#this is me wanting to dig deep into buck's brain in that scene cause his face was devastating enough and all BUT i need to know more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captainsassmanes · 3 years

Text

Here’s my Malex remix gift for @cosmicclownboy! I took a little bit of your meta, some of the small things you like (Alex + leather, yes please!) and created this drabble. I hope you enjoy :)

Open Up My Eager Eyes

“You’re either cruel, stupid or a bit of both.”

Michael huffed out an unamused laugh and rolled his eyes as he brought the rim of his beer glass to his lips. Kyle didn’t move, his smirk and raised eyebrow still perfectly in place.

“Not that I give a shit but,” Michael sighed and turned in his seat, “what exactly are you talking about?”

Contrary to what was probably popular opinion, Michael wasn’t stupid. He was well aware that the only time he and Kyle exchanged more than a passing nod, the topic was always the same.

Alex.

“There’s no way,” Kyle said leaning against the bar top, his bicep flexing in his perfectly fitting denim jacket, “that you haven’t noticed what Alex has been doing.”

Michael smirked and shrugged, helpless against the urge to rile Kyle up. “What’s he been doing, Doc?”

Shaking his head, Kyle threw back the rest of his beer, smacking his lips before standing and tossing a few bucks on the bar.

“Alex has been sad and lonely for way too long. You and I both know the man’s incredible and deserves the best so,” Kyle smiled as he pulled out his keys. “Tomorrow night, Isobel and I are taking him to Planet 7.”

Michael’s façade fell with no hope of keeping it in place. His cheeks paled and he swallowed past the panic rising in his throat. If the smile on Kyle’s face was any indicator, he knew his words had hit their target.

“He might not find Mr. Right at the club but Mr. Good Enough for Tonight will probably be there.” He clapped Michael on the shoulder before heading out the door, arrogant swagger followed like a cloud.

Michael was frozen, brain sifting through too many thoughts at once. Why was this always happening? Why were they always on two different paths when he was so desperate to be right next to Alex? He figured he’d had time after Alex and Forrest fizzled out, do the awkward acquaintance thing then move into friendship then -

“If I were you-”

“Jesus Christ!” Michael jumped, hand moving to his chest as he caught his breath. He was so lost in his own thoughts he didn’t notice when Rosa had taken the seat next to him.

She just laughed. “If I were you, cowboy, I’d show up at the club and tell him how I felt.”

“How I’m – “

“We all know you’ve been in love with each other forever. You’re just too stubborn to deal with your shit and communicate. You people keep claiming to be adults, but I just see one idiot after another.”

“Ouch,” Michael chuckled, giving Rosa a playful push. He sighed, pulling on his hat and digging out a few bucks. “I’ve messed up so many times for so many years. I guess, if I were him, I’d probably tell me to fuck off.”

“Nah,” Rosa stood, heading back to her friends. “Just be honest. Talk, for god’s sake.” She put her fingers to her lips and then shoved her kiss aggressively against Michael’s cheek with a wink.

Talk, Michael thought. Easier said than done.

***********

It took Michael longer to get ready than he’d planned. No one seemed to realize it, but it took a considerable amount of time and effort to get his curls to fall just the right way. He showered, shaved, fixed his hair and tried on every shirt he owned. Ultimately, he went with his usual style: jeans, clean white t-shirt and a relatively new purple, long-sleeved flannel.

The night air was cool, whipping his hair in front of his eyes as he drove to the club. In his many years living in Roswell, Michael never visited Planet 7. He didn’t know why. He certainly wasn’t ashamed of his sexuality, though he wasn’t walking around with a pride pin on his chest, either.

There was a first time for everything.

He parked the truck and took a few deep breaths, tapping nervously against the steering wheel. Michael watched as more than a few very attractive people walked in and out of the door. He’d been so focused on the environment, how he’d fit into the club, what he’d say to Alex, that he forgot Alex would be here, looking gorgeous he had no doubt, surrounded by other gorgeous, and horny, people.

“Just be honest. Just talk.” Michael repeated his new mantra to himself as he walked into the noise and flashing lights. He did his best to kiss the wall, wanting to survey the scene before diving right in. He’d planned an entire speech for Alex, practicing parts of it over and over again in his tiny mirror while he fought with his hair. Michael found the bar and ordered himself a beer, nodding politely at the blonde with the bright smile who handed him the bottle.

Across the room, highlighted in shades of pink and purple from the lights, Alex sat at a table by himself. He had a small smile on his face though Michael could tell, even from so far away, that it was laced with sadness. He followed Alex’s eyes and watched as Isobel and Kyle danced drunkenly with a small group, laughing and smiling, hands and drinks everywhere. Kyle waved Alex over, trying to get him to join in, but Alex just smiled wider and shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

He looked stunning. Alex’s hair had gotten long and he’d let some facial hair grow around his perfect mouth. A blue t-shirt emphasized the shape of his chest and his arms and, Michael noticed with a flush to his cheeks, a leather jacket was thrown carefully over the back of his chair.

He shouldn’t be alone, Michael’s brain supplied as he felt a wave of confidence and a pure need he had been ignoring for too long.

Moving across the dance floor, Michael did his best to move between the sweaty, dancing bodies, his eyes never leaving Alex. He stood in front of Alex, whose eyes lifted, and jaw slightly dropped. Michael offered his hand with a serious look on his face.

“Dance with me.”

