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#that's how he figured it was about Stark Tower
ladymunson · 1 day
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Fic summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.
A/N: sorry if this is all over the place, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so this might be a jumbled mess. Enjoy though!
Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f rec), fingering, language, unprotected p in v, kissing, heavy petting.
Word count: 5.3k
Not proofread and no beta (apologies for any mistakes)
I do NOT consent to my work being copied, translated or posted to any other platform.
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Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics and thank you to @jijilaufeyson for helping me make a decision.
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“Are you serious?!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “I’ve been with SHIELD for three years, I can do this mission by myself. I don’t need a babysitter!”
“Yes, you do.” Bucky sneers, you turn your head towards him and glare.
“I hate to agree with Barnes but he’s right, I think you still need someone to keep an eye on you. Your ex was HYDRA after all.” Tony says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You throw your head back in frustration, they’re never going to forget about him.
Three years ago, you had come back to the apartment you shared with you boyfriend of two years to find the place swarming with HYDRA agents. He had been assigned to you to eventually recruit you to HYDRA after they had discovered your abilities.
You’d always been able to sense how someone was feeling by just being near them and eventually it had morphed into being able to influence their emotions. You could walk into a party or a meeting and know exactly who to look out for, whether it be because they were vulnerable or someone with ill intention.
It took immense concentration, effort and energy to be able to change someone’s emotions without touching them. Which you always try and avoid, you don’t want to change someone unintentionally, you could ruin things for them. So, you manage to keep your emotions in check most of the time, and don’t accidentally influence anyone.
The moment you realised that Russell was HYDRA, you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but they weren’t going to let you go without a fight. Luckily, you’d befriended the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, when you’d met her and Wanda Maximoff one night at a local dive bar after Russ had blown you off again. One text to her and they’d both been at your door and helped you get away from the agents and back to the safety of Avengers Tower where you’d been subjected to an intense interrogation from Tony Stark, Cliff Barton and Bucky Barnes.
You’d thought that after all the years spent training and fighting by their sides, they would trust you by now, but obviously they don’t. Or more specifically; Bucky doesn’t. Cliff had decided you were trustworthy the first time he interrogated you and had told them as much, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. So here you were three whole years later, still deemed untrustworthy by the Winter Soldier of all people.
“You know what…?” You start and Bucky smirks at you, adding more fuel to the fire. “I’m glad you’re doing the recon alone, gives me time to pack.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “This is my last mission, I’m done. I quit!” You turn on your heel and leave the conference room without another word.
Bucky groans and places both hands on the table in front of him, flesh beside vibranium, and hangs his head.
“Well that went well Barnes.” Tony says as he walks over to the door. “Looks like I have to do damage control.” He points at Bucky. “You find something on that recon and figure out a way to fix this. We can’t lose her.” And leaves the room, the glass door swinging back and forth.
Bucky makes a fist and slams it down on the table in front of him. “Fuck!”
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You stalk down the hallway, heading to your room, walking past everyone and ignoring them all as they try talking to you. Natasha notices and follows you to your room, the doors are automated so you can’t even slam it to let out your frustration. So, you throw your self face down on your bed and scream into the comforter. Natasha just stands by the door, not saying anything and waits for you to finish your screaming.
“Feel better?” She asks as you flip yourself over to lay on your back.
“I can’t believe he still doesn’t trust me! Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I quit.” You say without looking in her direction.
“You didn’t quit.” Natasha says as she walks over to join you on your bed.
“I did, straight to Bucky and Tony’s faces. Both of them looked shocked but I don’t care anymore. I’m fucking done!” You say as you jump off the bed and begin going through your closet and putting clothes in a suitcase.
The one thing you want, is to have Bucky’s trust…. Okay there’s something you want more than his trust, but you’re never going to get it. If he doesn’t trust you to be member of his team, there’s no way he’s going to trust you in any sort of relationship. So rather than trying anymore, you’ve picked the nuclear option. Serves him right!
“Buck…?” Steve says as he walks into the conference room where Bucky is still hunched over the table. “What’s going on?”
“What is wrong with me Steve? Why can’t I trust people?”
“You mean y/n?” Steve asks. Bucky groans. “Buck, I think it’s obvious to everyone except you and y/n that you like her.” Bucky looks up at Steve. “In a romantic way.”
Bucky stammers, “N... no I don’t.” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky.
“You haven’t been in a relationship since she joined SHEILD, hell you haven’t even on a date in a year. You like her.”
“You’re right Steve, I do. But… She quit.” Bucky says as his head hangs head.
“What did you do? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Fix it!” Steve says and leaves the room.
You and Bucky avoid each other for the next week, but to be fair he was out doing recon for the mission with Sam, who had been ribbing him about his feelings for you and pissing Bucky off. They had however, been able to meet the mark and started integrating themselves into his world. Your role as Bucky’s girl would come later, and you couldn’t help feeling like he was ruining your chances to prove yourself. You could’ve done the getting to know the mark and maybe brought Bucky or Sam or even Steve in as your man later on.
You hated to admit it but their getting to know him first was the better plan as not many women were in that world.
The mark. Carlo Vizzini is the head of an organised crime syndicate, who deals stolen HYDRA and SHIELD weapons and technology to other members of the syndicate. The goal is to find the times and locations of all the shipments being brought into the city, finding a list of buyers would be the icing on the cake but it isn’t a priority.
Bucky’s role is to present himself as someone new to the area who wants to become a member of the syndicate. FRIDAY has come up with an elaborate backstory for the two of you, created entire histories for you both which you’ve spent the last week reviewing and learning. Your backstory isn’t too far away from your real story, so it isn’t hard to memorise. The problem is pretending to be his girl. How can you possibly work together and be convincing if it’s obvious to everyone that he doesn’t trust you. There has to be a reason why Tony suggested Bucky for the mission and not Steve, you don’t know what it is, not that you care because you won’t be around once this mission is completed.
The story. You and Bucky have moved to New York from Michigan, where was a mid level HYDRA agent who oversaw a warehouse that contained new tech. The place had been breached while he was attending a HYDRA event with you, and they had fired him for allowing the breach to happen (An actual event orchestrated by Vizzini).
You had been together for five years at the point you’re at, and Tony had decided to add the fact that you were recently engaged. So, you had to wear an obnoxiously huge diamond on your left ring finger, which really bugged you. You had both been set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn, sleeping in separate rooms but having to appear all lovey dovey in case you were being watched.
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Four weeks later.
Carlo Vizzini has invited Bucky and you to an event hosted at his mansion in the Hamptons, where you will both be introduced to other syndicate members. So, you need a spa day and shopping trip where you can buy a dress for the event and be seen out and about acting like this is a normal occurrence. Tony has also arranged for someone from Tiffany to show up at your house and lend you some jewellery for the event as you’re a simple teeny hoop earring kind of girl.
You find the perfect dress while browsing online so it’s very easy to go and get it without having to actually search in store. Scratch that, Natasha found the dress for you and told you it would be a crime if you didn’t wear it.
The idea is to infiltrate the syndicate event, find the intel and get out without your cover being blown until the weapons and tech have been recovered. If your covers can last beyond that until the entire syndicate has been taken down, that’s even better.
So, you’ve been to the salon and had your hair done and are heading back to the brownstone when you notice the dark SUV you spotted outside the mall had parked across the road and the occupant was crossing over to you. You play it off like you haven’t noticed, a civilian wouldn’t have and that’s who you are for the foreseeable future.
“Excuse me? Y/N” The stranger starts a conversation with you.
“Yes? You answer, turning to face the person who has spoken to you.
“I’m sorry, I work for someone your boyfriend is trying to get into business with and he’s asked me to check that you out.”
You chuckle, “Fiancé.” The stranger looks confused. “He’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend. Does Mr Vizzini think we haven’t done the same the same to him? Can’t be too careful these days, too many con men around, especially in New York.”
The stranger seems a little taken aback by your words, but continues, like his job is at stake. “I have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”
You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. “Okay?”
He takes a picture out of his jacket and asks. “Who is this man?”
The picture is of Sam Wilson, the Falcon but you answer, “That is Sam, James’s brother, adopted of course. “
“And how long have you been together?”
“Five years, engaged for one. Are we done here? I have to get ready for a party.” You say and turn to the steps of your brownstone, heading up to your front door.
“One more question.” You turn to face him again. “Can I use your bathroom?” You sigh and open the door, directing him the right way and stay in the hallway so he doesn’t sneak anywhere else for a snoop. You hear the cistern flush and the squeak of the faucet, but you also hear the sound of the medicine cabinet being opened. Yep, he’s snooping. A few moments later he steps out of the bathroom and thanks you as he leaves your house.
You head straight into the kitchen and start the coffee machine; you then grab a detector out of the kitchen drawer and head into the bathroom. Using it to detect for a bug, which you find in the cupboard under the sink and leave it there. You have a get out your phone and send a message, one you’ve prearranged with Bucky, telling him about the bug.
‘Can’t wait to see your reaction when you see what I have on under my dress (followed) tonight. You’re not gonna be able to keep your cool or your hands (Suspicious) to yourself’
‘New lingerie?” (Bug?)
‘Maybe (yes), but you’re gonna have to wait and see’
‘Can’t wait’ (Understood)
You’re gonna have to start your charade earlier than anticipated and act like a real couple. I suppose there are worse things in life than pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky. You can’t deny that the dude is hot.
You pretend to use the bathroom by slowly pouring a bottle of water in the toilet, flushing and washing your hands. Then you head back into the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee.
Bucky arrives home a short while later, carrying a bouquet of roses (Sam’s idea) and gives you a kiss. You feel a little twinge in your stomach, feeling his lips on yours. His kiss is light and sweet.
Feeling your lips on his sends a thrill through Bucky, the feelings he’s been trying to hide for years bubbling to the surface and he has to stop himself deepening the kiss.
“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen babe, I’m going to start getting ready. No peeking!” You say and head upstairs.
Bucky stays downstairs to drink a coffee and makes a few phone calls, all in character of course, before heading upstairs to get into his tux which takes only a few minutes. He’s back in the living room in less than ten minutes, waiting for you join him.
Bucky isn’t downstairs for very long before he hears your heels on the upper landing and stands up to greet you but at seeing you, his breath hitches in his throat.
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(This is the dress you wear)
“You’re fucking stunning!” Bucky breathes out, causing you to grin.
“Not too bad yourself James.” You reply as you walk down the stairs and take his outstretched hand.
You arrive at the house in the Hamptons, impressed with the size of the place, hanging on to Bucky’s arm. The size of it is really impressive and you live in Avengers Tower.
Bucky thinks that he must thank Natasha for picking out that dress. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. Bucky knows he needs to remain professional, but he really wants to get his hands on you and bring you pleasure like you’ve never known. He won’t have any problem pretending to be your lover tonight, because that’s the only thing he wants.
The party is in full swing an hour later, you’ve mingled with everyone, hanging on Bucky’s arm, acting like he’s your entire world. And to him, you are his world. It’s not acting, he’s crazy about you and has been since you met.
Another forty-five minutes go by with the both of you all over each other, giving you a reason to sneak off at some point, to find the intel you’re there to get.
Bucky’s arm is around your waist, holding you close to him as you leave the “ballroom” where the party is. You’re acting the part really well, practically hanging off of him, hands wandering. Walking down the hallway, still all over each other, opening doors looking for a place to have some privacy. Some rooms are all occupied, but the one you’re looking for is empty, Vizzini’s office. As soon as you’re in the room and you part ways, straight back to business, heading for his desk and turning on his computer. Plugging a USB drive you take off of your bracelet into it, and copying the files.
“Heads up Buck, Carlo is on his way and he’s not alone.” Sam says over comms. The last file copies just in time, and you attach the USB back to the bracelet and walk back around the desk.
“Shit!” Bucky says. “We’re gonna get caught!”
Your brain works quickly, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” You say as you switch the computer off.
Bucky nods. “Okay.” You pull him over to the wall beside the door and lean against it. You reach up under your dress and remove your underwear, Bucky’s eyes bulge out of his head. You throw your panties in the vicinity of the desk and reach down to undo Bucky’s pants. “What are you doing?!” He asks.
“I told you to trust me, I’ll get us out of this.” You unbutton his slacks and bunch up your skirt a little. “Lift me.” You instruct. Bucky catches on and lifts you, so your legs are wrapped around his waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “Go with it okay?” You say. Bucky gulps but nods and your lips meet in a searing kiss that makes you both moan out loud into each others' mouths. His hips begin to move instinctively, playing the part of a man who can’t keep his hands off of his girl. Bucky feels an usual sensation, kind of like a happiness he’s never felt before. As quick as he feels it, it goes away again.
You’re moaning loudly, alternating between passionate kisses and heavy breathing when Vizzini opens the door to his office and “catches” you, entering the room with two burly bodyguards. You gasp and fake panic.
“What the…?” He exclaims, his eyes bogging out of his head before he composes himself and continues. “This is my office, not a motel room!” You giggle. “This is not a laughing matter young lady, this is very inappropriate behaviour!” Bucky lifts you and places your heeled feet back on the floor and helps you rearrange your dress before tucking his shirt back into his slacks.
“We’re sorry Mr Vizzini, but when your girl looks like this, you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.” Bucky says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.
“But this is my office!” Vizzini says, exasperatedly.
“We’re sorry but other rooms were occupied!” You say with a smirk. Vizzini nods and the two bodyguards rush out of the room, they return moments later, both red faced.
Vizzini nods again and turns to you. “We will not mention this again and our meeting Tuesday will go ahead.” Vizzini says. Before sitting at his desk and making a choked sound. “I think these belong to you.” He says, pointing to the black lace panties that had landed on the keyboard of his computer. You giggle and retrieve them from his desk, biting your lip as you do.
“Sorry again!” You giggle as Bucky wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the office. You head back to the party, makes it seem less like obvious that you’re involved in espionage.
You both carry on playing the devoted couple, you’re hanging off of him like someone who can’t get enough of their man. Sneaking kisses here and there, selling the bit. Vizzini reappears a little while later and blushes when you and he make eye contact, you smirk back at him and pull Bucky in for a kiss. It’s after midnight by the time your car has pulled up outside and you’ve said your goodbyes.
You’re still all over each other as you get into the car, smiling and waving to everyone as the car pulls away. You keep the act up until you’re on your way out of the Hamptons and on the free way before you separate, in case you were followed. You stay close to each other just so you can snap back together quickly if you noticed someone watching you or for when you get back to the brownstone that is your “residence” at least until this mission is over.
You can smell Bucky’s cologne and it’s been invading your nostrils since you walked down the stairs before leaving in the early evening. It’s lingering on your skin from how you’ve been all over each other all night. You recognise it as Sauvage, one of your absolute favourites. You can’t remember Bucky ever wearing it before, he’s usually a Hugo Boss guy, which is another of your favourites. You momentarily let your control slip (not for the first time this evening) and imagine what it would be like, to have Bucky’s affections and let happiness bloom inside you, but you stop it as soon as you feel it reaching your face.
Bucky has put so much effort into hiding how he feels, he feels like he’s suffocating right now. He feels something again, like a happiness that he’s never felt before. But it disappeared as quickly as he feels it. The truth is drowning him and he needs to tell you how he feels, the thought actually terrifies him though. What if you reject him? What if you don’t feel the same way?
He needs to talk to Steve, find out how to approach this because he can’t lose you before he’s even had you. The car pulls up to your brownstone and you both get out, his arm around your shoulders as you head up the steps. “I need to go run a quick errand I’ll be back soon, wait up for me?” Bucky asks.
“Of course, baby, I’ll see you when you get back.” You reply with a kiss on the lips, smiling at him as you unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself and leaning against the door with a sigh.
Bucky runs to the bodega on the corner and uses their pay phone, making sure that he’s concealed before dialling.
“Hello…?” Steve answers on the fourth ring, his voice scratchy with sleep.
“How do I tell her? After everything, what do I say?” Bucky’s words are rushed out, not even telling Steve that it’s him.
Steve lets out a sigh. “Buck, just say what you feel. Honestly is the best policy. She needs to know what you feel is real and not because of what you’re both living right now. Open up, I think she will be more open than you expect. I’m going back to sleep now.” Steve hangs up and Bucky is more determined than ever.
He grabs a bottle of wine and some other items so it looks like he had a legit reason to be in the bodega, pays and heads back to your brownstone.
He unlocks the door, you’re not in the living room when he gets back so he quickly takes off the jacket of his tux and goes into the kitchen and puts the items he bought away. Bucky rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up his arms, grabs two glasses and opens the wine then heads upstairs.
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You’re in your bedroom, you’ve taken off your dress and are wearing a short black silk robe. He walks in with the wine and goes to speak but the words die in his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes the door, you raise an eyebrow but take one of the wine glasses off of him as he pours the red wine into it. He pours his own, puts the bottle down and takes a big gulp from his glass.
“We need to talk.” The words rush out with his breath.
“About what?” You reply.
“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, looking straight in your eyes. “I act like I don’t trust you because it’s easier than admitting the truth, but the truth is what you deserve so here goes…” You look at him expectantly. Bucky takes another deep breath before he continues. “I like you and I have since we met, and it scared me because I’ve never caught feelings that quickly before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings like I have for you, with anyone. I think I…” he stops himself.
“You think you what?” You nudge.
“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
You look into his eyes and the cerulean blue shows nothing but sincerity. He means it. He loves you. You contemplate telling him how you feel but actions speak louder than words.
You walk to Bucky, standing in front of him. You lick your lips he looks into your eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. He reaches out for you, his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you closer. His lips brush yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You look into each others eyes and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him closer and planting a firm kiss on his lips.
Your lips feel like they were made to kiss his, they slot together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. He sighs contentedly as your lips open to allow his tongue access, your tongues dance together, caressing each other as your bodies get even closer.
Something snaps in Bucky and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards until he’s against the wall. He spins you around and pushes you against the wall, breaking the kiss and leaving you panting for breath.
“I need you to say that you want this, please say you want this. I can’t bear one more moment without touching you.” Bucky says breathlessly.
“I want it, I want you.” You say and reach out for him again. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and sinks to his knees. He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee which makes you shudder. “Fuck!” You moan out as his mouth kisses up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your centre. Bucky lifts your robe and groans out loud, noticing that you never replaced the underwear you removed in Vizzini’s office. He grabs your knee and lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and moving his mouth to your mound, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. “Holy shit!!” You moan out and grab Bucky’s head with one hand and scratching at the wall with the other.
Bucky groans at your taste and begins to practically make out with your pussy, his eyes glassed over as your juices drip down his chin. His uses two fingers on his flesh hand and teases your hole, gathering your slick until he can sink them into you, straight to the knuckle. He’s eating you with such fierce ferocity and fucking you with his fingers so passionately that your orgasm builds quickly. “I’m not gonna last much longer.. I’m gonna…” a long moan escapes your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You shudder and shake, struggling to breathe as you ride the waves of your climax, your cunt pulsating around his fingers.
Bucky’s oral ministrations slow as your orgasm dies down, and your breathing returns to normal. He removes his fingers and your leg from his shoulder, stands and unbuttons his shirt before removing it and using it to wipe his face. He stands there in a white vest, his face flushed and looks at you adoringly. Bucky undoes your robe and lets it fall off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bra. You reach out and undo his pants, pushing them down leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. You can see his erection straining the fabric, you want nothing more than to take what you can tell is an impressive member out of his underwear and show him how good your head game is. Bucky however has other ideas.
“Take off the bra, please. I need to see all of you.” He says, his eyes still glassy. You oblige and he groans out loud, he steps forward and pushes you against the wall again. He takes your left breast in his hand and massages gently, causing you to arch into him. He lowers his head and takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the tight bud with his tongue. Bucky stops and plants a searing kiss on your mouth, it’s sloppy, full of teeth and tongues. He pushes his underwear down as you’re kissing, depriving your view.
You still don’t get a glimpse as he grabs your ass and lifts you, your legs automatically going around his waist as you continue your assault on each others' mouths, it’s like you can’t get enough. Bucky breaks off the kiss as he looks into your eyes, the both of you are heavy breathing already. “Ready?” He asks, you nod. “Words baby.”
“Yes please!” You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering as much of your creamy slick as he can. Before notching inside you, your eyes roll back in your head as he slides into your wet cunt, painstakingly slowly. He wants you to feel every inch, every vein, the way he throbs for you. Once he bottoms out in you, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms are around Bucky’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. You’ve never felt so full, so… complete. There’s a slight sting and burn, you can only assume but there’s a very good chance that he’s big and girthy.
Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before he begins to move, sliding out of you, almost completely before sinking into you again. The air is knocked from your lungs, you feel amazing as his cock slides in and out of you at an agonisingly slow pace. You moan out loud at the sensation.
“Faster!” You groan out, frustrated at how slow he’s fucking you.
“All in good time, I need to feel you.” Bucky moans out, but pretty soon he can’t just revel in the feeling. He needs to move faster, chasing his end. His hips snap up quicker and your moaning increases in volume, that heat in your belly building again with each thrust of his hips.
Bucky takes your mouth again, kissing you with all of him as he fucks into you with abandon. Your moans and tongues intertwined, your heavy breathing entering each others' mouths. Your hands carding through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently on the strands at the nape of his neck. Each time you do it makes his hips thrust harder and makes him grunt. But you have to stop after a minute as the heat blooming in your belly expands more until it can go no further.
It snaps and blooms upward and downward, sending heat to your toes and making you see white. Your climax makes your head roll back and you let out a scream of pleasure. There’s a new sensation as your orgasm hits, the feeling of white-hot heat spreading through him. Happiness, love, every positive feeling ever shoots through him and the spasms of your cunt around his cock, prematurely sets off his orgasm. He has wanted to draw another two or three from you before his end but he can’t hold it back.
He roars out, even the way your climax muffled your hearing you heard him. You’ve never heard anything like that, the sound was primal, animalistic. Your breathing slows and you lower your head to look at him, he’s staring back at you, looking completely fucked out, but so do you.
“You okay baby?” Bucky asks, breathing heavily and pulling your face towards him so he can kiss you. You can’t even speak, you just about nod before he lifts you off the wall and carries you over to the bed. He lays you down and pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, which makes you whine. He goes into your en suite and grabs a washcloth to clean you up, before joining you on the bed. He pulls you close and you snuggle into his warm body, your hand rests on his chest, just above his heart.
Happiness blooms in his chest once more, a content feeling. He realises that you’re projecting onto him with your abilities but you’re too out of it to realise. The feeling is one of pureness, a feeling of love. Bucky realises he has had this feeling before, many times, the first time was the day he met you. He really did feel love at first sight, he didn’t think it was possible but it happened. And now you both knew how the other felt, there’s no way he was going to go back to the way it was. And you’re not leaving SHIELD. Not unless he leaves with you, because from now on, you are one.
THE END?
Posted 23/04/2024
163 notes · View notes
mooshywrites · 2 months
Text
Echoes of Love and Loss
Fem!Reader x Halsin
Masterlist
Art commissions
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A/N - A massive thank you to @thoughts-of-bear for working with me on this prompt. Im really excited about making a series out of this and hope it’s everything you envisioned <3
Word count - 4K
Warnings - Angst, Jealousy, Smut next chapter
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“You’re mine”
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The party in your camp tonight was going to be like no other.
You could feel the energy vibrating through the air, a palpable buzz of excitement and relief after the long and grueling battle against Kethric Thorm and his cursed Shadowlands. Your group of companions were exhausted but excited as they made their way back to camp, already envisioning the celebration that waited for them. Wyll and Shadowheart were laughing and joking about needing a case or two of wine, Astarion was whining good-naturedly about how the outdoors were no place for a proper party, Lae'zel was grumbling impatiently about the need to make haste to Baldur's Gate, and Gale was eagerly discussing his latest theories on Elder Brain behavior with anyone who would listen
As you approached the Last Light Inn, you couldn't help but notice the change in atmosphere. Before the fight at moonrise towers, the mood was grim. Voices were hushed and nervous, weary of how much loss everyone had endured in the shadow curse.
But now, inside the tavern, the mood was lively. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, eagerly recounting tales from the recent battle and celebrating the lifting of the curse. Jahiera and her Harpers, along with the gnomes and tiefling, had already set off for Baldur's Gate, taking advantage of the newfound freedom from darkness and danger. You hoped the road wouldn’t be too hard on the. Almost everyone in the group had gone through enough to deserve a little bit of relaxed travel.
You scanned the small crowd, searching for Halsin's familiar figure among the faces. He had gone ahead of the group and you knew he was probably deep in thought. Since the fight at Moonrise Towers, he had been unusually quiet, a stark contrast to his normally talkative nature. Though you had noticed he was a bit standoffish before the fight, his usually guarded demeanor now seemed impenetrable. It was clear that something was troubling him deeply.
As you approached him, you couldn't help but notice the uncertainty in his eyes. They flickered with conflicting emotions, giving away his inner turmoil. He avoided your gaze, barely acknowledging your presence as he continued to walk forward. It was as if he didn't know how to face you anymore, or perhaps he was struggling with something that he couldn't share with anyone else. The air between you felt heavy with unspoken words and the tension was palpable.
The sting of disappointment was undeniable, a sharp ache in your heart. You hadn’t even been able to say anything to him before he had stalked off into the tavern.
Despite knowing better, you couldn't help but feel drawn to Halsin above all the others. When he let his guard down, he was an enchanting storyteller and a great listener. His skill with a knife was mesmerizing, transforming any simple piece of wood you brought him into a work of art. He’d sit with you and discuss the day, giving you advice on the various issues you came across on the journey thus far. And on rare occasions, when the night was still and the stars twinkled above, he would share songs he knew with you, his voice laced with a subtle hint of sorrow.
You both knew that he carried the weight of guilt for the curse in the shadowlands. He blamed himself, as if he had shirked his duties as a Druid and failed to protect the gifts given to the world by Silvanus.
The shadowland curse was a dark stain on his heart. A stone wall separating the two of you. You were hoping with the curse gone, perhaps that wall would’ve crumbled.
Of course, it seemed that hope would’ve been far too easy.
You took in a deep breath and steeled yourself. It wasn’t fair to expect the Druid to have deeper feelings for you if he simply didn’t. Halsin owed you nothing. Besides that, the connection you craved from him would probably bring more harm than good.
You couldn’t save the whole of Baldur’s Gate if you were falling over yourself to get approval from someone.
You tried to shake the thoughts from your head, slightly annoyed that the insecurities had dug deep enough into your mind that they threatened your mood. No, tonight you were going to have fun, no strings attached. You needed to ignore the ache in your chest so it wouldn’t ruin what you and your companions had accomplished.
What you really needed was a strong drink.
It didn’t take long to find a source of alcohol. Shadowheart and Wyll had lined up a few glasses and broken open a wine barrel, chatting casually as they sipped.
As you joined Shadowheart and Wyll at the makeshift bar, pouring yourself a glass of wine, you tried to push Halsin to the back of your mind. You listened half-heartedly to their banter, letting the sound of their laughter fill the space between your own troubled thoughts. The wine was sweet on your tongue, a welcome distraction from the inner turmoil that threatened to consume you. With each sip, you felt a little bit lighter, a little less burdened by the weight of your unrequited feelings.
But just as you were beginning to relax into the warmth of the alcohol, a familiar voice cut through the haze of noise in the tavern. "You look troubled, my friend," Wyll said softly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself as you met his gaze. “I... I'm fine,” you replied, willing yourself to sound convincing. But Wyll just gave you a pitying smile.
“You know, a case of wine and a good dance always lightens my night when I feel how you look.” He grinned.
Shadowheart scoffed, “I hope that wasn’t your attempt at flattering her.”
You gave Shadowheart a small smile, tucking your hair behind your ears. You knew Wyll had meant no harm by the comment, you probably did look disheveled by both your drinking and feelings.
“I was simply saying that we can’t let our companion stand here and drink looking this sad. Not after we literally just fought and survived a battle with the God of Death.” Wyll protested.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that dance, then.” You giggled, your tipsiness making words difficult to form, “I’m quite good you know, at dancing, I mean.”
“You are?” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows.
“Mhm” You shrugged, “I started learning to dance to help with agility. It turns out, I’m a better dancer than I am a fighter.”
“I should’ve guessed.” Wyll teased before holding out his hands, “Well then, show me how good of a dancer you are, o’ savior of the shadowlands?”
A small giggle escaped your lips as you took his hand, letting him guide you in a gentle spin. The warmth of his touch against your skin was comforting, filling the void in your chest with a sense of contentment.
Whether it was the wine or just pure exhaustion, being held by someone felt like a relief. Wyll's hand rested securely on your waist, his lips humming a simple waltz as he twirled you around the open floor. Despite the buzz of voices and laughter around you, it seemed like no one paid much attention to your dancing. Your feet moved effortlessly in sync with Wyll's rhythm, following his lead without hesitation. As he pulled you closer during the next spin, you found yourself leaning into him, seeking more of that closeness that eased your heartache.
But then, as your gaze wandered around the room, you caught sight of Halsin standing in the corner with his arms tightly crossed over his chest, his eyes locked onto where Wyll's hand rested on your waist. A tension filled the air between the three of you, making your once carefree thoughts feel heavy.
Halsin's gaze was like a thunderstorm, dark and brooding as it bore into your intertwined figures on the dance floor. The lively atmosphere of the tavern seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the weight of his stare pressing down on you. You felt rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from his piercing look. The unspoken words hung heavy between you, suffocating any semblance of joy that had filled your heart just moments ago.
As Wyll led you in another twirl, you could sense the tension in Halsin growing palpable. His jaw clenched tightly, his stance rigid as if he were battling some internal conflict. The music that had once filled your ears now seemed distant and muffled, drowned out by the deafening silence that enveloped you and Halsin.
Before you could even process what was happening, Halsin abruptly turned on his heels and strode out of the tavern, disappearing into the night without a word.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him leave. What on earth could that have been about? Your tipsy mind wondered if you had done something to offend him. If something you said or did at moonrise towers had made him hate you. Why else would he have been looking at you with such intensity?
Wyll clearing his throat brought you back into the moment, it was as if you had forgotten for a moment that you were dancing with him. Wyll gave you a knowing look and a soft smile as he let you go.
“You should go after him.” He prodded gently.
“What do you mean?” You asked, looking back at the doorway.
“I mean, you only look at someone the way Halsin looked at you for one reason.” Wyll muttered
“What reason is that?” You stuttered, still not grasping the situation.
“Just go talk to him.” Wyll sighed, giving you a gentle nudge towards the door.
Then he walked back to Shadowheart, leaving you to make the decision to follow Halsin or not on your own. You stared back at the doorway, silently contemplating before you took a breath and walked out.
The crisp night air enveloped your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The full moon glowed brightly in the sky, casting a silvery light over the landscape. The stars twinkled like scattered gemstones, creating a peaceful and serene atmosphere. The whole scene made you feel a little calmer as you made your way further from the tavern, trying to see where the Druid may have gone.
