#they tried so hard to make things work and keep each other safe and their whole co-existence was shadowed by secrecy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scremogirl · 7 months

Text

✪⁂✫彡𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓✵ミ★✥

𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬

Yandere! Childhood friend x Hyper aware! Reader

Slight⚠︎︎warning. Hey loves! This is a collab with my best friend @constesplanetarium . Make sure you go check out her work. She’s the yandere master out of the both of us. The reader is slightlllyyy narcissistic, you gotta squint to see it. Like always check the end for a note. Enjoy!

It wasn’t more than a day that you you two weren’t together. From third grade all the way to your senior year in high school; he was always there. To think it all started from simply sharing your colored pencils.

Micah was your best friend, you’ve done everything together. All your first were together too. Your first kiss for example.

“I-I don’t know about this Micah, just don’t want things to be weird after this,” you hesitated.

“It’s fineee, I promise. Besides, you're my best friend; nothing could ever be weird between us,” you cringed a little at the fact that your first kiss was calling you his best friend. Not that it wasn’t true, it just wasn't as romantic as middle school you thought a first kiss would be. Your first date.

You held your head in your hands staring at the floor and heaved a big sigh. Your date had just stood you up. This wasn’t the first time this happened either, guys would ask you out and then just end up flaking. When you tried to talk to him earlier in the day he was sporting a big bruise on his jaw and cussed you out. You weren’t gonna let that slide tho, so when you called Micah to come help he hurley apologized and scurried off.

“I promise it’s not you beautiful, besides, he doesn’t know what he’s missing,” it goes silent for a bit before he perks up with a loud gasp.

“I know! How about we go see the movie together? He still let you keep the tickets right?”

You even had your first together. I mean, if that isn't true friendship I don’t know what is. So, why is it starting to feel not so friendly between you two anymore? He’s been acting a little weird as of late. He’s been more handsy lately; arm always around your shoulder or waist. He’s always been like this, and you guys did have sex once, but… this is different. His grip is a little tighter and his hands fall a little lower. He comes up behind you while you stand at the vending machine down the hall from the cafeteria, burying his face in your neck. When you told him to stop because you’re in school and people will start thinking things about you two, he just shrugs and says, “Nothing that they haven’t seen before,” with a dismissive wave of his hand. He even tried to kiss you yesterday when you left his house from a sleepover, claiming that it would keep you safe on your journey home (which is literally and I mean literally, right next door).

You’re not dumb. You know he likes you. In love with you. Everyone knows that. You know that he was the one that beat up your crush. You know why he wanted to have all his firsts with you. You noticed all the panties going missing every time he would visit. You noticed all your chewed pens and leftover food being taken out of the trash. You noticed his hard-on every time you’d wear a low-cut shirt or too short of a skirt. You noticed the box of your stuff tucked away under his bed when you dropped your pen whilst you were over-studying. You saw the photo album pushed into the corner of his basement. You saw the bloody rags and knives in the bathroom cabinet. You saw the way he would look at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. You liked the attention and the way he made you feel. But, you just couldn’t bring yourself to actually pursue him. He was your best friend and that was that. It’s not that you weren’t open to the idea of the two of you getting together, you were practically made for each other. Courtesy of him studying your insides ;) and outs. It's just the fact you know if you have him the time of day, you wouldn’t have time for anything else. Completely suffocated by his overwhelming love and attention.

That leads you to now. This is the first date you’ve been on since that incident in the beginning of your high school career. You met him in your psych class, thankfully one of the only ones you and Micah don’t share. Sure, you’ve had a couple one one-night stands and summer flings but as it denotes, they were all short-lived. This guy was different, he was sweet, funny, and paid attention when you talked; the whole package. But of course, this wouldn’t last long either. Prom was supposed to be the most exciting night for a senior. A big party with all your friends, dancing, laughing, the whole nine yards. That was until you saw your date tongue fucking another girl when you came back from getting the punch he requested. You sighed. Taking note of the not-so-discreetly placed $100 dollar bill in his suit's pocket. Of course. Just then you feel a tap on your shoulder. As you turn around you see him in all his glory. A y’all figure with his hair slicked back, one strategically placed string in the front. The dark blue suit perfectly matched your dress no matter how much you insisted that it was inappropriate because of your date. Green eyes peering down into yours with a mock of pity and astonishment. The scar on his cheek barley noticeable. He got it in an accident he had when you two were younger. He would always try to make you kiss it better, saying that it eased the pain from literally ages ago.

Micah.

“How about you and I go grab some dinner instead, hm?” The drive to the diner is silent. You two stuck out like a sore thumb in the cozy setting of the mom-and-pop shop. They’ve come to recognize you both. Ms. Dané, one of the owners of the shop would always question why you two weren’t together yet as her husband would chastise her for being so bold. Though, you could see it in his eyes just how curious he was.

You pull up to the mountain you two discovered on one of your long car rides to nowhere last summer. You spent most of it building a comfy place for the two of you to have your deep and emotional conversations. As you sit on the hill, looking down at the city and taking a bite of your burger, he turns to you. Before he could speak to you, you held up your hand effectively stopping him.

“I know,” he looks at you with wide eyes full of confusion. You take a handful of fries this time, chew, and swallow again before speaking.

“I don’t need you to lie to me.”

“He wasn’t good for you anyways,” he abruptly replies, it came out harsher than he attended it too.

“Besides, what kind of a guy would ask a girl out and then kiss another one a day later?” He huffs out an irritated laugh.

“That’s not what I meant, Michael,” the use of his full name struck a bit of fear in his heart. And pleasure to his pants.

“I know it was you,” he tries to speak but you put your fingers to his lips. Chewing on your burger and taking a sip of your soda to help push it down. The time it takes you to respond kills him, he tapping his leg and picking at the scar on his cheek anticipation. A habit he’s always had when he’s nervous or anxious.

“You know what I mean. I saw the money in his pocket,” He doesn’t wait for an explanation or care how you found out it was him. He pushes his food to the side before climbing over your outstretched legs. You’ve taken your heels off at his point, too uncomfortable to be walking up a mountain with. Micah insisted on carrying you anyways, saying that your dress was too expensive to get dirty but he gravel mud.

“I can’t stand the thought of someone else being by your side. I’m the one who's been here for you throughout everything. I'm the one who laughs with you when you're happy, cries with you when you're sad, and calms you down when you're mad. Not him. Not your parents. Not anyone. It’s always been you and me. Ever since the third grade you’ve been the one I wanted. I love (Y/n), nothing and no one can change that,” at this point his hands have a firm grip on your shoulders. Knees firmly planted into the hard ground beside you, surely his nice pants are fitted and scuffed but right now he couldn't care less. He stares deep into your eyes waiting for you to say something; anything.

For what seems like the millionth time you sighed since you met him, your gaze drops from your half-eaten burger to his frantic ones.

“Okay, Micah,” you say rubbing your thumb along the scar on his cheek. whose whole demeanor suddenly changes, this is the happiest you’ve ever seen him. Well since that day *if you know what I mean ^*. This time he grabs your food and pushes it away. You're a little sad, you wanted to finish the rest of that. You had no time to think, however, as he lays you down in the makeshift fort you’ve created. He lowers his head down, placing kisses on the column of your neck. He makes his way up to behind your ear, smelling his favorite of your perfumes. In his delusion, he can’t help to think that you wanted him to kiss you here. Placing it there to entice him in all the ways he wants you to. He rubs his cock against you, trying to get as much friction as he can. Even though it’s dark out and his suit is even darker, but the fairly lights strings up in the tiny fort help you see the pre-cum staining the front of the soft, thin material of his pants.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that. I promise this’ll be even better than the first. He could never compare to how I’m gonna make you feel,” he runs his hands up your waist, kissing the corner of your lips.

“Besides,” he starts. Eyes lowering down to your dress that has now risen to just above your lace panties

“I’m the only one who gets to see you full and dripping with cum”.

I don’t think I’m gonna turn Micah the into a full Oc seeing as this was a collab. If you liked it however, maybe I’ll make a couple headcanons or something. For the most part this was just a one shot. Again make sure to go check out my friends twist on the idea. ^the at is mentioned in the note above. Bye loves!

-Love, Sos❤️

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere childhood friend #✧✩🜚𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐂 🜸𖤐✰#✪⁂✫彡𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓✵✥☆ミ★

3K notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 5 months

Text

Coriolanus Snow Wants to Start a Family with You

You know that Coriolanus Snow wants to start a family with you because he keeps seeing other couples of your age, even those who have been married for a shorter amount of time having kids. He is very clumsy when interacting with his friends kids because he sees them as very fragile. At the the same time you can see how careful he's being with them, so you can only guess how careful he would be with his own kids.

Coriolanus Snow wants to start a family with you but he doesn't say it directly. He keeps talking about how pretty he thinks your kids would be and jokingly saying how he would call the kid Junior only for you to slap his shoulder and ending up brainstorming a whole notebook worth of potential names for your future kids.

There's nothing that he wouldn't do to make you feel safe. Coriolanus Snow wants to start a family only when you're both ready to take that step, but he knows that means he needs to work hard to maintain whatever type of peace he can by whatever means necessary. No matter how dirty and bloody his hands many get as a result. He will keep you safe, he will keep your future family safe.

If you feel scared about starting a family he will do his best to reassure you. Coriolanus Snow wants to start a family and to make sure you want this as well. You lay in bed together telling him about any doubts you may have and he does his best to do away with them. There will be many challenges for sure, he's scared too, but he's also very excited to start this new journey with you when you're both ready.

When Coriolanus Snow wants to start a family he starts spending less time at work and more time with you to get things ready. This becomes his highest priority when he finds out you're pregnant. Everything the two of you wanted, love, safety, family, a partner who can provide all of that for you. You both worked so hard for all of those things, and in nine months time you'll see the results.

Coriolanus Snow wants to start a family with you which will require for as much of his cum to stay in your pussy as possible. That's why since making that decision he no longer finishes in your mouth when you give him a blowjob, or anywhere on your body. He doesn't even jerk off because in his eyes that would be a complete waste of his cum and opportunity to make you pregnant.

The first night that Coriolanus Snow wants to start a family with you he gets almost feral with you, unlocking his urge, the need to breed that he thought he was above. Turns out that he's really not, not a chance. Because for the first time since you got together he doesn't need to worry about pulling out or finishinging inside you by accident.

Because Coriolanus Snow wants to start a family he makes sure to spend as much time fucking as possible, when he's not attending to other important things or spending other type of quality time with you. You fuck when you wake up, the moment he comes home, before you eat, before you go to bed, almost all the time when he has a day off work. You're like animals in heat when you're around each other.

Coriolanus Snow wants to start a family so tries to find the best positions to make babies in. Doggie style is fine but for him not the most ideal because he's missing out on seeing your beautiful face when you reach orgasm. Not to mention he wants to watch you as you beg him to put a baby in you, to shoot his cum in you and feel our legs lock around his body so he doesn't even think about pulling out. Not that he ever would.

Nothing will get in his way when Coriolanus Snow wants to start a family with you. If someone wants to talk to him about an issue they can do it after he's emptied his cum into your womb. He won't be kind to anyone interrupting him, knocking on the door while he's thrusting his cock into your pussy. Only after your hole is filled with his thick cum will he put some clothes on and go see what the problem is.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you

1K notes · View notes

soapisahimbo · 1 year

Text

Jealousy - Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons

Hi can I request any jealous/ possessive ghost head canons? NSFW PREFERABLY. Where he gets jealous and tries to distance the team from being too touchy with you or even to joke around with you. But they don’t know y’all are dating of course. So he has to fight his feelings and eventually taking it out on you if you know what I mean wink*wink*. Or the things he’ll do to show the others that you are his only and that’s when they got the clue. Please?