Alex placed his drink on the table and slid his hand into Michael’s, strong hands holding one another. They found their own space, as far from the crowd as they could go, as a slower song played through the speakers. Michael slid his arm around Alex’s back, fingers finding bare skin beneath the soft cotton. His other arm moved slowly between Alex’s muscled shoulder blades, pulling with a desperation at the neck of the shirt. Alex hesitated for just a second, seeming to process what was happening. His hands moved up Michael’s chest, arms coming to rest once they were wrapped around Michael’s neck, one hand moving into those chestnut curls where his fingers couldn’t stop running through the strands. They rounded into one another, practically becoming one. Their faces rested in the crook of the others neck, both taking deep breaths and closing their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Michael whispered, breath tickling the shell of Alex’s ear, causing goosebumps to race down his neck. “I was terrified.”

“Of what?” Michael thought, if he could taste Alex’s voice, it’d be sweet like berries in summer.

“I can’t mess this up again, Alex. I think it’ll kill me.” He felt Alex nod in understanding, hair brushing against his cheek. Alex stood straight to meet his gaze. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks. You just seemed to – “

“I know.” Michael said, eyes squeezing shut from embarrassment. “I knew what you were doing, and I wanted to talk, to start over, so badly. I just kept picturing messing it up or you walking away, and I couldn’t - “

“I’m not going anywhere this time, Michael. I’m right here.” Alex’s hand moved to Michael’s face, thumb dragging gently across his stubbled jaw.

Michael’s shoulders relaxed and his chest lost some of its tightness as a calm washed over him. Alex rested his forehead against Michael’s as his slid his thigh between the other man’s legs, both hands returning to the curls he never seemed to get enough of. “I’m not going anywhere, Michael.”

Michael sighed and pulled Alex closer, their bodies moving with the music, lost in their own world while the universe spun around them.

“I forgot what this felt like,” Michael laughed, rubbing his nose against Alex’s. Alex smiled and asked, “what?”

“Happiness.”

#malexrem #malex remix 2021 #cosmicclownboy #my fic #drabble #roswell new mexico

68 notes · View notes

on-maars · 3 years

Text

Find My Way Home (Back To You)

Alright I wrote a post Eddie Begins episode fic and I really hope you’ll like it :)

Read it on AO3

Eddie sighs and turns around for what might be the tenth time in the past two hours.

He can’t sleep. He can’t sleep without being back there again. He can’t sleep without stopping the nightmares. Not about the war. He’s had his fair share of night terrors about the war, but lately the nightmares have taken another direction. He doesn’t dream of being the target of a thousand snipers anymore. He dreams of that moment. He dreams of being back there again, buried in the ground, thirty feet of wet earth above him, trapped, without any way of getting back to his son, without any way of getting back to his family. It’s suffocating, and Eddie often wakes up soaking wet, his hair sticking to his forehead, his sheet drenched in sweat. Drenched in sweat, and tears. His tears.

He can’t sleep and he tried everything. Every method he can think of. Every method his mother used to teach him when he was scared and alone at night, suffering from insomnia. He tried some breathing exercises his therapist showed him the week before, tried taking a walk around the neighborhood to clear his head and take his mind off things, he tried reading a book and even went through some meditations videos on YouTube that Buck recommended to him a while back. But nothing is working. His mind keeps sending him back to that place. To the well.

Eddie turns around again and lets his eyes fall on his alarm clock as it reads 2:49am. Eddie sighs and presses his hands to his face, apprehending the 24 hours shift waiting for him in the early hours of the morning. Not necessarily because of the fatigue. After all it wouldn’t be the first time Eddie gets through an awfully long shift with the 118 with only a few hours of sleep in his system.

No, he’s only apprehending it because he knows, deep down, that he’s so far from being in the right state of mind to face the difficulties of his job. He feels more restless, more fidgety, less focused than usual. And if there is no doubt in Eddie’s mind that the 118 is going to notice his mood swings. And if they notice, then he’s going to need to explain. Explain the extent of how messed-up he is in the head. Explain how the war still terrorized him sometimes at night. Explain how tight his throat is ever since he’s made it out of that well. And that’s a conversation he’s not ready to face.

Eddie looks up at the ceiling and gropes around in the dark until his right hand finds his phone. He knows scrolling mindlessly the news is only going to keep his brain more awake but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He unlocks his phone and frowns when he notices an unseen message from his sister in his inbox. The message is short, but it catches Eddie’s attention.

“Isn’t he your friend Buck?!”

There is a link just underneath it and when Eddie clicks on it, his breath catches in his throat and his heart starts pounding hard against his chest. It’s a video. A video of that day. A video of the rig, collapsing, and burying him under thirty feet of earth in the process. Only the video doesn’t show only that. It also shows his coworkers’ reaction. It also shows Buck.

Buck

Buck, who collapses on the ground and completely falls to pieces. Buck, who screams his name and starts digging the earth with his bare hands. Buck, who bursts into tears and whose face is contorted with fear, rage and pain. Eddie watches him as he continues calling out his name in agony, he watches him as Bobby needs to physically restrain him to stop him from digging, and Eddie swears he can feel his heart cracked open at the sight.

The scene is devastating, heartbreaking, and the last seconds of the video only shows Buck, sitting on the ground, his head down, tears rolling down his face, as the rain continues pouring down on him.

By the time Eddie finishes watching the video, his hands are shaking and the room is spinning. His whole body is tense, buzzing with a nervous energy and Eddie closes his eyes fiercely but he can’t get the images out of his head. How can he? How can he when he had to sit through and watch his best-friend having a complete breakdown in a video with more than a million views? How can he when until then, he was so far up his own ass not to notice that Buck was hurting too? Not to notice that he wasn't the only one who ended up traumatized by this day?