The soft rustling of leaves caught your attention, and you followed the sound into the dense thicket on the outskirts of the camp. The moonlight filtered through the canopy of trees, casting intricate patterns on the forest floor as you ventured deeper into the shadows.
You called out Halsin's name, the sound of your voice swallowed by the silent embrace of the night. A lone owl hooted in response, its haunting call echoing through the stillness of the woods.
As you nervously pushed past a tangle of branches, you finally caught sight of Halsin standing at the edge of a moonlit clearing. His back was turned to you, his silhouette outlined by the ethereal glow of the moon. He seemed lost in thought, his shoulders drooping with an air of resignation.
You approached him slowly, unsure of what to say or how to break the heavy silence that hung between you. The distance between you felt like an insurmountable chasm, filled with unspoken words and unvoiced emotions that threatened to suffocate you both. Halsin didn't turn as you drew nearer, his gaze fixed on the moonlit clearing ahead.
“Halsin,” you called out softly, your voice barely above a whisper in the stillness of the night.
He stiffened at the sound of your voice, but still didn't face you. The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible as you stood just a few feet away from him. You could feel the weight of his emotions hanging heavy in the air, and it made your heart ache with a mixture of guilt and longing.
“I... I didn't mean to upset you,” you began, your words hesitant as you struggled to find the right thing to say. “I don't know what I did, but if I hurt you in any way, I'm truly sorry.”
Finally, Halsin turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. His eyes held a storm of emotions, swirling with a mix of anger, hurt, and something else that you couldn't quite place. The lines on his face seemed deeper, as if the weight of the world had settled there. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unbridgeable gap.
“You didn't upset me,” he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. “It's not about what you did. It's about what you make me feel.”
Confusion clouded your foggy mind as you tried to decipher his words. What did he mean by that? What feelings were stirring within him because of you?
Halsin sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I've tried to deny it, to bury it deep inside me. Try to ignore it outright, even. But seeing you with him...” He trailed off, unable to voice the turmoil raging inside him.
“With him?” You repeated softly, feeling a flicker of understanding dawn within you.
Halsin nodded, his gaze falling to the ground below as he spoke. "Yes, with him. Wyll. When I saw you with him, a part of me... a part of me wishes it were me dancing with you. A part of me wishes I could hold you close without being afraid."
His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of his confession settling over you like a shroud. You stood there, stunned by his revelation, your mind racing with a mix of emotions. The image of Halsin, always so composed and stoic, baring his soul to you was both heartbreaking and yet intoxicating.
“I... I didn't know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the silence of the night. “I thought you didn’t see me as anything other than an ally against The Absolute.”
Halsin finally turned to face you fully, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your arms. “I know,” he said softly, his voice raw with emotion. “I've kept my feelings hidden for so long. I thought I didn’t deserve to start falling in love with someone after how I had let the curse fester here. I thought I didn’t deserve you.” He grimaced.
“But seeing you tonight, seeing the way you laughed and danced with Wyll, it broke something inside me. It made me realize that maybe, just maybe, I do deserve a chance at happiness.” Halsin's voice was filled with a vulnerability you had never seen in him before. The moonlight bathed his face in a soft glow, highlighting the raw honesty etched in his features.
Your heart swelled with a myriad of emotions, the weight of his words echoing in your chest. You reached out tentatively, closing the distance between you and placing a hand on his arm. “Halsin, I... I don't know what to say.” Your voice wavered as you struggled to find the right words to convey the whirlwind of feelings swirling within you.
He gazed down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection or acceptance. “Please, just tell me the truth, my heart. Tell me if there's any chance for us, if there's any hope for a future where we can be more than just allies. Say the word and I’ll never bring this up again. We can be friends in the very least.” His voice was filled with a plea, a silent prayer that hung in the air between you like an unspoken promise. You felt the weight of his gaze on you, his vulnerability laid bare before you, and it stirred something deep within your heart.
As you looked into his eyes, searching for your own truths, a rush of memories flooded your mind. The moments shared together, the laughter, the quiet conversations under the moonlight. You realized that the connection you felt with Halsin ran far far deeper than mere friendship. It was an unspoken bond that had been quietly growing, nurtured by shared experiences and unspoken understanding.
Taking a deep breath, you met his gaze with hesitence. “Halsin,” you began, your voice unsteady from the tumult of emotions swirling within you. “I... I don't know what the future holds for us. But I do know that what I feel for you goes beyond friendship.”
You looked away, the sobering reality of your situation filling your mind again.
“But the cult… saving Baldur’s Gate. If it came to a moment’s decision, could you choose the fate of thousands over my own? Could we really save the people we need to save if we’re too focused on each other?”
Halsin's expression softened at your words, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes even at your hesitance. He reached out to gently lift your chin, guiding your gaze back to meet his.
“Love has a way of giving us the strength we never knew we had. Together, we can face whatever challenges come our way, even if one of us is lost.” He said, his voice filled with conviction
The moonlight seemed to dance around the two of you as you stood there, caught in a moment suspended in time. The weight of the world and the responsibilities pressing down on you felt distant, overshadowed by the warmth of Halsin's touch and the affection that was beginning to bloom between you.
“It won't be easy,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you gazed into his eyes, seeing a reflection of your own fears and hopes mirrored back at you. “But I want to try. I want to see where this could lead us.”
Halsin smiled, a smile that reached his eyes and filled your chest with warmth.
The two of you stood for a moment, locked in each other’s gaze, a mere breath from each other before Halsin let out a soft chuckle.
“It can’t be any harder than seeing you in Wyll’s arms.” He teased, pulling you gently into his arms.
You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as a wave of relief washed over you. The weight that had settled on your shoulders seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of lightness and freedom.
"Who knew a old bear like you could be so jealous," you replied with a playful grin, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin.
“Jealous?” Halsin murmured thoughtfully. “I would not call it jealousness, my heart. Merely possessiveness.”
His tone was half an octave lower and your breath caught slightly. You could feel how Halsin’s arms ever so slightly tightened around you. You wondered how far you you could push the Druid’s buttons, the wine making you bolder than you might’ve been.
“I guess I'll have to test just how possessive you can get,” you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye as you playfully pushed against his chest, reveling in the way his grip tightened around you in response. The air between you crackled with a newfound tension, the unspoken desire that simmered beneath the surface now palpable in the moonlit clearing.
Halsin's gaze darkened slightly, a mixture of amusement and something more primal flickering in his eyes. “Careful, my heart,” he warned in a low voice, the rumble sending a shiver down your spine. “You might just awaken a side of me you're not quite ready for.”
A thrill shot through you at his words, the prospect of unraveling the composed facade he wore so effortlessly enticing.
The intensity of his earlier confession still hung thick in the air, your chest pressed tightly against his own. You couldn’t find the words for a smart retort as you looked up into his eyes, lost in his expression.
Your eyes flicked to his lips, absentmindedly wondering about how the little scar there would feel against your tongue.
As if sensing your thoughts, Halsin’s eyes darkened.
The air between you crackled with anticipation, the tension thick and charged with unspoken desire. With a sudden surge of courage, you closed the distance between your lips and his, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the taste of him, the feel of his arms around you pulling you closer.
Halsin responded eagerly, his restraint crumbling under the weight of the moment. The warmth of his body pressed against yours ignited a fire within you that blazed fiercely, consuming every doubt and fear in its path. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, a silent exchange of passion and longing that spoke volumes more than any words ever could.
As the kiss deepened, time seemed to stand still. When you finally pulled away for a moment, you were breathless.
Halsin’s eyes stayed locked on yours, his face still close enough for you to see the flecks of gold in his iris.
“You’re mine.” He murmured.
You blinked in surprise, trying to ignore the way his words sent a flurry of goosebumps across your skin.
His gaze was possessive and heated, the feelings he had while seeing you with Wyll obviously still nagging at his thoughts.
You paused, searching his eyes as the anticipation rose in your chest. As the heat pooled in your stomach.
“Prove it then.” you whispered.
He didn’t need further encouragement. With a fierce determination in his eyes, Halsin lifted you effortlessly off the forest floor and carried you deeper into the heart of sparse woods. The moonlight guided your path as you clung to him, your heart racing with a mix of fear and exhilaration.
As he found a secluded wrapped in a blanket of new and soft grass, he gently set you down, his gaze never leaving yours. The air around you was thick with desire, tension swirling between you like a tempest waiting to break free.
Without a word, Halsin captured your lips in another searing kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepened the connection between you. Every touch felt electric, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins.
The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. The rustling leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures formed a haunting symphony to accompany the unbridled passion that burned between you.
Halsin leaned further against you, settling between your legs. Your mind began to cloud with need, everything about the Druid enveloping you completely.
Halsin pulled back for just a moment, staring down at you hungrily.
“I promise you, when tonight is over, you will have no doubts of who you belong to.”
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Pt 2
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mochie85 · 5 months
Note
As part of your 1k celebrations I would like to submit the following prompt for consideration 😁♥️ feel free to bend it to your will.
Your colleague Loki finds himself in your rooms at Stark Tower for (fairly) innocent reasons.
You arrive back unexpectedly. He hides, at first.
✨✨
Fairly Innocent
One Shot Masterlist | Follower Event Masterlist | Complete Masterlist
A/N: I apologize, with my whole heart, that it has taken me this long to finish this request. So long, that I have reached a new milestone since this request was made. But I hope you enjoy it. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Explicit. Smut, hand job, oral (female receiving), slight DOM vibes, voyeurism, shower scene, mention of 'toys'. Happy ending. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
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Your room was dark and cold. The curtains were shut leaving a small sliver of light shining from the cityscape outside. There was a stillness in the air from being untouched the last two weeks. “Now, where did she put you?” Loki hummed while looking around your room. He wandered in, using the access code you had given him. His prying eyes scanned and noted how orderly you left your room. And even after some time away, the room still smelled like you. Like citrus blooms on a winter morning.
Loki lent you some practice daggers a while ago and was keen to get them back. They were dull and lightweight. Perfect for beginner enthusiasts like the Widow, who wanted to add a new skill to her ledger. Whom Loki had promised to train, alongside you, in Asgardian combat.
Loki rummaged through your bookshelves, thinking you might have stashed them along with your books and souvenirs from your travels. He knew you loved to read. Your voracious appetite for mysteries and novels rivaled his own. He noted Robert Frost and Agatha Christie situated alongside the many romance novels.
Peculiar, he thought. He’d never known you to be interested in such fiction. You two had always discussed classic literature or Asgardian poetry. A Cheshire grin appeared on his face as he took a book with brightly colored Post-it notes sticking out of the top pages. He opened the paperback to a dog-eared page that was clearly read and reread extensively.
Lucy moaned as Cade’s fingers dipped inside her wet pussy. Trills of pleasure ran up her spine, making her unable to stand any longer. He gently stroked her as he whispered on her neck, “Don’t fight it, baby. Let go for me.”
Loki shut the book closed with wide eyes and a wider grin on his face. “Well, well, well. Who knew that the Avenger’s little darling liked to read smut?!” He said to himself looking at the volumes of romance books you had. He was quite impressed by your ability to surprise him. He thought he had you figured out. He might have to tease you about this when you return from your mission.
Loki searched your closet next, but he couldn’t find the daggers. He combed through hangers of clothing and shelves of shoe boxes till he stumbled upon several silk bags with rope tie enclosures. One bag had the length and shape of the daggers he was searching for. How sweet of her to care for the daggers and stash them in a silk purse. Loki opened the bag and reached in but was again surprised at what he found.
He pulled out a black, patent leather collar with a gold buckle. Glistening under the bright closet light, was a heart-shaped tag, hanging from the center. The name ‘Darling’ was inscribed in cursive. Stunned, Loki looked inside the sateen bag and pulled out what he mistook for his daggers- a short, riding crop that matched the patent leather of the collar. Hanging from the handle was a gold chain that had a tag etched, ‘Darling’s Master.’
An intrusive fantasy came unbidden in his mind. It was of you on all fours, with the collar adorning your neck and him standing behind you rubbing the tip of the crop against your dripping heat. “What other deliciousness are you hiding, my dear?” he whispered as he stowed the collar and whip and reached for another silk purse. Every bag he opened had a different set of negligees. Each one was more lascivious than the last.
The smile on his lips got darker as his body started responding to the different scenarios playing in his head. Each scene- novel and unique, to the set of lingerie he opened. More than once, he had to stop himself from reaching inside and rubbing the fine lace between his fingers. “Nope! No,” he chided himself. “Focus. I’m here for the daggers.” Loki took one last look and walked away before he could swipe one of your lace panties and put it in his back pocket like some pervert. “Daggers. Daggers…where are you daggers…”
He couldn’t stop smiling at the revelation he found. Memories of his last interaction with you played in his head under a new context. It was as if he was seeing you in a different light. Truth be told, he did always find you attractive. But he never once pursued it thinking it wouldn’t be favored by you, or any of the team. You didn’t get the title “The Avenger’s Little Darling” for nothing. You were beloved by all. And he was the untrustworthy, extra baggage that the team had to deal with so they could have Thor on their side.
He knew he couldn’t have you.
One last place he looked was your bedside table. If it’s not here, she must have taken them with her. Opening the drawer, Loki shouldn’t have been surprised at what he found, but he felt an exhilarating chill crawl throughout his body, nonetheless. A vibrator. A large, blue, silicone toy that was tapered at the end, was resting neatly inside. You naughty little minx.
Loki couldn’t help the state of arousal he was in. He stood up and stared at your toy, his fingers running puzzled against his lips. He imagined you spread on your bed, lost in the throes of your passion. What do you think about when you have your toy tucked inside your wet cunt? Who’s name do you moan when you’re at the edge of your climax about to fall? And how can he conspire to make sure you think of him?
Surprised, Loki looked up as he heard the keypad of your door unlocking. In a senseless rush, he closed your drawer and cloaked himself invisible. He didn’t want anyone to find him snooping around your belongings. He stood still as he blended with the shadows of your room.
He shouldn’t have hid. You did give him the access code to your room. You trusted him enough to be in here. But there was something so intimate about the things he found. He felt exposed and guilty. Loki didn’t want anyone to think of him being nefarious with you.
A small sigh of relief flooded him when he realized it was you, back from your assignment. He opened his mouth to speak and announce his presence, but he couldn’t. So many questions rushed through his mind. He wanted to ask all of them! Yet, he was struck immovable by your presence.
Had you always been so lovely? Had your eyes always been that bright and alluring? Your smile, an invitation for his lips?
Were his discoveries about you finally shedding light as to who you might be, underneath the perfect façade you seem to have cultivated for yourself? Everything he found was, he swore to the gods, erotic and arousing. But it was the fact that you surprised him that made his level of attraction to you grow.
You walked in with a heavy sigh, setting your duffel bag down on your bed and your boots onto the floor. You didn’t bother turning on your lights, as you zipped your body suit down and peeled off your armor. A rather tame set of black lace underwear shaped your body. Your exposed skin turned a rich shade in the darkness of your room.
Loki noted some bruises and scars peppering your body. The fresh welts were colored green and blue indicating they were recent and most likely acquired from your latest mission. You massaged your neck and rolled your shoulders trying to ease the ache settling into your bones.
Loki watched as you made your way, routinely, to your en suite and turned on the lights. A loud rush of water from the shower rumbled through, disturbing the silence that had enveloped you both. It took his entire strength as a god to keep standing where he was and not follow you to watch.
New fantasies came unbidden in his mind of you naked and wet in the shower. I need to leave. I need to depart before I do something that both of us would regret.  He waited till he heard you close your shower door. The water made loud splashes as it hit against different curves of your body.
A few more minutes and Loki found he could move again. With a shaky breath, he exhaled and made his way to your door. He would’ve continued if it weren’t for your small sighs. Soft moans and whimpers traveled to his god-like hearing. She’s touching herself?!
Loki balled his fist to elicit pain. His fingernails dug deep into the pad of his palms, trying to overcome the overwhelming state of arousal he was in.
“…Loki…”
He stopped and nearly fell to his knees. You said his name! The honeyed tones of your moans dripped over him. Coating his entire body in primal need until it reached his cock and hardened.
He couldn’t leave now. He wouldn’t. He turned on his heel and slowly lifted his cloak, risking everything by pushing the door slightly more open.
Loki licked his lips at the sight of you lost in your orgasm. Your head was thrown back as water trickled down your body. The droplets guiding his eyes down…
…down…
…to where your fingers played with your aching cunt. Your hands explored your curves. Every dip. Every hollow. Every scrumptious mound that he wanted to devour himself.
He stood at your en suite door, his arms holding the frame above his head. He didn’t trust himself to come closer to you. Not until you allowed it. Not until you saw how his eyes became ravenous at the sight of you touching yourself to thoughts of him.
“Loki!? What the hell are you doing?” you screamed out, startled. His eyes traveled back up to yours as you finally acknowledged his presence. Your body turned flush from the heat of the water and the embarrassing situation you found yourself in.
Loki freed himself from your door and tried to answer. Nothing came out but a quivering breath and a small growl of desire. His eyes narrowed and he bit his lip. He took a step forward and closed your bathroom door behind him making your heart drop.  He slowly made his way to you. Sluggish feet carrying him across your tiled floors. “Don’t stop on my account, Darling.”
“Why are you here?” you demanded.
“I heard you call out my name. And I am nothing if not a benevolent god who answers your prayers.” It was as if a switch was turned on and Loki couldn’t stop until he had you.
He watched you back into the tile of your shower. You looked like a caged animal put there for his viewing pleasure. “Why are you here?!” you repeated. It’s too late to be demure. He’s seen everything.
“I came looking for the daggers I lent you. I looked everywhere in your room. I couldn't find them.” Loki’s voice was deep but clear. You could hear the dangerous desire in his tone as he reached for the door to your shower. On instinct, you reached for the handle, stopping him from opening it.
The chase became real. He had to have you. The last hour he spent combing through your suggestive belongings had built a naughty little version of you in his head. Like a puzzle. It was the most erotically charged moment he’d ever spent. And now? Now, you were denying him!
“Last chance, Darling. If you want me to leave now, say so,” he said with a smile. “But I promise you this. I won’t stop till I have you.” His breath steamed the glass doors. Your heart pounded inside your chest as you looked into his dark eyes.
You let go of the handle and stepped back. Loki opened the door slowly, anticipation building up and pooling in between your thighs. “Good girl.”
Loki walked into your shower, still clothed. The scalding water penetrated through his white cotton shirt making it translucent under the spray. You could trace the lines of his muscle underneath.  His hair became slick and affixed itself against his face. He towered over you, as he leaned over with one arm against the shower wall.
Fuck!
He lowered his face. His nose brushed against the tip of yours and you could taste his breath against your lips. “What were you thinking about?” he asked looking deep into your eyes. “And remember, I can tell when you’re lying.”
You quivered at his voice. You looked down embarrassed. “No, no. Look at me.” He said grabbing your chin and forcing you to look back at him. He kept his fingers on your face, gently stroking your jaw.
“I was thinking about you,” you admitted. Your voice was so small. You felt so fragile in his hands.
“Go on, sweet thing. What prayer can your god answer for you tonight?” he encouraged. You were mesmerized by his stare. His voice lulled you to a sense of heat and longing.
“I pictured…touching you,” you started. “I fantasized about your body holding mine.” Loki licked his lips and the tip of his tongue brushed against your mouth. It tingled and the sensation moved throughout your body, awakening every cell within it.
“Like this?” he asked, grabbing your hand gently and placing it underneath his soaked shirt. He guided your hand up his torso and held it there. You could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he guided you over his stiff nipple and then down his lean abs.
Loki didn’t take his eyes off you once. He watched how your eyes widened at his boldness. How your lips parted when you finally touched him. How your whole body moved just a fraction closer to him, capturing him in a lust-filled haze of his own.
He continued steering your hand down his body, past the hem of his pants to his aching bulge. He was big. And hard. You couldn’t imagine what he would look like, what he would feel like, once he took it out. He kept your hand on his cock, driving your hand up and down. “Keep your hand on me,” he instructed. The steam from the shower did little to prevent the shiver that ran down your spine. Nor did it hide the wetness that was now dripping from you.
“Can you feel how hard I am for you?” his arms encircled your body, pulling you closer to him. His mouth incased your lips in an uncontrollable kiss. He weaved his deft fingers into your wet hair, pulling your head back to kiss you at a deeper angle.  He inhaled deeply, smelling the clean scent of your soap and shampoo.
He groaned into your mouth when he felt your hand reach inside his pants and squeeze him tightly. Loki’s eyes rolled back as you expertly palmed his stiff cock. You felt the veins pulsing in your fingertips as you pumped his dick mercilessly. He leaned over you, caging you between the wall and his eager body.
“Don’t stop, Darling,” he whimpered in your ear. “Don’t stop.” Loki bucked his hips into your hands. He captured your lips one last time before he moaned your name, releasing the pent-up arousal he’d been holding in. He fell apart in your hands, and you continued till you milked every last drop from him.
Before the water could wash away your efforts, you licked off two of your fingers, tasting his offerings. “There she is,” he said with a devilish grin. He was waiting for the real you to come forth. You seemed so demure and shy at the beginning. Nothing at all like what he found out you were. The one who reads erotic novels over and over again. The one who hides their toy on the bedside table, ready to go. The one who has a patent leather collar with their pet name etched into it.
Loki growled at the memory. He will see you in that collar. He’ll make sure of it. “But for now, I want a taste,” he said to himself. Loki started with your mouth, sampling himself in your kiss. You winced slightly when he reached for your waist. Reacting from a sensitive bruise that you acquired from your mission.
“Do you think your body can handle a couple more bruises from me, Darling?” he asked earnestly. You swallowed thickly and nodded. Loki proceeded to grab your hips and hold you in place, while his mouth eagerly marked your neck. He continued down to the base of your throat as he knelt in front of you. He captured your breasts with his tongue, paying them each attention. Your hands rested on his shoulders, gathering the white cotton in your hands as you fisted it.
When he reached your stomach, he was gentle and sweet. His hands secured your waist, pushing you slightly higher. “Wrap your leg around me,” he directed. You obeyed and placed your left leg on his shoulder.
Drips of water still fell from the shower. Loki licked and slurped each drop that fell onto your thighs. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide stripe on your warm cunt. “Fuck…Loki,” you screamed when he latched onto your nub, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. He looked up at you and watched you as you threw your head back, your ecstasy showing through.
“Did you like that, Darling?”
“Mmyes,” you whined. “God, yes!”
Loki repeated his actions, holding onto your thigh, as he savored your clit. You couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Your knees were weakening, and you had nothing to hold onto as your hands slipped against the tile of your shower wall. “Loki, please,” you panted.
“I need to be inside you,” he moaned. The sooner he can make you cum in here, the sooner he can properly bed you on top of your sheets. He looked deep into your eyes and you almost didn’t recognize him. Hunger and desperation were hanging on his brows. The sight of him in between your legs, the feel of his lips latching onto your folds, the weight of his fingers thrusting inside you. It was all-encompassing and all too consuming.
“Oh, God! Loki!” you screamed as he inserted another finger. You laced your hand through his drenched hair, pulling every time his tongue flicked your nub. “Please, I need you inside me too. I need…” your breathing came in harsher. The steam almost suffocating you as you come closer and closer to that edge, waiting to fall.
“Don’t fight it, Darling. Let go for me,” Loki quoted your book, making you clench around his fingers. One last thrust into you and you screamed your release. Loki lapped up your swollen pussy with a greedy smile, making you shudder.
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Hours later, you and Loki were lying on the floor of your room. Blankets and pillows surround you while your legs and arms tangle with each other, holding each other tightly. You were running your finger up and down his chest as he read aloud a passage from one of your “smutty romance books,” as he called them.  
His voice was magnetic and hypnotizing. Every word he said came to life inside your head. “Hmm, we might have to re-enact this one,” he teased after he finished a scene.
“Yes, sir,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t hear the last word you said. It just came out. You couldn’t stop yourself from saying it. From bending to his will and wanting to please him.
“I was curious about something,” he grinned, biting his lip. “Which I hope you can enlighten me...”
“Yes?”
“When I was looking for the daggers, I came across this.” He conjured up your patent leather collar and held it up against the dim light. He next conjured up the matching riding crop and showed you the tag that was hanging from the handle. “Who was your master?” Loki asked, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer. “Why do you have this and not them?”
“I never had one,” you admitted sheepishly. “I bought that in hopes of using it one day. But we never worked out.”
“I see,” he said with a devious smirk.
“It was so pretty. I couldn’t just get rid of it.”
“Sit up. Hold your hair, while I put this on you.” You obeyed his instructions. A pool of desire is already forming in between your legs as he tightens the collar around your neck. The heart-shaped tag, ‘Darling’ felt heavy and cold as he placed it neatly on the base of your throat.
Loki wiped his thumb over the tag of the whip. Newly etched, in bold letters, was his name instead. “Well, it’s mine now, darling,” he grinned as he tested the switch on his hand. The sharp thwack stung his palm. Your heart started beating quicker.
“On your knees,” he growled.
“Yes, sir.”
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🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief ++
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writerslittlelibrary · 3 months
Text
So, I'm not a prisoner?
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masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra
summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…
pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader
warnings: fighting, weapons, stabbing, blood, implied sexual abuse
genre: fluff, angst
words: 3073
a/n: I wanted to do a fic like this for so long!!!! anyway, I just kept scouting tumblr trying to find fics like this, so I figured I’d finally write one myself :)
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
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A quick in and out. That was your mission. How on earth did you manage to screw it up so bad. In and out. Assassinate the traitor and come right back. 
Dreykov would’ve been so proud. 
But that didn’t happen. No. Every single aspect about that night failed to go according to plan. You snuck into the event Stark had hosted, was able to blend in with the other party goers, and you were able to hide when most of the people started to leave. 
Once it was just the Avengers left, you stayed in your hiding spot, observing them. You were here to kill Natasha Romanoff, and Natasha Romanoff only. 
You could not afford any casualties, so you had it all planned out. 
You’d wait until the Avengers would leave, and you’d take Natasha out before she could make it to her living quarters. You knew that once she made it to the living space of the Avengers tower, getting to her would be a lot harder. 
However, against all odds, Natasha excused herself from the group quite early, saying she wanted to get a good nights sleep. 
You internally cursed yourself, hating that this wasn’t something that you had planned for. 
Around the couches were still some Avengers sat. You recognised all of them. Clint Barton shouldn’t be too much trouble. He was only a guy who’s good with a bow. For Maria Hill could be said the same thing, except she’s very skilled with a gun.
No, you were worried about the other Avengers still seated. Tony Stark could call upon his armour in mere seconds. Thor had the power of thunder for god’s sake. Wanda Maximoff has exceptional powers, and therefor, if you were to attack with her still in the room, you’d be immobilised in an instant. 
You were fairly certain you didn’t need to worry much about Bruce Banner. Sure, he could turn into the Hulk, but he didn’t turn often, and lately, the Hulk hasn’t been spotted in the battlefield, meaning he probably had many trouble turning into him. 
Pietro Maximoff shouldn’t bring you a lot of trouble either. 
Your main concern were Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. One Super Soldier you could handle, but two? While fighting the rest of the Avengers? That wasn’t going to work. 
Lucky for you, Wanda Maximoff had excused herself from the gathering a while ago. If you didn’t make to much noise, she wouldn’t be much of a problem. You could be outside before she’d even make it to the party deck. 
Your original plan was to just wait. Natasha Romanoff would have usually sat through a party until far into the evening. You’d know, you’ve been watching her for weeks. 
However, now that Romanoff has announced she was returning to her bedroom, a slight panic ran through your body. 
Dreykov gave your 5 weeks to finish this assignment. That’s longer than any assignment you’d ever been on. You could not disappoint him with this. You had to kill the traitor. 
You figured now was your only chance, and so, as Natasha Romanoff made her way towards the elevator, you followed her. 
However, not even to your surprise, she stopped in the middle of the hallway. 
“You know I’m an assassin, too? You’re good, but you’re not un noticeable,” she states, calmly turning around, being met with a gun to your face. The moment she stopped, you were wise enough to draw your gun, holding her at gunpoint for any sudden movements. 
You could see a slight surprise appear on her face, before her face returned to her poker face once again. 
“You’re just a child…” Natasha spoke slowly, seeming almost disappointed. 
“You’re a traitor,” you spoke, loading the gun, taking a step closer. Natasha simply shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she spoke, before leaping towards you. You shot your gun, but Natasha was too fast, avoiding your gunfire as she ran past you, back to the other Avengers. 
How on earth could you have missed that shot? She was right there.
Pathetic. 
You don’t hesitate to run after her, determined to finish this tonight. 
Very much not to your surprise, the moment you run back into the party hall, the Avengers are already standing up and ready. Ready to fight you.
You don’t hesitate to move forwards, and after fighting Clint Barton for mere seconds, you quickly realise they have no intention of hurting you. You could use that to your advantage, and you do.
You kick Barton hard, leaving him on the floor, heaving for air as you move forward, taking on Maria. 
However, the moment you get close to Maria, two strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you back. They’re holding you tightly, and it doesn’t feel like they’re planning to let go. 
You struggle in the hold, fighting against who ever is holding you as you try to break free. A small panic runs through your body. The fear of being captured by the Avengers taking place in your mind. You do not fear the Avengers, but the thought of being seen as a traitor by Dreykov hurts your heart more than words could describe. 
“Stop struggling. We can help you,” you hear a voice behind you speak, and you soon come to realise the person you’re fighting is Captain America himself. 
No wonder you couldn’t get loose. 
Knowing it’s a Super Soldier, you’re quick to outsmart him, making him think you’re getting tired, relaxing your body is his hold. Because of this, the Captain lightens his grip a bit, giving you enough room to wiggle your arm free, moving it backwards to hit him in the face with your elbow. 
Because of the surprise, he lets you go, allowing you to stand again. 
The moment your feet hit the ground, you dash forward, holding up your knife as you use everyone’s shock to your advantage. 
Everyone is surprised by your capability of escaping Steve’s grasp, not realising your already moving towards Natasha again. You reach her quickly, stabbing your knife into her stomach as far as it can go. 
Natasha gasps, and you pull the knife out, watching as all the blood starts to seep from her stomach. 
Slowly, Natasha sinks to the ground, Maria catching her, helping her down. 
You move towards Natasha again, determined to get the job finished, but are quickly stopped by another pair of arms wrapping around your waist. You immediately recognise the metal arm, knowing that the Winter Soldier holds you in his grasp. You can’t escape him. You never have. 
He pulls you backwards, pushing you to the ground as he tries to punch you. However, you regain yourself quickly, rolling away from under him and kicking him in the face. 
Suddenly, you’re moved across the room. You forgot the damn speedster…
You raise your knife quickly, stabbing him before he has a chance to make another move. 
