusts her robes, trying to cover the mark on her chest. Had you not still been coughing, you would have sarcastically asked her how she intended to hide her face.

“What the hell is going on, Cassandra?” An unfamiliar voice asked. The footsteps grew louder, and faster, until the new figure stood in the same cell as you. Not even bothering to spare you a glance, she approaches Cassandra, reaching to examine her face. “Did a prisoner manage to get you? I’ve told you a thousand times-”

“Don’t fucking touch me, sis,” Cassandra snapped, pushing away her sister’s hand. Both of them are visibly tense, and for a moment they stand still, staring each other down. Then the sister (who you assume to be Bela, from things you’ve overheard recently) shifts her focus to you. Something tells you that she has no intentions of being gentle.

“Did you do this, you rotten little thing?” Bela questioned, glaring at you hard enough to send a shiver down your spine. But that doesn’t stop you from trying to have some more fun.

“Oh, of course I did! I rattled my chains real good, scared the shit out of her, made her fall on her own knife a few times. You know, like that one musical?” You must look insane as you speak, grin wide but face dripping with blood. If it unnerves Bela, she hides it well, though you doubt it does. As soon as you’re done poking fun she’s pulling out her sickle. Still grinning, you make eye contact with Cassandra, who realizes what’s happening a second too late. Then the two of you cry out in unison, as the blade carves into your shoulder. Instantly Bela pulls back, stunned, turning to her sister with genuine concern. “I might have lied. Rest assured though, it was for comedic purposes.”

The next thing you know the two sisters are shuffling away from you, Cassandra begrudgingly being dragged along by Bela. Though the younger of the two had been adamant about not receiving help, she now had little choice in the matter, skin searing from your blood bond. Even you are starting to breathe harder than you’d like.

“Was it something I said?” You barked, barely able to manage a fit of giggles between your coughing. Bela shoots you a glare over her shoulder, but quickly returns her attention to her sister. They talk, quickly, soft enough that you can only make out a few words here and there. It’s hard to make meaning from it, especially considering their vastly different tones. Cassandra is pure anger, gestures fast and wide, while Bela is oddly solemn, even regretful. When you finally catch a couple full sentences, things start to make a little more sense, though you wish they didn’t.

“We can kill them painlessly, in their sleep. That way you won’t have to suffer,” Bela whispered. She’s doing her best to comfort her sister, despite the tension in the room, gently patting her on the back. Briefly, you make eye contact with her. In that moment she looks equal parts executor and unwilling jury. But she looks away quickly, even shifting her angle to prevent it from happening again.

“No, fuck that, fuck this, I’m… I’m not killing them. Nobody is,” Cassandra growled, daring to emphasize her point by pushing Bela away. Now it’s her turn to look at you, brows furrowed, eyes betraying something more than just anger. Somehow it’s a million times worse than when she first came in. You strain yourself trying to look away, cursing the chains keeping you in place, resorting to closing your eyes and pretending none of this was real. “I don’t care what you think, Bela. They’re already my ‘meal’, might as well get what enjoyment out of this that I can.”

Again, footsteps echo through the basement. Tension locks your muscles in place, and your eyes are still clamped shut, to the point that you don’t realize your chains are being undone until you’ve hit the ground. Cursing under your breath, you finally open your eyes again. There’s blood on the floor, only some of it yours, and you’re suddenly aching for a bath. More than that, though, you’re praying for something to cover yourself with. Certainly Cassandra didn’t need to see everything, now that you weren’t a piece of meat for her to enjoy? As if reading your mind, the middle Dimitrescu daughter flings open a nearby cabinet, messily searching for something. Eventually she gives a hum of approval, then tosses a blanket in your direction.

“Put it on, dipshit, then follow me,” she snapped, already walking away. For a moment you’re tempted to stay there, sitting still, waiting to see how long it would take for her to notice. But one look from Bela sends the thought back to whatever crevice of your mind it crawled out of. So you’re moving, hastily, awkwardly wrapped in a somewhat itchy blanket. Other prisoners eye you as you pass, some shouting curses or even spitting at you. At first Cassandra takes no notice, or simply doesn’t care, but eventually the noise seems to irritate her. Turning back, she takes her sickle in hand and slams the handle into the bars of a cell. It’s loud, making you flinch, but gets everyone’s attention. “Next one to make a peep gets the blood eagle!”