He sits back straight on his bed, and leans his back against the headboard, running both of his hands through his hair a few times, ignoring how his heart pulses in his head, making it hurt.

He takes his phone in his hand and gets up, stepping out of his room and going down the stairs until he reaches the living-room. Here, he lets himself fall on the couch, rubbing his temples with his fingers, his eyes closed. In vain. It’s no use. It’s no use trying to get his breathing back to normal while the only thing he really wants is to see his best-friend with his own two eyes and make sure he’s okay.

“Can you come over?” He sends. It’s short and vague, but Eddie knows Buck keeps his phone in sound mode at all times just in case this kind of emergencies come up.

But is it an emergency? Eddie asks himself as he brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. It’s not. Not really. But Buck’s answer still comes after just a few seconds.

“Be there in 15. You okay? Christopher?”

“We’re okay. Just need to see you.”

Eddie jumps out of the couch and starts pacing back and forth in the living-room, not knowing what to do with himself. He squats down and starts picking up every Lego bricks lying around on the carpet, on the coffee table under the sofa. Christopher was in the middle of building a (more than unstable) house before heading to bed and he seemed so tired from his school day Eddie didn’t have the heart to ask him to tidy. He’s in the middle of retrieving a brick which ended up under the carpet when he hears the distinct sound of someone opening the front door.

He whirls his head around and finds himself face to face with Buck who looks around the living-room in alarm, his eyes wide. His hair is disheveled and his shoes are mismatched and Eddie almost feels bad for waking him up in the middle of the night while they both have a 24 hours shift waiting for them in a few hours. His best-friend’s face softens when his eyes fall on him, and Eddie doesn’t waste any time to close the gap separating them and wrapping his arms around his neck to hold him close.

“Evan Buckley I swear to god you’re going to be the death of me.” He says, not thinking twice before burying his face in the crook of his best-friend’s neck. Buck seems taken aback for a few seconds, but he doesn’t question it and reciprocate the embrace with just as much vigor. “I’m sorry.” Eddie eventually says, grabbing his tee-shirt with his right hand.

“You’re sorry?” Buck repeats, his voiced filled with confusion. “About what?” He adds.

“God I’ve been so far up my own ass these past few days, haven’t I?” Eddie asks, taking a step back and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, following his gaze until he’s sure Buck looks at him in the eye. His best-friend seems reluctant at first, almost as if he already knows where the conversation is going, but then he finally meets his gaze and Eddie’s look is so intense and he’s watching him with so much attention something in his face just breaks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what, Eds?” Buck asks, but from the way his voice breaks, Eddie knows it’s just a way for him to try and take the conversation elsewhere.

“Buck.” Eddie says, and it’s a warning. We’re having that conversation whether you like it or not.

“Eddie, just- Don’t, alright?” Buck starts. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s all that matters.”

“I saw the video.” Eddie says, taking another step backwards until he sits on a kitchen chair, running his right hand through his hair.

“What video?” Buck says, his voice small, but sighs and looks down when Eddie maintains eye-contact. “Took you long enough.” He only adds, leaning against the fridge. “It was literally everywhere on the news. Big headlines too.” He says, letting out a humorless laugh.

“Buck-”

“But again, I’spose it’s fun to see a firefighter completely losing it after his best-friend has been buried thirty feet underground.” Buck cuts in, his voice hollow. “I guess it ‘entertains’ people just fine”

“Buck-” Eddie starts, but his friend is faster.

“As if I want to relive that moment, you know?” Buck goes on and his voice is louder now, more aggressive. “As if one time wasn’t enough.”

“Buck, I-”

“Eddie, you cut the damn line!” He exclaims and Eddie jumps with surprise at how raw and demanding his tone is. “You cut the damn line!” He repeats and a tear rolls down his left cheek. “And you know what the worst part is? The worst part is that I can’t even blame you for it! You wanted to save that kid… I mean, how can I blame you for wanting to save that kid, Eddie? I can’t. I would be a fucking hypocrite if I did, man. Cause I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t be mad.” Eddie says, keeping his eyes down, incapable of meeting his best-friend’s gaze. “It doesn’t mean you can’t be angry.” He adds. “Hell, I know I would be.”

“I just- Eddie, did you ever stop for a second to imagine what it was like for me? I was pulling you out Eds. I was pulling you out and then the weight was just- the weight was just gone. You were gone.” He says through gritted teeth and Eddie darts his eyes towards him for just a second, but that’s still enough time for him to see the expression of complete agony and pure heartbreak on his best-friend’s face. Eddie looks away just as fast and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“But that’s not even the worst part, oh no.” Buck goes on and Eddie knows this one is on a roll. He’s determined and he won’t stop until he got everything off his chest. “ Because then this damn rig just collapsed and I- I couldn’t get you out, I- You were… You were buried, Eds. You were buried and I swear to god I would have dug the whole thing with my bare hands if I had to.”

“I know you would’ve.” Eddie only says, staring at Buck, his eyes filled with the tears he’s been trying to hold back for the past fifteen minutes. “I know you would’ve.”

“I didn’t give up on you.” Buck answers, as if he’s trying to justify his actions in a courtroom. “You’ve got to know that, alright?” He repeats. “I didn’t give up on you. Even when people were trying to convince me that there was no way you would have survived that, I didn’t- I didn’t give up on you.”