“PIETRO!” you hear a voice yell, and you turn your head to the right. Shit. Wanda Maximoff must have heard the commotion and went down to take a look. You have to get out of there. You will never win a fight with her.
You move quickly, running towards the stairs. However, before you could reach them, you felt a stabbing pain in your left shoulder, the sound of a gun shot following soon after. You had been shot. Bucky Barnes had shot you in an attempt to slow you down. 
But you didn’t let it. 
Instead, you went towards the stairs a little quicker, dashing down the hundreds of flights of stairs to get to the main floor. 
Of course, all SHIELD agents on the main floor were already expecting you, and you were followed by Steve Rogers, but you were quicker than him. You knew that. 
You dashed past all the SHIELD agents, avoiding their gun fire as you made it towards an emergency exit. 
The moment you stepped outside, you started your escape route. You already planned it, knowing exactly which way to go, no matter which way you would exit. 
Steve followed you outside, but the moment he set foot outside the door, you were gone. You had disappeared into the night, leaving no trace. 
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Back in the Avengers tower, the team was recovering from your attack. Natasha was in bad shape. Your strike had been an attempt to murder her, and you didn’t miss any organs as you pierced your blade through her abdomen. 
Pietro was much better. He was back on his feet quickly, seeing as though you stabbing him hadn’t been a murder attempt. You merely wanted to distract him. 
It didn’t take long for Natasha to get back on her feet either, even though she was advised to stay on bed rest after the surgery. 
Natasha was determined to find you, and she quickly got to work. 
Even though you had made it out of the Avengers tower quickly, you were still hurt, and some of you blood had fallen on the floor as you made your escape towards the stairs. Clint and Maria had collected that blood, running multiple tests, only to find out you were not registered anywhere. 
There was no record of your existence. Were you just another ghost story?
What they did find were traces of the Super Soldier serum. However, they were modified, almost as if they were genetically a part of your system. 
Did that mean you were just another Hydra experiment? Natasha did hear you calling her a traitor. That had to mean you knew Dreykov, right? Who else viewed her as a traitor. I would make sense. Sending a modified teenage assassin after her, knowing Natasha was above killing children. 
Even in the Red Room, she always hesitated when sparring against the younger students. 
Dreykov must have had a lot of faith in you to send you after her. Natasha can only hope you’re not a graduate yet…
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After the incident in the Avengers tower, you had fled to Germany. You figured it was best to leave the United States completely. And why would they ever search for you in Germany? 
You had rented an apartment, loving the small town you had chosen. Dreykov had given you 5 weeks to finish the assignment, and now, you had only 1 week left. There is now way that you’re going to succeed in killing Natasha within the week. 
They know you are after her now, and they will be prepared for you to make a return. You screwed it up.
Sloppy. 
Right now, you were just heading back to your apartment. You had taken a walk, deciding to make the most out of the freedom you had in the moment. The week would be over soon, and the moment Dreykov would send for your return you are certain you will not be seeing daylight any time soon. 
After you arrived in the apartment building, you instantly felt watched. 
Had the Avengers found you?
You made your way up to your apartment, pushing the key into the lock and walking through the small hallway. Someone was in here, you could feel it. 
You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, keeping your back towards the living room. 
“There are not a lot of places to hide in this apartment,” you spoke aloud into the emptiness of the apartment. Soon you heard a set of footsteps, and you felt another presence enter the room. 
“You’re very skilled for your age,” you heard a voice behind you say, and you immediately recognised it as Natasha’s. 
“And you are stronger than you look. I mean, even for you, I didn’t expect you to be on your feet so quickly,” you stated, turning around slowly. Natasha wasn’t holding a weapon in your face, something you were definitely expecting. 
You scanned her quickly, seeing the weapons she held on her belt. 
She didn’t come unarmed. Good. She’d be stupid to. 
“I don’t mean you any harm,” Natasha said, taking a small step forward as she held her hands in the air, showing you her every movement. 
You didn’t look impressed, instead just staring at her as she moved. 
“Then you are a fool,” you told her, and you spotted a small smirk flashing over Natasha’s face. “And you are very full of yourself,” she said, moving towards the kitchen island, leaning on it. 
“I can’t say I blame you. You took on a lot of the Avengers on your own. Even two Super Soldiers. That’s impressive,” she stated, giving you a small smile. You didn’t return it. 
“What? Jealous someone better took your place when you betrayed us,” you asked Natasha, determined to get on her nerves.
Natasha’s smile dropped quickly. 
“Quite the opposite, actually. I hoped no one would ever have to go through it again,” she told you, a hint of regret almost identifiable in her expression. Now it was your time to give her a small smile. 
“You think you’re so important that everything should’ve ended with you?” you asked her, moving towards the kitchen island as well, setting your glass down, still holding onto it. 
Natasha shook her head.
“What I am curious about, however, is the genetic Super Soldier serum that runs through your DNA,” Natasha paused, adjusting her stance before speaking again. “Tell me, was your dad a Super Soldier?” 
You let out a huff of amusement, surprising Natasha. 
“You think I believe you’re just here for a conversation? There are SHIELD agents placed on every corner of every street. Don’t think I didn’t notice it. The lovely young couple, drinking coffee at the restaurant downstairs? Amazing disguise, if you were trying to trick nine year olds,” you stated, finishing your glass of water. 
Natasha smiles, clearly impressed with your observations. 
“You’re right. I’m not here for just a conversation, although I do hope we can prevent violence,” Natasha started, but before she could continue you interrupted her. 
“You’re here to bring me in.” 
Natasha nodded, and the look on her face was almost apologetic. 
“No one needs to get hurt. If you just come with me, there’s a big chance you could avoid confinement,” Natasha explained, yet you just scoffed and shook your head. 
“Avoid confinement? Yeah right. There is no way, that after what I have done, your people won’t lock me away.” 
“I can be very persuasive,” Natasha simply replied. 
There was a small silence. Natasha knew you were debating your options. You didn’t seem like a brainwashed sheep. She knew that you knew better than trusting Dreykov’s lies. Sure, you still believed she was a traitor, but there is no way that you didn’t see that what Dreykov is doing is wrong. 
“You know going back after a failed mission will result in punishment,” Natasha started, trying to get through to you. Trying to give you that little push you needed to go with her. “If you go with me, you’ll never be punished like that ever again,” she finished. 
You looked up, deep in thought.
“How could you be so sure?” you asked her, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to respond. 
“We can keep you safe-”
“I found you. I nearly killed you. Who’s to say some other Widow won’t come after me as well?” you replied, and Natasha gave you another small smile. 
“I escaped the Red Room when I was 20,” Natasha started. “It took him 12 years to send someone after me. We will make sure we’ll take him down before he even has the chance to come after you.” 
“How many times, did you try to kill him, exactly? Because I believe you attempted his murder twice already, both of which you failed. You blew him up in Budapest, and then another time when you took the air facility down. Do you honestly think you’ll succeed now?”
Natasha shook her head, seemingly recollecting her thoughts. 
“I failed twice, and that was sloppy, but both times I didn’t have the Avengers on my side. You ran the moment you saw Wanda. You know what she is capable of. Taking down the Red Room for good shouldn’t be too difficult with the Avengers on our side,” Natasha explained, yet you just shook your head. 
“I’m not like you,” you told her, yet Natasha just looked at you in confusion. 
“I’m not some disposable widow like you were. I’m more important,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a sad smile.
“Everyone is just a disposable widow to him,” she started, but you interrupted her. 
“I’m not. You tested my blood. You know I carry the Super Soldier serum. I’m not just some girl he picked up from the streets,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a small nod, encouraging to keep going. 
“I can’t explain it, but he won’t just let me walk. He put too much time in my creation. He would never just let it go to waste,” you finished, looking down, avoiding Natasha’s gaze as you turned around, putting your glass by the sink. 
“We’ll help you. I know that we can,” Natasha tried. 
“Is it worth the risk? My life is not great, but it’s not terrible either. Dreykov values me, and I am not treated like a piece of meat, unlike you might suspect.” 
“So the punishment is worth it, then? Knowing that in three days time, Dreykov will have you be recollected, and once you return to the Red Room, you’ll be punished severely for a failed mission,” Natasha paused, allowing you to let her words sink in. 
“Or, in three days time, you could know you can go to bed without worrying about someone joining. You could know you can be safe, and sleep through the night without anyone disrupting you. Knowing that, is the choice really that hard?” Natasha finished, and you were almost at your breaking point. 
Was it worth it? Was going back the best decision? Dreykov would hurt you, you knew that, but you deserved it. Didn’t you? 
“Please, just come with me. We can help,” Natasha spoke, nearly begged. 
You sighed deeply. 
“Fine, but if you put me in a cell, I will go on a murder streak,” you told her, and Natasha let out a chuckle, before seeing your facial expression, and realising you were dead serious. 
“Duly noted,” Natasha said, before motioning you towards the door. 
What had you done…
Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey
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kurogxrix · 10 months
Note
omg stark!reader n Peter in stark tower flirting and tony teases them (hopefully mutual pining and like they haven’t confessed to each other yet)
Dedicate Your Heart
Peter Parker x Stark!reader
A/N: reader can be seen as Tony’s biological or adopted daughter :)
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“To your left Spider-Man!” had been the last thing that Peter had heard before getting shoved to the side, quite painfully so be the stack of boxes that you had been carrying. The tower of cardboard threatened you with a stagger as you bumped into Peter, before peacefully settling back in place. 
Despite it being a mid saturday morning, you found yourself in your father’s lab instead of in the comfort of your dear room. Though you’d already agreed to help him, so there was no way you could turn back on him now. Admitively you weren’t here totally by your own will, you’d solely done it because Tony had teased you about being some edgy teenager that sticks in her room all day. And while you were, admitting with no shame that staying slumped on your bed while blasting some old school rock through your headphones was definitely a vibe, you decided to prove to your dad that there were many other things that you could do to render that brain of yours utile.
It wasn’t like your father was a stranger to your accomplishments, far from that. 
Setting the boxes down on the countertop, you couldn’t help the heavy groan that escaped your mouth. You didn’t have super strength like most of the other people living in the tower, and damn could a few boxes make your backache go crazy. Nevertheless, throughout your struggle, you failed to notice the way that a certain curly haired brunette had his eyes stuck on you for the duration of your time here. 
Peter had not even said anything after you had brutally (in his dictionary. You’d argue and say that it was playfully) shoved him away with your boxes. Instead, his eyes lingered on your form. He nearly had to slap himself after his iris laid on your torso for a little too long, but could you blame him? 
The skin-tight black tank top that you often wore while working in the lab was just so attractive to Peter. 
He watched as the shirt slid up a couple of inches as you stretched, exposing a sliver of your stomach and rippling the muscles in your arms. Sure you weren’t as bulky as Thor yet alone Hulk, but fighting crime alongside the avengers and training with them did flatter your physique. God, Peter was sure that he must’ve been drooling by now. What a fool. 
“You want a picture too or are you too busy engraving the sight in your mind?” your voice shook Peter out of his stance, a bright red colour raising upon the back of his neck as you caught him checking you out red handed. The sole sound of your assertive tone had him doubling over, at least in his head, because he could avoid being humiliated furthermore. 
“Hey, wasn’t it you that chose my outfit for our last gala? Heard from a little birdie that it was because you thought i’d look handsome in it?” Peter retaliated, though his voice held more diffidence than yours did. You froze upon his admission, the metallic parts of the gadget that you were working on released a loud ‘thud’ as it came down to hit against the countertop. You winced at the sound, internally cursing your mother figure, Pepper, for exposing your secret. 
It was true though, and there was no point in denying it now that it was out in the open. You could still remember the exact moment that Tony had informed you all about some gala that you had to attend alongside him, some rich guy thing. Although you protested, he insisted. So that’s how you’d ended up in this position, having to choose a partner that was actually your age to accompany you there. It wasn’t that you necessarily needed one so badly, but every other avenger already had someone to accompany them, but the age gap between yourself and the rest of your team already made you feel sort of excluded in most things, so bringing a date it was. 
Beyond everyone else, your first thought was to ring Peter up and ask him about it. After all, he was perfect for the job. He already knew your father and he was always so enthusiastic for whatever journey you’d reserve for him. Only problem was, well…Peter was broke. So given that you were the daughter of a billionaire, you might’ve as well dressed him up. Though as soon as you thought about Peter in a specific suit, you felt your brain short circuiting in awe. 
It took you a moment to recover from your lone embarrassment. How could the mere thought of a man get you so riled up? It was those kinds of questions that you’d always bring up to yourself when it came to Peter, and on that night, you came to the fact that you might’ve had feelings for the boy. Naturally, as a teenage girl, you would’ve firstly ran to your phone to text your friends about it. Though you ran short on these, being a Stark, you knew how people could get once they indulged in another’s’ money and clout. The ideas of having friends apart from the avengers had completely been wiped clean out of your mind after a few failed attempts.  
You thought about telling Natasha, and as much as you loved the older woman, you dreaded the way  she’d tease you if you ever opened up about your feelings for a certain Spider-man. So, telling your mother it was. 
“My mom is such a snitch.” you mumbled under your breath, supposedly to yourself but the chuckle that escaped Peter told you that it came out a little  
louder than expected. The lab was relatively quiet after that, other than the sounds of you piecing things together and Peter’s loud thinking as he made a virtual maquette of what he was planning. To the both of you, the secret glances that you were exchanging might’ve gone over your heads, but not to a certain billionaire playboy that stood by the elevator door. Well scratch that, ex-playboy. 
Once again, the lab was quiet. Almost too quiet for it to be containing the both of you teens in there, Tony thought to himself. He was no stranger to Peter’s feelings towards you, neither were the other avengers, nor yourselves at that. The flirting was nothing new to the obscene things that the poor heros were bound to see, and it was almost too much for them to handle. It was like a constant war between teammates that was happening in the tower. One side would agree with the fact that you were both oblivious to each other’s feelings, while the other half believed that you were both very aware, but undeniable cowards when it came to outwardly confessing. 
Your dad fell in the team of people who believed that you both knew you liked each other. How could he not? He had to suffer through your endless flirting and playful banners everyday. Plus, he knew admiration when he saw it. He is Tony Stark after all, he’d received many lovestruck looks in his youth, and they’d only multiplied as he aged.
Amidst his work, Peter couldn’t concentrate for any longer with the amount of noise that you were causing. Your patience ran short as you tried to forcefully shove a metal piece against another, not understanding why it wasn’t fitting together. One look at you and he could tell that you were frustrated. Your creased eyebrows, that slightly disgusted look that you wore on your face, it all told the same exact story. Narrated through your eyes that were piercing daggers at the poor gadget before you, Peter knew better than to just leave you alone. Mainly because he feared for the poor object, a woman’s wrath is not to be played with. 
“I mean, kiss me if i’m right but, this piece most definitely goes here.” Peter took the piece from your hand, startling you slightly as he appeared out of thin air. His words rang inside your head for a second, the thoughts of kissing Peter making you feel dizzy after so long of chasing one another. The endless nights spent awake just to text Peter and the amount of time that you’d sneak out just to meet up with the curly haired boy. It all meant more than it would let off, and that was much considering nearly everyone thought you two were already dating. 
You allowed Peter to take the segment of your father’s work from your hands, placing it in a slot that was laid idiotically close to the one that you were trying to force it in. Without hesitation, you hurriedly plugged in the machine, and with enthusiasm, you watched as your father’s project lit up successfully. 
In the midst of everything, Peter could barely makeout that time that it had taken you to turn around and engulf him in your embrace. Warm and familiar arms welcoming him as they latched behind his neck, he nearly doubled back at your force. 
“I’d kiss you but that’d just destroy everything that we’ve built throughout these years now, wouldn’t it?” you bat your eyelashes up at him, the side of your face flushed against his chest as Peter looked down at you with those doe eyes of his. You could’ve sworn that it wasn’t you that was trying to soften him with that sweet look, but quite the inverse. 
You both indulged in the moment, guilty of relishing the other with nothing else but your eyes. Though what lied in your iris told another story than one that’s platonic, your mouths just couldn’t allow yourselves to confess. It wasn’t that you both were oblivious to the other’s feelings, you both just feared the change of dynamic that’d come with altering this relationship into a romantic one. 
You feared that your teasing texts would turn into unceasingly mushy ones. And Peter feared that if anything bad was to happen between you two, he’d lose you forever, even as a friend. Though you both were young and understanding, you set asid the thought of making anything official for now. 
As you continued to stare into Peter’s eyes, you couldn’t help but lean further into him, closer up. He reciprocated your motion, pupils never straying away from your own as his breath hitched under the circumstances. Sure you weren’t ready for a relationship with Peter now, but what harm was there with a little kiss? You could always be all up in eachothers faces one day and fist-bump like highschool best-friends on the other. 
“Oh and cut it to the wedding scene already, we’ve been through too much foreplay!” there came the clap of his hands before his words, and soon was your father’s cover blown. You both froze at the teasing tone of his voice, familiar so, it was impossible to escape the Stark banter. You almost scoffed audibly before remembering the position that you were currently in. Peter felt his heartstrings being tugged at once he felt you parting away from him, but yet again, you guys were nothing more than just friends. 
The rise of crimson colour upon Peter’s cheeks was a cute sight to see, and admitively you’d spend more time admiring him in his flustered state, but for now, you had an irritated attitude to put on for your father. 
“For how long have you been stalking us, old man?” you rolled your eyes at your father, crossing your arms above your torso as you stared him down. The smirk that played on Tony’s face irked you, and you wanted nothing more than Pepper walking in and telling him off. God only knows how much a husband fears his wife, and Tony more than feared his own. He laughed shortly, throwing his head back as though you had said the funniest thing ever heard by men. Peter just stood there in all of his awkwardness, moving his head to gaze at your father and you relentlessly like some cartoon character. 
“Long enough to know that your little flirting in my  lab is disgusting, get your own to do that crap over there.” he responded sarcastically, a Tony Stark trait. 
“I was not flirting with your daughter, Mr Stark!” Peter retaliated nervously, his words coming out faster than his mind could comprehend. He felt even more stressed as he watched his superior stare him down with an amused expression on, feigning comprehension before opening that mouth of his once more. 
“Right and that explains why you were just about to kiss her? Cmon kids, I was anything but born yesterday.” Tony laughed at you both once more, and clearly, he was enjoying this way more than the two of you. 
Before any of you have the time to respond, your father was already on his way out. With his back facing towards you, he plucked his iconic sunglasses from the pocket of pants, the arc reactor peeking through the fabric of his thin summer shirt. 
“Be sure to be safe, your kids could end up just like my lovely daughter, and I'm sure none of you guys are ready for this!” your father turned around swiftly  to wink playfully at you, sending the pair of you finger guns as he walked backwards towards the elevator. Lord, how much did you wish for him to slip and break his saunter, but a man such as Tony was too smooth in his ways. With the humiliation of his words running thick through your veins, and your head in your hands in shame, you’d promised yourself that you’d get your revenge on your dear father. Somewhat, someday.
The sound of the elevator’s ‘ting’ sent relief coursing throughout Peter and you, now that your father is gone, you’d have to deal with the other situation at hand. 
“We weren’t flirting right? Just talking as friends?” Peter nervously rambled as soon as you turned back around to face him. His words were the opposite of what he wanted, of course he wanted you both to flirt as more than friends, but he didn’t want to scare you if anything. His hand was itching a spot behind his neck, where nothing irritated him, it was just an anxious habit that he had. Trying to surpass a chuckle, you sauntered your way towards the brunette. 
Peter’s eyes widened comically as you raised a hand towards him, and his thoughts ran wild with anticipation. Was this it? Were you finally going to surpass this fear of commitment and just kiss him? His shoulders dropped visibly when your hand came to remove his own from his neck, saving him from the rash that he was bound to develop after itching the same spot repetitively like he always did. 
Peter’s heart did an nearly audible ‘oh’ in disappointment. Though on the outside, he was all shiny smiles and full set of teeth on display. He was ready to move past what you had, but if you couldn’t meet him halfway, how could he act on it? 
Peter observed with keen eyes as you walked back to your spot, sending a curt notice to F.R.I.D.A.Y, asking to press play on your playlist. 
Suddenly, Peter’s disappointment was replaced with something else. With dedication, perhaps. He vowed to make a change in what you had by the end of this year, promising himself to prove to you that maybe a relationship with him wasn’t so bad. That you could work things out like two responsible people if anything were to happen. He just urged to get a taste of you, of what it was like to wake up and be more than just your best bud. 
-
i wrote this with a swollen thumb and i half-asleep mind so please don’t judge😭
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randomshyperson · 1 year
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Morning Grumpy Witch - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: The one where moody Emo!Wanda has a bad morning, but luckily, she also has a soft spot saved for her girlfriend. [Requested]
Warnings: None really, all fluff with Avengers being a family and Wanda being a simp. | Words: 1.197k
A/N-> I deviated a little from the original request and ended up writing a shared POV with Reader and Bucky Barnes my precious baby. This is pretty small and sweet as requested.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
It was common knowledge in Avengers Tower that Wanda could be a temperamental person. And so it was best to keep a distance until she regained her temper, especially after things went wrong, like failing Natasha Romanoff's same combat challenge four times in a row. Not that anyone was keeping score.
But Bucky was a recent member of the team, and well, he's trying to be a more considerate person and had no idea that while he was preparing breakfast, Wanda was falling down her ass, again and again, and having to deal with the provocative giggles of two veteran captains and a spy who seemed to take some kind of personal pride in managing to defeat a witch.
And just for this, when the team left the gymnasiums for the kitchen, he greeted them amiably and joined in the loose talk and jokes even if he didn't know exactly what the others were laughing at.
Clint - who had spent the morning reinforcing and repairing his bows - appeared in the kitchen and like the father he was, his first instinct was to ruffle the hair of an already irritated Maximoff, grinning at her grumbling protest as he leaned over to get a cup of coffee.
Bucky didn't do anything wrong. He just wanted to make conversation. The problem was the subject.
"So, Maximoff, everything went well in training? Someone needs to kick Natasha's ass one of these days. I imagine it's easier with your magical advantage." He commented, but Wanda remained silent to the countless giggles that arose from the Avengers present in the gym at the time of the training.
Natasha made an expression of false interest, which hid the teasing. "Yeah, Wanda, tell him how your magic tricks helped you fall flat on your face on the tatami four times?"
The table exploded into giggles, Wanda grunted in irritation and embarrassment, before standing at once with a small breakfast plate in hand. Bucky swallowed dryly when she offered him only an angry glance of red irises before turning away to the kitchen counter.
He leaned a little in Nat's direction. "Was it that bad?" He whispered, and the widow laughed before clarifying:
"She has potential, but she relies too much on magic tricks. She can't get past the first wave of challenges, because she can't charm a training hologram." Nat explains.
The table falls into a brief conversation, and Bucky steals a glance at where Wanda is sitting - and shattering a loaf of bread with more force than necessary.
From the small living room, two figures then emerge to join the meal: the Starks of the Tower. Unlike Tony and his fancy robe, you are dressed casually, and he vaguely remembers you mentioning that you had a meeting at SWORD later.
It is Tony who greets the team first- You follow him, smiling briefly before your gaze circles the room. 
"Where's my little witch...?" You ask distractedly, almost sighing when you see the crestfallen figure in the kitchen. 
"Careful." He warns naturally. "She's kind of moody today."
You chuckle through your nose, turning away without missing an opportunity to steal a sweet bagel from Tony's hand, and ignoring his protest to catch up with your girlfriend at the counter.
Well, Bucky assumes you are a couple at least. He has never asked about it, but it is in the way you look and behave around each other. 
And it's definitely in how you come up behind Wanda, hugging her and completely breaking her pouting expression with kisses all over her neck and face.
The team only pays attention to the display of affection when Wanda breaks into a giggle a minute later, the sound muffled between kisses that you steal from her.
Clint has a fond smile as he comments to the rest of the staff:
"It's nice that they get along so well." 
The Avengers hum in agreement. Natasha is swiping cream cheese on a cracker when she comments to Steve:
"Let's invite Y/N to watch the afternoon practice." She says turning her face to the two figures on the counter. Wanda's stool has been spun by your hands, and despite being all over her, you both have your attention on the table at the mention of your name. Natasha gives a little smile. "It's just that Wanda fights better when she wants to impress her girlfriend. Isn't that right, Maximoff?"
All Nat gets is a raised middle finger that makes the team laugh. You chuckle at the interaction too but lean your face to hide against Wanda's neck, your arms closing around her body and hugging her properly. Wanda ignores the team to hold you back.
"I like this." She whispers, arms tightening and making you hum in agreement against her skin. Still, the position is not ideal because of the height difference between your standing figure and her sitting. Wanda sighs in your ear. "Can we go back to our room? Take a shower together..."
You groan at the amazing idea, kissing her neck before pulling away to look her in the eyes. "I can't, babe. Business meeting" You remind her, mimicking the pout she displays with your response. "Sorry. How about later?"
"Natasha didn't lie, I really do have practice. I like the idea of you watching, though." She replies, and you flash a small lopsided grin.
"Hmm, I also like the idea of watching you sweat..." You tease, managing to make her cheeks acquire a pink color. You kiss her softly before commenting, "It's a date then."
You are kissing her again when Clint hisses in warning, his gaze on the clock on the wall.
"You'll be late if you don't leave now, Stark." He tells you, and begrudgingly, you pull away from Wanda, stealing a few kisses before doing so completely.
"I'm going to borrow your car, Tony. The Silver Bugatti." You declare as you walk past the keychain. Your brother grimaces.
"No way! You have your own cars!" He protests but only receives vague excuses before you rush out of the kitchen - Throwing a kiss in the air to your girlfriend before leaving completely.
Tony spends the rest of the coffee complaining that no one respects their older brothers anymore. Bucky is impressed that five minutes ago, Wanda nearly bewitched him over a question, and now she was having trouble hiding the silly grin on her face.
He got up to drop some dirty mugs in the sink, and ventured, "You two are sweet together. And you seem to really like her, with your puppy dog eyes."
Wanda's expression changed on the spot, the red returning to her irises but also to her cheeks.
"Are you mocking me?" She retorted but looked so adorable at having been caught that he just chuckled, his attention on his mugs.
"I wouldn't dream of it." He merely replied, chuckling to himself as Wanda stormed out of the kitchen the next moment. Stealing a quick glance at Steve across the table, he wonders if it would be a good idea to set up a double date, maybe even invite Maria and Natasha if the widow promises not to torment the witch.
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shintin · 6 months
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Forbidden Flames
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↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader
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One-shot
Summary: Satoru Gojo receives a letter, inviting him to a secluded cottage in the forest. Is it a trap by curse users or a haunting memory trying to scratch his wounds?
Or a story about how You and Satoru Gojo fucked after years.
Word count: +11 k.
Genre: explicit smut, romance, angst (Jujutsu Kaisen au).
Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, reader-insert, no Y/N, post-breakup, soft Satoru Gojo, curse user reader, no death, too much fluff and kissing, cunnilingus, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex (c’mon! we all want this), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, tear licking, emotional trauma, emotional sex, no manga spoilers.
Notes: Hey there! I wrote this because Gege Akutami left an emotional mark on me. So, you know...
You can read the "Disclaimers" at the end.
Song Recommendation: Forbidden Flames Playlist
You can read my fics on AO3. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK.
Back to masterlist
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As the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the dense foliage, a mysterious man with stark white hair and a black blindfold stepped into the heart of the desolate wilderness. Satoru Gojo. The air hung heavy with the earthy scent of wet soil mingling with the musty aroma of decaying leaves, a reminder of the rainstorm that had visited the night before.
Every step he took got lost between the giggles and hisses of harmless curses hiding behind the trees with fear. The ground beneath his feet was carpeted with a mosaic of fallen leaves, their vibrant red, orange, and gold colors now muted and lifeless, as if drained of all vitality. Some of them, with still a breath to take, crunched beneath his weight, the sound of a heartrending dirge that reverberated through the desolation.
Tall, gnarled trees stood sentinel on either side, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers as if yearning to trap the unwary. Their towering forms were shrouded in darkness, their essence reduced to withered remnants. They whispered mournful laments in the wind, their voices carrying tales of forgotten sorrows.
The forest, once flourishing and thriving, now seemed like a tragic tableau frozen in time. The canopy above formed a suffocating barrier that only got disturbed by the man's ethereal presence. Wild ferns brushed against his legs, leaving behind a trace of dew upon his black trousers. The moist ground yielded beneath his every step as if reluctant to release its grip from his boots' footprints.
As he pressed further into the jungle, the darkness deepened, the path twisting and turning like a labyrinth of despair. The shadows grew longer, stretching out like grasping tendrils as if eager to ensnare his soul. The silence became oppressive, broken only by the occasional painful cry of a distant creature.
The cottage he had received its address stood as a solitary figure amidst the gloomy jungle, a crumbling monument to forgotten dreams. Its dilapidated walls whispered of lost hopes and shattered promises, its windows veiled with white curtains.
With his hands casually tucked into his pockets, he watched the scene before him, a twisted smile playing upon his lips. He thought it was a perfect place, a trap waiting to spring him. But who would be foolhardy enough to challenge the strongest of all times?
But wait!
He couldn't feel any cursed energy! His six eyes were dumb. There was only one who could blind their watchful gaze.
So, when Satoru Gojo approached the house, his heart quickened after a long time, anticipation and anxiety coursing through his veins. The stage was set, the elements conspiring to test his resolve. Would he emerge from this shadowed encounter unscathed, or would the jungle claim yet another victim, lost to the depths of its sorrow-laden clutches?
Satoru's focus fixated on the doorknob, a slight gulp revealing his hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he turned and pushed open the door. The scent of something sweet enveloped his nostrils, a reminiscent embrace that momentarily distracted his senses. However, as his eyes met the sight that awaited him, an unexpected revelation struck him with a force that resurfaced long-forgotten memories.
The inside resembled an aged hideout, with wooden walls and colorful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting warm, dappled patterns on the worn tatami floor. In the center of the room, a round table took its place, adorned with a vase of delicate forget-me-not flowers. Flanking the table were two chairs. And then, in the small kitchen stood the person who had left a void in his heart.
"You're late," your voice rang out in a cheerful tone, beckoning him forward. "Come inside. It's chilly out." With your back facing the door, you stood at the counter, appearing preoccupied with unwrapping something.
Caught in a maelstrom of emotions, Satoru's thoughts fragmented like scattered puzzle pieces, their intended purpose obscured by the inner turmoil. His hand held the doorknob tightly, trapped in a state of ambiguity, unable to release its grip.
Was this a mirage? How could it be that when you seemed precisely the way he had traced the outline of your body in the air while lying in bed, unable to sleep?