“Is that, like, a sex thing?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself. Laughter rings out around you from the few prisoners capable of it. Cassandra is seething again, looking about ready to kill you. Then she’s shifting into swarm mode, spreading out wide, insects barreling through half the occupied cells. A few cries escape the prisoners, as the flies take bites out of them, cutting a perfect balance between pain and (a lack of) lethality. They’d be suffering for days to come, every movement making their wounds ache. “Not a sex thing, got it,” you muttered to yourself, just as Cassandra reforms in front of you. This time she grabs the blanket you’re wrapped in, using it to tug you forward, sending you towards the exit.

“Shut up for five minutes and I might let you put on actual clothes,” she growled, keeping one hand on your back to guide you. The offer is the closest thing to kindness you’ve seen from her, and you have half a mind to do what she says. Would you actually manage to keep quiet for that long? Well, you were certainly looking forward to finding out...

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #*evil laughter*#i know I said this would have fluff #but it turned into humor oops #yes this will be the best trope #enemies to friends to lovers

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soldierswar · 3 years

Text

A Puppy

Bucky x Reader

Wholesome fluff

Plot: You and your fiancé Bucky have been fighting about getting a puppy for a little while. But what happens when you don't give Bucky much of a choice?

“Y/N we’re not getting a puppy,” Bucky groaned.

“Why not?” you pouted.

“What the hell are we gonna do with a puppy, doll? They are so much work.”

You and Bucky had been bickering about the idea of getting a puppy for the past month. It was always a dream of yours to have a husband and a dog that you could cuddle with on the couch while watching a movie. And now that you were engaged and about to get married in a month, naturally, the next step would be getting a puppy.

Unfortunately, Bucky didn’t agree.

“But come one, babe,” you whined while batting your eyelashes.

“You love dogs.”

He pointed a finger at you.

“I am not falling for that glossy eye trick of yours again.”

You smirked. It really was his downfall sometimes. But much to your dismay, sometimes he had more self-control than others.

“Puppies can be messy,” he pointed out.

“My little sister had one and trust me, they take a while to get house trained, and you have to get up early to walk them every day. And they can get so stubborn.”

“And we can learn how to train him. Come on, Buck. You’ve been through a lot worse things in your life than getting a puppy.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“We’ll talk about it later, I’ve gotta go.”

This usually meant that you weren’t going to talk about it until you decide to start nagging at him about it again.

You sighed pretending to admit your defeat while he started to put his shoes on.

Then you noticed his pause. Not just any pause, but a suspicious pause.

“Y/N?” he questioned.

“…What was that sound?”

Your heart stopped the second that he asked you that.

“What sound?”

He glared at you suspiciously.

“Come on,” you reasoned.

“We live in an apartment building. There are lots of sounds.”

He didn’t stop glaring and slowly stood up and stepped over to the door of your office.

When his hand reached the doorknob and opened, you gulped. And of course, he saw what was really in your office.

“Yeah…I fucking thought so.”

Your new dark grey Pitbull puppy scurried out of your office and jumped on Bucky. Bucky didn’t react. He just stayed still.

“If it makes you feel any better I got him at a shelter. He’s 2 months old, and house trained.”

You held a guilty look on your face.

“I knew I should have been suspicious when you referred to our hypothetical puppy as a ‘he’.”

You shrugged.

“Freudian slip?”

“We’re not keeping the dog,” he huffed.

You frowned.

“Why is that your decision?”

“Why was that your decision to get this puppy?”

He looked down at the puppy that innocently tilted his head. How could he say no to that little face? You certainly couldn’t resist him at the dog shelter.

He shook his head and put his other shoe on before leaving.

“We’re gonna talk about this later.”

Okay so now he was down to talk.

When Bucky left the puppy made his way over to you for you to pick him up.

“How did you manage to get out of your crate?”

Of course, he couldn’t answer, but he just panted while enjoying scratchies. “He’ll come around,” you assured him.

He barked happily.

“I promise.”

…

(Cont.) Day 1

When you walked in the door you were surprised to find Bucky home already. You had only left an hour after he did, and you were only gone for an hour. What surprised you, even more, was that the puppy was on the couch with him with his head comfortably resting on Bucky’s leg.