“Hey, hey, I know.” Eddie instantly reassures him, getting up and closing the gap between them. “I know.” He repeats, cupping Buck’s cheeks with his hands. “You didn’t give up.”

“I didn’t give up.” Buck nods, his lips quivering.

“Buck, do you think- do you think I’m mad at you because you didn’t try hard enough?” Eddie manages to articulate, his fingers playing with the roots of Buck’s hair. “How could you have tried any harder?” Eddie adds, letting out a nervous laugh. “For Christ’s sake Evan, you told me yourself you were ready to dig the whole thing by hands. There’s nothing you could have done. You hear me?”

Buck frantically nods and Eddie sighs, wrapping his right arm around his neck to pull him forward. Buck’s whole body tenses and it’s only when his shoulders start shaking that Eddie realizes his best-friend is full-on sobbing against him, his tears wetting his white tee-shirt. Buck rests his forehead on his shoulder and Eddie simply runs his left hand through his hair while the other traces small patterns on his back, holding him tight. He presses his lips on his hair, closing his eyes fiercely for a few seconds while throwing his head backwards, looking up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry.” Buck says against him. “Here I am again, making the whole thing about me while you’re the one who’ve been buried underground.”

“Don’t be stupid Buck, I’m the one who should apologize here. I was so focused on my pain and the nightmares that I-”

“Nightmares?” Buck whirls his head up to meet his eyes. “You have nightmares about the well?” He asks, his eyes full of concern, and Eddie lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Yeah but that’s not the point, Buck.” He says, dismissing his concern with a hand’s gesture. “I should have seen you were hurting. I’m sorry.” He adds. “And yes I have nightmares but Buck you need to know you’re the only reason I got out. You and Christopher? I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Wouldn’t have done it. But I promised myself I’ll always find my way back home. So I did.”

Eddie cradles his chin with his left hand, forcing him to look up.

“That… That was sappy as hell, man.” Buck tries and Eddie snorts, placing his hand on his cheek to make him look away.

“Says the one who was ready to dig thirty feet of wet earth with his bare hands.” He says playfully and then Buck does this thing again where he looks down with a shy smile and Eddie’s heart just melts at the sight.

When Buck lifts his gaze again, their lips are only separated by a few inches of space and Eddie’s head is spinning. He stays there, motionless, not knowing whether he should finally gives in to years of pining and unresolved tension. But then, Buck’s eyes dart towards his lips and all his good sense goes up in smoke. Eddie looks at him for permission and when Buck nods, he places his hand on the back of his neck and presses their lips together. It doesn’t last long. It’s brief, and when Eddie takes a step back, Buck’s lips chase his own a second time and he only smiles and complies happily.

This time, the kiss is more heated and Buck’s hands find their way on the back of Eddie’s neck, biting his lower lip to demand access to his mouth. Eddie smiles against his mouth and runs both of his hands through his hair, bringing him closer. This earns him a small whimper from Buck and Eddie only kisses him harder, pressing his best-friend’s body against the fridge and sliding his hand underneath his tee-shirt.

“God I can’t believe we waited three years to do that.” Buck says Eddie huffs out a laugh against his lips.

“Well I mean you were a bit slow on the uptake.” Eddie teases him.

“Oh fuck off.” Buck taps him on the head playfully. “You know I couldn’t just- I had to be sure.”

“I know.” Eddie says, his voice soft.

“I couldn’t do the first move. I had to wait for… I had to wait for you to do it. Even if I knew that you- because I knew. Of course I knew. But-”

“Hey.” Eddie cuts him off by cupping his cheeks with his hands. “I know.” He repeats. “Alright then Evan. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Lead the way, Edmundo.”

“Not my name.” Eddie says with a smile, taking his hand in his to guide him towards the bedroom.

“Sorry. Eduardo.”

“Still not my name, man."

"Diaz?"

"That's it, you’re sleeping on the damn couch, Buckley.” Eddie warns but the smile on his face betrays him.

“Really? You would make me sleep on the couch? The guy who was ready to dig 30 feet of wet earth with his bare han-”

“Oh my god will you shut up?” Eddie whispers loudly, being careful not to wake up Christopher fast asleep in the adjoining room.

“Make me.” Buck says, a hint of amusement in his voice and Eddie?

Well Eddie wastes no time to crash their lips together another time.

#buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 #Eddie Begins #Evan Buckley #Eddie diaz #911 #buck x eddie

50 notes · View notes

babbushka · 4 years

Text

A Million Things

Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Reader

2.2k; Content Warnings: Light murder/mention of murder, NSFW (Subby!Kylo, humiliation/verbal humiliation kink, praise kink, sloppy jerking off, crying during sex, begging, name-calling)

Available on AO3!

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

He knows he’s in trouble, knows as soon as it happens. It all happened so fast, Kylo is still breathing hard, his heart racing, his palm clammy as you hold his hand in the car, as you squeeze it tight. He loves you so much, loves that even when he’s in trouble, you still want to hold his hand.

It’s a silent car ride, away from the fundraiser, back towards the great big penthouse in the sky that you and he call home. Dopheld, for once, is blissfully quiet, and that’s only because he can sense the tension in the air.

Only when you’ve walked with him down the pretty marble lobby and corralled him up the private elevator, when you’ve got him back behind the closed doors of your bedroom and pushed down so that he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, do you let go of his hand – and that’s only to wind a fist tightly into his hair, yanking his hair back.