Yes, of course, there were nights when the desire to run his fingers through your hair filled his dreams. It was inevitable; your scent permeated everything, even riding on the breeze. There were days fatigue misled him, mistaking weariness for the embrace, he craved, only to discover the hollowness within his very bones. Your body was no longer curled around him, no comfort, and in your absence, each day left him icy, with lips turning blue and hands yearning for the warmth of your touch. He felt adrift in a blizzard, seeking the faint flicker of a fire you had extinguished.
What the fuck is wrong with you, Satoru? Think! Is this a manipulation technique?
And then, as if compelled by an unseen power, you turned your head, causing his heart to skip a beat—countless beats. You were undeniably real.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
Seeing you was akin to being hit in the knee with a bullet. Satoru's legs nearly gave way, his heart raced, and his hands turned clammy, almost causing him to collapse. He had never felt this urge to tear off his blindfold before, as your departure had happened so abruptly that he didn't have a chance to see you. Although he had committed every detail of you to memory, but this…this… witnessing it in person was an entirely different experience.
He stepped back, feeling the heaviness of the past, necessitating some distance. The harsh truths loomed, threatening to engulf him as he wrestled with the profound effect of your presence. Yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you, his mind struggling to comprehend the unfolding situation. The reality was so surreal, making it difficult for him to grasp that it was really occurring.
"Why are you just standing there?" you asked, holding a pack of his beloved Kikufuku mochis in your hands. A radiant smile graced your face, illuminating the damp room with its brightness.
He couldn't give two fucks about mochis when your face had that effect on him, always causing him to lose track of where he was, who he was, and what he might say or do. And that familiar smile, it killed him a little. His gaze remained there, lingering for too long, his concealed eyes giving away his thoughts. "Why do you have that look on your face?" you asked, tilting your head with curiosity and stepping closer to him.
As you stood before him, the closeness amplified the wave of emotions within him. Joy and disbelief raced through his veins. The fragrance that surrounded you, so hauntingly acquainted, sparked a rush of nostalgia.
Satoru Gojo was born with a specific purpose, a set of perfect eyes, and the weight of his lineage on his shoulders. He was reserved and calculated. When he mastered the Limitless technique, he concluded that infinite solitude was the only way to survive. Because how he could describe the experience of seeing everything, for when you see everything, you see nothing. An excess of color turns into pure black, an infinite void.
Yes, he was born with those six eyes. People never let him forget. But to you, his eyes were simply eyes. He recalled the first time you teased him about them and how his heart caught in his chest because he had never seen someone as vibrant and colorful as you.
It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but it was something like that. The first time he saw you, he felt it. An ache. Like a little electric burn. He felt his life changed.
Gradually, his loneliness began to dissipate. He found a place for himself in this chaotic world. With you, he could laugh, cry, joke around, and even be a brat. It was something no one could genuinely grasp—the feeling of finally being alive as a person. Before you, he felt he hadn't truly existed, merely scattered atoms in an indifferent universe following a predetermined path. But you changed everything. You dismantled and rebuilt him anew. You molded him, nurtured him, and despite him being the strongest, you kept him safe.
Without a noble title or material wealth, you were everything that went against the expectations of the Clan Elders. Yet, you stood faithfully by his side, precisely where he believed you belonged. Or at least, that's what he presumed.
Then, on that fateful day, the day he desperately wished was nothing more than a dreadful nightmare, reality unfolded before him. How could it be real? He stood there, confronted by the lifeless bodies of two Higher Ups and their protectors, with you covered in their blood. It was inconceivable. He couldn't accept that you were responsible for such a gruesome scene. Yet, you showed no remorse. You firmly believed it was the only solution, fed up with their destructive actions that brought ruin upon sorcerers deemed insignificant. You had accepted the notion that a problem without a remedy should be eradicated like an unwelcome weed.
On that day, he considered shaking your shoulders and demanding that you deny it all. He even contemplated going against everyone because what was the fucking point of wielding such power if he couldn't safeguard the woman he loved? The thought of quitting and escaping with you crossed his mind, too. He was willing to sacrifice everything: power, wealth, status, even his own life. However, you didn't desire any of those things.
His friend, Suguru Geto, once posed a question: Was he Satoru Gojo because he was the strongest, or was he the strongest because he was Satoru Gojo? At that time, he had no answer. A 17-year-old couldn't possibly find a response to such a profound question. However, when you entered his life, everything changed. Being the strongest lost its significance. He was just Satoru Gojo, and he was who he was because you loved him. His existence held meaning because you touched his life. He saw because he needed to gaze upon you. He spoke because he longed to hear your voice.
And then, similar to his best friend, after causing a bloodbath, you also walked out of his life. Yet, this time, it wasn't solely loneliness that engulfed him. It felt like one of his lungs had been taken away, and he heavied without you by his side through each passing moment. He became nothing once more. There was a hole in his life where you used to fit perfectly, and no matter what he did to try and fill it, nothing worked.
It was a strange anguish, a pain he never anticipated or conceived of. It consumed him from within, setting him ablaze with a profound emptiness. Then, defying the assumption that someone as formidable as him could experience sorrow, he was burdened with the task of erasing you. It was as if you were deemed nothing more than a blemish, a dishonor.
"What... what look?" he struggled to say, his voice tinged with a desperate yearning. Regret lingered in his tone as his words fell short. With a touch of vulnerability, he shut his eyes beneath the comforting confines of his blindfold, seeking refuge in the veil of darkness. Taking a deep breath, he consciously filled his lungs, using them as an anchor amidst the swirling storm of sensations enveloping him.
"That look," you remarked, your voice carrying a mischievous tone that floated in the atmosphere. "It's as if you don't trust me," you added teasingly. A few playful strands of hair escaped their intended position and delicately framed your face, casting a bewitching allure. An irresistible urge welled within him, compelling him to extend his hand and tuck those strands behind your ear—stupid muscle memory. However, he restrained himself, his hand suspended mid-air, resolute in resisting the magnetic pull of his desires.
"Why did you invite me here?" Satoru voiced, his grip on the doorknob loosening as the impact of reality settled upon him. The initial shock transformed into a lucid understanding. He wasn't oblivious. He knew that you were aware of his assignment to eliminate you. So, why? Was it because you recognized your unstoppable nature? Was it because you had realized that the blackhole existed within you, devouring everything you once held dear unless someone intervened?
"You could have refused to come, yet here you are," you whimsically remarked, a devilish glint in your eyes as you punctuated your words with a wink. You strolled over to the weathered table and set the pocket upon its aged surface.
"Cut it out!" Satoru snapped, his frustration mounting. "You know, I had no idea it was you!" His heart thumped in his chest, urging his feet to move forward, even as his mind screamed at him to flee. A sense of unease gripped him, acknowledging the futility of engaging in a battle he felt ill-prepared to win.
You turned towards him, a hint of a smile gracing your lips as your hands stayed concealed behind your back. Leaning against the chair, you arched an eyebrow, your eyes locked on him. "I have a feeling you knew it was me as soon as you arrived at the house," you declared, a jovial tone lacing your words. "After all, I'm the only one capable of concealing my cursed energy from you."
"We both know that I shouldn't be here. I—" Satoru's sentence dissolved, left unfinished, as your hand reached out, bridging the gap between you with a gentle touch. Infinity never worked with you. Even the very essence of the cursed energy recognized that you posed no threat to him. Furthermore, he would gladly provide you with any justification to touch him.
Lost in his reverie, Satoru suddenly became acutely aware of your presence. The magnitude of his longing and the depth of his yearning surged within him. In that instant, he recognized the immense emptiness you had left and how much he had missed you. Emotions swirled together, blending past and present, uncertainty and desire, in a delicate dance that would shape your fates.
"Why are you here, then?" you inquired, and his eyes met yours, reflecting the same yearning that dwelled in his heart. "Tell me, did you come in to kill me?" With a deliberate movement, you folded his fingers, molding them into the shape he would use to unleash his hollow purple. Bringing his hand close to your heart, you held it there. Despite the gravity of the situation, a soft smile adorned your lips.
He couldn't do this.
Taken aback by your unexpected gesture, Satoru swiftly withdrew his hand from your grasp. Anger and heartbreak swirled within him, entwining in a tumultuous storm. The realization hit him like a relentless wave, crashing against the shores of his consciousness. How had you drifted so far apart? When had the divergence between your paths become so profound that he failed to notice? The weight of your choice, to embrace the life of a curse user, to tread a road stained with blood, bore down upon him with a heavy burden. The pain on his face mirrored the fracture within his heart, a sense of loss mingling with a flicker of betrayal.
He wished he could say something. He wished he could start yelling, expressing all the thoughts and desires he had harbored since then—whether shouting, pouring out his heart, or expressing frustration. However, he adhered to the predetermined script you anticipated because he loved you unconditionally, unable to deny you anything.
"I didn't think so," you murmured, closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his in a way that effortlessly eroded his resistance.
You tilted his face down, your hand caught somewhere behind his neck and the base of his jaw, and you kissed him softly and slowly, heat filling his blood with dangerous speed.
One of his hands naturally found its way to the back of your waist, holding you with a gentle yet possessive grasp, while the other securely clasped your arm, pulling you closer.
He felt incredible against you, your bodies fitting perfectly. Nothing ever came easier than kissing you. Every thought and worry wicked away, replaced by the feel of his mouth against your skin, his hand claiming your body.
In that moment, his eyes, his legacy, his clan's name, and the orders given about you faded away. This was his true purpose.
As your tongues entwined, a surge of electricity coursed through his veins, his body responding to the intoxicating enchantment of your touch. Your fingers traced the outline of his blindfold while others clung to his uniform as if he were your sole fulcrum in a world spinning out of control. Your back arched, and he embraced you tighter, his grip firm yet tender, his long fingers leaving an indelible mark upon your skin.
Breathless, as if you had just completed a marathon, you reluctantly pulled back from the heated exchange. Drawing him nearer, he yielded willingly, allowing you to guide him wherever you desired because wherever you led was where he believed to be his destination.
"Take this off," you beseeched, desperation and sorrow permeating your words as your forefinger lifted his blindfold and let it fall to the floor. His tousled hair cascaded softly over his forehead, unable to hide the azure eyes that had once captivated your heart.
In his eyes, tragedy and beauty could be seen, a stoicism that wouldn't be shaken, and childlike joy that couldn't help but flow.
He swallowed, and you shifted your hand to his ear, lightly grazing his earlobe with your pinkie before tracing down his jawline. There was no rejection, yet no clear confirmation either. Your hand brushed against his undercut as you continued.
"There you are," you whispered, your voice laden with kindness. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, a solitary droplet making its way down your cheek as you gently cradled his face in your hands. He looked down at you, counting each tear on your lovely cheeks.
He clasped your hand, kissing your palm before guiding it to rest upon his heart. It was the same foolish heart, steadfastly beating for you, never having faltered. Through teary eyes, you looked at him, and he remained struck by the sheer beauty that not even your tears could diminish.
As your bottom lip quivered beneath his touch, quickly, with a light sweep of his hand, he wiped away the tears that stained your stunning eyes. You missed him too, didn't you? Was it painful for you, too? Silly girl! You couldn't maintain your carefully constructed facades for more than ten minutes when it came to him.
The realization washed over him, dispelling any remaining doubts.
Without a second thought, he effortlessly lifted you, your legs encircling his waist while your hands secured around his neck. Engrossed in a fervent kiss, both of you surrendered to the moment as he clasped your back firmly, pulling you closer to himself, relishing the flavor of your lips.
Letting go wasn't an option when every fiber of his being had missed you.
Determined and resolute, he carried you out to a room he presumed to be the bedroom, even though it didn't matter whether there was a bed or a simple mattress; what mattered was the way your touch kindled a blazing fire within him, and he had no intention of bearing that flame alone.
Keeping you securely nestled in his arms, he forcefully kicked open the door and lowered you onto the welcoming comfort of the bed. The urgency to discard his black jacket left no room for delay. At the same time, your nimble hands deftly undid the buckle of your pants, but before you could remove them entirely, his hands moved with an instinctual hunger, swiftly stripping you of the garment and casting it aside as if propelled by an untamed fervor. The passion between you burned fiercely, filling the room with an all-encompassing energy that eclipsed any other thoughts or worries.
With a quick movement, he discarded his black t-shirt, revealing the well-defined curves of his chest that shimmered with a touch of sweat. His desire was tangible, his lust unmistakable as he straddled between your parted legs, his hands grasping your nape.
The taste of his lips met yours, initiating a sequence of fervent kisses that persisted without pause, each delving deeper than the last. The world around you lost its significance as your breaths synchronized in rhythm, the heat between your bodies escalating.
In the meantime, your hands moved swiftly, deftly unbuttoning your shirt.
As his lips briefly separated from yours, he uttered a whispered confession. "I hate how bad I want you," he admitted, his voice carrying a raw sincerity. However, before you could reply, his attention shifted to your neck, where his teeth gently grazed your sensitive flesh, leaving behind tracks of tantalizing nibbles and passionate kisses.
You couldn't help but release a gasp as pleasure and a twinge of pain electrified your senses, sending delightful shivers coursing down your spine. In the throes of passion, your hand curled into a fistful of his hair, a silent request for more. Call it masochist, but he loved it when you did this. He tenderly pulled at your hair in response, tilting your head back ever so slightly, baring more of your vulnerable neck to his hungry mouth.
Then, you did what came naturally to you. With a voice brimming with longing and ecstasy, you spoke his name, "Satoru," the sound slipping from your lips like a hushed prayer.
His actions came to an abrupt pause. His lips separated from your skin, and his grasp on your hair loosened as if a sudden realization had hit him like a splash of icy water. It was ironic how you still possessed this power over him, a power that could both thrill and unsettle him.
The sound of his name on your lips had become something he treasured, and damn it, he had missed hearing it again. Just like every fucking tiny thing he had missed about you.
With a sudden movement, he withdrew his head from the crook of your neck and brought his forehead close to yours. His hands found solace in brushing back strands of your hair with comforting strokes.
He shut his eyes, and in a whisper, his voice carried a hint of fragility, a rawness that tugged at your heartstrings. "Say it again," he pleaded, his voice breaking under the pressure of unexpressed sentiments. It was as if that simple word held immense significance, a lifeline to his heart that he desperately craved.
Without hesitation, you took a steadying breath, the name forming on your lips.
"Satoru."
"S-Say it kinder."
"Satoru."
"Say it slower."
"Satoru."
"Say it gentler."
"Satoru."
"Say it louder."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you wanna tell me you miss me."
"Satoru…"
"Say it as if you're annoyed that I eat so many sweets."
"Satoru!"
"Is this why you made the trip to Sendai just to get me those mochis?"
"Say it."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you ever cared, spared a single thought for me."
"SATORU."
"Say it as if when you lied in bed, you remembered something I once said."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if it hurt you too when someone said my name with yours."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if every time a door opened, you too expected me to walk out of it, that every time you cooked, you hummed my favorite songs."
"S-Satoru…"
"Say it as if you need me."
"Satoru."
"Say it again."
"Satoru."
"Again."
"…Satoru."
"Say it as if you want to tell me something important."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you want me to know you won't stay."
"Toru."
"No. Not like this."
"Satoru?"
"Please."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you want me to know you're gonna run away again."
"Satoru…"
"Huh. Better. Now say it as if you wanna tell that you slept badly without me, that you only dreamed of me, and in the morning, you woke up exhausted without having any desire to live."
"Satoru."
"You don't have a line, do you? No remorse. No regret. Not even a single thought for the man you left behind like a walking ghost. And you won't ever stop."
"Satoru."
"Once you were gone, they gathered all your belongings as evidence. See this hair tie on my wrist?" He lifted his hand. "This and your sweatshirt, which no longer carries your scent, are the only things I have left. Say it as if you still have that shirt of mine."
"Say it!"
"Sa-to-ru."
"Did you know that I actually thought if I messed myself up, went all self-destructive, and threw a massive tantrum, you'd come back? I mean, why should I bother taking care of myself? That was supposed to be your job, right?"
"Sa…toru."
"Oh, by the way, I completely wrecked that bench on the hill where you used to sit. And then I went ahead and destroyed the whole damn place, then just sat right there amidst the wreckage. I mean, why should I even give a damn when you stopped caring about me? Say it as if you get where I'm coming from."
"Satoru…"
"Yet you know what's funny? Ask me if I still love you like the first day?"
"Satoru?"
"It can't be just me, right? You can't be done with me. Tell me you love me."
"Okay. It's—"
"Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru…"
Everything he thought he knew flew right out the window. He had noticed the tremor in your breath and the shake in your voice, but the desperate murmurs of his name caused his eyes to flutter open. Your face was marked with the faint traces of tears, glistening in the light.
You blinked, revealing a spectrum of sadness and beauty unlike anything he'd seen before. The ability to convey so much with just a glance caught him entirely off guard.
Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips against the curve of your cheeks, softly caressing them. Nuzzling his nose against your skin, he lovingly kissed away the salty tears, his tongue delicately brushing your face with a soothing touch. Each tender movement provided a comforting solace during your emotional moment.
As he lovingly attended to your tears, you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. He paused, eyes widening in surprise. However, before any words could escape, you leaned in and kissed him. In that single gesture, you conveyed your desires, and he, in turn, found his answer within the depths of that passionate kiss.
As soon as his palms glided over your smooth skin, delicately capturing your erect nipple between his fingers, the bra was tossed somewhere amidst the bedding.
"Lie back," Satoru instructed. He then crawled onto you, your bare chests meeting. He supported himself with his arms on either side of your head to ensure he didn't crush you under his weight.
He positioned himself atop you, overwhelmed by the yearning that had built up in your absence. The thirst to have you beneath him had grown insurmountable. He had craved the sight of your body begging him to take you, the undeniable desire radiating from you.
He locked eyes with you, keeping you in his gaze as he absorbed every aspect of your beauty. The polished planes of your face shimmered with fresh tears, adding a new layer to the bliss. Your eyes were rimmed with redness, solely for him, and this sight rendered him speechless.
Because what if he accidentally stumbled upon the wrong words, and the magic vanished, snatching you away once more, leaving him with nothing but a pumpkin carriage and a single pair of shoes?
He didn't want his arms to be deprived of your warmth. Your touch. Your lips. God, your lips. Your mouth on his neck. Your body wrapped around his. He couldn't bear losing you again, and the realization was like a pendulum the size of the moon. It wouldn't stop slamming into him.
Blinking his white lashes, he swallowed back the fear building in his throat.
What an irony!
The strongest wasn't fearless.
With his knee between your thighs and his body pressing closer, he realized he was paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in his lungs.
"When we were together, I became you," he stated. "You became the reflection I saw in the mirror, and I liked it more. So, I stopped being myself. It was fine because I had you. But when you left, I lost myself along with you."
"Satoru," you called, your voice soft, so soft. He wasn't unfamiliar with the touch of women, but yours were gentler, yet deadlier than them all. "I'm sorry for bringing us to this point." You drew his form closer. The resonating beats of your heart were audible, pulsing deeply within your chest. "Will you ever forgive me?"
Your words unleashed a tumult of feelings within him. Goddammit. He wasn't lost before he met you, but he found himself after having you, only to get lost more after losing you.
Satoru's tears stung as they fell backward down his throat, burning as they went. "Kiss me, and I'll forget everything," he uttered.
And you complied. You kissed him as if swimming through rivers of honey, as if being dipped in pure gold, like diving into an ocean of bliss, and he didn't realize you two were drowning because he was too caught up in the current to notice. Nothing held significance anymore—neither rules, nor the room, nor even the entire fucking Jujutsu society.
All that mattered was this.
This.
This very moment. These lips. This delicate body pressed against his, and these warm hands always discovering new ways to hold his heart.
Oh, My!
He wanted so much more of you. He wanted every part of you. And he kissed you back. Like a mild breeze. Like cherry blossoms. Like a blue spring.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Satoru drew away. It remained a secret, but piecing himself back together hurt just as much as falling apart. It felt like an ache that needed to be soothed.
You were the cure, so his finger lightly grazed the corner of your mouth, tracing its shape, curves, and subtle crevices. As he kissed the corner of your eyebrow, he whispered your name. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, causing a slight squirm in your body. He planted a kiss on your neck, just beneath your earlobe, and you tilted your head, inviting him in. Perhaps you resisted the urge to plead for more, for a faster pace.
You used to love this, remember?
His lips moved down the expanse of your neck, delicately tracing the sensitive skin of your collarbones. Not content to be passive, your hands ran down his back, roaming over his broad shoulders, pressing into his back dimples, and clutching his hips. With a handful of his hair, you pulled him closer, leaving small kisses on his neck, arms, and chest.
It was incredible. Being with you, touching you, having you like this. The adrenaline rush was so powerful and euphoric that it made everything feel within reach.
He muttered your name, his lips mouthing the letters, barely speaking.
He pressed his lips against your upper lip.
He ran his tongue along your lower lip.
He planted kisses beneath your chin, on the tip of your nose, along your forehead, temples, and cheeks across your jawline. Then he moved to your neck, behind your ears, and the space between your breasts. Delicately, he nibbled on your sensitive nipples, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to your belly button until his entire form moved down your figure, disappearing as he shifted downward, and suddenly, his chest was hovering above your hips.
As his lips descended towards the hem of your underwear, he lifted his head right before crossing that boundary, locking eyes with you. His gaze carried a mix of intense reverence and a silent question.
You met his gaze, the unspoken understanding passing between you. Your nod conveyed an affirmation, a wordless permission to continue. With your approval, he lowered his head once again. Before you knew it, he skillfully used his teeth to remove that small piece of fabric while the captivating scent drove him wild with desire.
Having removed your panties, his lips continued exploring, leaving heated kisses and lingering caresses from your toes to your thighs. Firmly holding your calves, he parted your legs, creating just enough space for his head to fit between them.
Your thighs were lifted, obscuring him from your sight. All you could see was the top of his head, the curve of his shoulders, and the unsteady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Eventually, even that view vanished as his lips closed around your clit, causing your head to fall back and muffled moans to escape your lips.
Satoru's large hands trailed down and up your exposed upper thighs and ribs, tightly gripping your hips to keep you in place. He delighted in how you squirmed each time his hair brushed against your groin, until his tongue slipped into your hole, and the taste of you made fireworks explode in the back of his head.
With his right hand pressed against your stomach, his tongue danced and teased, evoking ecstatic cries from your lips. His mouth explored the known territories you had never witnessed, yet he remembered them intimately.
While fully engrossed in eating you, he suddenly and intentionally slipped his middle finger inside, and his mouth fervently sought to suck the soul out of your essence as if seeking retribution for all the times he had jerked off thinking about you creaming around his shaft. That's why he left you on the precipice of climax, working his way up your body. Satoru was never cruel enough to deny you the release you craved, so his fingers remained ready.
With an eagerness to witness the pleasure etched across your face, he slowly ascended your body, his touch kindling a burning anticipation within you. Continuing his exploration, his adept fingers navigated their way to your most intimate region, gently pressing against the delicate entrance.
"Let me know if it hurts, alright?" he whispered, his nose caressing the skin of your stomach, placing sporadic kisses around your breasts and collarbones to alleviate any tension. His disheveled hair and moist lips were evidence of the indulgence in your sweet taste.
"Take it easy— ahhh!"
He wore a satisfied smile as two of his large fingers effortlessly slid into your slit. Your nails dug into the sheets, whimpers escaping your lips as his hand rhythmically moved up and down within your tight walls.
Your mouth opened in a soundless moan, and he peppered you with kisses all around. Tears glistened in your eyes, and tiny strands of hair clung to your sweaty forehead. When his thumb rubbed, and the fingers hit all the right spots, your throat wailed in frustration.
You firmly grasped his free arm and tugged him towards you, bringing him closer until he was on top of you. You might have turned into a cold-blooded curse user, left dead bodies behind, or broken his heart apart, but you were still the same girl beneath him. The girl who would laugh with joy and steal his treats. The girl who would fiercely fight by his side and protect him. The girl who would easily surrender and moan in his ear.
He pressed his lips against yours, a reminder of the residual sweetness on his tongue. Just like in the old days, a soft moan escaped your lips as soon as you felt your own taste. If this gesture could convince you to stay with him, why not revel in it? He willingly opened his lips, inviting you to delve deeper, your tongues intertwining and brushing against his teeth.
The stinging bitterness of the past was long gone. He had forgotten everything. Although there was something he knew he shouldn't forget, he couldn't recall why or what it was. With his hard length suffering in his boxers and his digits thrusting backward and forward, paying attention to anything else was hard.
Seeing your desperation for his touch proved to be his downfall. He could die from this, he decided. From wanting you, from the pleasure of being with you.
He wore a smile as you locked eyes and reciprocated with your smile. He pressed his forehead against yours, his skin flushed with heat. With his other hand, he held your head steady while your hands clutched his neck, your palms gliding over the area just above his neckline, and your fingertips tenaciously pressing against his undercut.
"Sato..." you managed to utter, your voice quivering with pleasure as the orgasm washed over you, consuming your senses. Waves of euphoria rippled across your body, inducing uncontrollable tremors. Amidst your release, a single tear broke free, tracing a glistening path down your cheek, much like the cascade of emotions that flowed within you.
While he remained atop you, his voice reached your ears, his lips near your earlobe. "Can you sit up?" he whispered, burying his face in the curve of your neck, allowing your ragged breaths to brush against his shoulder.
Still struggling to catch your breath, you managed to mumble, "Yeah, but..." However, before you could complete your sentence, the bedding beneath you shifted as Satoru pulled you into his arms, clutching you tight.
He exhaled and looked at you, but this time, there were stories in his eyes, thoughts, whispers, and feelings of things he had never told you. He looked like he was hanging on his sanity by a fraying thread—you.
He touched your flushed cheeks as if uncertain of your tangible presence. His four fingers caressed the side of your face with tenderness before sliding behind your neck, caught in that in-between spot below your ear, and his thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, then grazing your bottom lip.
He pondered the countless things your lips had done. They had touched, kissed, and pressed against sensitive areas of his skin. They had spoken lies and made promises, and the words they had formed, the shapes and sounds they had shaped, he yearned for them all.
Satoru inched closer, cradling you like you were made of precious crystals. Holding you and looking at his own hands as if he couldn't believe you were real and truly there.
"I'm right here, baby. Look at me," you whispered, grasping his hands and kissing them.
All six of his eyes obeyed and stared at you. Gone was the curse user targeting Higher Ups. This woman before him had never done anything wrong. You were perfect and kind, untouched by the horrors of death.
He took hold of your hands and pressed your palms against his face, reclaiming the tears you had bestowed upon him. With an eternity of love, he whispered your name in the softest of whispers.
What if this was a dream?
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
He shook, shuddered, splintered into teardrops, and you embraced him like no one had before. Overwhelmed by the intensity, he struggled to contain himself, but seeing you cling to him as you might never let go stirred something within him. It was a heady sensation, knowing that you were there, caring for him, desiring him, needing him in this way. It made him believe that this was indeed real.
Gently, you stroked his silvery locks of hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. Gradually, your arms became the arms around his neck; your lips became the lips pressed against his, your body the warmth he felt. Funny how the moment he felt your touch, it burned a hole right through his head and pulled all his thoughts out.
He wasn't even breathing, but he was alive, and he was kissing you. Deeply, desperately. His hands fervently caressed the small of your back as he lifted you onto his lap, and instinctively, your legs wrapped around his hips.
Then, it was your turn to reciprocate. You planted kisses all over him—his cheeks, eyelids, chin, the tip of his nose, and the space between his eyebrows. You trailed along his forehead and traced his jawline, covering every inch of his face. These kisses conveyed more than words ever could.
And you took your time.
As your mouth moved down his neck, he let out a gasp. It was a moment to relish. Your tongue continued to worship the hills and valleys of his well-defined arms, tracing the graceful curves of his collarbones. Inhaling the intoxicating scent of his skin, you savored his taste. Your hands explored his abs, tracing along his navel and the delicate trails of hair beneath.
He broke apart with your small licks here and there, breathing hard, and stared at you dumbfounded. His mind remained hazy, unable to fully comprehend how your fingers toyed with the waistband of his boxer briefs.
Tilting your head to a side, you pressed your lips against his again, seeking him with a burning need, a new kind of desperation. Your other hand threaded in his hair, your lips so soft, so urgent against his, like fire and cinnamon exploding in his mouth.
Satoru nibbled your bottom lip in a flash before pulling back slightly. You were flooding his body with so much heat and desire. You parted your lips to sigh in his mouth, and that slight sound of pleasure drove him to the edge of madness.
Just as he was about to bring his mouth to your nipples, your hand suddenly slipped into his underwear and encircled his erectness pressing against your groin.
Oh.
Well.
He clenched his teeth, suppressing a groan. Oh God! He had fucking missed you holding his member in your palm. But you didn't stop at that. He gasped as you began to rub the tip with your thumb. His body ached everywhere as he tasted the colors and sounds that existed nowhere else. Your forehead rested against his chin as you continued to stroke his hardness up and down beneath his boxers. You were untamed, cruel, yet remarkably gentle.
"Take it off, Satoru," you whispered in his ear, your breath ragged. "I want you in me. Deep. Right. Now. Please."
He was beyond the reach of rational thoughts. Beyond words, beyond comprehension. The world was beyond understanding because nothing could ever compare with this. Nothing could ever capture the way he was feeling right now. He was left with only this very moment: You on his lap, your warmth against his hands, and your lustful eyes fixed upon him, making him absolutely insane.
Satoru held onto your waist with a firm grip, lifting you slightly, and in the blink of an eye, his briefs glided down his long legs until their whereabouts became irrelevant in the heat of the moment.
The wetness between your thighs was no longer a hidden secret, just as his hardness was revealed when you surrounded each other everywhere.
He watched as you reached down and guided his erection against your slippery entrance, making a few strokes to ensure the perfect alignment. His racing pulse could probably be felt in your palm and soon inside you.
Using both hands, he gripped your hips and pulled you downward, drawing you closer to him. A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you, always surprised about his size. He intended to allow you time to adjust, but you fervently clung to his neck, hitching your legs around his waist, urging him to penetrate you completely. A scream escaped your lips as you bit into his shoulder blade, but he remained composed, relishing the sensation of stretching you. He cherished the feeling of your inner walls squeezing him and the weight of your body against his balls. To be honest, he would stay like this forever.
Feeling your readiness, his hold tightened, and he started moving your body up and down. You cried out as you nestled your cheek into the curve of his neck, and he felt like dying and somehow being brought back to life in the exact moment, in the same breath.
Fuck! You were full of him.
He raised your thighs, stifling a groan that threatened to rip his throat as your lips met his. It left him bewildered, pondering why he hadn't perished, burst into flames, or snapped in half.
The room was consumed by silence, punctuated only by the sound of your heavy breaths. Your chests pressed against each other, colliding with the rhythm of your pulses.