“Uhhhh…Hey there.”

Bucky was startled and looked down at the little guy.

“He um…” he began explaining.

“He was crying to get out of your office when I got here. It was irritating.”

“Mmhmm,” you answered as you began taking the groceries out of their bags. That included puppy food, bowls, and toys.

“What are those?” he asked.

“What does it look like?” you retorted.

“Umm, it looks like you’re getting ready to make him comfortable here.”

“Well if the shoe fits,” you shrugged.

“We can’t keep him, Y/N.”

The puppy then climbed onto Bucky’s lap nudging onto his shirt for attention and more scratchies. And for the next two minutes, all he did was give you reasons why keeping a dog would be a bad idea as he mindlessly and continuously pet him without even realizing it.

In fact, if you didn’t know any better you would think that this was even relaxing Bucky. Either way, he was talking to deaf ears. All you could do was watch your fiancé subconsciously make this puppy the happiest pet in the world.

When he realized what he was doing he picked him up and passed him over to you.

“You have a week to find him a new home.”

You gave him angry nostril flares. But you then thought about watching Bucky bond with the little guy that he claimed he didn’t want.

“We’ll see about that.”

…

Day 3

Three days. Three days since you brought the little guy home and Bucky still insisted on giving him up.

You were glad that he at least didn’t want you to take him back to the shelter. He wasn’t cruel like that to put him back in a cage.

You constantly bickered on why you guys couldn’t keep him. Especially since one of his first arguments was that puppies were hard to house train. But he had owners for a little while before being put in the shelter. So he was already house trained. And then he’d claim that he just didn’t want to keep a dog…Yet his actions said otherwise.

When he wasn’t around you, you caught flashes of Bucky looking like he kind of liked him. You’d catch him giving him attention for a few seconds while checking to see if the coast was clear. Or even giving him a treat every now and again just because he did something cute. If you didn’t know any better you’d think that he was starting to like him.

That’s when you realized…You were wearing him down.

Good boy.

…

Day 4

“Alright Smokey, sit.”

The puppy sat and waited for Bucky to give him his treat.

You rubbed your eyes unsure if you were seeing what you were seeing, or if you were still asleep and just dreaming. But sure enough, it seemed like this was really happening.

You looked at where you had last left the leash and it wasn’t there. It was on the counter…And the puppies’ paws were wet. And what did he just call him?

“Did you walk him?”

Bucky snapped his head in your direction startled by your presence and immediately hardened his expressions hoping that you didn’t notice his little tender moment. But there was no way that you were letting this go.

“Did you just call him…Smokey?”

He froze.

“I…I um. I mean I figured we should call him something for his new home. We can’t have people think that we’re abusing the little guy.”

You were suspicious at how fond he sounded talking about him. In fact, how long had he been calling him Smokey?

“Smokey,” you called out in a soft high pitched voice in his direction. He immediately snapped his head, let out a little happy bark, and trotted over to you.

He had definitely been called Smokey for long enough. And the little guy seemed to like the name.

“Did he wake you up or something?” you croaked, sleep still heavy in your voice.

“No,” he answered.

“I just couldn’t sleep after 3 am so I just took him out early.”

He said that with a smile on his face, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Okay,” you said.

“Well, I’m going back to bed. Have fun with each other’s company.”

…

Day 5

“No, buddy you give me one paw, not jump up to give me two” Bucky sighed sitting on the floor in front of Smokey. Smokey gave Bucky a frustrated bark because of the withholding of another bite of his treat.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart just turn into goo inside of your chest. They just had to be the most adorable pair.

A few hours ago you walked into the apartment to find Bucky asleep on the couch with Smokey laying comfortably on his chest, with Bucky’s hand resting on him. You had never seen Bucky look so comfortable sleeping without you, or even take a midday nap. Another thing to point out was that Bucky just seemed overall a little more relaxed in general since you brought Smokey into the house.

Before it could go any further you decided to break the news to him.

“I think I might have found a home for him.”

Bucky frowned while letting Smokey chew on his index finger.

“What?”

“Yeah, this couple from Colorado seem really interested in him.”

His face dropped a little bit before catching himself to seem more neutral.

“Well,” he said.