Wow, I'll admit, this was a bit of a challenge. Also I wrote it as a headcanon list, I hope that's what you were aiming for! I was honestly a bit unsure on how to approach this, and I'm a little unsure about how it turned out, but I genuinely hope that you enjoy it!

Containts heavy smut elements, so minors stay away!

warnings: simon is a jealous bitch, it gets rough, borderline dubcon, genderneutral reader/genderneutral anatomy

Simon has no lack of faith and trust in you. He has a number of peculiarities for sure, but he knows you'd never betray him or go behind his back. It's a trust you worked hard to gain, and it was hard work that he recognizes and appreciates. You've proven time and time again that you're safe in many ways and while he's always prepared for the worst, he's also an excellent judge of character. He can read you like an open book.

Simon has no lack of faith and trust in his team either. He'd never say it out loud, but they are his brothers in arms and he is ready and willing to kill and to die for them, just as they are for him. He's not exactly eager to show his appreciation for them, but they take what they can get, even if it sometimes is just a mere glance. Now, don't misunderstand - he appreciates that you and his teammates get along, and he knows that if something were to happen to him, they'd keep you safe. But he is a man of instinct, and he has a tendency to get a bit territorial, for lack of a better word.

You know he has a bit of a... jealous streak, to say the least. He doesn't try to control you, because his gripes are not with you. He might loom and he might grumble, but he likes seeing you getting dressed up, he likes seeing you having a good time, he enjoys seeing you laugh and joke around. As far as he's concerned, you can do no wrong. No, his gripes are not with you - never with you. They are, however, with everybody else that even glances your way.

Kyle and Johnny are both very friendly by nature - they're probably the most easygoing members both in and outside the task-force. They're the type of people that others trust and want to hang out with, and they also consider you a good friend, whom they like to hang out and banter with. They do seem to have a habit of hogging you though, much to Simon's chagrin, and while you can make it up to him most of the time, he doesn't find it any less infuriating when they whisk you away for you to witness their latest ideas and trinkets.

They are also flirts by nature. Simon knows this because they inadvertently flirt with each other, as well as himself, any other teammates outside the task force and even Price at some points, mostly through jokes. They could probably flirt with a brick wall as far as he's concerned. Which is why he can almost overlook it when they turn their cunning charms onto you. Almost.

No one knows about Simon and yours relationship, not even Price. He's made it a point to keep it on the low for the safety of both of you, and you couldn't exactly argue - it made sense considering the line of work. It seemed as if though you had to remind him of this several times whenever hands and eyes that weren't his own seemed to wander a bit too much for his liking - "you can't hold it against them," you'd say, "they don't even know." And he knows you're right, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to hold it against them.

Despite all this, he keeps himself in check fairly well. No one can tell if he's just staring normally or glaring daggers at others anyways, so he gets away with dreaming about stringing them up by their balls at any time. Or rather, he keeps himself in check fairly well - until he has you for himself.

You'd tease him about it, but it's kind of difficult to even form coherent thoughts once he's pounding into you like his life depends on it. The second you're alone with him, you best believe he's making the most of it. He'll cover your mouth to keep you from making too much noise (although you're not sure that ever helps because just the sound of him fucking you is loud enough anyways) and he growls into your ear things like "you're mine and mine alone," "one day I'll fucking bend you over right in front of those fucking idiots and show them who you belong to," "they think they can fuck you as good as I do," "I bet those fuckheads would kill to get a chance to make you cum this fucking hard."

He tries to keep them away from you, subtly in order to not draw attention to it, even though it doesn't always work, and he'd rather just kick them in the head. Places himself between them and you, keeps you close to him, gives excuses as to why you should be stationed with him, why you should be assigned to him and his missions - anything he can think of. He also has a penchant for interrupting others when they're trying to talk to you, coming up with something to send them away. You yourself are honestly surprised no one's caught on at this point, but that might because no one knows him quite as intimately as you do.

Every day that anyone has managed to get in the way for him always ends the same. If you could keep track of the time he spends fucking your brains out, you'd probably be concerned, but he doesn't give you any chance to gather your thoughts once he has you. If he's really pissed, he might start taking risks - dumb risks, if you had anything to say about it, but he rarely listens, and he knows exactly what weak spots to touch on to get you to give in.

He's pinned you against a door a number of times, somehow managing to stay deathly quiet while fucking you thoroughly with practically all of his teammates standing on the other side, completely oblivious to what's going on behind just a couple of inches of wood. He once fucked you just around the corner from an open hangar door, and if any of the people walking by had thrown a look in your direction, they would've seen you bent over, pants pulled down to your knees and with Simon's iron grip on your hips.

So far though, he's managed to keep it discreet, despite his hotheadedness. Never leaves any marks where anyone can see them, helps you stay on your feet if you're in a place where you have to be, makes excuses to do things for you so that you don't have to get up out of your seat - although he can't deny that a part of him wants everyone else to see what he's done with you. He wants to mark your neck and chest all over for everyone to see, he wants everyone to see you stumble when you walk on shaky legs after he's done with you. He's had to fight the urge to just throw you onto the table whenever the force invites you in for a poker night and fuck you in front of them, just so that they can see that only he can have you.

But he mainly keeps it to himself. You'd be far too pissed at him if he pulled a stunt like that for it to be worth it. In fact, he reached a point where he was almost fine with at least Johnny and Kyle being their usual selves with you (to a point, of course). He almost got over it. Until, of course, the idiot with the mohawk decided to push it a bit further than he usually did.

The outcome can be blamed on a number of things, really. 141 had been away for an extended period of time, long enough for Simon to reach for his phone and send you some heated messages nearly every day for the last week, which was rare. So when he was finally coming back to you, finally able to spend as much time as he wanted in bed with you, when he steps off of that goddamn fucking helicopter to finally be greeted by you, what happens? John 'Soap' FuckTavish runs full speed ahead to you, wraps his dumb fucking arms around your waist, hoists you up in a fucking hug and plants a big fucking kiss on your cheek. Numerous times, mind you!

While you were indeed happy to see him and the rest of the team, you could tell that Simon had reached an instant boiling point. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought that he was about to blow Johnny's brains out then and there, but instead he simply walked up to you, grabbed Johnny by the shoulder and just about yanked him away from you.

"Maybe take a shower before you start rubbin' your stink all over everyone else, Sergeant," he said, pushing Johnny away. Wow, smooth, you thought to yourself, but Johnny seemed to take it in stride and laughed. "Gee, sorry, LT. Just happy to be back with a good friend is all." And as a final nail in the coffin, he winked at you before strutting away.

Kyle and Price greeted you as well as they passed by, Kyle also giving you a warm and tight hug, rocking you back and forth, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from Simon where he stood. Once they'd moved on, you turned to him with a sheepish smile. "Hi, baby," you said as sweetly as you could.

He grabbed you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks so that your lips puckered; firm, but not rough. He leaned in close, his eyes fixated on you. "I've had it," he said and while you weren't exactly sure what he meant, you knew that there was something in store.

He picked you up and threw you over your shoulder and you were suddenly aware of the fact that there were still people around to witness this very unusual display from Simon 'Ghost' Riley. He carried you through the hallway that lead to his room and people were gawking at you as you tried to protest, tried to remind him that no one's supposed to know, that you need to be discreet about this, but how could you say all that without giving everything away when everyone could hear you? So you tried to just act like you didn't know what was going on, asking him what he was doing, where he was taking you, why he was doing this, but he didn't say a word. You're pretty sure that far more than you were comfortable with watched as he carried you into his room and locked the door.

He threw you onto his bed and tore his mask off, throwing it onto the floor with such force that you thought he broke it. "Simon, what the hell?!" you said, watching him take his gear off and haphazardly toss it to the side. "I thought we were keeping this shit secret!" But he didn't seem to listen. He simply stared at you with some combination of lust and anger as he stripped himself naked in front of you.

He grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed, wrapped your legs around his hips and leaned over you, pinning your hands in one of his above your head. "I've. Had. It." he said again. His other hand moved down to your crotch and pressed, rubbing at you. "I should've fucked you the second I touched ground - maybe then they'd get the fuckin' point."

Everything happened so fast after that - he ripped your shirt off, from the collar and all the way down, and you're pretty sure he broke your belt before he practically ripped your pants off as well. He kept you pinned against the mattress as he relentlessly fingered you, and when you tried to keep quiet he'd only up the intensity, focusing on that exact spot to break you apart. "I'll make them get the point, how's that?" he grumbled and spat at your hole, staring as if hypnotized.

You had no idea how long he'd had you just like this, eventually with both hands working you past the edge over and over again, but you were pretty sure that if you came just one more time you'd pass out, and he hadn't even fucked you properly yet.

At some point, you were vaguely aware of him lifting your hips up, placing your ankles on his shoulders before you felt him push into you and you thought you felt a part of your mind break. You didn't have any energy left to try and keep quiet anymore, so any moans and cries that worked their way up from your chest were let out freely and loudly as he pounded into you. Between the biting and the sucking all over your neck and chest and whatever other parts his mouth could reach, you thought you heard Simon praise you for every sound you let out.

His grip was sure to leave bruises on your hips, but he found that he had little concern about it as he watched your eyes roll back. With how he was handling you, he'd wondered if you'd mark him up the same if he asked you - it would only be fair, and he would be more than happy to wear any branding that you'd put on him. But for now, he'd put his on you.

He gripped the back of your knees, pushing them up to your chest and pushed himself deeper into you. He growled all sorts of dirty exclamations about how you looked, how you sounded, how you felt and how now no one would dare to lay a finger on you again. He fucked into you with reckless abandon, eventually pushing all the way into you to cum as deep into you as he could before pulling out and using his hands once more, fingering his cum back into as it leaked out.

You came one last time with a loud and near pornographic cry, the world flashed white, and before you knew it, you were held up in a warm stream of water in the shower, Simon's calloused hands stroking you gently to wash all the fluids off of you. "Aren't you such a good doll for me, baby?" he mumbled. "So good..."

You were littered with hickeys and bite-marks, painfully sore all over in the best sort of way, so weak in the legs that your knees were still shaking and you could barely stand. "The fuck got into you?" you managed to breathe out. "I'd be surprised if the entire fucking complex didn't hear us." Simon simply grinned. "Good. Maybe now everyone will know to keep their fucking hands off."

You were incredibly pissed at him once you saw yourself in the mirror, yelling at him and telling him that there is no way you can go out there looking like this. You scolded him, unsure if he even cared, but he dutifully went out to grab you some new clothes to replace the ones he ripped apart when you demanded him to.

The following week or so was incredibly stiff, both literally and figuratively. People would nearly sprint out of the room if you entered, trying not to pay any attention to your awkward walk, and you practically banned Simon from sex until you could sit down properly ("Plus an extra week!" you had added, just to get your point across) and all the marks had faded from your skin. Simon did make it up to you, being extra sweet on you, massaging any and every sore spot you had regardless of if he had caused them or not, running errands to make sure you didn't have to leave your spot.

As for the task force... for as long as they could see the hickeys on your neck, Kyle and Johnny tried every excuse they could think of to not look too much at you, or they told you that they had somewhere to be before awkwardly stumbling off under the glare of your boyfriend. Price himself was also a bit awkward, but for the most part, his reaction consisted of calling Simon into his office and scolding him for "causing a ruckus". He also threw in a "and for fuck's sake, don't break them - I'd rather not have to write that report!"