As he sensed your arms tightening around him, he reciprocated with heightened strength, lifting and thrusting you with an intensity that transcended the bounds of restraint. Each movement struck the place he knew too well.
His teeth captured your bottom lip, eliciting a momentary jolt of pleasure. Your nails pressed into his shoulder as his fingers ran through your hair, pulling you nearer, immersing you in the fervent abyss of his mouth. The taste of you was a captivating fusion of sweetness and passion, an intoxicating blend that left both of you craving for more.
He kept trying to say your name, but he found himself unable even to catch his breath, let alone speak a single word.
The pace increased slightly; each thrust was hard, deliberate, wringing gasps, whimpers, and long, rolling moans from you.
Your eyes tingled with tears, falling fast down and traveling quietly down your cheeks. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs two parentheses in your mouth, touching your tongue and the saliva within. It was as if he had discovered an oasis in the vast expanse of a desert, gazing at you with eyes ablaze like fire reflected in water.
"I love you," he whispered over and over, his voice fragile and uneven. His lips covered yours in a tender kiss. He kissed you and tasted your tears, the lasting essence of pleasure in your mouth. He kissed you and kissed you until time toppled over, and your heads spun into a blissful oblivion.
Your head rested against his, and as you delicately nipped at his earlobe, he felt stripped down to his very core, just as he had unraveled you from within. Your sweet little tongue was frantic when you whispered, "I'm yours to love."
Something inside him melted. Hearing your words, he held still for moments, sucking in the air because he felt almost dizzy with satisfaction, running his hands over your thighs.
You. You belonged to him. You didn't erase the pain you had caused. You didn't fix everything you'd broken, but that wasn't what he needed anyway. All he needed was you, and with you, everything would be alright.
He firmly grasped your buttocks, burying his face against your shoulder as he sped up. He was shattered to pieces, but with you, he got put back together differently, better, and more himself than he ever could have been. Gritting his teeth, he succumbed to the impending climax. His hands glided along your back as you shuddered, your inner walls pulsating around him so hard that he couldn't hold back his release. With a growl, he thrust wildly, once, twice, until everything around you both turned to a world of vibrant colors and radiant light, where the sun shone, oceans sparkled, and Sakura trees bloomed.
*
Both of you were lying on a pillow, breathless and sweaty. Satoru's face was buried in the crook of your neck.
Your hand had delicately weaved its way into his hair, fingers stroking the silky strands as you both sought to ground yourself in the aftermath of your orgasms.
You rested your cheek against his head, your voice carrying a hint of breathlessness as you began to speak. "How is Shoko doing?
"She's probably smoking even more now," he murmured, his lips grazing against your shoulder as he pulled you closer. Despite the physical closeness, a deep ache echoed within him, yearning for an even deeper connection that felt just beyond his grasp. The desire to merge both body and soul, to be completely intertwined with you, was tangible in his touch.
His arms tightened around you as if attempting to bridge an unseen gap that couldn't be seen, but he could feel it. Each hug and touch was an attempt to mend the distance that pained him. The depth of his need reverberated through his being. It was visible in the depths of his eyes. It sucked to be this close yet feel so far from someone. But he didn't want to worry. As long as you were together, he believed nothing terrible could happen.
"Why probably so?" you asked, your curiosity piqued as you turned your head towards him. Your lips touched his soft, silky white hair. "Is it because of the numerous missions you're taking?"
"You seem to know every detail of my life," he remarked, turning his head towards you, the closeness so intimate that your noses nearly touched. His hand found its way to your arm, his finger tracing a path down its length, lost in contemplation.
"I've always kept tabs on you. I'm not even ashamed of it," you declared, your attention fixed on his ocean-blue eyes.
He let out a shaky sigh. "There's no longer a reason for me to stay in Tokyo like I used to," he whispered, his voice hinting at wistfulness. The words floated in the air, pregnant with unspoken meanings. As he locked eyes with you, his gaze transformed into a sea of emotions, reflecting a profound depth of feelings that transcended mere words.
"What about your students?"
"They're doing well even without me," Satoru said, his voice filled with fondness and melancholy. As his hand gracefully slid into your hair, he tucked back the strands that obscured your face, revealing the beauty of your features.
His thumb stroked your cheek in a soothing gesture. "Megumi came close to expanding his domain," Satoru continued, his voice filled with a hint of excitement. "Yuji would be thrilled to—"
"No, Satoru!" you interjected, your voice resolute. Your firm interruption halted his sentence as your face displayed a frown, your eyebrows furrowing with determination. "The answer is no!"
Satoru's hand dropped weakly onto the sheets, his fingers losing their previous touch. When his gaze met yours, a deep sadness flooded his eyes, turning the serene ocean within them into a turbulent storm.
He struggled to find the right words to make his case but couldn't resist trying to reason with you. "Come back with me. I have enough power and privilege to protect you—"
"I don't want your protection!" you exclaimed, your voice carrying a sharp edge that cut through his being. The words resounded with a harshness reminiscent of the day you decided to leave, which had left an indelible mark on both of you. It was a day that Satoru had always blamed himself for, haunted by the belief that he had failed to notice you drifting away.
His eyes, filled with sorrow, locked onto yours, silently begging for understanding as he summoned the bravery to express his deepest desires. "Don't you want a life with me?" he questioned, his voice brimming with the dreams and aspirations he had envisioned for both of you. "What about living in a house with blue shutters, windows overlooking the ocean, and—"
"How are you still such a wide-eyed, dreamy little boy, Satoru?" you remarked, your voice tinged with tenderness and sadness. As you spoke, your hand extended, interlocking your fingers with his. "Stop living in a fantasy world," you urged. The words pleaded for him to accept reality and let go of dreams no longer aligned with his chosen path. "Even if I had the chance to go back, I wouldn't want to," you continued. "The Jujutsu society is a broken bone that won't set right, and no matter how much you try to mend it, it won't work. I started hunting Higher Ups because I have a purpose. I can't be by your side."
As you raised your head, a glimmer of compassion and understanding shimmered in your eyes. The pain etched on Satoru's face was evident to you. In a gentle tone, you encouraged him, saying, "We've made different choices. Don't judge me because I never questioned why you didn't follow me. Our approaches may differ, but we share the same dream of creating a better world. So, I don't regret leaving, but if there's anything I regret, it's not cherishing every moment I had with you. But I'm doing it right this time. I'm memorizing every detail, so I have something to hold onto."
Your words bounced around in the fog of his head, blurring his senses, misting his eyes, and muddling his logic. In his bones, there was just ice. His entire being wanted to vomit. Reality slapped him in the face, punched him in the jaw, and dumped him into the ocean.
Until today, he thought he had fully come to terms with everything. He believed he had adapted to living with your absence, like a disabled person learning to avoid putting weight on his injured leg. However, deep down, he knew he was living on eggshells, always wondering when something would break, when everything would crumble.
But with your answer, stacks of sorrow grew inside him, settling on his bones as if a cable had twisted around his neck, a worm crawling across his stomach. It was the night, midnight, and the twilight of indecision. Too many pains to bear.
He realized how foolish he had been to believe he could simply blend in and lead an ordinary life.
Satoru.
Satoru Gojo.
Satoru Gojo, The Strongest.
The mere thought of it filled him with mortification.
He shook his head, coughing as his lungs were tormented, heaving strange, horrible gasps until his whole body spasmed into submission. His head was spinning, thoughts knocking into one another. With clenched fists, he fought against the misery, forcing it back down. Not again. Not again. Not again.
"Satoru?" you called out to him, and a thousand pieces of feeling stabbed you in the heart. Realizing how deeply he loved you kept hitting him in the face, the skull, and the spine. He ran a hand across his face and through his hair, displaying signs of wanting to scream, to break something, as if he was on the verge of losing his sanity.
You hugged him, bridging the gap between your bodies and leaning your cheek against his rock-hard chest. Your hands caressed his stomach as your lips left random pecks here and there.
"It's not just your shirt that I have," you expressed. "I also have our shared blanket from our room and a collection of photographs I'm too afraid to look at. I fear that if I see them, I'll go right back to you and beg your forgiveness."
You dropped a kiss on his chin. Then, on the curve of his shoulder and his shoulder blades. Five kisses down his throat, each softer than the last. You kissed his cheeks, hands, and eyelids for every moment of loneliness he had ever endured.
You continued, "My body hasn't realized we are no longer together. It calls out for you at night, unaccustomed to not having you tightly enveloping me like a second layer of skin."
He closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to gain control of himself. "Why are you putting me through this?" he asked, his hand caught in his hair. "Why are you scratching my wounds?"
"Because I want to remake you again, Satoru. You should get broken apart and rebuild in a way that won't cause you pain anymore." You kissed the hand covering his mouth, not holding back. Keeping your head there, you leaned against his heart.
"It's not as straightforward as a simple yes or no," you said, your voice cracking as you spoke. "Let's just enjoy this moment together..."
A sudden searing heat flashed behind his eyes, and his heart leaped at your response. His hand trembled, and his eyes were willing and wanting but filled with sadness.
He shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes open, jaw clenched tightly, and muscles tense. Breathing heavily, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. The ache in his chest had grown more assertive, more painful.
You lifted your head and reached up to stroke his cheek. "Love is the most twisted curse," you murmured as you tilted his chin toward your mouth. He blinked rapidly. Words were whispered upon his lips that no one had ever spelled out for him. "And we are the most cursed of all, aren't we?" you told him, watching the movement in his throat and his effort to keep it together. It didn't take you long to kiss him again. Tenderly.
Unable to find the right words, he relied on the language of touch, pressing his lips against yours. A sigh escaped into your shared kiss, and you responded by kissing him even more passionately, almost desperately, as if trying to pass over your breaths to him. The taste of salt lingered on your tongues. The wet drops falling on your cheeks made his flesh burn. Unsure of whose tears they were, he continued to cling to you, even if it was almost for the final time.
The saddest world in this whole wide world was "almost." You almost came back to him. He almost had you. You two almost made it.
*
You woke up with a smile, feeling a pleasant warmth enveloping your skin, remnants of the memories from the previous night. The room was filled with a fresh ambiance, hinted at by the open window that welcomed a gentle breeze. The scent of damp earth filled the air, evidence of the rain that had visited during the night.
Letting out a sigh, you brushed your face against the pillow. Your hand instinctively reached out to where Satoru was supposed to be, but a pang of emptiness washed over you. He wasn't there, and your eyes flew open, a sourness clouding their once-serene gaze. Something felt wrong.
Suddenly, sitting up, a sense of panic pulsed through your veins. The realization dawned upon you—Satoru had left the bed, and his absence spoke volumes. Your glance darted around the room, searching for any signs of his presence, but his clothes were nowhere to be seen.
An agonizing grip took hold of your heart. Conflicting emotions wrestled inside you. You had voiced your decision to part ways, to not be by his side, yet the depth of your desire for him remained steadfast. The pain and the desperate desire for his warmth was a stark reminder that not wanting to be with him didn't mean you were prepared to let go of him completely.
The bitter yet undeniable truth surfaced: as much as you and Satoru were meant to be, fate had not deemed you to last.
You could still feel the lasting presence of Satoru's cursed energy, an invisible thread you could identify even blind. Simply by scent, you would recognize it. It was a power that transcends physical senses, one that would recognize it in death, at the end of the world.
You swiftly snatched your robe and hastened out of the room. And there he was, Satoru, fully dressed, his blindfold tightly secured, sitting still in a chair, facing the untouched mochis. The hair tie was also on the table, indicating that he had removed it from his wrist. You couldn't determine whether it hurt you deeply to see him letting go of a part of you or noticing that he had left his beloved treats untouched.
He wasn't looking at you, so you had time to observe things you hadn't noticed yesterday. He had visibly lost weight. His hair showed signs of splitting and thinning, probably due to stress. Nightmares didn't let him sleep. His uniform appeared wrinkled, and his breaths were unsteady. You knew it wasn't your place to worry about him anymore, but you couldn't help it. Taking care of him had become a habit. He appeared weary, displaying the same profound exhaustion you experienced, filling you with fear.
His shoulders quivered up and down, and you could tell he was crying even though he was silent as a corpse. Your heart quickened as you approached him. With trembling hands, you reached for his blindfold, a desperate attempt because, goddammit, you fucking loved his eyes.
"What are you—" you started to inquire, your voice fading as you recognized that your touch couldn't reach him. He had activated his Infinity. Manually. Deliberately. A wave of profound sadness washed over you, tears welling up in your eyes, yet you swallowed them back, resolved to keep your composure. Your hand hung suspended, mere inches away from him, a symbol of the unbridgeable gap that had grown between you.
Then, in a sudden movement, Satoru stood before you, donning a black jacket that draped his figure. His voice emerged raspy, filled with a raw intensity that conveyed the turmoil within his heart.
"I can't handle this anymore. I can't continue being whatever I am to you," he admitted, his words heavy with a sense of resignation. The understanding that the current situation was no longer viable had taken hold of him. "If you want things to remain this way, I can't ignore the fact that we are enemies at the end of the day." He subtly avoided meeting your gaze, averting his eyes from your messy hair and the persistent sadness in your eyes.
"Can you honestly believe that?" you questioned, your voice brimming with incredulity. You took a step forward, narrowing the physical gap between you. It was essential for him to grasp the magnitude of your anguish and directly witness the toll your choice inflicted upon your heart.
Satoru took a step back, his brows furrowing beneath the blindfold that veiled his eyes. "It doesn't matter what I believe," he declared.
Despite the barrier that prevented physical touch, you closed your eyes, driven by the overwhelming desire to bridge the divide. Ignoring the protective shield of his Infinity, you leaned in, your lips seeking his in a desperate act of defiance. Tears streamed down your closed eyes as he relinquished the barrier that kept you apart. You pressed your lush mouth against his. It never took him long to respond, to part his lips. He kissed you back, holding your head steady with his hand while his other embraced you tightly. He had your heart, and you loved him quite horribly, too. This fact always smacked you over the head so hard you felt dizzy.
You held each other tightly, his arms enveloping you as his fingers intertwined with your hair. In that stolen moment, you caught a glimpse of the life you longed for—a life filled with love. Having this every day was within reach, but the harsh reality of the jujutsu world loomed, casting a shadow over your fragile dreams. The awareness that he would be exploited until his final breath burdened you deeply. Unable to witness his suffering, you knew you couldn't change your decisions. You had to reset this Jujutsu World. For him. For his students. For the happiness you owed yourself.
As your lips reluctantly separated, a bittersweet trace of saliva remained between you. Satoru gripped your shoulders, and as you glanced up, you noticed his blindfold was damp, indicating the tears he had shed.
You lowered your head. "I wish you had never crossed paths with me," you murmured, keeping your gaze fixed on the ground until he reached out and lifted your chin.
"I wouldn't take that chance. Not in a million infinities. Because there was love, even if it didn't change anything, even if it made the pain worse, love was there," he said, staring at your mouth. "I'll love you in this life. I'll love you in death and in whatever lies after. And likely even beyond that," he whispered. The words did something to you. They burned something inside of you. You swallowed hard. A fire consumed your mind. "No matter what, I'll always love you," he declared, and pain filled your veins. You could feel it in your blood.
"Satoru," you whispered. Your eyes fogged up, but you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears away. You couldn't let a second of this be blurry. You couldn't afford to allow any of this to slip away. His absence felt like a missing limb, and his longing for you was a bullet in the head. How could he still love you? How could he find relief in your touch?
"But if we meet again," he said, his thumb brushing against your earlobe. "Just kill me. Because I'll be forced to kill you, and it's the same thing." As if the longer he held you, the more he would want you, he let go of you.
The enormity of his duty and the unyielding constraints of the jujutsu world, forcing him to make an unbearable choice, hit you like a cold gust of wind, leaving you feeling isolated and abandoned. The chill of that moment seeped into your bones, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had felt this same frigid loneliness when you had left him behind.
Satoru walked towards the door, each step carrying the finality of his decision that settled upon the room. Pausing at the threshold, a silent plea lingered in his words. "So, please, I beg you to stay away from me." With those words, he severed the last thread that had linked you, leaving you with a deep sense of loss.
The door closed behind him, leaving you in an empty and heavy space with unspoken regret. You were alone again, bereft without him, half dead without him. You opened your mouth and screamed. You screamed and screamed until your voice cracked beneath the pressure. Until you feared your throat would shred from the force. You wanted to crawl outside of your body so desperately so that you could escape this feeling.
No one ever warned you how men with such pretty eyes, who smelled like vanilla, tasted like rain, and talked like silver, were the reason behind tear-soaked pillows, half-finished poems, and so many sad dreams.
One last shout ripped out of your throat, this one so full of pain that brought you to your knees. You crumbled. The raw sound tapered off, fading into a hoarse, staccato cry. You sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with oxygen you didn't want, but you were too lost in your grief to scream like you wanted to.
It seemed like Satoru Gojo's story had peaked, and anything that followed wouldn't hold the same significance to him. Because for him, there was before you, and there was during you. For some reason, he never thought there would be an after you. But there was, and he was in it. He would be in it forever.
Moving forward, he silently implored his bones to remain firm, to support him for the remainder of the day and beyond. He ventured through the forest, his steps disturbing the mud and leaves as his footprints gradually faded away until there was nothing but the empty silence of a long, lonely dusk.
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Tag list: @istanuwow @anime-lover1234 @rentaldarling @enchantedforest-network
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 Disclaimers:
This creation draws significant inspiration from the incredible artistry of @animaybi (TikTok) and features quotes from the captivating writings of @starlightonthewaves (TikTok). Both of these talented artists deserve immense praise for their remarkable contributions.
Art is created by me.
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Are you cursing me for writing this? :D
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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year
Text
Take A Hint
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: no matter how many times Peter tried to ask you out, you never get the hint
Authors note: can you guess what non marvel character this was originally written for
Masterlist
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“Hold the door!”
Peter stuck his hand between the elevator doors of the tower when he heard an unfamiliar voice. The doors opened back up and you stepped inside.
“Thanks for holding the door. It’s nice to meet you. It’s my first day.” You said as you held your hand out to him.
“It’s nice to meet you too. And I hope you don’t think it’s rude if I don’t shake your hand. I just have a thing with germs. The number of pathogens passes during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss.”
“Hm. I’ll have to take you up on that.” You replied with a coy smile, sending a blush to Peters face.
“I hope you do.” He mumbled shyly, getting a laugh out of you.
“I’m Y/n, by the way. Mr. Stark just recruited me to be on the team.”
“I’m Peter. And I didn’t know we were getting anyone else on the team. I’m barely on the team myself.“
“Same with me. I think I’m just doing a trial run to see if I fit in well.” You told him. “Is there anything I need to know before I meet the team? Any insider tips you can give me?”
“Well, you’re a pretty girl, so Sam is definitely going to hit on you.” Peter rolled his eyes a little. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, he’ll back off. He’s a flirt but he’s not an asshole. Well, he is an asshole, but he won’t be towards you. He is towards me though, but that’s a different story. Tony talks with an inflection in his voice that makes it really hard to tell if he’s kidding or not so never take anything he says seriously. And you should know Bucky and Steve are not dating. Neither are Bruce and Natasha. I don’t really know what’s going on between them but at this point I’m too scared to ask.”
“Is it important that I know they’re not dating?”
“Yes. You’re inevitably going to wonder about it so I’m telling you right now that they’re not.”
“Good to know.” You chuckled.
“Yeah. You’ll figure everyone else out pretty quickly. They’re all good people.” Peter assured you.
“What about you? Is there anything I need to know about you?” You asked, making Peter blush again.
“That depends on what you want to know.”
“Well I’ll have you know that I like to know everything. I hate when shit is unbeknownst to me.” You replied, making Peter laugh.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. I swear.” Peter answered, earning a smile out of you just as you reached your floor.
“I’m happy to hear that. I have to meet with Mr. Stark before I meet the team. It was nice meeting you, Peter.” You waved to him as you walked off the elevator.
“You too.” Peter called after you. He watched your disappear down the hall with a smile on his face and did a little happy dance before going to the meeting room.
It wasn’t long before Tony came into the room with you by his side. You looked around nervously at all the Avengers until your eyes landed on Peter. He gave you a double thumbs up and you visibly relaxed.
“Hello all. As you may have heard from my weekly newsletter I send out on Snapchat, we have a new recruit joining the team.“
“Snapchat newsletter?” Nat whispered to Sam.
“I don’t know. I blocked him after the first one he sent.” Sam sighed.
“Is Snapchat the one where you swipe right if you find a person attractive?” Steve leaned in to whisper.
“Yes.” Natasha lied.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I gave you the impression that I wanted to be spoken over when I’m talking.” Tony shouted over them, making you stifle a laugh.
“Sorry.” They mumbled.
“Thank you. Now, please give a warm and fuzzy welcome to Y/n.” Tony stepped to the side and proudly presented you.
“Hello.” You smiled shyly and waved. Everyone stared blankly at you and you wanted to disappear into the floor. You could feel your face burning up in embarrassment until someone stood up and walked over to you.
“Well I’ll be the first to play with the shiny new toy. Hi, gorgeous. I’m Sam.” Sam smiled suavely and shook your hand. You heard the name and made eye contact with Peter over Sam’s shoulder. Peter rolled his eyes again and you giggled.
“Hi. Nice to meet you.” You greeted him. Natasha and Steve were the next ones to get up to shake your hand.
“I’m Steve and that’s Natasha.” Steve told you as he firmly shook your hand.
“You can call me Nat.” Natasha smiled warmly at you when you greeted her.
“Hi Nat. Hi Steve.” You smiled timidly.
“This is Bucky.” Steve said and laughed Bucky forward. You held out your hand to shake his but when you saw his metal arm, you retracted it.
“Hi.” You said quickly.
“Sup.” He smirked.
“That’s Rhodey over there. And this is Peter.” Tony said and nudged Peter towards you. You reached out a hand and everyone assumed you were trying to shake Peters hand.
“Oh, Peter doesn’t-“ Tony began to warn you when your hand met Peters shoulder and you pulled him closer to kiss his cheek.
“Good to see you again.” You smiled at him.
“You too.” Peter blushed and patted your arm. Your hand slipped off his shoulder and you looked around to see the rest of the team staring at you.
“Wow. Okay, so, I’m gonna need an explanation for that at some point.” Tony nodded his head.
“I do too.” Sam chimed it.
“Give her some space.” Peter told them. “Here, you can sit next to me.”
You sat in the chair Peter had pulled out for you and gave him a grateful smile.
“Anywho, let’s jump right into the mission. We’re flying out to Socovia today folks for a little world saving. Then maybe some Mexican food after? Yeah? No one’s agreeing but it’s gonna happen anyway. Wheels up in 30.”
The team shuffled out of the room to grab their to go bags as you awkwardly hung back. You waited until you saw Peter and followed him out to the plane.
“Peter?” You whispered and tugged on his sleeve.
“Yeah?”
“Is there assigned seating on the plane?”
“No.” He shrugged. “We can sit wherever we want.”
“But do people typically sit in the same seats? I don’t want to overstep.”
“How about you sit next to me? Then you don’t have to worry.” Peter offered.
“Okay. Thanks.” You smiled and wrapped your arm around his so you could walk onto the plane together.
“So what’s in Socovia?” Natasha asked once everyone was seated.
“People keep getting murdered in the same gruesome way and the same symbol has been left on the wall each time.” Tony explained.
“What symbol?” Peter wondered. Tony took out an Manila folder and slid a photo towards you and Peter. In the picture was a graffiti drawing of the Avengers symbol inside a giant red circle with line going through it. Everyone leaned in to see the picture and understood why this was an Avengers level threat.
“Damn. They put the Ghostbusters thing over it and everything.” You mumbled.
“How gruesome are we talking by the way? Because I just ate.” Sam asked.
“All the victims were chained to the back of a car and dragged until they were decapitated.”
“Oh. Lovely.” Sam smiled sarcastically.
“Murders just keep coming up with new ways to murder, don’t they?” Steve said.
“Actually, dragging is steeped in English history. Back in the 11th century, drawing and quartering was a common form of punishment, and in fact-“
“Peter.” Tony cut him off and shook his head.
“Sorry.” Peter mumbled and slumped in his seat in embarrassment.
“He does that a lot. You’ll get used to it.” Sam told you, making Peter grow more embarrassed.
“Wait. I wanted to hear the rest.” You ignored Sam and turned to Peter.
“You did?” Everyone asked skeptically.
“You did?” Peter smiled in surprise.
“Yeah. What were you saying, Peter?” You asked and gave him your full attention.
“I was just saying that they would also disembowel and behead the victims when they were done with them. That’s all.” Peter continued.
“You just knew that off the top of your head?” Your eyes widened in amazement.
“He knows everything off the top of his head. He’s like a human encyclopedia.” Tony informed you.
“Wow. That’s really cool.” You smiled at Peter. Peter tried to say something in return but found himself too flustered to speak.
“You’ll have to forgive him. You might be the first person to refer to him as “cool”.” Sam snorted.
“Well I think you’re cool.” You said as you continued to ignore Sam.
“Thanks. You’re cool too.” Peter smiled shyly. Sam looked between the two of you before scooting closer to you.
“You know, I wouldn’t mind giving you a tour of the tower once we get back. I’d be more than happy to show you the ropes.” Sam said with a debonair smile.
“That’s okay. Mr. Stark already gave me a tour of the building when he interviewed me to be on the team.” You politely declined.
“A tour before you even joined? Is that so?” Sam raised his eyebrows at Tony.
“She was by far the best candidate.” Tony shrugged. “She had the job before she left my office.”
“Wow. So you’re not just a pretty face?” Sam teased you with a flirtatious wink.
“No. I’m not.” You said flatly.
“I don’t think anyone gets asked to join the Avengers for having a pretty face. I’m pretty sure she was hired because she’s qualified.” Peter chimed in, making you smile.
“That’s awfully charming of you to come to your lady’s defense, spider boy king of thieves, but I’ll have to respectfully disagree. Thor was 100% hired for being pretty.” Tony admitted.
“Oh.” Peter said and sat back in his seat.
“Why’d he call me your lady?” You asked Peter.
“Um, I have no idea.” He lied quickly. Peter turned bright red and looked at Tony, who was looking at the two of you with a knowing expression.
“You know why.” Tony mouthed. He then pointed between the two of you before making his hands kiss each other. Peter motioned for him to stop but you were oblivious to the whole thing.
Once you landed, you got off the plane and waited for further instruction. Tony started to pair everyone off and Peter got excited when your name still hadn’t been called.
“Blues Clues and New Girl, you should head to where the first victim was found. See if you can find anything.” Tony told you and Peter.
“Okay. On it.” Peter saluted him before slipping his mask over his face.
“And hey. No kissing, okay? This is a serious mission.” Tony called after the two of you. Peter was thankful he had his mask on so you couldn’t see the shade of red he turned.
“No kissing? Does he always say that?” You laughed in confusion.
“Uh huh. Let’s not think about it. Let’s go.” Peter said quickly and treaded into the forrest ahead of you.
“Okay.” You laughed skeptically and followed after him. When you caught up to him, you gentle elbowed him in the side.
“Thanks for having my back on the plane, by the way. Sam is just like you said.”
“No problem. And don’t mind Sam. He can only speak to women if he’s flirting.”
“What about you? Do you do a lot of flirting?” You smiled coyly at him, making Peter choke on his saliva.
“I’m afraid I don’t know how.” He admitted.
“Sure you do. Pretend I’m a girl you want to date and give me your best pick up line.”
“Pretend you’re a girl I want to date? What? I mean, I’ll try.” Peter laughed nervously. “But I don’t know any pick up lines.”
“Come on. If you saw me in a bar and you were trying to pick me up, what would you say?”
“I wouldn’t be in a bar.” Peter laughed sheepishly.
“Just humor me.”
“Fine. I would say that I think you’re really beautiful and I would like to take you on a date.” Peter said sincerely as he stopped to look at you. You stopped as well and smiled softly at him when you heard the fondness in his voice.
“Where would you take me?” You asked him.
“A museum.”
“A museum? You had that answer ready.” You chuckled in surprise and took a step closer to him.
“Well I noticed you have a picture of The Kiss as your phone background. I’m a fan of Klimt as well.”
“I love The Kiss. It’s just so romantic.” You sighed. “Even though it looks incredibly uncomfortable.”
“It does. Her neck must really hurt.”
“Do you know any facts about The Kiss?” You asked him. “I only ask since you knew all that stuff back on the plane.”
“Are you being polite or do you actually want to know?” Peter asked skeptically.
“I want to know.” You assured him.
“Well, Klimt’s career was actually on a downfall when he painting it. Before creating the piece, he had received a scathing review in the first decade of the 20th century for his three-part University of Vienna Ceiling Paintings. Because of all the nudity, his works were described as "pornography" and "perverted excess”. It almost ruined his reputation, actually. He later wrote in a letter, "Either I am too old, or too nervous, or too stupid—there must be something wrong." in regards to his paintings. That was all right before he got popular with The Kiss.” Peter told you. He smiled under his mask when he finished speaking and realized it had been a long time since someone had let him talk about something without being interrupted or told to stop.
“You’re so smart.” You sighed. “I wish I was smart.”
“Come on. I’m sure you’re smart.” Peter assured you.
“I’m not. I’m really dumb actually.” You admitted and gave him a sad smile.
“What? I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true. I’m book smart, sure. But when it comes to talking to people, most things go right over my head.”
“That’s okay. You have a lot of other great qualities to you. I’ve only known you a few hours and I can see that already.” Peter told you.
“Aw. Thanks, Pete.” You smiled at him as your shoulder brushed up against each others. Peter smiled shyly in return and felt his face heat up.
“So do you like museums?” Peter asked you.
“Love them.” You gushed. “I like going in and pretending like I’m in that scene from Pride and Prejudice where she stares at Mr. Darcy’s stature and realizes she’s in love with him.”
“I haven’t seen it.” Peter admitted, wishing he had so he wouldn’t disappoint you.
“What? You have to watch it.” You insisted.
“Maybe you could show it to me sometime.” Peter suggested, hoping you’d take the hint that he liked you.
“Yeah! I totally could. And we could check out a museum afterwards so you can feel like that scene!” You smiled in excitement and tugged on his arm.
“It’s a date.” Peter replied, liking how excited you were to spend time together.
“You’re so funny. A date, he says.” You laughed and kept walking into the forest. Peters smile fell when he realized you had in fact not gotten the hint that he liked you.
The longer you lived in the tower, the closer you and Peter became. You spent most of your time together and as much as he loved being your friend, he couldn’t help but pine for you. You often made it seem like you felt the same, but he found that every time he tried to tell you that he wanted to me more than friends, it went right over your head.
“I’ll go easy on you, okay?” Peter said as he held up his boxing glove covered hands during sparing one day.
“I’m gonna knock you out where you stand.” You exclaimed and swung at him. Peter ducked and punched you in the stomach before tackling you onto the mat.