“What the fuck was that back there?” You frown at him. Your voice is lovely, so lovely and warm, even laced with seriousness like this. There’s no note of anger, not a hint anywhere other than the way your brows crease ever so slightly, and a rush of adrenaline washes through Kylo’s body.

You’re the most dangerous woman in the world, the most dangerous person, and you both know it.

He can’t help but bite down on the inside of his cheek, can’t help but widen his eyes ever so slightly when he looks up at you, can’t help but blush crimson because that thought, that knowledge of just how lethal you are, makes him hard.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He grumbles, baritone rich and deep and bouncing around in the quiet of the room, bouncing around inside your chest.

“I didn’t ask you if you wanted to talk about it, I asked you what the hell were you thinking?” You tsk back softly, soothingly, tightening the hand in his hair. His cock leaks in his nice pleated trousers, and he has to work hard to suppress a moan.

“He just – ” Kylo huffs, frustrated thinking about the series of events that led you both here – how some snobbish Englishman had been chatting you up entirely too casually, how he’d been eyeing your body up and down, how he had shot him for it – he pouts and puffs his lips up and tries to be nonchalant when he says, “He was looking at you.”

“He was supposed to be looking at me Kylo he was -- are you hard?” You cut yourself off midsentence, realization coloring your tone, and Kylo flushes bright red with embarrassment.

“What?” He doesn’t dare blink, doesn’t dare do anything at all, other than silently beg you to do exactly what he hopes you’re going to.

You grin as you release your death grip on his hair, and oh, he knows he’s in for it.

Kylo’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, and you carefully, slowly, slide a foot between his legs. Using your knee, you pry his thighs apart and there it is, the long thick line of his cock straining against the fabric of those trousers.

You can see it twitching, jumping at the thought of punishment, at the thought of your sharp silver tongue and wicked words, and for a second, you debate making him come in his underwear for all your trouble.

“Is that it, you were thinking with your big cock instead of your brain?” You scold him, already stepping out of your heels, reaching behind you and working on the zipper on the back of your dress. He tracks the movement with great interest, watches as you slip the expensive garment off and let it fall to the floor.

“Baby…” Kylo licks his lips and moves to touch you, but you quickly smack at his hand and reach out to snatch his chin between your manicured fingers, holding him steady.

“Let me see it.” You practically seethe, your jaw hard set even as you’re standing in front of him in just a bra and panties.

How you wield such power, such authority with ease, makes Kylo weak. His cock is so hard, it’s throbbing for you, leaking all over himself, his hands shake as he pulls it out through the fly of his trousers. His beautifully cut head is flushed dark and angry, desperate, he’s so desperate for you his hips are already moving, already squirming under your touch.

“Absolutely fucking obscene.” You sneer as you dig your fingers deeper into his chin, his jaw, and his eyes flutter shut as pleasure sparks up his brain, up his spine, “How do you do anything with that between your legs, hm? How do you function, it’s disgusting. Jerk off, go on, touch yourself, you’re so frantic for it go on.”

At the permission, Kylo’s hand practically flies to his cock, wrapping his calloused fingers around it and squeezing it as tightly as you’ve got your hand on his jaw. He smears his precome up and down his shaft, slicking himself up with it, moaning as the ridges of his veins nudge against his palm. He’s already breathing hard, already biting at his lip so hard he’s sure it’ll bleed, and it only spurs him on further.

You unhook your bra and let it fall to the floor, before pushing him to lay back further onto the mattress and straddling his waist. He’s still dressed, completely and fully dressed, down to the white bowtie around his neck, and somehow he feels more vulnerable than ever. He has to fight not to come right then and there.

Your body is gorgeous above him and he strokes himself off hard and fast. You’re so close to him that he goes nearly cross-eyed to see you, to focus on you. He can feel your nipples brush against him through the starched white of his dress shirt, he can feel the heat coming from your pussy as you grind yourself down on his waist, he lets you pry his mouth open and spit on his tongue, he swallows it all – he’ll swallow everything you’ll ever give him.

“C-can you – ” He whines, can’t even get the words out, can’t even ask, he trips and stumbles over his own tongue as he twists his fist up and down the length of his shaft, hips bucking up against his own hand, so hot in his tuxedo, hot hot hot underneath you.

“What? What do you want from me, want me to touch you?” Your voice is mocking and teasing in a harsh way that has him spurting up onto his hand, oozing and dripping and drooling the way you spit onto his tongue.

“Please!” He gasps, his balls drawing up tight, his stomach tensing and fluttering as his arm grows sore, tired, burning burning burning in the best way, wanting nothing more than this, than you.

“Well too fucking bad.” You snap loudly, and Kylo has to squeeze the base of his cock with a hard moan so he doesn’t come before you tell him he can, if you ever tell him he can. “You’re going to get yourself off and come all over yourself like the greedy slut that you are.”

“Unghh, fuck, I – ” Kylo hiccups, giving himself in to you, letting the shame rip through his body and make his heart pound loud loud loud in his ears, his dick throbbing pulsing aching, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby I’m sorry forgive me.”

“Is this okay? Do you want me to keep going?” You cup his cheek sweetly and sincerely, looking into his eyes with a seriousness that he doesn’t have the words to tell you how much he adores, appreciates. You check in on him, the way he checks in on you during times like these, never wanting to go too far, never wanting to really hurt him.