Simon did appear to be pleased with the results, however. Everyone steered clear of you, with the slight exception of his teammates, but even they were treading carefully. He barely even had to do anything. A bonus was that anyone that tried to be an asshole to you also kept their distance, which even you could agree was at least one positive thing to come out of the whole ordeal. At least he'd gotten it out of his system. For now.

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut

3K notes · View notes

ramons-elevator · 9 months

Text

*SLAMS HANDS ON DESK*

FUCKING PHILS POV

Everything about his POV was bone chilling holy shit. Also fucking shoutout to the admins for picking Chayanne and Tallulah bc that was a really smart move.

For some context for those who arent Philza watchers:

Tallulah and Chayanne obey Phil. Yes they can be divas sometimes and be dumb and silly, but they arent like their siblings like Dapper and Richas who will just be dramatic and do dumb and dangerous stuff when their parents dont feel 100% okay with it. They will throw a fit but still be respectful of Phil’s word.

Phil said multiple times to them, especially Tallulah, to not go to the dinner no matter what. That as soon as it hits 2pm PST, they get tucked into bed and they can wake up after if they want. Chay and Lullah both agreed bc they both fear dying. Tallulah wants to see her dad and Chayanne knows how hard his dad works to make sure they are safe.

Let me fucking tell you how creepy it was seeing Tallulah walk into the dinner.

Phil immediately questioned her and was like “what the fuck you doing? We both agreed you would stay in bed.” and when ‘Tallulah’ just stared at him and shook her maracas, you could feel the air still.

Personally, it felt like a bucket of ice water got dumped on me. Phil literally froze. Because thats not fucking Tallulah. Tallulah is calculated, gentle, and slow moving. The ‘Tallulah’ at the dinner was shaking her maracas without a care in the world, running around. Also Tallulah will talk to Phil and they check in on each other. The ‘Tallulah’ at the dinner didnt put down a sign once.

Then as Phil was realizing that Tallulah wasn’t Tallulah, then ‘Chayanne’ comes in. At this point Phil realized that both ‘Tallulah’ and ‘Chayanne’ dont have cracks. Phil straight up looks at ‘Chayanne’ and says “You are fake, you arent my son.” Also same thing with Tallulah, Chayanne and Phil check in with each other. They are a well oiled machine. Phil knows Chayanne like the back of his hand and vise versa.

To be fair, Chayanne isnt an egg of many words. He likes action and just nods/shakes of his head when talking. If need be he will place a sign down, but he doesnt talk as much as Tallulah. So it isnt hard to impersonate him.

But the second, ‘Chayanne’ started punching Phil was again bone chilling. Chayanne rarely hits Phil, maybe once or twice from the top of my head. Again, Chay and Lulah are very respectful of Phil. If they need his attention, they do other ways. They dont hit.

And thats when Phil let Fit know that something was wrong. Those werent his kids. That they are fakes. Around that time, Phil runs home and sees that his actual kids are sleeping. He takes a photo, runs back, and fucking shows ‘Chayanne’. Phil lets the fakes know that he knows and he doesnt give a shit.

At some point, Phil and Fit talk again and ‘Chayanne’ runs up and tries to take the photo from Phil. Phil basically said fuck off and went back to his seat.

The part I find so fucking eerie was that Fit and ‘Chayanne’ had a lil talk. ‘Chayanne’ put down a sign that said something along the lines of “My dad doesnt love me anymore”.

That sign literally made me start to freak out because thats the fucking last thing the real Chayanne thinks. The real Chayanne knows that his dad loves him to death. That Phil would burn this server to the ground if anything bad happened to Chayanne. Chayanne knows that Phil does everything in his power to keep his son alive. He knows how much Phil worries about him and Tallulah (both the characters and the admins).

Going back to what I said at the start, the admins were so fucking smart for picking Chayanne and Tallulah to be the ‘Code eggs’.

People outside of Phil, Fit, Bad, and maybe Forever/Cellbit dont really spend time with Chayanne and Tallulah. Yes, other people do care after them and know them, but they really dont know their mannerisms and quirks. They dont know that Tallulah only shakes her Maracas when she is very excited or have something to say. They dont know that, while Chayanne can be hyper, he usually is very obedient and stays close to Tallulah when he can.

So putting them in a party where the attention isnt on them 100% time is so smart. They can run around and people dont think about it. They just see two eggs running around and having fun. They dont know how wrong it is to see them like that.

Then when the ‘Code eggs’ made themselves known, Phil got kicked. Again very smart from the admins because no one wanted to kill ‘Chayanne’ and ‘Tallulah’ even though they were obviously Codes. Even Fit, who Phil told over and over again that those arent his kids, hit the Codes once or twice but stopped because he didnt wanna take that risk. No one wanted to take the chance of hurting an egg. It gave the ‘Code eggs’ time to kill Charlie and try to kill others.

But the second Phil joins back, he is screaming that those arent his kids and to kill them. That they were impostors. Even then, they let Phil kill the Code eggs.

Then when Code Tallulah died, everyone stepped back and let Phil 1v1 Code Chayanne.

Im so impressed with the admins and the people who played the fake Chayanne and Tallulah. They did such a good job of putting a spear of ice through my heart. 100/10 Bravo

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp chayanne #qsmp tallulah #qsmp philza #philza

3K notes · View notes

reverie-starlight · 2 months

Text

{peace - atsumu}

would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

putting this down as fem!reader, only because there are some specific nicknames I wanted to use (pretty girl, sweet girl, etc) no physical descriptions though!!

very soft fluff, like disgustingly soft. this is loosely based on one of my absolute favourite songs <3

“I feel so safe with you…” you mumble one night while resting against his chest.

it’s been a busy evening- going to one of his games and then to your work party immediately after. needless to say, the both of you are very tired. so tired that when you got home an hour ago, just past midnight. he had to help you get your pyjamas on and drag you to the bathroom before you flopped into bed and cuddled close to one another. you’ve been recharging with each other and focusing on some quality time you missed out on during the day.

atsumu feels his heart squeeze at the sound of your sleepy voice, soft and quiet and matching the persona you often take on when you’re exhausted.

he sighs in content and strokes the cheek not pressed against his chest with his thumb. slow and gentle. “yeah, pretty girl?”

you nod a little, nuzzling further into his skin. “you’re so peaceful.”

he freezes a little out of pure shock.

atsumu has never considered himself a peaceful person.

he’s seen his fans online lovingly describe him as chaotic, heard his teammates refer to him as energetic and sometimes hard to keep up with. he’s gotten abrasive, overexcited, intense… and what’s more, the lifestyle that comes with being a pro athlete is anything less than peaceful to begin with.

he still doesn’t see those as inherently bad qualities, even now that he’s older and doesn’t let his ego run the show anymore.

however he’s got it stuck in his mind that he could never give you peace. would it be enough for you? would you stay with him ten years down the line, even with all the flaws that he believes he is? he’s not easy to love, he knows it, but is he enough to make you stay?

and then sometimes you say things like that, making him question everything, things that change his own perception of himself.

“peaceful, huh? weren’t ya running your mouth this morning calling me a freak for putting my milk in before my cereal?” he tries to joke.

you giggle a little and he holds you tighter out of adoration. “well you still are, but you’re also very peaceful.”

he’s silent for a moment but he can’t help but ask, “how do ya figure?”

you do your best to word it properly. he loves the way your face scrunches up as you think of what to say. “I always feel so calm around you. more calm than I’ve ever felt around anyone else. and so extremely safe. I can be myself with you and I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re around because I know you’ll be there to help me if something does happen.”

he doesn’t know what to say, but you solve that issue for the both of you with what you say next.

“you offer me a special type of peace I didn’t think was possible, ‘tsum. you’re my angel.”

you make it seem so simple, like there’s nothing in the world that could ever dispute it.

he can’t stop his eyes from welling with tears. he’s always been an emotional person- he knows, he’s been berated for it since childhood, both teased and defended against others by osamu for it. he wears his heart on his sleeve and it wasn’t until meeting you that he considered it an admirable quality. he feels things deeply, and this hits him deeper than anything else ever has.

but you’re just as emotional as he is, so when you look up and notice him trying not to cry, you immediately tear up too. “don’t cry,” you sniffle, trying to wipe his tears while a few run down your own face. “I love you so much, atsumu.”

he sniffles as well, voice thick and full of love. “I love you, too, baby. how’d I end up with such a sweet girl, huh?”

you shake your head. “I’m not, I’m just telling the truth.”

he laughs through his tears. “and being sweet while doin’ it.”

he presses kisses to your forehead, mumbling small thank you’s against your skin. “for the record, I feel the exact same about you. my angel.”

you crawl up a bit so you could be face to face with him. you kiss him properly and taste the saltiness of your mixed tears.

“I didn’t think I could ever offer that to anyone. I’m not used to hearing it, so I stopped believin’ it.”

your heart breaks a little but you’re quick to reassure him. “well believe me. you offer me more than I deserve.”

“that’s not true,” he’s always so quick to defend you. “you deserve way more than I could ever give you.”

you smile a little bashfully and then pull a face he recognizes as the one you make when you’re trying not to yawn. “alright, sweetheart, we should get some sleep.”

he strokes your cheek and gently rolls you off of him so your head rests against your pillow. he chuckles when you immediately choose to rest it against his chest again instead. he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the top of your head.

you listen to his heartbeat and drift off. your breathing evens out almost immediately and atsumu thinks back to a time when you used to struggle to sleep around him.

he smiles to himself, wiping the last of his tears and whispers something you just barely manage to catch before sleep fully pulls you under.

“sweet dreams, baby. I love you.”

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

peace is one of my favourite songs ever, I very much relate to it. and I think atsumu would too. I wrote this at like 1 am so if there’s mistakes, or if it seems very all over the place, blame it on sleep deprivation and devastating brain rot for the boy </3

hope you enjoyed :)

some tags :3

@emmyrosee @dira333 @luvring

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader fluff #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff

696 notes · View notes

dreamofbecoming · 1 year

Text

listen i know we all love steve “completely ignorant of queer culture to the point that bisexuality is a surprise” harrington being roasted and educated in turns by robin and eddie, yadda yadda, good stuff. i read “they made a horror version of rocky?” in a fic recently and cackled. also a big fan of “he knew he was bi from the start and just never talked about it” as a trope, love it excellent well done

but what about steve who realizes after starcourt that the most important person in his life now has this thing that’s a major part of her life that he knows nothing about, and what if he fucks it up? what if he says something ignorant or rude by accident, and hurts her? what if he loses her because he didn’t know the right thing to say? what if he can’t keep her safe because he doesn’t know what to look out for? absolutely fucking not, this steve says

and listen she’d never say anything, because she can tell that he can tell how much she likes teasing him and teaching him things, so he plays dumb, and she thinks it’s very sweet. but she notices when the zines she keeps under her bed that she buys at that one secret bookshop in indy when she can sneak away on family trips start going missing, always one at a time, and replaced in a few days with another disappearing. and she finds the new ones he must have gone to buy the weekend she was at her aunt’s house hidden in the back of his closet when she goes to steal one of his sweaters. and she notices when he slips more of her queerer movie recommendations into his personal take home pile rather than the movie night stack when he thinks she’s not looking.

she doesn’t notice when he drives to indianapolis after she tries to explain to him why she can’t just ask out a cute girl, tries to impress on him the fear attached to every moment of attraction that he simply has never had to feel, but later she finds a crumpled receipt from a diner in one of his jacket pockets when she’s looking for his keys, and the address is across the street from the bar the gorgeous woman at the bookstore told her about, the one she memorized the address of but hasn’t worked up the guts to think about visiting, and she knows he must have gone looking for a place like that, must have been trying to understand, must have been scoping it out to make sure it was somewhere she could feel safe, after she told him she never had.

so when eddie nearly pops a blood vessel when they clock each other and she mentions that steve is the only person she’s ever come out to before, her hackles come up. because she gets it, she does, he’s only known king steve until recently, so it makes sense that he would be afraid, be concerned for her safety.

but steve is her person, and no one- no one- has ever made her feel as protected or as cared for as he does. no one has ever tried as hard to understand her, no one has ever put so much work into making her feel safe and seen and loved. and she thinks maybe even if no one else ever does, that’s ok. because she has steve, and more importantly steve has her, and that means no one gets to question his ally credentials in her presence without a dressing down to remember, no matter how well they mean or how recently they helped save the world.