“I’m sorry. But this is the end of the line for you.” Peter smirked as he hovered over you.
“Not if I make it a curve.” You declared before flipping Peter over and pinning him by his wrists.
“Wow. You pinned me.” Peter said with pleasant surprise.
“Please. You totally let me win.” You rolled your eyes and got off of him.
“What? I would never.” Peter said sarcastically.
“You would. And you did. Cheater.” You teased before tugging the strap of your boxing glove off with your teeth. Peter gulped and watched you as you did the same to the other one instead of using your newly freed hand.
“But I cheated for you. That’s a good kind of cheating.” Peter said as he helped you off the ground.
“So you justify cheating? Wow, P. Is this what it would be like to date you? Constantly getting cheated on?” You pretended to gasp as you went to get water bottles out of the refrigerator for the two of you.
“Are you kidding me? I’d be an excellent boyfriend.” Peter insisted and took the bottle you handed him.
“Really? Says who? Where are the user reviews?” You teased and took a sip.
“So far, they haven’t been any users. But if I ever became a boyfriend, I’d be the best boyfriend to ever boyfriend.”
“You know what? I believe you.” You shrugged. “You do have all the best boyfriend qualities. You’re sweet and smart and funny. Not to mention, slightly above average on the handsome scale. You’re kinda a total catch. Oh my god. How come I’m not dating you?”
“You could. If you wanted to.” Peter stammered as his entire face turned red.
“You are so funny. Seriously, why don’t you have a girlfriend?” You laughed as Peters advances went right over your head. Peter frowned a little and decided that if he was going to get through to you, he had to try harder.
A few days later, you came into Peters room while he was doing some homework to show him your outfit.
“Woah. You going out?” He asked you when he saw the little black dress guy had on.
“Yeah. Does this outfit make me look slutty but in a fun way?”
“Honestly, yes. That’s exactly how I would describe it. Who are you going out with?” Peter wondered.
“A boy.”
“What? What boy? Who him? I mean, who is he? What?” Peter fumbled over his words as jealously manifested in his tummy.
“Oh my God. I’m just kidding. I’m going out with some girl friends.” You laughed when you saw how flustered he got.
“Oh. Okay.” Peter sighed in relief.
“You weren’t jealous, were you?” You smiled in surprise.
“I…I was actually.” Peter admitted, knowing there was no point in denying what you already knew.
“Oh. I get it.” You nodded and smiled sympathetically at him.
“Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while-“
“You were jealous that I had a date and you didn’t, weren’t you?” You cut him off. That wasn’t at all what Peter was jealous about and you had once again missed what he was trying to say.
“Yeah. That’s it.” Peter lied.
“P, if you want a date, you just have to ask a girl out. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” You said simply.
“You think so? Any girl?”
“Totally. If a guy like you asked me out, I’d say yes in a heartbeat.“ You assured him.
“You’d say yes if I asked you out?” Peter raised an eyebrow.
“Are you kidding? Absolutely. And I’d lock you down too. You’d never get away from me.” You told him. A smile tugged at Peters lips as your words gave him the confidence to finally ask you out.
“Y/n, I think you are the most beautiful girl in the world and I would love to take you on a date.” Peter said and held his breath in anticipation of your response.
“That was perfect, P! That’s exactly how you should ask a girl out.” You smiled in excitement, making his smile fall.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He grumbled.
“Good luck. See you later!” You patted his back before leaving the room.
The next day, you went into the home theater and found a couple members of the team watching something on the big tv. Peter turned his head when he heard you come in and waved you over.
“Hey. Mind if I share your blanket?” You asked him.
“Yeah. Go ahead.” Peter blushed and lifted up his blanket so you could slide under it. You smiled at him before sitting down and snuggling into his side.
“You’re so warm. Can you start sleeping in my bed? It’s freezing in my room.” You mumbled as you wrapped your arms around his torso.
“I could definitely spoon you at nights for $5 an hour.” Peter teased as he wrapped an arm on you.
“I’d pay $20 an hour just to have these arms around me. Holy shit. They feel like a snake swallowed a baby.” You said as you squeezed his bicep.
“Thank you?” Peter chuckled.
“No. Thank you. Never let me go.” You sighed happily and snuggled back into his chest. Peter felt his face heat up and rested his cheek against the top of your head. You could feel his heart beating against your cheek and nuzzled into his chest further. You stayed in comfortable silence for a minute as your breathing synced up.
“This is nice.” Peter said in a quiet voice.
“It is. You should hold me more often.”
“I would love to do that.” He laughed softly.
“Really?” You asked and tilted your chin up to look at him. He looked down at you and nodded his head. You smiled and snuggled into his chest, restoring his confident once again.
“Do you ever think about being more than friends?” He asked softly.
“Oh my god. Are you finally asking me?” You smiled and sat up a little.
“Yeah. I finally am.” Peter nodded and sat up as well.
“You want to be roommates?” You asked excitedly and squeezed his hands.
“Wait, what?” Peters smile dropped.
“We can get bunk beds and everything! I thought you’d never ask.” You gushed and threw your arms around him to hug him. Peter squeezed his eyes shut in disappointment that you hadn’t understood what he was trying to say but decided that this was better than nothing.
“Me either.” He mumbled.
A week later, you had fully moved into Peters room. He laid awake one night and stared up at the bottom of your top bunk. He thought back to the day you built the bunk bed together and while showering him with compliments for his strength all day, he still had no idea how you really felt about him. You always made it seem like you liked him back but as he stared up at the bottom of your bed, he couldn’t help but think of all the times he tried to ask you out and you didn’t even realize. He was so deep in thought that he hadn’t even noticed you had climbed down from your top bunk and stood beside his bed.
“Holy shit.” He jumped when he saw you.
“I had a bad dream.” You said in a quiet voice.
“Oh no. Come here.” Peter sat up and patted his bed. You quickly climbed down and got into bed with Peter.
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” You asked and you laid down together.
“Of course. Always.” Peter nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist. You rested your head on his pillow and looked into his eyes.
“You seemed kinda restless up there. Is everything okay?” Peter asked you.
“Not really. I have a lot on my mind.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the matter?”
“I raised my hand in class today and got it wrong. Like, way wrong. A few people laughed because I think they thought I was trying to be funny. But I wasn’t trying to be funny. I really thought my answer was right.”
“At least you tried.” Peter said reassuringly.
“I shouldn’t have tried. I tried to redeem myself later in class by answering another question but I got that one wrong too. And then the teacher asked a question that I definitely knew but when I raised my hand, he laughed and said “maybe you should stop trying”. I felt like such an idiot. I had that right answer. He just didn’t let me say it.”
“Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re not an idiot.” Peter said as he rubbed circles on your back.
“Yes I am. Everyone says so.” You sighed. “I’ll never be smart like you. You know everything about everything.”
“Just because I memorize a bunch of facts doesn’t make me smart. You’re smart in your own way.” Peter told you.
“That’s a nice way of saying I’m dumb.” You chuckled softly.
“I would never call you dumb. I don’t think you’re dumb at all.” Peter shook his head and looked into your eyes
“Aw, P.” You smiled softly and cupped his chin.”
“In fact, I think you’re the loveliest person I’ve ever met. You’re courageous and hardworking and strong and so insanely beautiful sometimes it’s annoying, actually. And when I think of all the adjectives that can be used to describe you, dumb does not make the cut.”
“Why are you so good to me? It’s like you came straight from heaven into my life.” You smiled and scooted closer to him.
“I did. I’m a ghost.” He whispered, making you laugh.
“I’m so glad you were the one I met in the elevator on my first day. Can you imagine if I asked someone like Sam to hold the door for me?”
“You’d be in his bed right now and not mine.” Peter snorted.
“Please. I’d never be in his bed. And I like to think that no matter who held the elevator for me that day, you and I still would’ve formed this bond.” You said without looking into his eyes.
“You think so?” Peter smiled a little.
“I’m positive. I’ve never connected like this with anyone. I never believed in soulmates until I met you.”
“You think we’re soulmates?” Peters smile grew as he pulled you closer.
“Why not?” You shrugged. “Why not suspend your beliefs in science for a moment and believe that you and I were cut from the same cloth? I know it sounds silly, but I think it’s possible. And it makes me happy to believe it. You’re my twin flame.”
Peters heart was pounding in his chest as you said everything he always wanted to hear. Peter brushed some hair off of your face and left his hand on your cheek.
“What are we?” He asked you in a quiet voice.
“I just said we’re twin flames?” You frowned in confusion.
“Not that. I meant our relationship. What do you think of us as?”
“Peter.” You laughed softly and moved closer to him. He nodded his head and eagerly waited for your response.
“Twin flames. I literally just said that. Can you not hear me?” You asked genuinely and spoke a little louder. Peter groaned and rolled onto his back so you wouldn’t see his frustration.
“I’m going to sleep.”
“You promised you’d hold me.” You whined a little.
“Fine. Roll over.”
“Can’t we lay like this?” You asked and tugged his shirt so he’d roll back over to face you.
“Oh. Okay. Sure.” Peters disappointed faded away as he was reminded that just being your friend was a privilege.
“Goodnight, P.” You said through a yawn and wrapped both arms around him to rest your head on his chest.
“Goodnight, honey.”
The next morning, Peter walked into the kitchen and the conversation that had been happening immediately went quiet. Peter looked around in confusion as everyone snickered and hid behind their coffee cups.
“So. Rumor has it you two slept together last night.” Tony said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
“What? Who started that rumor?” Peter frowned as he turned bright red.
“I did. After I went into your room this morning and saw you two tangled together in Peters bed.” Tony smirked and pointed over to you. You were sitting in the living room by yourself with your headphones in so you couldn’t hear the conversation going on.
“Ew. Aren’t you guys like 10?” Sam scrunched his nose.
“No. We’re adults. And it wasn’t like that. She had a bad dream so she slept in my bed.” Peter defended.
“Aw. Look at you comforting your girlfriend when she had a bad dream. How cute.” Sam teased.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter mumbled and felt that of his face got any hotter, he’d explode.
“Wait, she’s not?” Sam asked.
“No. We’re just friends.”
“Well then what the hell am I waiting for? I’m about to get myself Mrs. Falcon.” Sam laughed and got out of his seat. Peter watched him as he went into the living room where you were.
“What’s he doing?” Peter asked Tony.
“Asking Y/n out. Duh.” Tony replied.
“What?! He can’t do that? He’s so big and strong and handsome. What if she says yes?” Peter began to panic and craned his neck to watch you and Sam.
“What’s your damage? I thought you guys were just friends.” Tony snorted.
“We are. I don’t even care actually.” Peter lied and sat back in his seat as his leg bounced. He looked over at you and Sam again and saw you nodding your head at something Sam was saying.
“Are you okay?” Tony asked when he saw the look on Peters face.
“I’m gonna fucking throw up.”
“Plug it up. He’s coming back.” Tony warned him. Sam walked back to Tony and Peter with a look on his face that peter couldn’t read.
“Well? Is she the next Mrs. Sam Wilson?” Tony asked.
“She turned me down.” Sam answered, seeming like he still didn’t believe it.
“What? What did she say?” Peter couldn’t contain his smile as he asked.
“She said she’s flattered but not interested in me.”
“Wait, how did you ask her?” Peter wondered.
“I don’t want to rehash it.” Sam waved his hand. “I asked her to go on a date, she said no, that’s pretty much it.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Peter whispered as he sat back in his chair.
“That’s what I said.” Sam scoffed. “Wait, why are you upset? I’m the one who got turned down.”
“Because I’ve been trying to ask her out for months but she either pretends she doesn’t understand or it genuinely goes right over her head. How come she understood when you did it?”
“Because I was direct. I didn’t beat around the bush like a boy who’s scared to ask his best friend on a date.” Sam told him.
“I’m not scared.” Peter scoffed. “I’m fact, I’m gonna go talk to her.”
“Good luck.” Sam called after him as Peter went over to you.
“Hey.” Peter waved nervously.
“Hey, P. What’s going on?” You smiled and took your earbuds out.
“Not much. I hear Sam asked you out.” Peter said as he sat down beside you.
“Oh. Yeah.” You scrunched your nose a little and laughed uncomfortably.
“You said no?”
“Yeah. I felt bad but he’s not my type.”
“I get that. What is your type, by the way?” Peter asked casually.
“I guess I don’t really know. I just like people that I like. But it helps when they’re kind and can make me laugh. I just want someone who doesn’t make me feel like I have to put on a performance. I want someone who makes me feel like I can be the person I am when I’m alone.” You explained. You thought about it for a second and then laughed a little.
“Hey, look at that. I just described you.” You chuckled. Peters heart beat in his chest and he knew if there was ever a time to tell you how he felt, it was now.
“Well I’m glad you feel that way. Because I have feelings for you. I have for a really long time.”
“Oh. You do?” You frowned and looked concerned. Peter saw your face and sighed, knowing that meant his feelings were likely unrequited.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Well what are the feelings? Oh no! Is the feeling anger? Are you mad at me?” You gasped and put your hand on top of his. Peter stared at you for a long time as he realized his efforts had once again gone directly over your head.
“No. Actually, yeah. I am mad.” Peter realized.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“You haven’t done anything wrong.” Peter sighed. “I’m just confused.”
“About what? Can I help?”
“I have been trying to ask you on a date for months and you haven’t taken the hint yet. Do you just not like me or am I just not being clear enough?”
“You want to take me on a date?” You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Yes. I do.” Peter answered, excited that you had finally understood.
“As friends?”
“No!” Peter groaned.
“As roommates? Oh, I get it. You want to go on a shopping date to IKEA to decorate our room now that we’re roommates.”
“What?! No. How does your mind even jump to that?” Peter whined and buried his face in his hands.
“I’m confused. Are we going to IKEA or not?”
“I WANT TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND.” Peter picked his head up to exclaim.
“You want to be my boyfriend?” Your eyes widened.
“Yes. Finally.”
“But as friends, right?” You continued, making Peter slam his head down on the table.
“What do I have to do to get through to you? Get on my knees?” He asked you.
“It wouldn’t hurt.” You shrugged. And so, Peter got down on one knee and took your hand in his.
“Will you make me the happiest man in the world and let me take you on a date?” Peter asked as he looked into your eyes.
“A date? I thought you were proposing.” You replied, just messing with him now.
“Oh My God. This is impossible. I give up.” Peter got up and held up his hands in defense.
“Aw, what? You’re giving up right at the good part?” You smiled coyly as you stood up as well.
“Good part? What good-“
You cut Peter off by cupping his face to pull him into a kiss. Once he got over his initial shock, his eyes fluttered shut and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer. The team mates in the other room caught sight of this and had a misted reaction of smirks and eye rolls.
“How does tonight at 7 sound?” You asked once you pulled away.
“That sounds perfect.” Peter smiled as his face turned a shade of pink.
“Awesome. It’s a date.” You kissed his cheek before walking out of the room.
A few days later, the entire team piled onto the quintet to set out on another mission. Tony passed around the file to get everyone up to speed on the mission while you and Peter whispered things in each others ears and laughed quietly.
“Wow. This must be some kind of satanic ritual. All victims killed so far have been virgins.” Steve noted as he read through the file.
“Uh oh. Peter better stay home.” Sam snorted.
“Peters not a Virgin.” You laughed, making everyone fall silent. Peter shrunk down in his seat and turned bright red as you realized why everyone was staring at you in disgust.
“I’m guessing.” You quickly added.
“So I take it she finally got the hint, huh?” Sam asked Peter with an unamused expression.
“Yeah.” Peter smiled proudly. “She got it.”
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improbable-outset · 13 days
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📄 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞
Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k
𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: none, just fluff
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You didn’t expect the mysterious man that you met at a wedding to change your whole trajectory of the night
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You rarely attend weddings unless it was for immediate family. However, you haven’t seen your childhood friend in a long time. After you graduated high school and went off to college, you both haven’t been in touch since.
So when she invited you over to her wedding, you couldn’t turn down an offer to see an old friend and celebrate the new couple.
The air in the venue was charged with energy as the guests mingled to meet the newlyweds. The sounds of rhythmic heels clicking and collective cheers provided a backdrop in the room.
You tried to allow yourself to be in the moment and enjoy yourself, even if you didn’t know a lot of people here. You did manage to converse with the bride’s parents who still remembered you from your childhood.
Amidst the lively atmosphere, you found yourself drawn to the periphery of the room. From your vantage point you caught sight with a lone figure.
He held a stern expression and stood with an air of mystery, a stark contrast to the laughter you were surrounded with. His posture was upright and stiff with his gaze fixed on some distant point amongst the dance floor.
He had a large muscular build. Even under his dress shirt, you could see how broad his arms were that were crossed over his chest, with one hand holding a flute.
Before you could even get a proper view of him, your attention was taken away by a collision with a hurried wedding guest. He apologised profusely before he made his way into the throng of people, leaving you disoriented.
When you tried to look back, he was no longer where he once stood. Surprised, you quickly darted your eyes around the room but it was hard to see from where you were standing.
You made a beeline towards the edge of the room to get a better view. Your gaze swept over the gathering guests— since he was a tall figure he could tower over almost everyone here but despite that, he was nowhere to be found.
Even if you only saw a glimpse of him, you felt a tad bit frustrated that your chance to see him again was now gone.
You decided to step outside to one of the balconies in hopes of getting some clarity. There was the underlying hope that you’d find him from the balcony view.
Although you doubt anyone would ask about your whereabouts, you’d just give them the excuse that you were feeling hot. It was justifiable since the room was starting to feel stuffy.
The cool night air brushed against your skin. Just as you opened the door to the balcony, you caught sight of the man from earlier again and you felt your heart stutter. Even if you were trying to look for him earlier, you weren’t fully prepared to see him again.
He had his back towards the door while leaning over the railing so you couldn’t see his face. He must’ve acknowledged your presence after hearing the door click open.
You stepped further into the balcony and moved a little closer to him but still kept a comfortable distance.
He still retained the same cool and unwavering demeanor as he silently turned to look you up and down briefly before his gaze shifted away at the far distance again.
His chestnut hair was slicked back and his jawline was sharp. However what really struck you the most was the crimson hue of his iris.
It wasn’t welcoming but it was less cold compared to the first time you laid eyes on him. Perhaps it might be because you were both alone, away from the chaos inside.
You cleared your throat before you made your first impression. “So are you lost in your own thoughts or are you deliberately avoiding the crowd,”
He didn’t turn to look at you, still looking afar at the view but he definitely heard you. “I wouldn’t call myself lost,”
His tone of voice matched his stoic presence— monotonous yet there was an underlying richness to it, even if it was just a simple sentence.
“Enjoying the festivities at least?” You said, attempting to break the barrier of his aloofness.
He turned his head to look at you with his face still neutral from any expression. “Would you believe me if I said no?”
“Nah you’re blending in just fine, I wouldn’t have noticed,” you said instinctively. You had to bite your tongue back before you said anything else. You barely even knew him and you already threw a lighthearted sarcastic remark.
Judging by the way he had carried himself so far, you would expect him to be put off by your comment. Much to your surprise, however, you saw a flicker of amusement that didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“Oh, I’m doing just fine blending in?” He mused, you could hear the slight shift in his tone that emphasised his interest in the conversation now. He was starting to be more engaged and it made you feel a tingling sensation in your chest.
“Yeah, I don’t think anyone noticed you’re out here,” You hoped that was the case. It didn’t appear like anyone was actively looking for him back inside and it seemed like he came here alone.
But you didn’t want to make any premature assumptions, so you just had to hope no one would interrupt your conversation.
“So, what brings you out here? I assume the same as me,” he asked.
“I needed some air,” that wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. But you weren’t going to admit that you came out here just to spark something with him, even if he was anything but approachable.
“Out of all the spots in this building for fresh air, it had to be the balcony?” He prodded, a tinge of heed in his tone.
You didn’t expect to be put on the spot like that. You were already stepping out of your comfort zone just by talking to him, but having him ask you an open question like that made your ears heat up in slight embarrassment.
You chewed on your cheek, trying to come up with a plausible answer. Hesitantly you replied, “Uh yeah…higher grounds,”
“No other reason?” He was lightheartedly taunting you now even if it wasn’t his intention.
Either you were a terrible liar and he could sense you weren’t telling him something or he was just stringing you along.
“Nope,” you quickly steered the conversation before he could say anything extemporaneous, “Weddings have a certain charm, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so,” he shrugged before he continued. “But I’m sure most people are here for free food,”
“Well, between you and me…I’m here for the cake,”
“At least one of us here was being honest. The cake does look delicious,”
You continued, eager to keep the conversation going now, “I heard each tier is a different flavour,”
“I heard there’s even a coffee flavoured cake for the coffee lovers out there,”
“Uh huh..so what’s your excuse for lurking out here in the shadows,”
“Why don’t you guess?” He let the sentence hang in the air, like the answer wasn’t already obvious.
Even if he was here to get away from the crowd, there was still the nagging thought that he might’ve come here with someone and they were still looking for him back inside.
“Right, so I’m assuming you came here alone too?” You brought up the question, trying to sound as casual as you could.
“That is the case,” you felt a fraction of relief wash over you after he confirmed that, but you didn’t make it obvious in your body language. “You came here alone as well?”
“Yep. I’m from the bride's side,”
“The bride's side, huh? Well I’m here from the groom’s side,” he paused momentarily before he spoke again. “I guess we really are alone over here,”
“A connoisseur of the corner space…or the balcony,” you said lightheartedly.
“I wouldn’t call myself an expert but it is comforting here,”
It was and his presence made it feel more refreshing. Originally, you weren’t planning on staying any longer than necessary.
This wasn’t your scene at all and you wanted nothing more than to be back in your familiar confined space. But now after talking with this man, you wanted the night to last longer.
You felt the tingling sensation in your chest again, but this time there was a sudden urge to take a risky approach. “Well, if you do decide to go back inside and venture into the madness… I could save you a dance,”
The fluidity of your tone came out smoother than you expected. There was no biting back on your words now and you watched his reaction intently.
“Really now? Save me a dance?” He echoed. His words elevated his amusement as he arched his brow inquisitively. However what really surprised you was when he rose from the railing to stand upright before you.
It dawned on you how tall he truly was. You quickly back peddled. “Unless that’s outside of your element,”
“I’m not much of a dancer,” he confessed sheepishly.
Neither were you, but you didn’t want to put him off. The rest of the conversation felt like it was guided but pure impulse now.
“Well no one had noticed us before when we were inside, so I don’t think anyone would notice us when we’re dancing,”
“And do you usually offer men to dance with you,” he asked. The question was unexpected. You weren’t usually this bold when it came to talking to men, let alone inviting them to dance.
You were more reserved and kept to yourself but tonight you really surprised yourself with your uncharacteristic forwardness. Yet, he was unaware of this side of you and probably assumed you were just here for a good time.
“Not always but since we’re both alone we might as well make the most of the night,” you answered, though you weren’t going to admit that you wanted more than just a dance.
“Fair point, one dance couldn’t hurt,” It was hard to tell where the rest of the night would take you, but at least now you weren’t alone.
And you hoped that he would let you stick around a little longer. He stepped closer to you and held out his hand.
“I still haven't caught your name yet,” you said as you gently took his waiting hand. His large fingers curled around yours in a soft grip.
“Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. And yours?”
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This is actually a snippet of one of my ao3 exclusive series
I also made a c.ai bot inspired by this if you’re interested
Btw, I will be interacting with your fics and reblogging from my second account @lmaoyouwhore (don’t pree the blog too hard, it’s still under construction lol)
190 notes · View notes
nicoline1998enilocin · 2 months
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Warmth
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PAIRING | Sugar Daddy!Tony Stark x Sugar Baby!Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT | 1.1K
SUMMARY | You've been studying for your upcoming exam all day, and you're starting to get a little cold. However, the perfect way to warm up is by touching Tony's warm body, seeing how he's always running warm through the arc reactor. Of course, he's happy to share his warmth with you; he doesn't want you to feel cold.
RATING | General (G)
WARNINGS/TAGS | Sugar Daddy/-Baby arrangement, mutual pining.
A/N | This fic is inspired by this headcanon written by @fotibrit! As soon as I read it, I knew this would fit perfectly inside my sugar daddy!Tony AU! I love their dynamic, and I can't wait to hear what you all think about it. This is proofread by my amazing friend @ccbsrmsf1, for which I cannot begin to thank you enough! 💙
EVENTS Masterlist | @anyfandomfluffbingo | Clothes sharing Masterlist | @fandombingo | Tony Stark Masterlist | @fandom-free-bingo | "Are you feeling better now?" Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | "I can do this all day."
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Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1
Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist
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You're in the middle of studying for your exams, making long hours for a difficult one coming up. Going through medical school has always been a dream of yours, and thanks to Tony, that is becoming a reality, but that doesn't mean you don't have to work for it. He has kindly offered to study at Stark Tower so you can use plenty of empty offices and conference rooms.
This also means you're closer to him, and you can't stop yourself from seeing him whenever he's in the building. You've been studying for the past six hours, eating lunch, and drinking a lot of coffee in between, and you're starting to feel cold and restless - perfect timing to go and pay a visit to Tony.
"Jarvis, can you tell me where Tony is?" you ask the AI he has installed in the building, who kindly lets you know he is working in his lab. Your stuff is gathered quickly, and just before you can zip your bag closed, you let out a big yawn and a cold shiver runs down your spine. The weather outside looked promising, but jeans and a blouse weren't enough to keep you warm today.
As soon as your bag hangs on your shoulder, you're out the door, your feet carrying you to Tony on instinct. The elevator ride is way too long, and you're rubbing your hands on your arms to keep yourself warm, but to no avail. You feel warmth spreading through your body when you walk into his lab and see Tony hunched over in his MIT hoodie, faded jeans, and messy hair.
"Are you going home already, Sugar?" Tony asks in his deep voice, giving you goosebumps as the sound goes through your body.
"Not yet; I figured I'd swing by your lab to see how you're doing. And I was hoping to steal a bit of your warmth, too," you tell him with a small smile, unable to stop thinking how handsome he looks in his outfit. It shows off his natural handsomeness, and you can't help but stare a little too long when he turns to you.
"How can I say no when you ask me like that? C'mere Sugar," Tony says as he opens his arms invitingly. You drop your bag before stepping into his hold, your body pressing tightly against his as your face nuzzles into his neck. With a deep sigh, you let your hands wander to where they're under his hoodie, your ice-cold hands slowly warming up on the warm muscles of his lower back.
"You're freezing!" he says before he lets go, his hands carefully wrapping around your wrists to guide your hands to his chest - or, more specifically, to his arc reactor. It's where he gets the hottest and your favorite place to rest your hands when you're feeling cold. If there's one thing you both quickly learned, it is that where you usually are feeling chilly, Tony is always hot, making him your perfect personal heater.
A soft hum leaves your throat as you can feel the warmth of his body seeping into your cold hands, slowly ensuring they don't ache from the freezing state they were in before you came to him.
"Are you feeling better now?" Tony asks softly and gently, and you hum in response. If it were up to him, he would let you warm your hands on his body forever, never wanting to let you go again. Little does he know you feel the same way, but you're both too stubborn to admit it to one another.
"Yeah, I can do this all day if you'd let me," you tell him in response, another soft sigh leaving your chest when your hands aren't cold anymore. Though that issue has been fixed, Tony can tell you're still feeling cold, and without hesitation, he takes off his hoodie, exposing his muscular chest and abdomen to you, making you do a double take at the appearing flesh.
"Here, you can wear this, Sugar," he tells you without leaving room for discussion. You allow him to pull it over your head, the sleeves longer than your arms, making you giggle. The scent of Tony envelops you completely, and you flail your arms like a bird to show off just how long the sleeves are, and the sound of Tony's laughter makes yet another flood of warmth spread throughout your body.
"It looks way better on you than it does me, Sugar; I think you should keep it," Tony says, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your mouth and back. He steps closer to you, his index finger lifting your chin slightly to look right into your eyes as he closes the gap between you two.
His mouth descends on yours in a sweet, loving, gentle kiss that takes your breath away yet makes you feel so full of love. Your kisses are usually frantic and passionate when you sleep together, but this kiss is the opposite. Unrushed and soft; filled promises that neither of you is willing to give in to yet. It's perfection in a kiss.
The second his lips leave yours, it feels like you're deflating like a balloon, missing the feelings of his warm mouth on yours already. Despite this, a small smile tugs on the corners of your mouth as you bite your bottom lip, feeling like a teenager who just shared their first kiss with the boy she's been crushing on for a long time. And deep inside, that's exactly what the dynamic between you is, just in your later years.
"What was that for?" you ask Tony, who chuckles at your question.
"I felt like kissing you because you look adorable in my hoodie. And I wanted to surprise you, which, by the looks of it, worked pretty well," Tony tells you, and you nod.
"Now I have to go because I promised to go for dinner with my friends. But thank you for the hoodie. I'll be using it to keep me warm from now on," you tell him as you step back, grab your bag, and walk out of his lab with a wave.
All he can muster is a small wave back as he stands there shirtless and with a heart filled with love. He wants to give you all the happiness in the world and more, and if that means letting you warm your cold hands on his body and giving you his hoodies, he's more than okay with doing that for the rest of his life, even if that means never getting to tell you how he feels. Your dynamic is perfect for both of you, and he doesn't want to ruin it by doing something stupid.
Though the one thing he wants more than anything in this world is that you will be his one day. His girlfriend, his fiancée, his wife, his everything. That's what would make him the happiest man on earth.
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s0ulsniper · 8 months
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getting caught making out || avengers + loki
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warnings: fem!reader, cursing, suggestive/spicy but never any actual smut, not really proofread
synopsis: making out with the avengers (separate) and getting caught, how they would react.
pairings: avengers (separate) x AFAB!reader
a/n: it's not just the og six by the way, gotta little carried away, also let's pretend there was a point peter lived with the rest of the avengers.
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NATASHA ROMANOFF | n.r.
it was risky, up against the wall in one of the many training rooms. Natasha had been sparring with you, teaching each other tricks also. one thing led to another and nat was pushed up against you, hands roaming your body.
she knows very well how to control herself, but when it came to you she struggled. the frustration with it also didn't help any bit.
you felt her knee between your legs and her hand beside your head, it all made your brain go straight to mush. you didn't care about being caught or the consequences. all you cared about was making out with your girlfriend.
her other hand suddenly comes up to grip at your waist and push your hips even closer to hers even though it felt impossible.
the door of the training room creaks open to reveal an unamused Steve.
he apologizes profusely but scolds you guys for it being the 3rd time this week.
nat just smirks, still holding you in her arms.
"hey, we actually finished training this time. only thing wrong with this is-... well nothing." she laughs and Steve has nothing to say
he grabs his gym bag and walks off, annoyed as if he just found his kid doing something wrong.
when he finally left Natasha turned to you.
"now where were we?"