“Please – please don’t stop – please, I’m sorry.” He assures and reassures, until it dissolves into babbling, big fat tears pooling up in his eyes and spilling over his cheeks, wetting his hair. “Please, please – baby, I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why I bothered to bring you today, knowing how you get, how you’d undoubtedly cause a scene. A stunt like that could’ve gotten us caught and then where would we be, hm? You think you get to come in this pussy in prison?” You give in finally, letting go of his face and pulling his free hand, the hand that’s been twisting and curling in the neatly made comforter, guiding it underneath the fabric of your panties.

“No! No I – I didn’t mean to.” His fingers automatically seek your folds, and he moans loud when he finds you soaked, when he finds that your body is as wet for him as he is hard for you. It takes two seconds of fingering you and sliding through the heat of your pussy for him to cry out, “Oh fuck, fuck I’m going to come.”

“Beg for it, whore.” You lick your teeth, and Kylo is quick to oblige.

“Please – please honey, baby, please let me come I’ll be so good, I’ll be good for you I just – oh shit – I just need to come, I’ll do anything, please!” He’s so hot, sweating all over, hot for you, desperate for you, desperate to come, he has to come, he’ll kill anyone, do anything, burn down the world for him if you asked, if you let him come.

You know, and you love him, love this giant man quivering and sobbing tears of pleasure pain beneath you, so you kiss his cheek softly, kindly, and ask, “Where do you want it?”

“In you, please please let me fill your cunt up.” He chokes out, and you grin.

The second you’re nodding with approval, Kylo’s ripping the panties off you. The cotton doesn’t stand a chance against his strength, and it doesn’t even bother to try. He’s lifting your hips up and seating you down down down on the hard length of his dick before he can even take a breath, coming in you so blindly that he jackknifes up and almost smacks you in the face with his face from the intensity of it.

He’s on cloud nine, when he comes. It’s such a forceful orgasm that he almost thinks he’s blacked out from it, from the feeling. There is nothing but you, and him, and a velvety heat enveloping your bodies – he isn’t a particularly religious man, but he wonders if this must be what Heaven is like.

He doesn’t know if he’s just fucked up and hallucinating, drunk off the way you make him feel, but he can almost visualize his come pouring into you, can almost hear it hitting your walls as your pelvic muscles grip him tight. Such a tight pussy you have, he thinks. Or maybe he says it, he doesn’t know. Everything is beautiful and soft and warm, in his head.

He can feel something then, the soft presses of your lips all over his face. Slow, careful, gentle presses that lull him back to reality, and he whines, his eyes stinging from salty tears as he cracks them open. Your face fills up his entire field of vision, and with a trembling hand he caresses your cheek.

“Thank you.” His voice is thick and you simply shake your head with a kind, loving smile.

“Shh, it’s okay honey, you’re okay.” You roll yourselves over so you’re both on your sides, and you gather him up in your arms, nuzzle his face into your chest and smooth down his hair. “I’m not angry, beautiful boy.”

The praise floods through him and where your bodies are still joined, he comes a little harder, making you chuckle fondly, adoringly.

“I didn’t mean to kill him.” He rubs his nose into the pit of your throat, having half a brain cell to think about the sonofabitch that wound you both up in this position. It’s a lie, and you see straight through it, and he knows it.

“Yes you did, but that’s okay.” You hum happily, carding your fingers through his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp, making his whole body melt and relax into bliss in your arms. You kiss his temple in small little smooches, smiling at the lipstick prints that are left behind. “I love you so much, you did so well. We would’ve killed him sooner or later.”

“Yeah?” He cranes his neck to look up at you with surprised brows. The Englishman was a large donor to your particular fundraiser, Kylo wonders what he might’ve done to irritate you into thinking about killing him.

“Mhm, drink this.” Is all you say, reaching over to the nightstand and plucking a bottle of cool water. He knows you’ll tell him more later, when he’s awake enough and sharp enough to pay attention.

“I like when you’re mean.” He says apropos of nothing around a big sip of water, and you laugh, and he smiles, and everything feels right and good in the world.

“I’m never mean.” You wink at him, and he nods, because no, of course not.

You’re many things, a million things, things so wonderful and perfect and deadly and sexy as shit, but not mean.

Of course not.

#kylo ren #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/you #kylo ren x you #mob kylo #mob au #mob boss!kylo #kylo ren smut #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren fanfiction #my writing #kinktober 2020

200 notes · View notes

crispychrissy · 4 years

Text

Wildfire (6/?)

Summary: Wanda and Y/N discover something unsettling in her memories, and it reveals more about what Y/N went through. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3015 Warnings: Language, angst, violence, more sciencey stuff, a surprise A/N: I am so happy I was able to break through my writers block and write this for you guys. Wildfire is a personal favorite story of mine, and I love how the story is being weaved together and built. Please let me know if you are enjoying this, feedback gives me the fuel to keep going. :) Below gif is made by me, and this was beta’d by the ever so lovely @saxxxology.

Part 1—Marvel Masterlist

The memory overtook Y/N’s mind, sending her into almost a dreamlike state of consciousness. The room around her melted into the floor, replaced by concrete, glass, and a dusty dirt floor. The acrid smell of blood, sweat, and soot had bile rising in the back of her throat, but she continued to remind herself it wasn’t real, trying to stay grounded and not losing herself to the illusion. Y/N was a spectator now, watching from the sidelines as her memory played out.

“Again!” an accented voice boomed, and even though it was only in Y/N’s mind, she flinched. “Get up!”

“Where are we?” Wanda asked, appearing as a somewhat ghostly apparition to her right.