(and maybe she’s not as surprised as she could be when he figures out bisexuality all on his own, because she’s been reading all the same pamphlets he has, after all. and she’s seen the way he looks at eddie, i mean come on. maybe no one else has noticed, but then, nobody knows steve harrington like she does.)

#stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #steddie #(if you squint)#this got away from me #i just really love love giving steve a bit more credit yk?#like yes he’s very stupid and he has a history of being self absorbed #and we love that about him #he’s very flawed and that makes him interesting #but i really feel like one of his defining traits is his need to be useful to the people he loves #combine that with his abandonment issues and i really feel like he would be scared of fucking up and losing robin #and yeah he would play dumb like he does with dustin and d&d #but i don’t believe he knows nothing about d&d after all this time and i don’t believe he would let himself know nothing about queer culture #i’m just so so attached to the idea of steve who knows that teasing him for being dumb is his friends’ love language with him #so he pretends to be dumber than he is so they have chances to explain things to him #also stobin sharing clothes is so so so important to me just putting that out there #anyway i just think they’re neat #my writing

2K notes · View notes

xan-izme · 11 months

Text

Crybaby (Sully fam X daughter!reader)

Summary: Reader has always been a crybaby. Sensitive and had a soft spot for all living life. Jake disliked how sensitive you always were, he sent you out on your own for a month and came back a cold-blooded killer.

Warnings: Death, gore, mentions of death, mentally unstable reader, violence, Trauma

You were kind, sweet. Always looked on the bright side, you were on the same path as Kiri, training to become Tsahik. But it was clear you weren't as good as Kiri, which you were quick to admit.

That lead to Jake placing you with your brothers, training to become warriors. He wanted to tough you up, Jake loves how much you cherished love, he loved seeing the world through your optimistic eyes.

But ever since the sky people came back, he just needed his eldest daughter to be strong. Be there just in case he would leave this world a little too early.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Y/n, I need you to keep your balance! keep tripping like that you'll get killed." Jake's words hurt you, but you remember how upset he was the last time you nearly cried.

You inhaled sharply "Yes father." You stood up from the ground and faced your twin, Neteyam. He gave you a knowing look that wanted to know if they should stop, you shook your head lightly, not wanting to seem more of a wimp to your father then you already are.

You were an average hunter, your skills in fighting weren't that bad either.

But that wasn't enough for Jake. He needed to know that you were as skilled as Neteyam, as skilled as your mother was. So, it was always.

"Be faster"

"Hit stronger"

"Not good enough, try again!"

You would push your limit. Till you couldn't keep your eyes open. Your father would say words of gratitude here and there. Like small nods and a "Good work"

Your brothers sometimes feel like that's not enough for how much he makes you do. But just the smallest amount of approval from Jake made you feel like you were on cloud nine, causing you to do more, work harder.

Then one day, you were having a hard week, you were getting frustrated at the simplest things. Even your fathers nagging was annoying you.

When it came to training, you slipped up and made multiple mistakes that Jake just could not take it.

"Y/n, come now." Jake spoke calmly. You and your twin glanced at each other. You stood up with the help of Neteyam and followed your father.

The two of you walked through the woods.

"Baby, you know why I push you and your siblings so much, right?"

You nod your head, feeling a little nervous even if Jake was using his usual soft tone. "Then you understand--" Jake held you by your shoulders "--That this family, this clan is our fortress. And protecting this family is everything"

His words were deep to you, it was clear this was important to him. "And I need you to be strong. And training here hasn't been helping. So, Im sending you off. Away from here, so you can improve more on your own" Jake saw how your expression dropped "don't worry! It'll only be for a month. Ill check in every few weeks." He tried to reassure you. It didn't really calm your nerves down, but seeing how desperate he was to make sure you and the family was safe?

there was no way you could say no.

So, you left, you were on your own. The first few days were hard. And there were multiple times when you got seriously hurt and cried. God, you cried so much. All that crying made you hate yourself.

Hate every flaw you had. You even hated the soft part of you. Scolding yourself, knowing that kindness and your crying will not protect the clan, your family.

Jake did try to visit you. But you never stayed in one place. The two of you talked a little over the inner coms when you two would be miles apart. But those convocations didn't last.

You were training harder than ever. Perfecting every little thing down to the bone. In all honesty, you did go a little off from the safe zone, where you ran into a few sky people. You made it our alive, as for those sky people?

Well, you only let one live, still having that small kindness and mercy in you. Which was a big mistake.

You received a message from Norm and Max when they wanted to check on you, that a sky person bombed up a small part of the safe zone close to the high camp. No one was killed, but a lot were majorly injured.

Gaining all the details of the incident, you realize that it was the sky person you let live.

Cursing yourself and beating yourself for being so foolish, so naive for thinking nothing of what that sky demon after setting it free. So, you vowed to not give your enemy's any type of mercy, to kill all those evil demons, to protect you clan, your family.

Because this family was your fortress. And you were determined to be theirs.

Your month was over, and you were just so excited to go home. To hug and smother your siblings with kisses. To show your dear parents how strong and skilled you've become. To make your father proud of you. To officially be seen as enough to help protect everyone.

Norm gave you an inner com that was connected to your family, being told that your parents and dear twin brother were on patrol at the moment.

You decided to fly your Ikran to where you were told you parents and twin would be at. But when you were a few clicks away from them, you heard Lo'ak's voice. Saying he has gained sight of intruders. Ones who were carrying guns.

Dreamwalkers

You spoke into your inner coms.

"I'm closest to their location. I'll engage."

"Y/n-- wait, no! Y/n you better not!" Jake shouted.

"Y/n te i'tri Mo'ata Sully. Stay down! that's an--"

You turned your intercoms off. The safety of your baby siblings was the only thing you had in mind. It was almost eclipse, and telling by how the winds picks up and the clouds, it was to rain soon.

Your Ikran felt the panic and determination you were feeling and speed up to get to the location faster.

You made it before your parents and twin could. You killed off every single dreamwalker. And that demon who took your mother's home away, who took Kiri's mother away.

The demon who caused so much harm to your clan.

"Any last words Demon?" you say, tilting your head as you held the sharp dagger to Quritche's throat. The Demon growled and spat in your face.

You weren't very pleased with that; you turned your head towards your siblings who were huddled against a tree.

"Spider"

The small human boy flinched by the way your voice sounded.

"Close your eyes." You said with a small fond smile. But it felt nothing like that. Kiri quickly brought Spider close to her and covered his eyes.

You looked back at Quaritche. The moment you slit his throat and began to detach his head from his body, was the moment Jake and Neytiri entered the scene.

Neytiri was quick to go by her younger children's side. Your ears perk and notice Jake. Once you laid eyes on him. Your face lit up.

"Father!" Youran to him and hugged him. Jake was in utter shock at the scene in front of him. He slowly hugged you tight. You pulled away, smiling, unphased by the amount of blood that was on you.

"I did it. I saved them. Look!" you pulled Jake to where Quaritche's dead body was and grabbed the head of the demon.

"I have killed him. I did it!"

Neteyam slowly entered and looked over what you had done.

"Mommy!" Tuk whined and was quickly embraced by Neytiri.

You were smiling, happy that you've finally rid your father of the nightmare that had burdened your family.

But when you began to see the look Jake had. You started to notice that was not the look of approval you hoped for.

"Y/n . . .What have you done?"

Your smile dropped, being replaced with confution

"Wha-. . .what? what's wrong? what did I do wrong!?" You didn't understand. Did you not put them down fast enough? Should you have taken out the leader before the others? What was it that was wrong??

"Y/n, baby. This--" He was pointing out to the bloody battle around them "--Is wrong. You tampered with their body's. Some of them are still bleeding out!"

"N-no! it's okay you see! I made it for them to not move at all and suffer their punishment." You tried to defend yourself. Tried to make your dear father know that it was okay. And that you did a good job.

Neytiri hurried the children to exit this part of the forest fast, including Spider. Neytiri didn't like Spider, but the boy didn't deserve to see all of this. None of her children did.

"That is not our way!" Jake yelled. Frustrated, worried and scared for his daughter in front of them.

Your ears pinned back. Feelings of sadness, betrayal and anger infecting your heart.

"Well, your way didn't work for me. You said so yourself! Why can't you just be happy!?" Your nose scrunched up in anger.

"I did this for the clan, for our family-- For you!" You were getting upset. All you wanted was the feeling of being called a Sully, worthy of the tittle as Toruk Makto's daughter.

"You can't do this. Your way will bring unbalance to the clan. And if you can't do that. . . then I'll have to strip your tittle as a warrior of this clan." Jake's words caused everyone to stop.

"Ma jake." Neytiri spoke, her eyes glancing between her mate and child.

You felt your bottom lip quivering. But your eyes refused to release the tears. You slowly backed away from Jake, nodding your head a little. Your eyes found its way to Spider who kept tripping, his legs still shaking from what he witnessed.

"Spider." You spoke up. The boy forced himself to look at you.

"Keep tripping like that. . . . . and you'll get killed."

#jake sully #neytiri #neteyam #lo'ak x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter reader #kiri avatar #spider #tuktirey #na'vi x reader #death mention tw #animal death

3K notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 9 months

Text

Day At The Pool

Yan Casino staff + G.N Reader blurb

They've been staring at you all day....

Four members of the hotel staff you have the sneaking suspicion have been following you since you checked in. An extravagant and luxurious hotel spanning roughly the size of a small town - yet you saw their faces at nearly every corner.

It was reasonable to see them from time to time. Your first instance of meeting the group was on your travel to the floor you'd be spending the duration of your stay when you had returned a pendant one of them had dropped after you found it by your door during the confusion. They thanked you profusely as the other members of their team peaked outside the rooms they'd be searching to see the cause of their crewmate's tears.

A few words and hugs of gratitude, plus a few dessert to show how deep their appreciation ran and you thought that would be the end of your tale. You saw them a couple times when you ordered room service - then again when you went out to explore the rest of the resort. One worked behind the register of a gift shop you visited while another escorted you to your seat after you discovered free tickets to a show added on with your purchase of the room. There was always one to cheer you on with whatever recreational actives you indulged in and one to refill your drink.

Even now, as your vacant days drew to a close and you spent one of your final afternoons by the pool your little entourage wasn't far from sight. Two had taken up lawn chairs beside you and politely, but firmly told other guests this area of the pool was closed. Another swam by in a pool float as the last continued to sneak you items in between their stops at other table. Eating one of the snacks they left as hunger lapses your judgement - you shrink into your chair as the two at your shuffle closer.

"Um.... Is there something I can help you with?"

Their eyes grow wide. One mutters in the other's ear, waving the remaining two offer. Joined by their doubles - the four look between themselves and you. They huddle together, whispering to each other and sneaking the occasional glance at you. Ever so often, you hear a soft giggle.