“I mean…I guess he might like the countryside?”

He picked Smokey up and held him against his chest while scratching his neck.

“You think you’ll like that?”

Smokey looked him in the eyes and barked.

“There’s also another couple in Brooklyn that are considering taking him too.”

He looked a little more intrigued. As if he was pleased that Smokey would be a little closer to you guys instead of being in another state.

“Are they close by?”

You smiled.

“Yeah, actually. I think we might even know them.”

He looked even more curious.

“They’re this pretty hot couple that is engaged,” you began.

“The guy isn’t quite sure about wanting a puppy, but his fiancé is getting him around to the idea and he’s minutes away from giving in. I think you know him. Tall guy? Metal arm?”

Bucky shook his head.

“Okay, I get it,” he groaned.

“I mean I’m not sure about them quite yet, so I can call that other couple in Colora—”

“Y/N, stop.”

He held Smokey up like Simba and looked at him fondly.

“What do you think?” Bucky asked Smokey scrunching his face at him.

Smokey leaned forward to kiss Bucky’s forehead.

You walked over to your room and picked up the phone making the phone call that you needed to make.

“Hello?” you said when the call started.

“Hi,” I’m calling on behalf of Smokey.”

“Okay, I get it!” Bucky exclaimed making you chuckle since you could hear him from the living room and of course through the phone.

When you went back to meet them, Bucky was still sitting on the floor playing with little Smokey who was rolling on the floor and play biting him. And then he asked you,

“There’s no couple from Colorado, is there?”

You snorted.

“Of course not.”

“I haven’t put one ad out on the internet.”

Bucky side-eyed you, and you gave him an overexaggerated innocent grin.

“You win this round future Mrs. Barnes.”

…

Day 7

This was it. Your dream had officially come true.

You and Bucky were snuggling on the couch watching a movie, and there Smokey was curled up in a ball on your stomach.

In all honesty, you weren’t even paying attention to the movie. All your attention was the impossibly cute little creature laying on you absorbing every pet that you gave him, even in his sleep.

Every time you looked back up at Bucky, you noticed that his eyes weren’t even on the tv either. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of the cute.

“Can we keep him?” you whispered for the 100th time that day.

And just like the other 99 times, he kissed you on the head and whispered exactly what you didn’t want to hear.

“As long as I’m still his favourite.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader angst #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader fluff #winter soldier x reader angst #white wolf #captain america fanfiction #marvel #marvel movies #marvel fanfiction

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angelofbloodlust · 3 years

Text

Bunny (Billy Loomis x Reader)

A/N: Long time, no see, y’all 😳 sorry for my disappearance, I’ve been going through quite a lot but I’m happy to be back! I apologize if this story isn’t the best, it’s been a long time since I’ve written something like this and I’m still trying to get back in my groove- but if this ends up being well-received I’d be happy to try writing a part 2! <3 hope u guys enjoy!!

—————————————————

Your eyes scan over the backyard of the tan house sat in front of you once more, zoning in heavily on the blackened windows as your boots take hesitant steps forward towards the home of your fellow peer that you’ve been watching for weeks now. Shallow breaths escape you as your chest begins to pound, a flurry of both panicked and thrilled emotions swarming your stomach as your hand tightens on the butcher knife in your hold.

You were finally about to experience your first kill, after taking so many precautions and endless planning. You figured now would be the perfect time with the other murders that has had Woodsboro in chaos, the police department has already got themselves absorbed in solving the murders of Casey and Steve, if you manage to get through this unscathed you could easily let the other nutjob take the blame and get to work on your next plan.

But, that’s easier said than done.

You suck in a breath through your nostrils as you cautiously approach the cracked window ahead of you, the one you’ve witnessed be pushed open by the student’s mother each night before bed, just like clockwork. Though of course, you ensured that neither of her parents would be home that night, and you were glad they were dumb enough to trust their daughter enough to be able to defend herself with a psychopath on the loose.

Your teeth remain clenched as you slowly lift yourself up and climb through the window after pushing it open, being careful to not let your costume get caught and allowing your jaw to relax once you step from the marble of the countertops down to the wooden plank flooring below. Anxiousness to get upstairs and cut the girl’s head off stabs at you as your eyes find the stairs from your view out of the kitchen, though you force yourself to keep your pace as you take light steps on your path towards your goal, and feel relief at the fact none of the floorboards have creaked so far. Annoyance swiftly follows after as you notice the stairs aren’t carpeted, internally grumbling a couple curses while readying yourself to have to take your backup plan in case you accidentally make a noise and wake the girl up.