“This was about a year after I was enhanced, in the training and testing wing of the facility I was held at,” Y/N whispered, wincing in sympathy for her former self when she was punched in the face by the uniformed man towering over her. “That,” she pointed to the man, “is Eli Porter. He supervised most of my training.”

Wanda sniffed in distaste. “He seems like an asshole.”

Y/N smiled. “He was.”

Wanda raised a questioning brow, but Y/N only continued to stare at what was unfolding. There were six men in protective suits in the room aside from Eli, all in various stages of injury, leaving Y/N severely outmatched. Y/N’s memory self dragged herself from the floor, wiping the blood dripping from a gash on her nose with the back of her hand.

“I can’t do it,” memory Y/N growled, clenching her hands into fists.

“And I said I don’t give a fuck,” Eli sneered back. “Do what you're told or I’ll strap you down and let my men do whatever they want to make you compliant.”

“This is when I realized he made a mistake,” Y/N said, watching as her memory self’s eyes widened, realizing Eli had not worn his protective fire-proof suit into the training area like he should have.

In a blur of movement, memory Y/N darted forward and jumped so she could put her hands on either side of Eli’s head. Fire surged in her veins and out of her hands, and Eli screamed when his skin began to blister and sizzle. Flames consumed the man’s head, spreading down his neck and shoulders, igniting the expensive wool suit he was wearing. Y/N released him and stepped back, but by the time the other men in the room realized what had happened, Eli’s head was engulfed in flames, and he took several shuffled steps backward before collapsing.

“Well, then,” Wanda mumbled. “Brutal, but it appears he deserved what he got. This doesn’t seem like—”

“Keep watching,” Y/N breathed out, closing her eyes as the memory shifted.

In a montage of memories, Y/N watched with tear blurry eyes as her memory counterpart was beaten, tortured, starved, and worked within an inch of her life every single day. The punishment she endured for killing Eli lasted over two months, and every day began fresh due to her accelerated healing. The men would take bets on how many broken bones they could give before she’d pass out, or how long it would take her to lose consciousness if her throat was slit.

When they broke her body, they tried to break her mind. The knowledge she would heal allowed her to ignore the pain for the most part, and it frustrated her captors to no end. The scene flashed and changed, showing Y/N’s memory self strapped into a medical chair, wires attached to electrodes stuck all over her head. Her body looked so damaged and frail, and when a man in a lab coat flipped a switch and turned on a strange machine, electricity surged into her head. Her back arched and she opened her mouth to scream, but a mixture of dehydration and scar tissue around repeated cuts on her throat resulted in no sound. Tears flowed from her eyes as the machine powered down, and one of the men walked up, leaning forward to speak to her.

“You belong here,” he told her, “we’re trying to help you. Stop fighting us.”

With a quiet sob, memory Y/N lethargically nodded her head, finally giving in.

It was a weakness she promised herself she would never feel again.

“Y/N,” Wanda said calmly, making Y/N turn away from the horror playing out in front of her to look at the redhead. “You need to relax, okay?”

Y/N looked at her, confused, before she realized her fists were clenched tightly, and there were small flickers of orange flames dancing across her hands. A soft gasp left her lips as she relaxed her hands, snuffing out the flames. “Sorry. I just… watching from the sidelines is different. I still can’t believe I listened to them.”

“They tortured you, not even the strongest mind could withstand that.” Wanda’s attention shifted back to the memory playing out, and a deep frown eclipsed her face. “What are they doing?”

Y/N looked back, watching as one of the white coated men tinkered with a vial of some kind of opaque substance. The memory was fuzzy, like it was being seen through a camera that couldn’t focus, and both she and Wanda leaned forward to try and decipher the writing on the label.

“I was really out of it at this point, don’t remember ever seeing what it was they injected me with.” Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. “Can’t see something in the playback I didn’t see at the time.”

“Maybe not, but I can try to clear it up a little,” Wanda glanced at Y/N, “if you’ll allow me. The eyes register a lot more than the brain can process. All you need is to find the right set of… magical glasses, if you will.”

“If you think it’ll help, please, knock yourself out.” Y/N chuckled, then winced, rubbing her temples again. “Not literally. Please don’t knock yourself out.”

Wanda’s eyes glowed a deep crimson, and she smiled as she began to send wisps of red into the air from her hands. They danced around like sentient tendrils of light, poking and prodding various spots in her memory. When one wisp got close to the area where the doctor was working with the mysterious vial, an inky black puff of smoke appeared and seemed to snap at it, making the tendril retreat.

“Oh, that’s very strange,” Wanda hummed to herself, “whatever is in that vial seems to be pushing back against my magic. Which should be impossible since we’re only in an illusionary representation of your memory.”

A sharp pain stabbed at the back of Y/N’s head, making her squeeze her eyes shut. “Wanda…”

“One second. I’m trying to coax it out.” Wanda continued to focus on the mysterious billow of black smoke that had coiled itself around the doctor holding the vial like a snake ready to strike.

The longer Wanda interacted with the entity, the more intense Y/N’s pain became. When the witch was finally able to touch it with her magic, Y/N screamed and dropped to her knees, clutching her head. It felt like her brain was being burned from the inside, and she began to claw at her hair, digging her nails into her scalp to somehow make the pain stop.

“Y/N!” Wanda shouted, ceasing the use of her magic and rushing to Y/N’s side. Wanda couldn’t see anything actively attacking her, and she tried to stop Y/N’s frantic scratching. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Y/N slumped back, trembling, with tears streaming down her face as Wanda tried to calm her, and neither of them noticed the black smoke slithering its way toward them. The hair on the back of Wanda’s neck stood up and she pivoted on her heel, raising her hands to defend herself against an attack.