"Are you always that cute?..."

"Or is it just the lighting."

"Your skin looks so soft...."

"Can we touch it?..."

You pull your towel over your legs as the one from the pool reaches out. "... Do you guys do this with all your guests?"

"Course not!"

"You're different - you helped us."

"Nobody ever does that around here - we like you!"

"Wanna keep you safe...."

"Safe? Safe from what?"

The quietest of them gasps, multiple hands shooting over their mouth. The quartet drop their voices to a whisper once more hushed to complete silence as they look at you. Holding a finger to each of their lips, they beckon you closer as they signal to remain quiet.

"Shhhh - not supposed to tell."

"You don't belong here. No human does."

"Boss tries real hard to make this a place for everyone, but not everyone wants that. Demons, angels, others - some don't like mortals treading their territory."

"Cute thing like you would get gobbled right up, but we won't let that happen. You'll our little secret."

Despite the grime tale - the group laugh to themselves at their teammate's final words. Something about the usage of the phrase "ours" tickled their brains. You, on the other hand were having none of it and wrote it off as some fucked prank while recognizing the terror of what it could really be. Examining the identical maids - you notice one of them are wearing name tags.

"Can you at least tell me who you are?"

Pointing at their faces, the group shouts in unison - "Ace!"

"Wait- so you're saying you're all named Ace?"

"Yes!"

Your head throbs. "I.. think I need to go lay down."

"Would you like one of us to carry you?"

"I'll manage, thanks." You squeeze past the maids and towards the elevator. Thay was strange, but you'll be out of here soon as it's not your problem. As soon as you leave, the closest to you pulls out your phone. They all shake hands for a job well done, crowding around your phone.

"Great job, Ace!- That was close."

"You said it Ace. Luckily I was able to watch them unlock their phone a few times so we should have access."

"Oh! Maybe they have more pictures of themselves!"

"Focus. We need to make sure nobody knows where they are.... but it couldn't hurt to check.

The demon in possession of your phone unlocks it on the first try and with the others scours the device for any little detail they could find.

"So cute~ I wanna kiss their cheeks."

"Think Boss will let us keep them?"

"Course they will! We've been good lately, and given all the stuff we do already - we can take care of them better than whatever their old life was like."

"They'll be so happy with us.... Let's go make them a gift basket to welcome them home~ ♡"

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere #yandere oc #Devil casino #The Aces #yandere harem #yandere drabble #yandere demon x reader

1K notes · View notes

celestialwhoree · 2 months

Text

🪐🩷

I write sm of Simon with like super cutie patootie sweet softie gf's and today is not one of those days!! What about Si with a sassy, snarky spitfire of a partner.

He's kind of always thought that he'd want some soft, gentle, domestic partner to offset the general frustration and struggle of his work life. Some bird in a frilly apron to coo and preen at him like a wounded puppy.

And then he meets her.

She's some intelligence officer brought on by Laswell in hopes of attaining information on targets before missions to keep things running that little bit smoother.

She's had to not only survive, but thrive in a cutthroat mans world industry for years, and she takes not one single ounce of shit from anyone.

Price will occasionally (and very much unintentionally) simplify things for her in mission briefings and she just kind of sits there with arms crossed and a raised eyebrow until he gets the memo that he doesn't need to baby her.

She never has to actually go out into the field, so whilst the guys are all training in the gym, she sits and plays games on her phone or reads some smutty romance novels.

She didn't expect to fall flat on her ass for Simon Riley, but something about how quiet and level headed he is makes her very much metaphorically swoon.

He knows it, obviously. He's observant as fuck. He sees the way she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth when she has to crane her neck in order to look up at him, or when he casually helps her with boxes of files and she shifts bashfully from foot to foot, trying not to ogle his biceps.

When they start dating, she's not even afraid of the others finding out because they're too scared of her to tease the two of them.

They move in together and she designates the guest room for all of his man stuff, only to find out that he has like three personal items and some chargers. "The fuck you mean you don't have an ugly PC?! You're a guy?" He's so confused at her confusion until later in their relationships when she tells him that all of her past partners were kind of (major) dicks and that's why she didn't really date anymore, until she met him of course.

She tries really really hard to hide when she cries before he goes off on deployment, and works ten times harder to find useful information that will increase his chance of getting home to her safe.

He buys her really sentimental presents and she tries to hide how touched she is by calling him the softie even though she shamefully piles all of his clothes on the bed with her when he's away because she misses him so much.

She buys him a dog in secret on the same day that he comes home with a cat for her and they just sort of stand there in their front entrance like that Spiderman meme where they all point at each other.

The dog and cat love each other, almost as unlikely a pair as their owners.

She and Simon go into work one day and she's got a unique, delicate little ring on her left ring finger and the guys are like 😦"You got married and didn't invite us?" "No you fucking plebs we got engaged."

Never did anyone think they'd see the day where Simon Riley got engaged and thought about settling down.

They also thought the two of them hated each other until Simon casually is like "Oh, yeah no she and I went to this great place the other night. Good steaks."

650 notes · View notes

adrinktostopyourthirst · 9 months

Text

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Finally

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Spy!Reader

Plot: Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.

Warnings: 18+. Smut, fluff and angst.

Words: 9,1OO

A/N: Recently I’ve been trying to understand what it is people want to read of my works and I have no idea, so here is my brain in scrambled pieces. I'm so sorry it’s so long, I swear it's worth it!

Romania.

It isn’t often you agree to such an extensive trip to meet up with one of your clients, but apparently this particular one can’t be seen in the more supervised countries. Besides, you’ve never been to Bucharest before, so you’re quite enjoying your drink at the small picturesque café.

You’ve done your research and know damn well who you’re meeting up with. A small part of you is screaming at you not to agree to do business with him or back out now, but your curiosity overrules any common sense. Last you heard, Hydra had lost their favourite asset and you can confidently say you were relieved to hear it. It had been a few too many times that specific organisation had made your job more difficult than it had to be.

A many number of things could have happened to the Winter Soldier. He could’ve been killed, corrupted by another organisation, fled to live as a hermit– You really want to know. It’s the spy in you that enjoys knowing the ins and outs of the criminal world. He’d tried not to mention who he is, but you had a few offers on the table, he needed some leverage to get you to agree to meet him. Safe to say, you were surprised he’d told you he was the Winter Soldier. Big chance you will now be the only person to know about the asset’s current whereabouts. That is, if you live to tell it of course…

Every hair in your neck stands up straight, despite the comfortable weather and the easy going crowd roaming the street. The sudden change in atmosphere has your spy senses stand on alert. Your spine stiffens and you causally look around, slightly discouraged at the way your body has never responded to anything in this particular manner.

You cross your legs and turn to look behind you, scanning every face in the crowd. When you turn back, the seat next to yours is taken, only a rickety metal table separating you from the large man sat in the other chair. Your breath halts in your throat and you look him up and down, instantly recognising the buff man as the Winter Soldier. How? You’re not sure, you’d never really seen a picture.

You check his hands. Gloves. With this weather? To cover up. You check his build and take a particularly long time to do so, because God, this man is broad. He’s all sturdy flesh and muscle, firm and casual. His thighs look like tree trunks and you know the man is fast, despite his build. You force the deliberate sweep of your eyes over his body to appear more nonchalant and confident than you feel.

Then your eyes reach his face and the breath gets knocked out of you. There is nothing in that face that hints towards a stone cold killer. Dark blue, deep set eyes, freckles pattered over his nose and cheeks, lips bitten raw from contemplation and an expression on his face that almost looks like… Nerves?

“Hello,” you start carefully, unable to keep your surprise from your tone, but sounding relatively cool to your own relief.

“Hi,” he says and the tone of his voice is deep, but rough, like he hasn’t spoken in ages. You think that maybe he hasn’t.

“Should I refer to you as the Winter Soldier?” you ask, composing your cool nature entirely now. “Or would you say that is a bit on the nose?”

He huffs a laugh and you smile, feeling the overwhelming urge to make him do that again. “James will do, thanks.”

“Alright James,” you say, taking your time to let your mouth get acquainted with his name, “what is it you need my services for?”

“I hear you’re a spy,” he starts and searches your face. “A good one– the best one.”

“Well now, I’d hate to disappoint,” you purr. “What do you need?”

“It’s not so much a document or one piece of information,” he mumbles and his face hardens as he collects himself. You sit upright and frown as you study him. “I need you as a partner for an assignment.”

You instantly shake your head, “Absolutely not. I’m not working for Hydra, that organisation is–”

“Not Hydra,” he quickly cuts in. “Just me. It’s a personal assignment.”

You wait for him to continue, not appreciating his vague communication if he wants to become partners on whatever this is.

He sighs, “I– I have a lot of… gaps. Things I don’t remember, things I can’t quite place. Years of information. The things I did for Hydra– I wasn’t there for most of it. Neither were a lot of people. So I need someone with access to some dark shit to help me figure it out.”

Chewing your lip, you process the information he gives you and empathy clenches your heart together. James gives you the time you need to put the pieces together. You’d heard of Hydra’s experiments with brainwashing and had already sort of assumed some of their soldiers had only worked for them because of that reason, had stayed far away from the organisation’s shit to steer clear from that danger.

But it’s so different to see it in real life, or what is left of it, you suppose. Many things aren’t quite clear to you just yet. However, you slowly start nodding your head. Your brain starts running a million miles an hour, all the gears turning to form a plan, the way you always do before you agree to a job.

“Can you pay me for the service?” you ask, already wondering to yourself if you’d help the clearly hopeless and damaged man for free, and to be honest, just for kicks. The things you’d dig up from everything he’ll give you– Selfishly, you’d kill for it. Anyone would kill for it.

He gives you a tight-lipped, apologetic smile, “Not that much. But I can save up more.”

You think. Your gut tells you he won’t kill you after he gets what he wants, even though he could. And though you will always keep a close eye on him and everything he’s capable of, your gut feeling has never disappointed you.

So you sigh and shake your head. “That’s okay. I’ll do all of it for free, and you can pay me what little you have to insure that I stay quiet. Sound fair?”

His eyes narrow with a twinkle that you hadn’t expected from a man like him and he says, “Deal.”

“Alright,” you say and finish your coffee before clearing your throat. “First order of business: tell me your full name.”

He shakes his head with a faint smile, “James Buchanan Barnes.”

Oh shit.

You do know him.

Germany.

Relief seeps into your bones as you cross the threshold of your building and you slip into your routine of coming home. Tired feet drag you through your building and to your apartment, and muscle memory unlocks your door. After the week you’ve had, you are ready to turn off your brain and settle down.

You enjoy being this tired though, revel in it. Exhausting yourself with a normal person job and the way it puts your usually restless body to sleep at night is exactly what you wanted for your life.

One step into your own hallway, however, makes your daydream of a quiet night in crumble to your feet. Something is off. You can blame your trained senses for being so instantly on edge, but the apartment you just stepped into isn’t a place that has been vacated for the past nine hours. This apartment isn’t empty.

An even older routine settles into your bones this time and you creep into your home on light feet. The air is warm and the space is completely quiet. You’ve been alive long enough, seen enough, to know quiet is never good.

You don’t turn on any lights and let your eyes adjust to the dark. Ears perked and muscles at the ready to spring into action, you slowly make your way further into your home. And when you slip around the corner and look into your darkened living room, you let out a frustrated sigh at the dark figure lounging on your couch.

“How did you find me here,” you grumble and it is hardly a question.