You make your way up slowly, begging in your mind for each step not to creak, and as you’ve made walked up all but 2 steps, you can’t help but feel a smug grin curl over your lips underneath your mask as you relish in the fact that everything’s gone so smoothly.

And immediately you regret that thought, once you and the short brunette standing in front of the bathroom door both freeze up in shock from the sight of the other.

“Shit, you’re not supposed to be awake!” You groan out, scowling at yourself once you process that you accidentally said that out loud.

Your body tenses as your words seem to have triggered the girl out of her state of shock, a blood-curling wail slipping from her lips at the sight of the knife in your hand before she runs to attempt scampering back into her bedroom to hide from you, sobs and screams pouring from her as you growl under your breath while bolting up the last couple steps and over the carpet towards her.

“Stop yelling!” You whine in panic from her loudness, before narrowing your eyes at your sudden idiocy with the situation. Why the fuck would she listen to you?!

A frustrated huff leaves you as she manages to slam the door on you, leaving you to violently push and slam on the now locked door while spilling out any indecent word your brain can think of in the moment. How could this have gone any worse? Your plan was all for nothing now!

Anxiety twirls in your gut as you look between the door and the stairs, having to make a quick decision as you’re sure the cops have been called by now and won’t take long to arrive. You exhale out, before making the final call to abandon the plan and speed back down the stairs, hopping over anything in your way as you head into the kitchen and back out the window.

Brief relief hits you as the soles of your shoes meet the grass again, taking a swift glance behind you while running for the patch of woods ahead of you. Your exhale out is interrupted as you suddenly collide into something, which you thought was a tree for a split second until the object ahead of you slips out a grunt once they stumble back slightly.

You look back forward in surprise, shock waving you as your vision is taken up by the same white and black mask morphed into a scream that you previously slipped on after making the discovery the other killer had worn it. A squeak leaves your lips as the man in front of you takes a rough grip on your upper arms, shifting around to face your towards the woods and push you forward as he gives a huff out.

“Go, I’m not gonna let you get us caught.” He hisses out, balling the back of your costume into his fist to ensure you keep moving as he leads you further way from the house while you struggle to wrap your head around what’s happening.

“H-How did you know I was-”

“We were in the area prepping, and we could hear that bitch’s scream from a mile away.” He huffs in response.

“Oh..” You mumble, embarrassment now filling your cheeks as he continues to guide you like you’re a disobedient child, wanting to pull from his grip but feeling unsure of how he might react. “...Did you say we?” You question suddenly as you shift your head to look back to him.

“Yes. No more questions, I think I have a right to be the one questioning you instead. Who the fuck are you?” He asks in a strict tone, and despite his mask covering his expression, you could somehow feel the rage radiating off of him at your presence.

You narrow your hidden eyes, “Why would I tell you that?? I don’t even know who you are!”

“I said no more questions.”

“I think it’s a pretty reasonable one if you’re gonna only ask questions I don’t wanna answer!”

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be then we can both remain anonymous. How about this, instead?” He hums, “Did you even kill her? I don’t see any blood on you.”

“..No.. She locked the door on me before I could grab her, I wanted to kill her in her sleep but she was awake once I got inside.” You admit in a sheepish mumble.

He scoffs, “A door stopped you?” You scowl as he chuckles in amusement at your actions. “I suppose that’s reasonable, you are pretty small. Wouldn’t expect you to be able to be able to break it down.” He teases, causing you to grumble out as you wiggle from his grip and turn to face him.

“Hey, it was my first time, and I was panicking! Take it easy on me.” You demand with a pout.

He crosses his arms as he looks down to you, “Tsk, you tried to do it all on your own? No wonder you failed.”

“I spent months planning it, I thought I would’ve done well..” Your voice cracks through your sentence, leaving you to attempt sighing away your urge to cry while you turn back to keep walking, your eyes sticking down to watch your steps while the man with you gives an exhale as he follows at your side.