BUCKY BARNES | b.b.
unlike usual, you guys found a private spot to make out, figuring you learned your lesson on oblivious people catching you. the spot being his room in the tower, just a couple doors down from yours, peter's and wanda's.
you were on straddling him while he rested against the headboard, he couldn't get enough. especially after not seeing you for two days while you were out with tony, bruce and rhodey to some government complaint he could care less about.
he was pretty sure he heard something about the suits and concerning things made in the lab by you and Bruce. obviously they wanted to know about it because they wanted to be greedy and take from it.
they weren't successful at all, and you guys decided to celebrate.
it was already cold in the tower but there was a noticeable change in the temperature when bucky was close, human heater was one of his many nicknames.
but there was just something about the contrast of his body and his cold arm gripping at your hips.
"missed you so much..." he mumbles into your lips.
before you could respond there's a short knock on the door before it cracks open.
both of your heads whip to the side to see who's interrupted, peter standing in the doorway.
"oh- uh sorry Mrs. y/l/n and Mr bucky" he stutters out nervously before slamming the door shut, pattering footsteps heard running down the hall.
you burst into a fit of laughter and slump against bucky, your head falling to the crook of his neck.
"not one bit of privacy..." he complains, throwing his arms over your body and flipping you over.
"anyways..." he smirks.
TONY STARK | t.s.
even though you were cautious of it, he could care less. pushing you up against a counter in the lab. it was late, and Bruce was said to have gone to bed and continue in the morning, tony took it as a chance after not getting any good alone time with you in centuries it felt like.
"tony-... tony this is risky. what if Bruce comes back?"
he grumbles while he kisses down your neck, hand at either sides of your hips securing you against the counter.
"he won't, babe... plus the doors are locked."
you roll your eyes as if there weren't glass walls everywhere.
even though you were so against it, you couldn't help but fold at the way he kissed you so passionately.
you hear a sigh behind you and Tony look up.
"had to get my phone." you hear Bruce mumble awkwardly before walking away.
you hide your face in embarrassment and tony laughs.
"guess I should listen to you more often, huh?"
BRUCE BANNER | b.b.
it was a rare occurrence, but bruce was stressed beyond belief so you wanted to help him unwind.
you both lay in bed at the compound, lights off and a dimly lit tv playing a movie you both agreed on.
except it doesn't matter what the movie was, because you certainly weren't paying attention at all.
another thing you weren't paying attention to was the door opening and an unamused bucky in the doorway.
"hey lovebirds, tony told me to tell you guys that we've got a mission in two days and take the time to relax... have fun." he smirks and walks out.
you turn to Bruce and see him turned crimson with his face in his hands.
"well at least we have time to relax." you shrug.
"that doesn't change the fact of how embarrassing that is..." Bruce mutters. "I'm seen to be the professional one 24/7."
"not anymore!" you laugh and he couldn't help but smile.
STEVE ROGERS | s.r.
it was obvious eventually you two would be caught considering you were pushed into a small closet for 7 minutes in heaven.
you had to convince him to relax a little, and when he did... oh boy.
there wasn't much in the closet, a couple random jackets, supposedly Tony's because he apparently 'doesn't have enough room in his closet'... his closet is as big as your bedroom. you laugh at the thought, though.
"can't believe you convinced me into this..." he mutters between kisses, hands cupping your cheeks.
"guess I'm just that convincing..." you smile into his lips.
you feel the distance close between your hips at his attempt for friction, and his other hand pulling you against him even harder.
the closet door flies open and tony smirks at the sight, Steve's hair messed up and you pushed against the wall.
"not so innocent, huh Rogers?" he jokes, walking away for the next round.
"were continuing this later..." he whispers, his lips brushing your ear.
LOKI LAUFEYSON | l.l.
he wasn't ashamed for anyone to see, nor did he care. you were in a dressing room while shopping at the mall and he couldn't help but kiss your perfect face.
"you're so gorgeous, darling." he smiles at you, his hands moving up and down your waist and hips.
you loved how he always showed you affection, but he really went over the top at inconvenient times.
you turned to the mirror to observe the outfit you had picked and you loved it... so did loki.
you saw him lean down in the mirror to kiss your head, then down to your neck, right at your sweet spot.
" 'mon loki... we're in public."
he presses against you, feeling him smirk into your neck.
"were secluded in public, actually. darling you have nothing to worry about-"
knocks a heard from the locked door.
"um- could you guys please hurry up? every room is taken." a worker calls.
"I stand corrected." he laughs.
PETER PARKER | p.p.
aunt may had been out for the day running errands and peter called you over to watch a movie and hangout.
you both were laying on the couch, him on top of you, his head near your collarbone comfortably, a blanket messily dropped over the two of you.
he leaned in to kiss you, but came back for more and it led to him pressed against you and kissing your neck.
"you're so pretty..." he compliments and you pull him up to kiss you, feeling him bite on your bottom lip for access.
you kiss down to his neck, his bodyweight falling limp between your legs from the pleasure.
you hear a knock on the door and ned practically screaming to let him in.
he groans and gets up fully off you.
"why does this always happen..." he complains, kissing you once more on the temple before going to answer the door.
THOR ODINSON | t.o.
it was your birthday on asgard and thor obviously had to tell the entire civilization and invite everyone to your palace.
you found yourself being held by him, kissing passionately in the empty guest room.
you two were supposed to be greeting the guests and thanking them for coming but instead he wanted to truly show you how much he loves you.
"I am so grateful you are my queen, y/n." he praises.
his large hands find the sides of your neck and face to somehow pull you closer.
"thor we should really be out saying hello to everyone..." you insist.
"m'lady, I think everyone is too drunk to notice." he smiles, his accent soothing you. "and it is our kingdom after all, I'm sure they wouldn't mind."
you feel the door move the air around you and loki complaining.
"could you guys come downstairs, please. when you aren't around, guess who's put in charge?" he pinches the bridge of his nose. "can I just tell them all to leave, lady y/n?"
"sure, loki go ahead."
"thank you."
he sighs in relief and closes the door.
thor pauses for a moment before bringing you back to kiss him, his hand at your throat.
CLINT BARTON | c.b.
he has you pressed against the door just in case anyone had tried to walk in; his hand moving from your waist to lock the door, lips never leaving yours.
there was no plan to it, the moment you walked in his room he couldn't keep his hands off you.
with wanda just had moved in, it had been very... hectic.
everyone was ecstatic and welcoming, trying to help left and right. it left no room except for at night for just the two of you.
he took the little time to his advantage, even if there would be interruptions, he didn't care and neither did you. everyone around the compound is aware of your relationship and has definitely seen pda before, so what's it if someone walks in?
a sound of yelling and laughing was heard getting progressively closer to the end of the hallway, where Clint's room was.
"OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE DOOR!" you heard someone scream, getting closer.
clint rolls his eyes and pulls you away from the door, a hand pulling you against him and the other opening the door.
in flies peter and Wanda, roughly shutting and locking the door behind them laughing uncontrollably.
"what did you guys do?" you quirk a brow at them.
they both look at you like kids in trouble, ignoring the pounding in the door.
"well..." Wanda starts.
"just cut to it." clint rolls his eyes.
"mr.stark, bruce and I were in the lab giving Wanda a tour and we might've knocked over a special beaker thingy..." he mumbles. "we didn't mean to! we swear..."
the pounding in the door never stops, annoying both you and Clint.
"CUT IT OUT ASSWIPES, THAT'S ANNOYING AS HELL!" you angrily yell at the door, halting the pounding.
"...sorry..." you hear Bruce mumble even though it definitely wasn't him doing it.
your demeanor suddenly changes as you talk to Wanda and peter, concerning the three of them.
"anyways, just go say sorry. if they give you anymore shit just come get me." you wink.
"and me." clint adds.
they thank you guys profoundly before walking out to go sulk to tony and Bruce.
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spider-man-199999 · 10 months
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Pacifier
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pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader;
word count: 5K
warnings: drinking; mentions of sex ; Peter is younger than the reader, but still 18. Reader is around 20. Peter is trying to pin reader even though he is younger.
summary: In this one you’re hired as Morgan’s babysitter (and low-key underpaid Stark!assistant). Looking after a little girl isn’t too hard, but looking after her “big bother” as well, definitely is.
an: I might make a part 2; I had so much fun writing this!
part2!
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A loud crash from outside the room interrupted the story you were reading to Morgan. She didn't seem bothered, probably used to this type of sounds around the Stark tower, but you definitely weren't. Afternoon naps weren't her favourite and she was almost asleep when someone decided to be so loud outside and interrupt. You sighed and got up. 
"I'll be back in a second." you told the little girl as you paced towards the door.
The crashing sounds were becoming more frequent, like someone was hitting walls, falling over on the floor, knocking things out. You didn't really know what to expect on the other side.
"Hey, asshole, I'm trying to put Morgan to sleep here." you said as you opened. 
You saw a figure fall over on the floor and start rolling immediately after that. A red and blue suit. There was something on his face, it looked like an octopus but not quite and it seemed like it was trying to eat his head. You were relatively new to all of this Avengers thing, you were hired a while ago but Tony kept you at a distance, however, you definitely knew an alien when you saw one.
"Actually, nevermind." you corrected yourself and walked back in Morgan's room, closing the door shut.
That's how you met Spider-man. 
"I could really use a hand here!" he said between pants and grunts, fighting the thing. 
You pressed your forehead against the door, thinking about it for a second. Morgan was fast asleep the second you walked away from her, which made the situation a little easier. 
"I don't get paid enough for this shit." you whispered to yourself and opened the door again, walking out into the hallway. 
You looked around, trying to find something that would be useful. Spider-man was still rolling around on the floor, pulling at that thing that was making weird squeaky sounds and spreading something like saliva everywhere. The closest thing to a weapon there was a vase with the length of your forearm that got knocked over in the process. You grabbed it and walked over to the rolling man on the floor. 
"Stay still." you told him.
He lay on his back, still pulling the thing away from his head as you slammed the vase into it, breaking it. The alien squealed in pain and for a second stopped trying to bite off Spider-man's head. He took advantage of that and threw it to the foor, shooting a web over it after that. He finally relaxed as the fight for his life was over, looking over at you. 
"Thanks." he muttered
"Yeah um, no problem I guess?"
----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hey, can you run to the lab, I forgot a black file folder there and I need it for my meeting that's in like 5 minutes." Tony said while checking his watch.  
You were playing with Morgan and her dolls in the living room when he walked in. He seemed in a hurry, fixing his tie. You looked around the room after he spoke, it was just the three of you.
"Me?"
"No, Morgan. Of course it's you, I'll play with her while you're gone. And skim over the papers, there should be 10 pages inside. You have 3 minutes."
You got up and moved as quickly as you could. On most days you were losing the idea of the whole babysitting thing. Often Tony would make you do things like you were his assistant, schedule meetings, arrange travels, send you off buying things. You didn't mind doing that, especially since he was paying you and you got to live rent free in the Stark tower with his family. You were free to attend your university classes, that was part of your contract, but besides that you didn't get any other off hours. A contract that Tony made you rewrite yourself after you got accepted into ESU to fit both of your needs legally. You couldn't really complain though. The job came with more perks than anyone could ever want. Plus, you got to know all of the Avengers and people that talked to you in class were always excited to talk to you because of that. 
You read through the pages in the folder on your way back to the living room. All 10 of them were there and they were about some new materials and research for the Spider-man suit Tony had been making. 
Oh, Spider-man.
After your first encounter with him, things got kind of awkward whenever he came by. He was a nice kid, a little nerdy, but would never pass up an opportunity to flirt with you. It's not like you hated the attention but your life was already too busy to think about boys. 
"Heyyyyyy" you heard when you walked into the living room, looking up to see Peter smile. He was blushing while he looked at you. 
You closed the folder and handed it to Tony while you held the awkwards eye contact with the younger boy. 
"You should review the third page, it's not clarified where the electrum that you're using came from. If it's a naturally occurring alloy or a man-made one. The origin may not be important when you're actually using it, but for the lawyers it is."
"Oh, right, thanks kid." Tony said, taking out a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket so he could write down the missing information. 
You walked over to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a bottle of water. Peter tailed after you like a puppy. 
"Can you pass me a bottle as well?" 
You grabbed one and tossed it in his direction. The two of you took a sip at the same time. 
"So how was school?" you asked him
"Fine, the usual. We had a quiz in physics, I think I did well. How was uni?"
You shrugged at his question, looking over at Morgan. You could see her sitting on the floor and watching something on the TV through the door. Pepper was about to be home any minute now, which meant you were off duty for the night. 
"Shouldn't you be joining the meeting?"
"No, mr Stark thinks the only thing I'll be good at is distract people there."
"He has a point."
"You didn't answer my question."
"I had to skip this week. Tony flew over to Germany with Pepper, I had to run things around here."
"There goes being a responsible student."
You rolled your eyes at him. University classes were nothing like school, you could afford missing them as long as you could catch up on the material on your own after that. Peter was so actively trying to close the gap between the two of you that it was getting annoying. 
"It's fine, next week The Vacation starts. I'll be free for 14 whole days to knock myself out with classes."
"The vacation?" Peter asked, following your steps when you went down the hall, headed to your room.
The Vacation was a tradition that you imposed on the Stark family as "a good habit to establish closeness between them and trust in you". It was an event that occurred for an entirety of two weeks every year since you started working for them. It was the second time they were going to do it and you were more than thrilled that your plan worked. The whole point of it was to bring the family closer together. You would pick the destination, make reservations in a very expensive hotel on a far off island and send all of the Starks there to bond. There were few rules, mostly ideas that you collectively brainstormed. They were not allowed to use phones, the only exceptions that could be made were if 1) the world was ending; 2) aliens were invading earth; 3) someone died. And in those cases, you had to call the hotel and make the staff inform Tony. The only downside was that you didn't get to go. But that wasn't all bad, you had 2 weeks to go to all the college parties your heart desired and do all the things you usually didn't have time to. 
"Yeah, we get two weeks off."
"We?"
"The Starks, I meant. They are the ones who get to go on a trip and relax for 14 days while we keep things running around here."
"Does not sound like something Mr. Stark would do."
"You're right, he hated it at first but after he came back it was... He was very different."
The two of you had reached your bedroom at that point, standing in front of the door.
"So you'll be gone for two weeks?"
"Unfortunately, no, but I already have plans."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Wait what do you mean he's staying here?" you asked, looking around the table. 
Tony said he wanted a big dinner before they left for Santorini, and that somehow translated to your regular once a month "family" dinners with Peter. You looked over at the flustered boy, throwing mental daggers at him while Tony spoke. 
"I took a chance last year, but no I don't really like the idea of you being alone here for an entire two weeks."
"Is this because I did something to lose your trust or do you just think I'm defenseless?"
"I don't think you're ENTIRELY defenseless. But it does feel more comfortable to have someone with, say, super strength around, just in case."
"In case of what? Me wanting to rearrange the entire house? Just a reminder that if I didn't help him three months ago, his head would be in some octopus' belly right now."
"You're exaggerating that!" Peter whined, embarrassed by the reference.
"Look, kid, I know you well enough to understand how irritating this must be for you, and a year ago I probably didn't care enough if you died while we were gone-"
"TONY!" Pepper tried to cut him off.
"-but as I was about to say, now I do. That's my decision and it's final."
You really wanted to continue the argument, to try and persuade him into changing his mind. But you didn't. His words touched you and you could really see where he was coming from. But Peter... out of all the Avengers out there, all of the 8 thousand mutants in New York, he had to choose Spider-man.
"I promise you won't even know I'm here!" Peter said, in a desperate attempt to appease you. 
"Peter, it's alright." 
Your reaction had taken everyone a back, they expected you to fight back more fiercely than this. 
"What?" you asked when you noticed everyone's stare. "Did you really expect me to throw a tantrum over this? Wow, maybe I should come with you after all, apparently you people don't know me at all."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The first couple of days were actually going according to your plans. You wanted to go to some parties and you were doing just that. You stumbled out of the elevator, giggling to yourself. A spider web shot your hand to the wall. Normal you would immediately start asking what the fuck was happening, but drunk you just looked at the web and started laughing her ass off. 
"Oh my god I'm so sorry!" Peter ran towards you, pulling at the web on your hand. You kept on laughing. He actually thought you were someone who was trying to break in.
"I'm lucky you shoot webs and not bullets!"
"Well, webs aren't the only thing I can shoot." he muttered under his breath. 
"Ew, Pete, nasty." you giggled, placing your hands on his shoulders. "I'm so glad you have super-strength. I can't walk."
"What?"
"Take me to my bedroom, please." you laughed, your knees feeling wobbly because of the alcohol. He felt you start to relax and wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you tightly. 
"Damn, so Mr. Stark was right, you needed someone around to take care of you." He said, a blushing mess while he picked you up like a bride and started walking towards your room. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your head rested on his shoulder. 
"Pffff, no, I'm the caretaker!! I'm taking care of you too right now!" you protested. 
"Sure you are." he laughed, loving that side of you. He wished your normal conversations could be this effortless and fun. Peter hated the front you were always putting on in front of everybody, especially him. He opened the door to your room, walking in and placing you down on the bed. He looked at you laying on the bed, wondering if he should take advantage of your bubbliness or not. 
Your hands moved down to your jeans, you were drunk, but there was no way in hell you were going to sleep in your clothes. You undid them and started pulling them down your legs. 
"Wow, wow, wow, though we were at least going on a date before this." you heard Peter say, noticing him in the room just now. 
You gasped in shock, starting to laugh after that. He turned his back not to look while you undressed, wondering if he should just leave or not. 
"Hey, I was meaning to ask..."
"Shhhhh, you talk way more than you usually do in my dreams, I'm trying to sleep."
"In your dreams?" he asked, turning his head so fast he almost snapped his neck. You were laying down in your underwear, back turned to him. 
"Yeah, like now, you're almost always in my dreams, but we never talk."
"What do we do then?"
You rolled over on your back, head turning towards him to look in his eyes. Even in the pitch darkness he could feel your eyes burning the skin on his face and it made him blush even more. 
"You know what we do, you're always there!" you said, annoyance in your tone. 
That's when he knew he had to draw the line and walk out of the room, it felt wrong to take advantage of your state and he knew you would kill him the next day if you remembered anything. 
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Peter Parker was a lucky bastard. Not only did he get to be alone in the same house as his crush for two whole weeks, but somehow he even managed to convince her to go to Flash's party with him. Yes, you were very displeased with that fact, tried everything in your power to convince him it was a bad idea but he didn't listen. 
"How is this not embarrassing for the both of us?" you asked on the way there. 
"Why would it be embarrassing?"
"For starters, you're going to a party with your babysitter. And I'm a college student attending a highschool party... What's next? You blackmail me into being your date to prom?"
"You're not my babysitter, I'm yours."
"No you're not."
"How am I not? Mr. Stark made me stay over in his house so you wouldn't be alone! I'm the babysitter!"
"Peter you're like 15, you can't be the babysitter when you're the actual baby!"
"I'm 18."
"Wait you are? Why am I driving then?"
Despite the hard time you were giving him almost the entire time, he convinced you. And now he got to watch you while you chatted with his best friend, holding a cup of punch. 
"How do you even know a girl like that, Penis Parker?" Flash asked him, both of them standing side by side while observing you.
"Well, you know, the Stark internship and all."
"Honestly, I thought she was imaginary. She's not a paid actress, right?"
"Yeah, well no, if I paid her she'd have to be nice to me."
You glanced over to the two of them, smiling lightly when you caught them staring. You've been getting stares the whole night, and it really did feel like you were back in high school. The two boys got flustered when you caught them, turning their heads in opposite directions. You shook your head.
"It was lovely talking to you, Ned. But I have a fanclub to tend to, see you around." you said, placing your hand on Ned's shoulder as a goodbye gesture and walked off to Peter and Flash. 
"Ah, if it isn't my favourite senior!" you said with a giggle, standing next to Peter. The alcohol seemed to be kicking in because you were unexpectedly nice to him. 
"I'm Flash, the host." Flash said and reached out a hand to you. 
You looked at him. You didn't know too much about Flash, only that he didn't like Peter and was giving him a hard time. That was one of the reasons why you agreed to this, to help the poor boy out, stop the bullying for a little while. You blinked a few times, not taking his hand.
"Y\n." you said simply, turning to Peter again. You placed your free hand on his shoulder, scooting over to him so you could get on your tip-toes and whisper into his ear. "So that's the mighty Flash guy? Looks like a loser to me." 
Peter laughed softly at your words, placing a hand on your waist to help you keep your balance. 
"So, how do you like the party guys?" Flash tried to bounce back.
The two of you looked at him. He stared back at you, noticing Peter's hand on your waist that you didn't seem to mind at all. Flash was really feeling like the loser tonight. The guy he constantly bullied came to his party with a college girl. And not just any college girl, one that worked for Stark Industries, and was drop-dead gorgeous on top of it all. And she had Peter Parker's arm wrapped around her.
"For a high school party... it's okay." you said, resting your head on Peter's shoulder. 
"Well I throw the best parties! Peter wouldn't know, he's rarely invited."
"Peter's seen way better parties than this one, I take him to the ones we throw on campus all the time, right Pete?" You lied. You were lying to defend Peter and make him look cooler. 
He nodded to your words. You could practically see Flash's face turn red as he was showed up, once again.
"Whatever." He muttered and walked away.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The more time you spent with Peter, the harder it got to dislike him. It's not like you really disliked him to begin with, but it annoyed you how absurdly confident he was in the Spider-man suit. He tried flirting as Peter Parker as well, sure, but nothing could compare to Spider-man. And for some reason you hated the fact that he was younger than you. There was nothing morally wrong with liking him, he was 18 and you were just two years older, in perspective this would not matter at all once he got in college, which was about to happen in a few months anyway. Something about the thought of having a high school boyfriend while you were halfway done with your degree really made you cringe. 
But you had to give him credit for trying so hard. The boy just wouldn't give up, no matter how brutal you were every time he tried something. This whole internal conflict of yours was tearing you apart, and it got worse since he moved in for the two weeks. 
"Okay listen." you started as you parked your car in the campus parking lot. "Do not go disappearing on me. And don't drink, not even a sip, you're too young for that. If the police come, run."
"And I thought you were going to have a positive influence on me."
"We're doing this because of you, remember? You were the one who wanted to make Flash shut up by posting a picture from an actual frat party."
"You were the one who lied about that."
"Well, I'm sorry that I was trying to help." 
You got out of the car and locked it after Peter followed. You knew in your heart that this was a very, very bad idea. You were just praying that you wouldn't get drunk enough to do something you'd regret and that he wouldn't get drunk at all. Someone had to drive the two of you back home and it definitely wasn't going to be you. You handed him the car keys before you started walking to the frat house. He put them in his jean pocket, following you like he usually did. Frat parties were nothing like the one Flash threw a few days ago, things here always got out of control. People were taking body shots, smoking, using drugs, making out. The whole "please don't break anything, it's my parents' house" vibe was not there. You knew it, Peter definitely knew it as well. 
"Let's get the pictures and be done with this." you told him over the loud music. 
He nodded, unsure if he actually wanted to stay or leave. He was not a party guy, but he didn't completely hate the experience. You grabbed yourself a drink, greeting a few people you knew from classes. 
"I cannot believe this!" Someone shouted behind you, making you and Peter both turn in sync. It was Lidia, a girl you had a group project with a few weeks back. You texted here and there but you could never make it to places she invited you. 
"Oh hey" you said, hugging the strawberry blonde and smiling. 
"How did you manage to get out of that corporate job you have? And who is this eye candy?" you smiled at Peter, offering her hand to introduce herself. 
"That's Peter Parker, he's my...." you stopped, looking over at him. You started the sentence with the wrong words but it was too late to switch it up.
"Boyfriend." He just had to jump at the opportunity, didn't he?
"He definitely wishes he was." you snapped back at him, looking over at Lidia again. "He's an intern."
"Come on babe, you don't have to be shy about it." 
He was pushing his limits here and enjoying it, smiling at how embarrassed and flustered you'd get trying to deny it. It really made it seem like you were just uncomfortable labeling something you really did have with him and he was taking initiative. 
"Such a shame, if I had locked up a snack like that I would be bragging to the whole world!" Linda said, laughing at your reaction together with Peter. She pulled him closer, whispering in his ear. "I'm not surprised by her act, she doesn't like sharing anything about herself, you have a tough nut to crack."
Lidia left the two of you with an encouraging smile, like you really had something to do with him.
"Traitor." you told him, drinking the entire content of your cup in one breath.
"Wow, take it easy, I'm not carrying you around like last time."
"I'm so mad at you! Why did you say that?"
"Why not? It's not like she'll see me ever again, tell her we broke up next time she asks."
"It was straight up unnecessary!"
He put his hands on your shoulders, lowering himself down on your eye level. 
"You're making a scene right now. Relax, I did it so girls wouldn't flirt with me."
You gave him the death glare that he was so used to seeing.
"Like anyone would flirt with you!"
"Yes, your friend did, the second she saw me."
He was right, she did start her introduction with a flirt, which annoyed you slightly, but it wasn't something you wouldn't get over. 
"Don't try anything with me." you told him. You knew how you got when you were drunk and you'd feel bad if he took advantage of that.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Pete?" you knocked on a bedroom door upstairs. No answer. 
You got absolutely hammered after your argument with Peter. He spent the night running after you like a bodyguard because you would wander off somewhere without even saying a word. You did it again, after he told you to stay put so he could go to the bathroom. He said he'd be back in 5 minutes. He was back in 3, but you were gone. Since you had no perception of time while you were drunk, you thought he was gone for more than half an hour and started looking for him. So, the two of you were basically looking for each other at a frat party. You went upstairs, walking in on two or three couples making out or even having sex while looking for him. He, on the other hand, was searching downstairs. He found Lidia and asked her for help, to which she agreed. 
After not having any luck upstairs, you headed straight out of the house before any of them could catch a glimpse of you. Peter tried calling but your phone, along with the car keys, were in his pocket. 
"I'm really starting to get freaked out here." He told Linda as they walked up the stairs together. 
"Look, if we find her here, I'm sorry. If we don't, I'll start to worry as well."
They didn't find you in any of the frat bedrooms which was both good and bad news at the same time. 
"Is there any chance she could have gone home?"
"No, I'm the one driving back. Unless she took a cab, but I doubt that, her phone is here as well."
They walked out of the house, Peter sat on the stairs and pulled at his hair nervously. How did you manage to disappear into thin air in 3 minutes? He was the one supposed to look after you. Lidia sat down next to him, placing her hand on his back and running it up and down for comfort. She leaned closer to him, her body pressing to the side of his. Peter turned his head to look at her but they were interrupted by a familiar fit of laughter. Peter stood up, looking in the direction of the sound when he saw you down the street. One of your arms was holding onto a lampost while you were swinging around it in circles and laughing. 
"Thank god." he said in relief, offering a hand to Lidia. "I present to you, drunk Y\N. One of the funniest people you'll ever meet."
The two of them paced towards you.
"PETEY!" you said, letting go of the lamp. You were dizzy from the spinning and the alcohol but made a few wobbly steps in his direction, so he could catch you just before you fell. You looked up to him and cupped his cheeks with your palms, squishing his face. 
''Here's my little, almost minor wanna-be-boyfriend!" you giggled. 
He turned you around, pressing your back against his chest and wrapped his arms around you so you could face Lidia. She was staring at you in disbelief. 
"My friend! The only one I have. Pete, look, my friend!" you turned your head to Peter and pointed at Lidia. He laughed at you, kissing the top of your head. Peter couldn't help but fall in love with you even harder when you were acting like a toddler that needed attention. 
"You weren't wrong, this is funny." Lidia said after the initial shock was over. 
"Okay, missy, we should probably go home now."
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Because you'll want to kiss!"
"I mean, I always want to kiss you, I don't see your point."
"But there are no people at home!"
"And?"
"There won't be a reason not to kiss!"
"So you're saying what's stopping you from kissing me here are the people?"
"Yes."
"And if there weren't any people around, you would kiss me?"
"No! You would kiss me!"
"I want to kiss you now as well?" Peter and Lidia laughed, making you puzzled. 
"No, you got it wrong!"
"How did I get it wrong?"
"We can't go home because we will kiss."
"Now you're making me want to go home even more."
You thought about it for a second, confused. You looked up at Peter and then at Lidia who were dying from laughter at that point. It got you even more confused than before. 
"Okay, Lidia, it was lovely meeting you, but I need to get her to bed." Peter said after they calmed down. 
"We can't go home!"
"If I promise not to kiss you, can we go home?"
"I guess."
Peter was holding you the whole time but let you go so you could hug your friend goodbye. He didn't want to let go, it was the only time you would ever let him touch you without getting angry at him and he wanted it to last longer, so when you turned to him again, his arm was wrapped around your shoulders as he escorted you to the car.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
You were awfully silent the whole ride back. 
"Are you still worried about me kissing you?" He asked after the two of you got inside.
"No." 
"Then why are you so quiet?" he asked, sitting down on the couch. You sat down next to him, staring at him. He turned his head to look at you, a bit weirded out from your act.
"You're starting to freak me out here."
"Sorry." you mumbled, looking down at your lap now.
You turned your head to look back at him, then down your lap again, and repeated the whole process a few times like a robot that was experiencing a glitch. Peter looked at you with the side of his eyes because he was checking the replies to his instagram stories from the frat party. He turned his head fully towards you, his eyebrows furrowed. Before he could say anything, you leaned in and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. Your lips crashed together and you gave him the softest, sweetest kiss in his life. He dropped his phone on the floor but he couldn't care less about that right now, his crush was kissing him. His hands grabbed your waist while yours were on his cheeks, your lips dancing together. He tried to pull away because he was uncertain of how much you really wanted this but your teeth dug into his bottom lip and pulled him back in again. 
"Pete" you said softly after the kiss, both of your foreheads pressed against each other's as your hot heavy breaths mixed together.
"Yeah?"
"I wanna do the thing we do in my dreams."
806 notes · View notes
dream0fschism · 1 year
Note
are your nsfw requests still open? if they are could you do one with könig and medic!reader? the rest is up to you
god i’m such a konig slut
i'm back, my darlings!
PAIRING: König x f!reader
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“I’m getting tired of seeing your hooded face, König.”
He never spoke much, a thing not uncommon for men in his field of work. Many preferred the comfortable air that the silence brought, enjoyed how it was such a stark contrast to the sounds of gunfire, explosions, screaming. It made your dingy, makeshift clinic a refreshing stop for most.
But the man in front of you had made trips to your room so frequently you’d figured he must have broken some kind of record. You’d treated gunshot wounds, minor burns, patched up his bloody knuckles countless times… there wasn’t an inch of skin you hadn’t laid your fingers upon. Each time you cared for his cuts or stab wounds, some of which hash-marked atop of old and stubborn scars, it was as if you gathered more intel about his personality otherwise untold.