You can feel him sit up and tune in to your presence. You couldn’t explain it if your life depended on it, but you instantly knew who it was. The dark figure in the dark apartment, waiting patiently for someone to catch him. After all, he will deny it until his dying day, but he does have an awful lot of dramatic flair for someone so stoic.

“Better question is: why are you here?” he counters and you drop your bag onto one of your dining chairs, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Trying to stay off the radar, are you?”

“And failing, clearly,” you say before he can say it for you. “How did you find me here, James?”

Your eyes are finally fully adjusted and you see the smirk forming on his face. You haven’t seen that smirk in five years. “I have my ways,” he says and pushes off the couch, adjusting his leather jacket. “Now, what are you doing in this abandoned town?”

“It’s not abandoned,” you counter and slip off your coat, deciding to just go about your old routine and ignore his presence as much as you can. Maybe then he’ll go away.

“It’s a shit town and you know it.” He cocks his head at you, eyes tracking all of your movements.

You notice his puzzled look. He’s genuinely wondering what is left of his old ally and you can’t quite blame him. Perhaps he can easily see your lame attempt at finding a normal life for yourself. He has probably tried a thousand times himself to escape the roaring life of saving the world, has probably failed every time, too. But you’re determined to make it work – make yourself normal and live a full life.

And that is all you were to him anyway, just an ally. The entire time, you’d felt that he paid a little too much attention to you, but you supplied critical information and occasionally wiped someone off the map. A spy. Nothing more, nothing less. However, for the infamous Winter Soldier to need your alliance again, you cannot help but feel wary.

After the first time he approached you, you’d spent months together. It was an effort not to grow too close – too much effort. Because you had. It was impossible not to, helping someone literally piece their life together through intimate and awful memories. Digging through protective walls and coping mechanisms to help him rebuild some of his life again. With a lot of reluctance from both of you.

Yes, you’d grown close then. Grown close enough that you fell asleep slumped over the kitchen counter in his awful Romanian apartment, your face sticking to the countless research papers. You’d woken up hours later on his poorly constructed bed on the floor with a blanket thrown over your frame. Close enough that you’d eventually asked him to assist you on your missions. Ones that required a different skillset than your own. Close enough that you cooked for each other, sometimes shared clothes, roasted one another for the mental health issues that lead you both to your current occupations.

After a while, you couldn’t describe your relation to Barnes in any other way than a partnership. Partners. Who had kissed once. Maybe twice. After some bad Vodka.

You sigh and turn to him, “Why are you here, James?”

“I need to lay low for a while.” A wider smirk, his eyes narrowing at you. “I remembered I know someone who is very good at that.”

“Careful,” you warn and roll your eyes. “You just gave me a compliment.”

His smirk turns to a smile and he shrugs off his own jacket, instantly making himself at home in your apartment. A strange thing when it comes to Bucky, since you don’t recall that man feeling at home anywhere. Then, he did always have this incessant cocky streak around you and he is awfully good at getting on your nerves, so he probably sees the perfect opportunity to be a pain in the ass.

“If you so much as sneeze on anything, I swear–”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts in, his tone unimpressed. “You’ll skin me alive. You’re always so weird about your stuff.”

You give him a tiny proud smile and decide to make yourself something quick to eat, only to feel him peer at you from the edge of your kitchen. He’s met with a confused frown before you raise your brows at him to make him spit it out.

“What’s the catch?” he asks warily.

You smile and look down at the sandwich you’re making. “Nothing. Just fix your shit and get out of my hair as quickly as possible.”

He winces slightly and you turn to him fully now, slowly taking a bite.

“What.”

Bucky sucks in a short breath and gives you an apologetic look before he speaks, “It might be a while…”

Your brows drop, “What did you do?”

“Nothing, I–”

“Bucky.” You cut him another look, one shaped by many, many instances of working together. “What. Did. You. Do.”

“It’s not important. I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

You open your mouth to continue arguing with him, but decide against it, already done with his shit. Yes, he is doing better and supposedly now qualifies as a good person. But you know the man before you and the soldier cannot stop himself from lying about pretty much everything. He has damaged tendencies. Give him an inch and he will take a mile, show him a weakness and he will exploit it. You genuinely think he doesn’t know how to be different, how to not abuse those effortless skills he trained all those years working for Hydra and surviving it.

“It’s my weekend off,” you tell him instead. “If you get between me and my plans, I will change the locks.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “You think I can’t get through a simple lock?”

Another glare is his answer and he raises his hands in surrender. You walk around him and toe off your own shoes, grabbing everything to take a shower as you shove the rest of your sandwich in your mouth. Bucky slowly strolls through your place and examines everything that belongs to you.

“Can you not pretend like you haven’t completely scanned the place already before I got home?” you ask him as you make way for the bathroom.

“It can’t hurt to have a second look,” he mumbles, but you have already closed the door and move take the shower you’ve been looking forward to the entire day.

You should probably work harder to get him out, should probably make an escape plan and move somewhere else. But you know arguing with him is futile and the best approach with him is to patiently wait for him to move on. Bucky doesn’t get attached and doesn’t nest, so he’ll be gone soon enough.

As the scolding water trickles down your scalp and spine, you realise how much more alert you should have been when you noticed someone was in your home. Especially with all of those loose ends and enemies you have scattered across this planet (and others). Yet, somehow you think your body knew it was Bucky waiting for you. After all, it isn’t the first time he’s pulled this shit, waiting up for you. Usually because you kept something from him, he found out and would start ambushing you to fess up.

And even though technically, you haven’t exactly kept anything from him this time, you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that explaining your current situation will be the hardest thing to ever speak up about. How pathetic, to try and live a normal life when you’re ‘extraordinary’. Ugh, you hate that word. You’re trained well and you refuse to be anything but good at what you put your mind at.

Now, Bucky. He is extraordinary. He has potential to make a difference. You have always felt that. Hated working with him because of that. Not because of him – he never made you feel less than him at all. But–

The water turns cold and you groan audibly, time having slipped away from you as you got lost in thought. Stepping out and drying yourself off, you get ready to walk out of the bathroom. You’re met with Bucky sitting on your couch, reading one of your books.

“Let me guess, warm water’s gone?” he asks, not looking up from the book.

You walk to your bedroom and shrug, “Cold showers are good for you, I heard.”

“I suppose I’ll take the couch then?” he asks, finally looking up from the book.

You turn back and peek through your doorway at him. “You can take the floor if that’s more comfortable for you.”

“We’ve shared a bed before.”

“Not by choice.”

He smirks, “You liked it.”

“You snore.”

“Sleep tight, sweetheart.” He grins at you.

You make to get to bed when you pause and turn back to him once more with a slight frown. “Why are you so cheerful? Aren’t there people after you?”

“Well,” he says, casual as always, “these may very well be my last days, so I might as well be in a good mood.”

You find yourself swallowing hard and desperately search his face for any intel on how true his statement is, without giving away that you might just care a little bit about his well-being. But his grin stays firm in place and he raises his brows in wait for you to call it a night.

Without another word, you close the door between you and crawl into your comfortable bed. And you wonder why it is that you can’t quite get comfortable this time.

…

A powerful jolt rips through your body as you lift out of layers of sleep. You’re too tired for whatever made you wake up so suddenly. It’s too goddamn late for this shit.

But as you gain more and more of your consciousness, your senses start perking up and you realise you might very well be in danger. The gentle and calm voice calling your name with a warm stroke of a hand down your arm, confirms that for you. That specific type of calm in Bucky’s voice sends your body into overdrive.

“We’ve got to go, sweetheart,” he murmurs and is already throwing clothes onto your bed. “Now.”

You sit up and rub your eyes and it dawns on you after a week of Bucky staying at your place. This man wasn’t going to leave you until he got chased out of your apartment. And that day has come.

“Bucky,” you start with a hoarse voice as you climb out of your warm bed and quickly throw on the clothes he picked for you, “who the fuck is after you?”

He takes his time to answer, pulling two fully packed backpacks from the corner of your room that you surprisingly didn’t know he hid there. Oh, this man is going to get an ear full about this bullshit.

“Some weird underground cartel that deals in tech or something,” he grumbles and throws you a pack. You are nearly too slow to catch it before you sling it onto your back. You gape at him after his answer and his face stays solemn as he pushes a hand gun into your hands. “Let’s go.”

“Bucky.”

He stops and turns to you fully. “It’s bad, okay? I’ll tell you later.”

“No. Tell me now.”

He groans out your name, peeking outside while he impatiently chews on his lip. “Don’t do this right now. You can be pissed at me later!”

“I will be pissed at you now,” you seethe, “and later. How about that?!”

He sighs and then grabs your arm, giving you a boyish grin before shooting two bullets through your window, breaking the glass, slinging an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him and jumping out of the fucking window with you clinging to him. It’s only when you fly about five stories down, that you realise the two of you are attached to a bungee rope that eases your descent. His feet touch the ground first, yours following. He cuts the rope and grabs your hand before he starts running towards the parking lot beneath your building.

“Bucky, you piece of shit!” you yell at him as you run, hearing the faint sound of gun fire behind you over the sound of your ragged breathing.

“I’ll make it up to you!” he simply yells back.

You can hear the smile in his voice. And the worst thing? You feel yourself smiling as well when you realise how easily you’ve slipped back into being his partner in crime.

…

Bucky checks one more time, his gleaming metal hand pulling the sheer curtain aside to peer out onto the dark streets. You hear some shouting coming from outside and still feel your heart pounding, even when you know you have definitely outrun those people coming after you. You hate how out of practice you are. And how much you missed the adrenaline of being on the run with Bucky.

He turns back to you and finds you with your arms crossed, glaring at him. Oh, you know the perfect way to let out this adrenaline. There might be actual steam coming out of your ears.

Bucky cringes and slowly strolls over, already reaching out his hands to use his irresistible charm on you. Like the time he dropped the cake you made one afternoon and tried to make it up to you. Or that time he left some very important documents in one of the buildings he set on fire. Or the time he accidentally deleted your recordings off the TV when you had been looking forward to watching the next episode for two weeks.

However, your burning eyes stop him dead in his tracks and he opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it and closes his mouth again. A second later, he tries again, “Okay. Give it to me.”

You give him a satisfied, albeit sadistic smile, at his willingness to take your scolding and then, you start yelling. You have no idea what words specifically are rolling off your tongue, but your speech starts somewhere during that first meeting in Bucharest, drifts to your entire time together as partners, how you drifted apart, only for him to show up whenever he pleased, and you continue to how he stood at your door a little over a week ago, to him terrorising your happy little life in Germany… To now.

Your voice rises with every instance you tell him about, fire burning in your core and hands flailing to give your story that much more power (even though you couldn’t stop your conviction if you tried). As the grin on his face grows through your rambling, a metal hand pressing to his lips to stop it from showing too much, you burn even brighter with fury.

Then you stop, breathing heavily. You give him a withering look to get him to start speaking up, because let’s be honest, all the two of you really needed was only just a look.

His shoulders slowly stop shaking and he drops his hand, eyes sparkling like a glass of Prosecco in the light. Devious asshole. “I just– I haven’t seen you this alive in a while. It looks fantastic on you.”

You gape at him like a fish and you wonder if the warmth in your face still belongs to your anger. Though you fear it belongs to quite the opposite. Either way, this man certainly knows how to make you passionate. And you realise he knows what you have been trying to do with your fake little life here in Germany.

“I don’t think you–”

“I’m sorry,” he says and steps forward, his large hands cupping your face as he looks down at you with earnest eyes. “I’m sorry for making your life so goddamn miserable. So tell me how to make it up to you.”