“Alright, alright, I’ll quit being so harsh. But it takes someone naturally skilled to be able to do it on their own, you know? You think you have everything you need, but even the littlest thing that doesn’t go to plan can fuck it all up. Maybe for you, you just need a bit of teaching to make sure you’re ready for anything.” He shrugs.

“Are you.. offering to help me?” You question gently through the mix of shock and confusion in your chest as to why this stranger is willing to take you under his wing, tilting your head slightly up to him.

“Maybe. But you need to prove that you’re serious about this.”

You begin to question him on how you can prove it, before stopping at the beginning of your sentence once the two of you cross through the patch of woods and up to a parked car on the lone street in front of you. An unsure sensation fills your gut as he makes you stay back while he walks over to the driver’s side window, and you begin to question to yourself if this might really be a safe decision to go with the psychopaths that you were about to frame.. But at the same time, this might be your real chance to be able to finally learn the proper ways of murder.

Soon enough, he walks back over to you and gestures to your mask. “To go any further with this, I need to see your face if you’re going to see ours. It’s only fair.” He requests you in a calm tone, and you hesitate as you frown as you pick up sudden worried thoughts. What if he just wanted to be able to rat you out and let you take blame for everything?

“Hey, you know you haven’t really proved your loyalty to me, either.. What if-”

You freeze as his hand reaches up for his own mask, watching him pull it off to reveal his cold, yet neutral expression as the guy you recognize to be Billy Loomis from your school stands in front of you. Your face reddens at the sight, you know him enough about him to have a thorough crush on him, though you suppose you didn’t know him quite enough to have realized that part of the reason you had been so drawn to him was the fact you were more alike than you had known.

“I’m risking everything for this. Do you know how much this could fuck up everything with us letting you in?” He sighs, and you watch as his lips form in a displeased pout. “The last thing I want is you getting caught doing this dumb shit, and if you’re going to steal our costume you at least need to not act like a moron while you’re in it.” He huffs with narrowed eyes.

“God- fuck, whatever. If you guys end up killing me, I have nothing to lose.” You grumble as you pull off your mask, holding your own pout while he takes up a smirk while looking you over.

“Just as cute as I expected you to be, bunny.” He purrs out in a playful tone, which causes you to give him a questioning expression through your heated cheeks at the nickname.

“Bunny?”

“You’re small, cute and quick. Like a bunny.” He grins.

“I will actually deck you if you call me that again.” You hiss out while he starts to lead you towards the car.

“No, you won’t. I could tell you liked it.” He chimes in a proud tone, laughing out once you reach to smack his arm with your face on fire.

“Shut your mouth, Loomis! You’re so annoying!” You whine as your voice pitches up with your embarrassment.

“Get your ass in the car, Y/N.” He snorts out as he nudges you towards the backseat.

“..You know my name?”

“You’re in my Physics class. I recognize you.” He chuckles gently, flashing you a brief smile before slipping into the passenger’s seat.

“Oh.” You hum, feeling content as you feel joy at the fact that he recognizes you, holding your own smile as you get into the back of the car before pausing once Stu Macher shoots you a grin from the driver’s seat.

“Hey, Y/N! Billy says you wanna join us, that true?” He asks through his classic happy tone, starting up the car while you manage to get yourself to nod as you confirm to yourself that the man you had only ever expected to be the class clown to be Billy’s partner in crime, though you weren’t entirely sure why you were caught off guard with the insane amount of loyalty Stu’s always shown to Billy over the years you’ve watched them be friends.

“Yeah.. Uh, sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see you. Didn’t think you were this kinda guy.” You snicker.

He gives an unbothered shrug, “Well, people always have their secrets, don’t they?” He chuckles, causing you to quirk an eyebrow once he flashes a grin over to Billy and laughing out once he smacks his shoulder in a manner to tell him to shut up. Stu smiles back at you again through the rear-view mirror, “It’s nice to have ya join us, though. I’m sure it’ll be real fun for the three of us.” He purrs, and you can’t help but get an unsettling feeling from the tinge of malice in his smirk, which you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be towards you.

You could only hope not.

#scream 1996 #scream #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis and stu macher #billy loomis x reader #slasher x reader #ghostface x reader #slasher x you #hopefully this ain’t too bad I wrote it all in one sitting 😭

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