König was a machine, dangerously dedicated to proving his worth - dangerous for the receiving party, of course - with a willingness to sacrifice as much of his flesh and blood as it takes. If necessary, he would nurse his own injuries, albeit terribly, in favour of granting himself an advantage or winning battles. You recall a few times in which you scolded him for his amateur efforts. “If you cauterise one more wound this terribly I’m going to refuse you of future treatment.”
Of course, he’d remained silent. But you swore you saw the slight crinkle in the skin around his eyes.
And in his dedication you couldn’t help but see a deep insecurity. Sometimes, but only on the rare occasion, he would show up barely alive. He would always be alone, never needing his comrades to waste their energy and strength on carrying him to safety. But you would always worry the most in these situations, when his skin was pale and cold and he still refused to remove his hood. “Anything below here, I can take care of myself,” he’d struggled to grumble out.
If he wasn’t so unbelievably skilled, you’d assume he had a death wish.
“I’m sure you’ve said that before,” he answered, the sudden sound of his accented voice gifting you with slight surprise.
“I suppose I’m running out of things to say,” you chuckle, continuing to swab at the dry blood clinging to the skin of his sternum. “And you’re just about running out of unmarked skin.”
“Mm, my gear does seem to be quite useless,” König nods. “Perhaps fighting naked wouldn’t make much of a difference.”
The harmless joke has heat creeping onto your cheeks, and you’re really baffled by your own brain because of it. As if you hadn’t seen ninety-percent of his body already.
“Perhaps not.”
"You are blushing," he notes. "Yet this isn't your first time you've rubbed at my bare skin."
The hand you had placed against him stilled momentarily as his point only intensified the bubbling heat in your face, swelling a ruby-red shade along each of your cheekbones. You continued your aid, with a strict refusal to allow your gaze anywhere else except for his wound.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," König breaks the short silence that followed.
You laugh dryly as your awkwardness fizzles away a little. "You're all finished."
König brushes a hand over the gauze, inspecting your work. When he says nothing, you stand on your feet and gather the used swabs, kicking your wheeled stool to the side to make your way to the bin.
Before the lid had even closed the trash behind it, you felt the warmth of his towering presence at your back. It startled you all the same, a sharp inhale sucking its way through your parted lips.
"I have to ask.. Do you like seeing what's beneath my gear?" He presses each of his long fingers into your shoulder as his hand cups over it.
"Isn't that question a little inappropriate..."
"If I'm crossing a line, then tell me to stop."
You open your mouth to reply, unsure of what exactly you'll say when the hand at your shoulder slowly begins to move. He's agonizingly slow, careful as he explores over the layer of your white button-up, and you feel utterly insane for being unable to use your words and put an end to it.
Instead, you stare blankly at the off-white wall in front of you and allow his hand to roam.
"Can I tell you something?" He asks, edging his hand to cup below your right breast. The touch causes you to lean into the tower of his body, a sudden tenderness and sensitivity wracking each nerve in your chest.
"I enjoy coming to see you," he continues, prompted by the way you relax against him. "In fact, I refuse to see anyone else when I'm injured."
It makes you cock an eyebrow. "I thought it was strange, just how often you needed medical attention. Were you slacking out there? Hoping to get injured so you could see me?"
König huffs out a dry laugh. "No. But part of me did want to be indebted to you."
Liar.
"Why?"
"Because I needed an excuse to give you exactly what you deserve."
You swallow a dryness in your throat, the hand on your breast gives a generous squeeze as you do so. You almost choke on your own saliva.
"If that's something you want..."
"And what do I deserve?" Though you feel as though you already know the answer, you ask anyway, subsequently causing a heavy pulse at within your heat.
"I'm much better with actions than words."
"They do speak louder, I suppose..."
König takes your response as agreement, the hand at your breast moving to dig desperately beneath one of the spaces between the buttons of your shirt. He finds purchase and, in one swift pull, violently rips open the shirt, each button clicking gently as they bounce against the tiled floor.
You open your mouth to scold him, to tell him that he owes you a new shirt pronto - but König is determined to waste no time as his hands are already tugging the band of your bra down to expose your tits.
"I've wanted to see these for a long time," he breathes, and you hear the tremble in his exhale as he does so. "So perfect."
It dawns on you that you must be an obsession of his, that he may be interested in you significantly more than you are in him. It's the only viable explanation for his reckless behaviour, and yet it still didn't make sense why he would risk his life even more than he already did just to be in your presence.
"I.. hope you realise I have no other shirt to wear," you say, inhaling sharply at the sensation of his hot, calloused fingers brushing circles into the shape of each of your nipples. "How am I going to leave this room?"
König tuts as his hands cage around the mounds of your chest and pulls you flush against him.
"Who said you're going to leave this room?"
The pit in your stomach spirals into a trench, and then König is lifting you, using the leverage of your weight against him, before you can even stutter out a response. His hands guide your body along like you're no heavier than a bag of rice, a true display of his unbeatable strength that sends your mind numb - reminds you of just who you're dealing with.
A ruthless, merciless killing machine.
When König settles onto the examination table, he makes sure that you're positioned perfectly onto the tautness of his giant thighs, and you finally win against the babbling, incoherent flurry of thoughts inside your skull and speak.
"This... Surely we're violating multiple codes of conduct.. protocols... I-"
König allows you to cut yourself off, relishes in the way you hiccup at the sensation of linen on skin as deft hands begin to slide up your skirt.
"We can stop," he suggests, halting the movement of his hands but continuing to brush his fingertips back and forth, so awfully close to the insides of your thighs.
You squeeze your eyes shut and drop your head to rest just below his shoulder. Every single horny neuron inside of your brain fires at you, reminds you of just how neglected you've been sexually, what the countless hours of constant shifts have denied you for so long. And then it dawns on you.
"König, we can't. I'm not on birth control."
The man laughs. Laughs. It's the first time you've ever heard such a soft, genuine sound escape his mouth. You feel a twitch below because of it, the heat between your legs only solidifying the way his display of amusement has made your want for him so much more intense.
"Love, I'm only interested in your pleasure."
And you know better than most that a man who prefers giving rather than receiving is a rare find.
It would be a tragic waste.
When you spread your legs unconsciously, your skirt ruffles up until it can't no more and König reacts accordingly to the invitation your cunt is giving to him. But he spends too much time massaging the sensitive skin between your thighs for your liking, and you lift your hips to encourage something more.
What you get is rather unexpected, and would be a little annoying if you weren't so drunk on your own arousal. König hooks a finger under the material covering your hip bone and jerks his wrist, tearing your panties with ease before moving to finish the job at the other side.
"Please," you murmur, eyes trained on the large hand between your legs. He shushes you, with a gentleness you didn't suspect he had in him.
"Quiet now," he hums out. "Let me show you how grateful I am to you."
You feel your clit screaming for pressure, but König's fingers seem to ignore the cry as he toys with the wetness around your hole. The sensation tickles slightly, until he's pressing his middle and ring fingers inside.
Immediately, your hands fly up to brace at the arm that begins to move, long fingers filling you enough to bring a whimper from you. It feels good, but not perfect, and the man seems to read your mind as he curls his digits to rub at your sensitive, spongy spot.
"Oh, fffuck," you sigh, digging the back of your head into him with more force and following with a series of guttural groans.
"Quiet," he scolds, a slight venom in his tone. "Or I'll have to stop."
"Don't," you almost growl with a buck of your hips.
You almost forget the other hand that rests over your left breast until it starts to knead and pull at the skin, almost miss the sound of König's pants as they ooze with arousal from behind his mask.
With only the sensation of König's palm brushing against it, your clit is desperately swollen. You're willing to look the other way when you feel yourself constricting around the now three fingers pumping in and out of you.
When he speaks, his movements don't falter.
"I'm going to stop, and when I do, I want you to lay on your back on this table. Understand?"
"Yes," you obey. You're pretty much putty in his hands at this point anyway.
And so you splay out on the cold metal of the table - which your white coat does nothing to protect you from - skirt bunched up around your hips, shirt ruined and ripped open and completely exposing your chest and belly.
"Lift your legs," he commands, hand ready to hold them in place as you do as you're told.
At the end of the table he stands, lanky arms reaching over to grasp each of your ankles as he slides you along the metal until the backs of your thighs butt against his own.
You feel uncomfortably aware of how exposed you are as he spreads your legs and examines the sight before him. His eyes are cold, fierce - akin to the eyes of a hunter eyeing its prey. Your body feels as cold as the surface beneath it underneath his stare.
König releases your ankles to let your heels rest at his shoulders as his hands begin a slow trail down and along your trembling thighs. Each of his thumbs hook around your corresponding hip bones, calloused fingers cupping in place at your lower back.
His baby blues eyes are considerably darkened to a shade of grey as they flick up to meet your own, and moments later the hem of his hood is brushing gently over your swollen slit.
You've never seen his face, but you've never wanted to more than you do now. His hold on you is intoxicating in a way that staggers your cognition, robs your brain of any chance of comprehension as you can only watch him lean further forward and dip until you can feel the heat of his breath against your cunt. His tongue is hot, completely saturated in his own saliva as it makes contact with your puffy clit. It snatches the breath from your lungs with violence, and when it starts to massage on and around the nerve you can only mewl and whine meekly.
König continues his watch on you the entire time, evidently enjoying the pained look that the struggle to keep quiet brings to your face.
You lift your hips into the onslaught of his mouth, and his grip around them becomes vice-like as he forces you into place and sucks harshly at your nub. This only serves to fuel your physical struggle under his pleasure more, and he grunts at your display of disobedience, lifting you higher until only your upper back and head touch the table.
The new position makes any movement too difficult for you, forces you to submit against him as he groans into the taste of your pussy. "König, I-God, I can't--" You flail your arms until they slump defeatedly back down to your sides, nails scratching at the frigid surface below you.
He manoeuvres his grip for comfort, lifting you further, until his forearms are encircling and squeezing around your waist and your calves hang over each of his shoulders.
"König, please, fuck--"
The man hums into your heat, all but abusing your clit with the vibration that follows through the sound. You're forced to slap one hand over your mouth to muffle the repetition of cries falling from it. König's lucky, his hood seems to dull his grumbles of pure satisfaction that reverberate against you. But you still hear every bit of them.
Your body spasms when you come undone against König's relentless mouth, legs jittering with a force that wobbles your entire body against his own. His hold on you helps stabilise you through the orgasm, but your hands fail to suppress the desperate, hopeless wails you release from behind them.
"That was beautiful," you barely hear him say through the ringing in your ears. "But I'm not done, Doctor."
2K notes · View notes
gratelove · 1 month
Text
Stark’s Daughter
Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: cursing, fluff, fighting, kissing, sweet and shy Peter.
You are Tony Stark’s daughter, and when Peter joins the Avengers, your dad sets him to train with you. After several weeks of getting to know each other, you and Peter start to catch feelings for one another, even though your dad told Peter you’re off limits.
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You’re walking down the hall of your home, Stark Tower, and you see your dad walking and talking with a young man. He’s brunette and looks to be about your age. He’s kind of cute. You decide to introduce yourself as you walk toward them.
“Oh, and here’s my beautiful daughter.” Your dad gives you a side hug and you giggle.
“Hi dad, who’s your new friend?” You smile at the boy.
“Honey, this is Peter. He just joined the Avengers, and he’s going to be training with you.” You raise your eyebrows in surprise.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Y/N. I hope I don’t go too hard on you.” You tease and stretch out your hand. Peter gives you a shy chuckle, and shakes your hand. His hand is larger than yours and a little sweaty. Poor guy, he must be nervous.
“Nice to meet you too. I’ll let you know if you do.” His voice is sheepish.
“So, when does practice start?” You ask.
“Well, I figure we’ll do twice a week. Once on a weekday after school and once on Saturdays. So, the first training will be this Saturday.” Your dad says.
“Well, I look forward to seeing you then, Peter.”
Saturday rolls around and you prepare for training with Peter. You have gloves set aside for the both of you. You look at yourself in the wall of mirrors and tighten your ponytail. You hear the door open, and Peter walks in wearing a muscle shirt and basketball shorts. You notice his muscular arms and try not to stare.
“Good morning.” You smile. Peter sets down a backpack and a water bottle.
“Good morning.” He smiles back. You start doing some stretches and decide to get to know your training partner a little more.
“So, Peter, what do you do? What’s your abilities?” Peter joins you on the floor for stretching.
“Um, I’m honestly still trying to figure it out, but I shoot webs, I heal fast, and I can sense things?”
“Sense things?” You question the meaning of this statement.
“It’s hard to explain, but I can tell what’s going to happen next. Like, I can sense it, I guess?”
“Training with you might be difficult if you know my next moves.” You both chuckle.
“Well, just don’t be predictable.”
“I’m never predictable.”
You’ve been training for a few weeks, and have gotten to know Peter well. You never really went to public school because of who your dad is, and it’s nice to have a friend that isn’t over the age of 30. As the days go on you start to look forward to the training days, and when training is over, you long for the next one. You think about asking Peter to stay for dinner or hang out on a day that isn’t training, but you can’t tell if he wishes to see you the way you wish to see him. You can’t help but think about him all the time, and you hate to admit to yourself that you have feelings for him. Especially because your dad told you that anyone on the team is off limits. Well, he really said all boys are off limits, but specifically teammates.
Today is your second to last training day, and then Peter moves to the next level of training. You can’t help but feel sad about this. You meet in the gym like always, and give Peter a small smile when he sits on the floor next to you to do stretches.
“What’s that smile for?” Peter asks as he puts both legs in front of him, reaching to grab his toes.
“What do you mean?” You don’t make eye contact with him.
“That was not a real smile. Are you not happy to see me? Kind of hurts my feelings.” Peter puts a hand over his chest, jokingly, and pouts his lip. He makes you giggle and you think about how cute he is.
“This is our second to last training.”
“Yeah, how am I going to force you to hang out with me now?” This makes you giggle again and you push his arm.
“Shut up. You never have to force me.”
“That’s good to know. I thought you might only be doing this because your dad makes you.” You roll your eyes at him and stand up. His jokes have made you feel better and now you’re ready.
“Alright Parker, you ready to get your ass beat?” You stand and shake out your legs.
“There she is.” He laughs and follows your moves. You bring your hands to fists in front of your chest, and plan your first moves. You always try to change up your fighting moves, because he was right about him being able to sense things. You and him have decided to call it his spidey sense.
You throw a few punches that he easily dodges. He throws a few back with no successful hits on you either. You focus and throw another punch, but he grabs your wrist as it flies towards his face. You use your other fist to try to hit him, but he grabs that wrist too.
“What are you gonna do now?” He asks and raises his eyebrows. You think for a moment, then wrap your leg around his and pull it out from under him. Peter loses balance, but still holding your wrists, he pulls you down with him. You scream as you fall and land right on top of Peter.
You both break into laughter and you lift your head from his shoulder to meet his sweet brown eyes. You get lost in them for a moment, and then you feel your cheeks getting hot. You clear your throat and shake from your locked gaze.
“Um, sorry.” You breathe and try to stand up, but Peter grabs you back.
“Wait.” You make eye contact with him again. Peter stares at you for a long moment and you start to get nervous. Why is he just staring at me? His lips are so close and look so soft. I want to kiss him so bad. You follow your intrusive thoughts and lean forward. Your eyes start to flutter shut .
“Y/N, I can’t.” You abruptly stop and open your eyes.
“Oh, I-um. Im so sorry.” You push off of him and stand up. You fix your tank top and start grabbing your stuff as fast as you can. You can feel tears burning your eyes, trying to fight their way out. God, I am such a fucking idiot.
“Y/N, you don’t need to leave. I’m sorry. I still want to train.” Peter grabs your arm. You pull it away and start to walk toward the door. “Y/N, please.” He follows you.
“Peter, it’s cool. Really, I’m just really embarrassed and I’d rather just train on Saturday, okay? No hard feelings.” You give a fake smile and rush out the door. You make it to your room, and close the door behind you, finally able to let the tears flow.
You’ve been dreading this day for the whole week. Tuesday was a disaster, and you don’t know how to go into training and not be awkward. You haven’t spoken to Peter since you ran out on him. Is he just as embarrassed? I doubt it. He didn’t try to kiss me and get rejected. You make it to the gym, and to your surprise, Peter is already there. You’re always the first one. You walk up to him and set your water bottle down.
“Hey,” is all you say in a low voice.
“Hey.” Like clockwork, you both sit on the floor and begin your stretches, only this time, it’s in silence. You feel your stomach start to tighten from the anxiety of the awkwardness. Maybe we shouldn’t even do this.
“Hey, Y/N, can we talk about Tuesday?” Peter stops stretching and turns his whole body toward you. You take a deep breath in.
“Peter, I’d really rather just get this training over with.” You continue to do your stretches and refuse to make eye contact.
“Then why did you even show up today?” The question catches you off guard. You can feel yourself getting defensive and you try to hold back your frustration that the question arose.
“Why did you? Did you expect me to come in here jumping for joy after Tuesday?” Peter stares at you for a long moment.
“Y/N, look, I’m really sorry about what happened. I -“
“It’s really fine. I said I don’t want to talk about it. You obviously don’t like me an-“
“Would you just let me talk? You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” Peter cuts you off just like you did him.
“I’m pretty sure I do, and I felt your rejection loud and cle-“ Before you can finish your sentence you feel warm hands grab your cheeks, and lips crash into yours. Your eyes go wide for a moment, and then slowly flutter shut. You let yourself relax and lean further into Peter’s soft lips. He slowly pulls away and the butterflies erupting in your stomach make you feel like you might throw up. “Well, you were right, I did not know what you were going to say.” Peter snorts a laugh and grabs your small hand in his. His cheeks are bright red and he can’t make eye contact with you.
“I’ve wanted to do that for way too long.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because of your dad.”
“My dad?” What does my dad have to do with any of this?
“He told me that if I tried anything with you he’d kick me off the team.” Peter looks up at you with worried eyes.
“So that’s why you didn’t kiss me Tuesday. Well, this will just have to be our little secret. He doesn’t have to know.” This makes Peter smile and he looks so cute and happy in that moment.
“Does that mean we can kiss again?” Peter pulls both of your hands into his lap.
“You can kiss me as much as you want, Parker.”
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ynscrazylife · 15 days
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You know what I really miss? Avengers x teen!reader headcanons, there use to be so much avengers content and practically dominated tumblr🥲
It would totally make my WEEK if you would make some classic mcu avengers(before infinity war) x teen!reader x Peter Parker(romantic) headcanons just about reader having powers and what it’s like living with the avengers 💕
-possible your new 👾anon?
let’s do this 💪 and YES you’ll be my first emoji anon!! @ anyone else, feel free to claim ur emoji!!
avengers x teen!reader headcanons
The Avengers are definitely reluctant to add another teenager to the team. Having Peter is great but has been a big adjustment, as they had to train him and protect him, less they face the wrath of Aunt May.
However, you were a compelling case, with your extensive abilities. You didn’t have many other options as to where to go and you hit it off with Peter right off the bat, working very well together as a pair. So, they took you in.
Tony worked with you on designs for your suit, Natasha and Steve trained you in combat (which meant you were going on morning runs with Steve and Sam. How fun . . . Though Sam could be convinced to give you piggy back rides, and you became Clint’s personal arrow-picker-upper. If you had powers, Wanda would definitely help you manage them.
Peter was naturally in tune to science, which meant you hung around the lab with him and Bruce a lot. It became a nice time to get your homework done, as Bruce would definitely help you with that. Sometimes you acted as Bruce’s and Peter’s assistant with their experiments.
Bruce was also a very good listener and your go-to person to vent to about your life’s problems (when Peter wasn’t around).
One of the conditions to be on the team was that you didn’t lapse in schoolwork, so they were very on top of that and your grades. Tony even offered to go to parent-teacher meetings. Any one of them were ready to go to your teachers or principal if anything happened.
Natasha would routinely check in with you to make sure that you weren’t being bullied.
Pepper also became a motherly figure, as she cared very much about you and Peter. She’d offer you a Stark Industries internship.
Movie nights were chaotic, but absolutely the best. It was hard for anyone to agree, so the team had a system where they’d rotate who got to pick the meeting. Sam and Peter were also not allowed to make popcorn after many unfortunate incidents. Most of the time you fell asleep late into the night and one of the Avengers carried you to bed (they’d never admit this, but that also became an argument).
It was during a movie night when Peter realized he liked you romantically. You fell asleep during a movie, your head on his shoulder. Peter swore he never experienced something so precious before. He was adamant to keep your peace, glaring at anyone who dared to talk.
The team found your growing romance to be adorable and often teased the two of you about it. The only people who didn’t tease you were Bruce, Pepper, and Thor (because he didn’t really understand how to effectively tease).
If Flash messed with you, Peter was always on top of it. He’d always protect you.
Steve was also always making sure that you knew right from wrong. He’d give long speeches about how it wasn’t right to smoke, drink, do drugs, etc.
Then Thor gave you Asgardian alcohol once, not realizing how bad that was considering you’re both human and underage. That was a mess. Peter having to hold your hair back when you vomited and multiple Avengers escorting you to bed. Thor got an earful about it.
Clint was one of the ones who better understood you, seeing as he had experience with his own kids. He was always good at mediating and defusing the tension.
Laura also adored you, you were her favorite babysitter for the kids. Whenever they went on date night, they’d drop the kids off at the tower, and you would watch them (Peter would help when he wasn’t on patrol).
Patrolling with Peter was also very fun. More often than not he’d convince you to take a break, then swing you up on top of a roof to watch over the city and the sky.
On multiple occasions, KAREN would rat the two of you out to Tony, but he was never mad. He just wanted to know all about the “date”.
Prom was also very fun. Honestly, the whole team would want to come pick out outfits with you and Peter. They took many, many pictures on the night of. Peter also teared up when he saw you. He thought you were stunning.
Of course, you guys had a curfew, but it was alright. You and Peter had a fantastic night. All he wanted to do was dance and hold you.
You had Happy wrapped around your finger. You could really convince him to drive you anywhere you wanted to go.
You also managed to get an internship at the Sanctum Santorum, learning more about magic under Doctor Strange and Wong’s guidance. The Avengers weren’t particularly thrilled, as they were worried about you being hurt, but understood your want to explore.
You really wanted to see all the areas of being a hero. Clint taught you archery and Natasha taught you how to be a spy. You’d listen to Natasha and Clint’s spy stories for hours. Peter would have to pry you away.
Peter always insisted on having date nights and would go all out, making every date special. He’d do anything to make you happy.
And so would all the Avengers. They loved seeing you smile, it brightened up their whole world and made the team stronger.
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seonghwaddict · 11 months
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★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 005 ] coca cola mashita.
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synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. swearing. word count. 1.7k
        chapter iv // chapter v // chapter vi
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It had been a week since Wooyoung invited you to their party, with only a few hours left until the occasion. You met him nearly every day in the past week, sometimes at his house and sometimes at yours. You also met another one of his very interesting friends.
You and Wooyoung had been walking from the art department to the library, where he temporarily left his bag because he was too lazy to carry it all the way to the art department. Everything was fine and peaceful until someone came barreling into Wooyoung. They both fell to the ground and for a split second, all you could make out from this mystery person is his head of dark hair.
But as he stood up and helped his best friend up, you had to stop yourself from staring at how broad his shoulders were compared to his tiny waist as he towered over both you and Wooyoung—not to mention his gorgeous face. The two had a short conversation until he noticed you standing by Wooyoung, awkwardly rocking back and forth on your heels.
“Oh, hey,” he smiled, a stark contrast to his chic hair and sharp features. “You must be Y/N. I’m San!”
You smiled back, offering a handshake, “Hello, San.”
“Great to finally meet you.” He chuckled and accepted your hand, shaking it enthusiastically. San stepped between you and Wooyoung, slinging his arms on either of your shoulders. “So, where to?”
You had also seen Seonghwa a few more times. Since the two of you met in that kitchen and you sympathised over linguistics, he opted to sit next to you instead of his usual place on the bench at the very back row. At first, you were confused but didn’t question it, and eventually, you came to accept it, placing your bag at your feet instead of your side like you used to.
Currently, you sat in your room at home, staring at your closet opposite of you trying to figure out what to wear. You weren’t really one to go to parties, so you never really bothered buying clothes that would be suitable for one. As you sighed, your phone started ringing from where you had tossed it on your desk. As you stood up and glanced at it, Wooyoung’s name lit up on the top of the screen.
“Hello?” You held it to your ear, collapsing back into bed.
“Hey, is it possible to buy some Coke and bring it over here? San and Mingi just came from shopping and these dumbasses bought anything but that and now they’re complaining because they don’t wanna go out again because they need to help set up and- just… could you please do me this favour?”
The desperation in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you as he groaned in frustration and suddenly you found yourself nodding along to his request, at least until you realised he can’t see you. “Yeah, sure. Just send me the address, okay?”
“Oka- actually never mind, I’ll just come get you. You don’t even have a car anyway.” You heard him laugh on the other line, any hint of stress melted away from his voice.
The grocery store was close enough to where you lived, so it took less than 10 minutes to walk there. As requested, you grabbed a cart and went straight to the drinks aisle, getting enough packages of canned Coke to supply what you assumed would be around a hundred people. The cashier looked at you as if you were a mad woman as he scanned each 8-pack.
As promised, Wooyoung was already outside of the store when you left, dragging multiple bags of coke so heavy you felt as if your arm would fall off. Seeing you struggle, he got out of the car and rushed over to take some bags. In fact, he took all the bags and you watched with mild fascination as he carried them without even a hint of struggle. His muscles tensed as you watched, you were surprised as you realised he wasn’t as scrawny as he looked.
“So, you rented a house just for a party?” You asked, leaning against the car as you watched him load the bags into the trunk.
He laughed, “Yeah, can’t have another thing breaking. Seonghwa was positively murderous when we found the remains of the chandelier.” You got into the car, strapping your seatbelt across you as you listened. “It was absolutely terrifying.” Wooyoung visibly shivered as he recalled the memory.
“Well, then I’ll make sure not to piss him off.” You let out a short, amused huff of air as you got comfortable in the all-too-familiar seat.
“Can we go back now–” You jumped in your seat, a small scream escaping you as you whipped your head to the backseats where San just made his presence known.
“San! Can you not?” You whined, collapsing your body into your seat before turning to glare at him. It was then that you noticed an unfamiliar person on his right.
Much like San, his features were also sharp. His nose seemed slightly sharper and pointed and his lips so very plump and pillow-like. He dressed himself in an oversized off-white sweater with a black turtleneck underneath and black straight jeans. You could tell he was taller than the other two men in the car, judging by how his knees were much more bent so he could fit into the seat.
“Mingi,” he introduced himself, a prideful smile lingering on his face as he noticed that both Wooyoung and San caught the way you scanned him with so much interest. None of them missed the way your eyes widened ever so slightly as he spoke, slightly taken aback by his voice.
You gave him your name and shook his hand, which felt so much bigger than yours. “Pleasure to meet you, Mingi.”
“Pleasure’s all mine.” He winked and your cheeks burned as you turned to face the road again.
You faced Wooyoung and narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you said they refused to get out to get Coke.”
“When I told them I was gonna be picking you up they practically begged me to take them with me.” He rolled his eyes, ignoring their protests against his words.
The drive to their rental house was a lot shorter than the one to their actual house, a little over ten minutes versus nearly half an hour. The entire time the four of you sang your hearts out to whatever song was playing on the radio.
The house they picked was pretty much a regular house, nothing fancy like their mansion. The walls were white with two floors and a dark grey roof. Instead of having a grand driveway with a gate, the house was situated right on the side of the road.
Wooyoung pulled over on the side of the street and you all got out, the boys taking the bags of coke from the trunk and firmly rejecting your offers to help them carry them inside.
You followed them inside and the interior looked just as mundane as the exterior. Wooden floors covered with grey carpets, a single grey couch pushed to the wall to make more space, wooden stairs leading to the second floor, and the kitchen cupboards and cabinets made of even more wood.
You continued to follow them into the kitchen where they loaded all the cans into the already-packed fridge. Again, you offered to help but they told you to just sit and relax, and that they would take care of everything.
“Ah,” you turned and saw Seonghwa coming from down the stairs, “I thought it was you that I was hearing.”
He went over to you and engulfed you in a short hug, thanking you for getting the beverages that San and Mingi were too lazy to get (the two men in question nearly knocked him upside the head). You chuckled and stepped back from him, spotting three more men you didn’t recognise descending the stairs.
One of them was tall, you assumed as tall as Mingi or even taller and had dark and light brown dyed hair and wore an oversized dark grey hoodie with some lettering and a pair of grey sweatpants.
The one behind him was definitely a lot short, maybe around Wooyoung’s height, with dyed bright blue hair and a blue t-shirt over a long-sleeved white shirt, both tucked into his baby blue jeans. This one had an array of jewellery on him, from multiple earrings hanging from his ears and rings adorning his fingers.
The last one to come down wore black jeans, a black hoodie and a grey trenchcoat. You recognised him and his distinct red hair, he was a regular at the bookshop you worked at. 
They introduced themselves with kind smiles before excusing themselves again, saying they had to go buy some speakers and pick up some of Hongjoong’s equipment. Whatever that meant. The one with the blue hair—Hongjoong you’d come to learn—offered you to join them, but you had other plans.
“Oh, I’d love to but I need to go buy something to wear for tonight and–”
Before you could even finish your sentence, Yunho poked his head back in from the front door. “We’re going to the mall for the speakers, so you can go buy your stuff while we get the speakers and then we’ll meet and stop by the house so Hongjoong-hyung can get his stuff.”
You contemplated the options for a moment, though you didn’t have to think too long before you nodded. The boys in the kitchen bade you goodbye as you exited the house. Wooyoung flung himself on you and clinged to you as he begged to be taken with you, but Seonghwa quickly shut down his whines and reminded them they still had a lot to do before the party.
With a pout, he gave you his best puppy eyes but you only laughed and pinched his cheeks, assuring him that you’ll spend time with him later. You got into what you assumed was Yunho’s car as he sat in the driver’s seat. It was a sleek black Mercedes-AMG with tinted window you wouldn’t be able to see through even if you tried. Jongho got into the passenger’s seat which left you and Hongjoong to the backseats. Nodding, you appreciated the clean interior with an approving hum.
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  [ lilo's notes ... ] i think i'm gonna change my upload schedule to saturdays at 2-3 pm instead. i live in europe, so if you live somehwere else please go ahead and convert the time if you wish. i envision san as inception era san, because inception san has a massive chokehold on me and mingi's visuals is based on guerilla era. i was originally going to do halazia era mingi because that's my favourite hair on him, but for some reason i decided to go with guerilla gi. as for hongjoong, blue is the only right answer (oreo joong is an honorable mention).
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