And for all the world, you can tell he means it. Can tell that he will do anything to make it up to you. You can almost feel the squeeze of pain in your own heart when you see the disappointment in his eyes after he realises you didn’t enjoy this as much as he had.

But the worst part is, is that you did. You’ve never felt more alive than with him. Never felt more like you. You wouldn’t necessarily call him an adventurer, maybe he is just a magnet for trouble. But whenever you’re with Bucky, you’ll drop anything for him and you’ll burn like an inferno doing so. He makes you into the best version of yourself and he makes you love the parts about yourself that you have been conditioned to feel guilty about.

You sigh, “I don’t know. Never mind.”

He doesn’t let go though and searches your eyes, his own narrowing in suspicion. “I’m going to make it up to you, you know.”

You cross your arms and give him an unimpressed look. “Yeah? How?”

He smirks and your knees weaken. “I could kiss it better.”

“Shameless flirt,” you huff and roll your eyes as an excuse to break his intense stare on you.

“You’re just too proud to admit that my kisses would make you forgive me,” he prods and your eyes snap back to his. He’s right, that is pride surging in your chest to lunge at him.

“You’ve grown too cocky for your own good,” you sneer at him.

“You like it.”

“I assure you, I don’t.”

“Liar.”

“Manipulator.”

He feigns hurt, “Ouch.”

You huff a laugh with a roll of your eyes, “Such a fragile ego.”

He smirks again and you swallow as you fight to look at his lips. So close to your own. “Now you have to kiss me for forgiveness.”

You can’t help but truly laugh this time, your face still safely tucked in his palms and his brows raise with intrigue at the sound of your laughter.

You tell him, “You are so full of shit.”

His smile fades, his eyes large with earnest and all of a sudden, it’s the man standing before you that sat next to you in that Romanian café. Stripped down, bare, rough, and perhaps a bit vulnerable.

“Let me kiss you,” he says in merely a whisper now.

You fight for your life not to falter to that genuine request and the way he said it. “It won’t make me forgive you,” you say softly, but barely hear your own voice over the increased pounding of your heart in your throat.

“I don’t care,” he murmurs. “Just want to kiss you.”

He doesn’t wait for your permission either, because quite frankly, you most likely gave him a look of permission instantly at that request. His soft lips slot over yours and you could’ve never predicted the depraved moan that resounded in the back of your throat as your mouths meet. Your hands instantly slip into his hair as Bucky’s hands slide around your waist to pull you closer, fingers digging into your flesh possessively.

The kiss deepens when his tongue meets yours and he lets out a groan of his own, a sound so addicting that you instinctively tug on his hair to hear it again. The laugh against your lips is rough as he hauls you closer and changes the kiss. Something more desperate and impatient. Something hot and sweaty and slightly messy. You might be walking as Bucky finds something to press you up against or lay you down on, and you almost squawk in surprise as you fall back onto the double, motel bed.

Though before you can say anything else, Bucky is on you again, his mouth demanding and greedy against yours. His hands feel and grab and squeeze every inch of you and you grind your hips upward for his weight. You want his heaviness between your hips and on your stomach and against your chest.

Growing impatient, convinced that Bucky’s brain might no longer be working, you lock your ankles around his hips and pull him down between your legs, sighing a groan of relief at the feeling of him tucked against you so warmly.

“God dammit,” he grunts and gives one luxurious roll of his hips against yours, making you whine as your pulse hammers down in your core.

His mouth grazes against your neck now and you can hardly breathe, panting as if you’ve run a marathon. The pressure between your hips leaves as he moves further down and you buck your hips at the ache he leaves.

“Bucky,” you whimper and look down, heart slamming in your throat at the sight of him. He messily yet gently makes his way down your body. Hands roughly pushing up your shirt as his lips find the plane of your stomach, kissing from your bra, down to your hips that you can’t seem to keep still.

Your body feels so heavy, yet so light without him on top of you and you can’t remember any moment before this kiss. Before five minutes ago. Everything is solidified. Your entire history with him. And Bucky presses a kiss just below your navel that confirms that feeling, his hands peeling off your jeans. That is until he speaks.

“Listen to me,” he orders and you freeze at the sound of him. He’s only sounded like that during missions where either of you might die. So serious and detrimental. “Don’t ever try to build a life without me again.”

“Bucky–”

“No,” he snaps and you close your mouth. “Don’t ever pretend like we don’t exist. Like you and I aren’t supposed to do this shit together, like you are better off without me, like I am better off without you. That’s bullshit.” You give him a questioning look. Where is this coming from? “I’m going to kiss you and you are going to forgive me. And then I am going to kiss you some more.”

He waits then. For you to answer, to process what it is he is saying exactly. It’s a lot of words with a lot of meaning, yet you’re not sure if this is the declaration you didn’t know you were waiting for.

So you speak from your gut and let out a breath, “Finally.”

Bucky smiles at that and surges upward, clearly happy with that intuitive answer. His lips claim yours once again and then you feel his fingers inching up your thigh.

You whine softly against his lips and you feel him smile as his fingers reach your drenched core. Two fingers slip through your folds to explore your wetness and Bucky drops his head into the crook of you neck.

“Finally indeed,” he breathes and slips his middle finger into you, making you whimper and buck your hips.

The stretch against your swollen walls sends an ache through your abdomen that cries out for more. You cannot explain the desperation to have him, to have every empty pit of you filled with his essence. His finger curls up and you throw your head back, making Bucky raise his own head to look at you.

“There?”

You nod frantically and Bucky pushes in another finger, making you tense up around him. He curls that one too and you don’t recognise the sound spilling from your lips. You’re already so fucking full.

As Bucky teasingly darts his thumb over your swollen clit, he traces his tongue over your mouth and you gasp for air at the sensation.

“Bucky, fuck!” you cry and he pushes his mouth to yours in a claiming kiss, his fingers moving faster as his thumb rotates over your clit. You can barely kiss him back, overtaken by pleasure as he pumps his fingers over and over until you can hear your wetness surround his sinful fingers.

It is by far the hottest thing you have ever experienced. So much time has passed and now this beast of a man who tries everything to make you blush with his flirty persona, is bent over you with his fingers peeling your pleasure to the surface like his own fucking release depends on it.

His chest is heaving from watching you, brows pulled together, eyes dark as they rake over you hungrily, muscles flexing as his hand disappears between your legs.

His leg slips beneath your knee and pulls your leg up to finger you in a different angle and your nails bury themselves in the muscles of Bucky’s neck, abdomen flexing at the wave of pleasure that courses through you. “More. Oh my God, more!”

“I know, I can feel it,” he grunts and slows his fingers. “But I’ve waited ages for this. I refuse to let it be over so soon.”

Your brain is nothing but cinders and you shake your head violently, “No! No, please. You can have everything, just let me come. Please.”

Bucky pecks your lips. Once. Twice.

“You want to come all over my hand, pretty girl?” he murmurs in your ear and you can only gasp at the press of his fingers against your spot. “Can I lick you up after?”

You clench around him like a vice, his low voice making you drip onto his palm, his words incinerating what is left of your pride. You can only nod, so you do. And his hand starts moving again. Faster, deeper, more thorough. You keep nodding, your moans raising, your pleasure retreating like a snake ready to strike. Oh God, oh God, oh God–

“Come.”

Your hips fly to the ceiling when you come, thighs trembling and closing around his hand. Bucky keeps moving and thrusting and curling until he has wrung all of your pleasure from your body and you feel like you’re made of jelly. Your voice is hoarse from yelling your release and the sheets below are drenched with your desire.

Soft kisses are pressed to your face and that is how you return from whatever plane of existence you went to. His gentle laugh makes you shiver and you open your eyes to find him licking his fingers like there is caramel dripping from them. You swallow hard and zero in on that action, making his eyes sparkle.

But something changes when you reach up to stroke his hair and his eyes flutter. Your eyes rove over his face in admiration and your entire soul sighs at the sight of him. Bucky looks down at you curiously and cocks his head.

“What is it?” he asks and you chew your lip, trying to find the words.

“You and me, huh?” you murmur with something like wonder in your voice. Bucky can only nod. You continue, “Who would’ve thought…”

Bucky leans down and kisses you. Soft, slow, deep. It makes your body sing. And he shuffles back to make himself at home between your legs. Though as he does that, he remains his focus on kissing you. Deeper, more, desperate. Depraved. He moans and breathes and you swear you hear him whimper, his hips grinding over your oversensitive cunt as he gets lost in kissing you.

Raking your nails over his scalp, you once again wrap your legs around his hips and pull him down. And if Bucky hadn’t snapped his leash just yet, this does it. He turns wild and passionate and heavy. One hand of his and one hand of your own both reach down, messily working together to get rid of his jeans. He shimmies out of them, not bothering to get rid of them entirely, but bothering to at least take off his shirt.

Your fingers drag down his pecks and abdomen, trying to memorise every curve and edge with what little brain capacity you have left. You feel like no more than a flame, no more than passion and want and need. And when Bucky slides his bare cock through your folds to slicken himself, you shudder so violently, your breath shudders with it.

“Woman, you are going to kill me,” he breathes and nips at your lips.

You almost growl with impatience, “Then fuck me and die already.”

He laughs, bold and happy, before thrusting into you in a long stroke. Home. Oh fuck, he’s home. Both of you freeze, taking in the moment of being fused together before he slowly pulls out and out and out. And sliding back in with an agonizing thrust.

Something in you clicks. Something so vital, so necessary. And Bucky feels it too.

“Yes,” he groans and presses another kiss to your lips, like he can’t get enough. “This is it.”

You nod and close your eyes in pleasure. In relief. You shudder with emotion and clamp onto him. Bucky keeps pressing kisses to your skin. Your neck, your lips, your cheek, temple, forehead.

“This is it,” you choke out and Bucky smiles. “You’re it.”

Bucky breathes a sigh, as if he’s been waiting ages for you to admit it. “Finally.”

Infinity War.

Biting your lip and bouncing your leg, you try to let the rumble of the swift jet calm your nerves. Your eyes search the cabin and go over the confusing screens for the thousandth time.

“Nervous?” Natasha’s sensual voice sounds next to you and you force a smile.

“Why would I be nervous?” you ask and smirk at her. “We’re only stepping into a war with the probability of us winning being like…” Zero? Less than zero? You sigh, “I don’t want to think about that.”

She bites back her own smirk and raises her eyebrows. “Wasn’t talking about the war. Are you nervous about seeing him?”

Bucky.

You glare at her after quickly glancing around to see if anyone heard her, making Natasha try even harder to hold back a smile.

Yes, you were nervous to see him. So much had happened. So many aspects of your spy work had suddenly intermingled and now you are fighting along with the Avengers. Even after you were sure they had torn themselves apart over Bucky. Being caught in the middle of that had put you and Bucky’s relationship –if you could even call it that– so far to the back of both your minds, you barely had time to mention it to anyone until Steve shipped him off to Wakanda to get some real help.

You and Bucky were over before it even started and you think that maybe it’s for the better. Neither you nor Bucky are any good at that relationship shit anyway. It showed over and over.

Luckily enough, you’d found plenty of distraction being on the run with Sam, Natasha and Steve. No Bucky in sight, but knowing he was safe and taken care of. Private mission after mission with other people you cared about, people who didn’t know about you and Bucky, one of them eager to forget about Bucky himself.

You barely gave it any thought.

Except you thought of Bucky every day.

And now you get to see him again. However, if any time would make you reconsider any commitment at all, it would be now.

“No,” you answer and then turn serious. “I mean, I was. But now I’m just preparing myself for either grief, or death.”

“Are those our only options?” she asks with a displeased frown. “Why not prepare for victory or somethin’?”

Giving her a long and hard stare, you sigh deeply. “Yeah. You’re right. If I die, I might as well die hopeful.”

“That’s my girl,” she grins and you bump her shoulder with yours, finding your own smile breaking through.

That’s when Steve gives Sam the coordinates to fly through a barrier and show you the hidden – and beautiful – kingdom of Wakanda. So you ignore every jittery feeling you have in your stomach at possibly seeing Barnes again, and you channel it all into hope.

…

Natasha strokes her hand over your shoulder as you walk up to king T’Challa, who’s flanked by his closest guard and a palace that screams to get you on your knees to worship. You barely hear the conversation the king has with Steve, partly because you’re still in awe of the beautiful place around you.

Now this, this is a refuge.

“How are we lookin’?” Natasha asks from next to you and that’s when you start to pay attention. You’d need a hell of a lot of man-power to win this.

“You will have my Kings Guard,” T’Challa starts, “the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and…”

“A semi-stable hundred-year-old man,” finishes a voice that makes your entire system dysregulate. Oh God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard the warm timber of that voice.

You notice your hands have started shaking and clutch them behind your back, squeezing courage out of them to face your past, as Bucky Barnes walks up to hug Captain America.

“How’ve you been, Buck?” Steve asks and Bucky answers with a heart-stopping smile.

“Uh, not bad,” he answers, “for the end of the world.”

They share another warm look before Steve turns to everyone behind him and then to the king, “Should we prepare?”

A few minutes later, you’re following the king inside with all of his closest guards and your own team, which now includes Bucky. Focusing your eyes on everything around you, you barely notice the large hand slipping around your elbow and pulling you into another hallway.

You know better than to scream for help and you use the momentum to swing the person around and pin them to the nearest wall with a knife to their throat. But the air rushes from you when you stand face to face with Bucky.

“There she is,” he grins and slowly raises his hands in surrender.

You back away slowly and look at him like a gaping fish, your insides pounding and swirling and thrashing as your body heats with adrenaline. It’s him, it’s him, it’s him.

“New arm?” you ask him, your voice coming out surprisingly steady, and he glances at the appendage, flexing his hand between your faces.

“Yeah, you like it?” he asks and he almost sounds like a young boy, genuinely interested in what you think of it, of him.

And you calm. Everything inside of you settles and the heat turns to warmth. Your insides seem to melt with relief and you throw your arms around his neck, almost tipping over until Bucky’s arms automatically slide around your waist to pull your pliant body tightly against his. He’s so big and strong and warm.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughs softly and one hand starts to stroke your hair gently as you huff out a sob into his neck. “Oh, sweet girl. You’ve never been sad to see me before.”

You finally pull back and cup his face as he lets you survey him closely, him grinning widely at the worry in your every feature. You breathe, “You’re good. You’re safe.”

He nods and takes your hands, pressing a kiss to your palm. “So are you,” he whispers and you nod.

“Not for long,” you add, deflated.

He gives you a sad smile. “Now, who would we be if we didn’t go down fighting, hm?”

You smile slightly at that. “Back on the same team.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and the planet stops turning.

“Finally.”

The Blip.

Another knock sounds and you roll your eyes, throwing on a quick cardigan as you hop over to your door. Unusual, for your quiet, lonely evenings to get interrupted like this. You’re ready to cash in what you can only assume is some complaining neighbour or your awful land lord when you open the door and are met with a familiar face that makes your heart squeeze together.

“Steve,” you breathe.

“Hey.”

You step aside to let him in and take a deep breath.

“Want something to drink?” you ask as you close the door behind him and let him venture into your home. Or, whatever you have tried to turn into your home. It had never been more than the latest home trends and some empty picture frames.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I found you?” he asks and you get a feeling of déjà vu.

But you shake your head with a forced smile, “I left a trace for Natasha to track for emergencies. I know how you found me.” You give him a pointed look and Steve actually has the decency to look slightly apologetic.

That look tells you enough about how much of an emergency this is and you wonder what prompted Natasha to decipher your code and hand your location to the Captain. Maybe he was the one breaking and could use a familiar face. Maybe something turned him awfully worried about you. Maybe-

No.

“Aren’t you mad that Natasha told me?” he asks unsurely and you give him a tight-lipped smile, taking a seat in one of your dining table chairs and ushering for him to do so as well.

“Would you believe me if I said that it’s actually quite nice to see a familiar face after five pretty lonely years?” you refute and he gives you a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you, too, Kid.”

A comfortable silence settles between you two and you fidget with your hands, staring at them intently before raising your face back to Steve. “Why are you here, Cap?”

He lets out a long sigh. “Ever since the Blip,” he starts and you can feel him debating whether to continue, “I never– I didn’t get to tell you how sorry I am about Bucky.”

You freeze and slowly turn your gaze to him. “Okay. Now I am pissed at her.”

“Natasha didn’t tell me,” he quickly assures and you raise a brow at him. “He did.”

You fall quiet at that. “Bucky told you about…”

“What,” he laughs. “Didn’t think you two were serious enough for him to tell his best friend about it?”

You reply with a humourless laugh of your own. “He um– He wasn’t a very committing guy. And I don’t blame him. Why commit to something if you might lose everything all over again?”

The pity in Steve’s gaze feels burning to your skin. “Well, if you’re that scared of losing something, it might be worth committing to,” he says and you find yourself agreeing with the wise bastard.

“Well, I committed and look where I am now,” you huff. “Turns out, he was right all along.”

“Kid–”

“Why are you here, Cap?” you try again, all of a sudden too eager to get rid of him.

It takes a while for him to answer and dread settles low in your belly. When he starts talking, you’ve already started shaking your head. “We have found a way to bring them all back.”

You still. And you stay like that. Seconds. Minutes. Maybe another five years have passed.

“Did you hear what I said?” he tries.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. We figured out a way. Time travel.”

You bark a laugh and give him a pointed glare. However, your vision is already slightly impaired by the tears pooling at your waterline. “Don’t,” you stop him before he continues elaborating. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this in the past five years? That you, or Nat, or even Tony fucking Stark himself would stand at my door and tell me we figured it out? About a million times, Cap. And the more normal this delusional scenario became in my head, the more absurd it seemed to be. And now, you expect me to just believe that nearly five years on the dot, you have figured out a way to return everything to normal?!”

Steve can take it, the sudden outburst of your disbelief. He has definitely encountered a whole lot more scepticism in his life. But his heart breaks a little for you. Bucky had tried to be so casual when he finally told Steve about you, but Steve had caught the sparkle in those hundred-year-old eyes and he couldn’t describe the relief of Bucky having found someone, let alone you.

But now, to see you so far removed from Bucky – from hope. He hates it.

“I waited,” he almost whispers. “Until I was completely sure. We need you for this.”

You blink away your tears and one rolls down your cheek. Steve quickly reaches to catch it and cups your face. A touch normally so very unwelcome, but now you cannot help but bury your face in his palm.

“You’re sure?” you ask, voice breaking.

Steve pulls you in and up to his chest, engulfing you in a tight hug. “Time to bring our best friend back, Kid.”

Time Travel.

You cannot help but smile when you see the handsome brainiac hunched over a laptop near some high-tech stage that you can’t seem to look at too long without talking yourself out of this.

“Hey, Tony,” you say quietly as you walk up and his brown eyes light up when he hears your voice. Stepping away from the screen, he opens his arms wide and pulls you into a tight hug. Another comfortable embrace that you can only breathe in and cherish.

“My favourite spy,” he murmurs and pulls back.

“How are you doing?” you ask him.

He gives you a knowing look. “Oh, you know. Good. Until he showed up,” he sneers with a pointed look at Steve, who simply rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he has a way of interrupting peace.”

Tony snorts. “Now that, is what I call a paradox.”

You laugh and pat his shoulder, “Pepper and Morgan?”

“They’re wonderful.” He grins, but you can see the fear shining in his eyes and you give his shoulder a firm squeeze.

“Thank you for doing this, Tony.”

He smirks in answer. “I swear, if you and Barnes don’t openly kiss after all I am about to sacrifice, I will find the stones and undo both of your existences.”

You shoot a thunderous glare to Steve, and to Natasha who is walking up behind the Captain. But Tony stops you before you can scold them on their horrible secret-keeping skills, “Pepper told me.”

You grit your teeth.

The Avengers are a bunch of gossips.

The Endgame.

You stumble backward, your sprained ankle and broken ribs somehow only a faint ache over the sight before you. You almost trip over debris, or a body, or just air and you keep blinking to see better or to make it all go away, you don’t know.

He did it. Tony did it. You’re sure you can still feel the snap of his fingers vibrate through your spine. And there he is. Slumped against more debris, half of his face cracked like burnt coal, his suit barely reflecting its original colours. The blue light at the centre of his chest is fading, shuttering and then… it goes dark. With Pepper’s hand over it.

Your own hand barely muffles the sob trying to break through and you stumble over and over again as you back away from that horrible, awful reality. He did it. But at what cost?

You turn around and start jogging. How? You’re not sure. Your body is in no state to hurry. But it’s incomplete. You were barely strong or extraordinary enough to be of any help during the fight, but you tried your best. Helping people in the field, some war medic patching up gushing wounds. You’d cashed some punches and kicks yourself. Dealt them, too.

It was all because you needed to be there. Because you needed to stay alive. Needed to stick around to see him again. And now… Now… You barely survived this, barely made it through. And Tony died. Tony Stark. The chance of him still being out there-

You start running faster. Hobbling and grunting from the pain.

“Bucky,” you voice is raw and frantic, it’s barely a sound as you cry out for him. “Bucky! Bucky!”

Head swinging from side to side, you hope the soldier reveals himself from behind one of the plumes of smoke. Further and further away, you flee from the horrifying scene of whatever is left after Thanos. You need to find him, but you can’t identify anything on this war ground.

If he’s dead. If Bucky is dead–

Your head whips around so fast, your neck might crack, when you’re sure you hear your name. Everything about you goes quiet and you hold your breath like it will make any difference. Slowly, you walk in the direction where you assume the sound came from, but you almost cringe at the idea that you might just be going insane. After all those explosions, your hearing can’t possibly be this sharp.

Though perhaps intuition is at play here, because you’ve always been able to feel him. Always knew it when it was him waiting up for you, or looking for you, or needing you.

“Bucky,” you croak again.

“Here…” It’s so quiet. But you hear it over everything else and follow the echo of the sound.

“Bucky,” you rasp out. “I’m coming!”

And there he is. On hands and knees, struggling to get up. You can only describe your approach as a dive, as you clash onto your wobbly knees and wrap your arms around him. His body instantly stops struggling and falls into your rib cage.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

“Yeah,” he groans. “’M right here.”

You had no idea you were sobbing it to him, but you don’t care as your hands grapple for a better hold of him. He does the same until both of you are kneeling in front of each other, cupping each others’ faces to check for injuries.

“You look pretty all roughed up,” he mutters and you smile through your tears.

“You look awful,” you reply and he chuckles before pulling you into his chest. “But you’re home.”

He shudders and you might actually hear him let out a sob of his own as he tightens his grip on you.

“Finally.”

#SLOW BURNNNN #I looove their dynamic okay #lots of dialogue which we all love #some action and fluff and passion adn efgedksbf i love them ok?!#PLease tell me what you think and if this is maybe too long...#it's a bit intimidating i get that but it's an easy read i promise #ok i love you guys #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #writing #bucky barnes fluff

2K notes · View notes