“No one escapes the abyss,” the smoky entity hissed, it’s voice gravelly and eerily echoey.

Wanda set her jaw and narrowed her eyes. “Watch me.”

The area was engulfed with a bright red light, and Wanda held onto Y/N as she forced herself and her magic away from the memory. Normally she would gradually remove herself, allowing reality to trickle back in, but there was no choice in this situation. Leaving a memory like this was unpleasant, and she could feel a trickle of blood fall from her nose at the intense amount of mental strain it caused her. As dark splotches began to flood Wanda’s vision, she made sure all of her magic was untainted and free of whatever that entity was before she allowed herself to succumb to the darkness.

Wanda jolted back to reality when she felt something touching her face, and instinct took over as she regained consciousness. She lifted her hand and sent out a burst of magic, forcing whatever was touching her away, fearing it was something malicious from the memory. When she opened her eyes, she realized the something touching her face was actually someone, and watched as a dazed Steve was helped up from the floor by Bucky.

“Wanda?” Steve questioned, rushing back to her side as Bucky went to Y/N.

“There’s… something inside her mind. The… abyss.” Wanda’s eyes rolled back into her head and she went limp in Steve’s arms.

“Shit,” Steve hissed, waving the nurses in before glancing over to his best friend. “Buck? Y/N?”

Bucky’s hands were running along Y/N’s arms, legs, and head, checking for any open wounds or broken bones with military precision. “There’s blood coming from her ears, but she looks uninjured. Well, no physical injuries, at least.” The nurses took over, also looking for injuries, and Bucky slid backward to allow them to work.

“What did Wanda say to you, Cap?” Bruce asked quietly, kneeling down next to Wanda and helping Steve shift her onto one of the collapsable stretchers he removed from his medical kit.

Steve let out a long breath of air, slumping back onto his bottom. “She said there’s something in Y/N’s mind.” Steve glanced behind him at Bucky helping the nurses shift Y/N onto the stretcher, and lowered his voice. “The abyss?”

“Doesn’t ring any bells.” Bruce shrugged, hooking up a small portable set of vital monitoring machines to Wanda. “Wanda’s stable, just unconscious. If I had to guess, she overexerted herself.” He looked over his shoulder at Y/N and the nurses lifting her onto a similar stretcher as Wanda’s. “Marlene, make sure you take her for a brain scan right away. I may not be a medical doctor, but even I know blood dripping from someone’s ears is never a good thing.”

Marlene nodded and with help from the other nurse, they lifted Y/N up and carried her quickly from the room.

Bucky studied Y/N’s bloody ears as the nurses walked past him, and he shivered as he was assaulted with a flash of his own memory. Zola’s face studying him, injecting him with things, and electrodes being placed on his head before a mind numbing amount of pain shot through him. He remembered looking at his reflection in the mirror once they got back to the Army base camp in Italy, noticing the dried blood that had come from his ears.

“Yeah, never a good thing,” Bucky muttered, and when Steve looked over at him with deep concern on his face, Bucky managed to give him a soft reassuring smile. “Just remembering what happened in Kreischberg,” Bucky tapped his ear with his finger, “I’m good.” Steve’s frown remained, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Really, pal, I’m fine. I’ve remembered that one before.”

“Cap, a hand?” Bruce asked, crouching at the front of the stretcher.

Steve leaned forward and took a hold of the bottom of the stretcher, lifting Wanda once Bruce counted to three. Bucky led the way as they carried her out of the room and down the hallway. Once they reached the medical wing, Tony and Natasha, who were standing outside the MRI room, joined the group.

“What the hell happened?” Tony asked, frowning at Wanda’s unconscious form as they continued down the hallway and into an empty room.

“Wanda was trying to help Y/N remember more of her captivity and figure out why she can’t get a read on her mind, so she did the mind meld thing she did with Bucky when he first got here.” Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Before she passed out, Wanda said there’s something in Y/N’s mind. Called it the abyss.”

“Hmm,” Tony tapped the side of his glasses, “FRIDAY, run a search on the abyss in relation to Hydra. Any files come up?”

“No, boss,” the AI replied, “the only results I found are excerpts from private journals of Hydra officers. They are all personal reflections about their plans to ‘send SHIELD into the abyss’.”

“That’s because she’s not searching for the correct term,” Bucky chimed in with a shaky voice, moving toward Tony. “It’s not spelled a-b-y-s-s like the word, it’s an acronym. A-B-I-S.”

“FRIDAY?” Tony prompted again.

“Found it,” FRIDAY announced. “ABIS: Autonomic Brain Infiltration Substance. Records are limited, but it appears it was created under the scientific human experimentation umbrella of the Winter Soldier Project.”

All eyes snapped to Bucky, and Steve took a hesitant step forward, waiting for him to explain.

“It, uhhh, it didn’t work on me, which is why they went with the brainwashing.” Bucky’s metal arm whirred as his hand closed into a fist. “I don’t know what it was made of, but it was designed to strip you of your free will. The doctors kinda explained some of how it worked when they didn’t think I was listening. Not only does it block you from making your own decisions, but it also blocks anything external that tries to affect you and if someone tries to remove it, it fights back.”

“Which is why Wanda couldn’t see inside Y/N’s mind,” Steve realized, looking over at Bruce. “Did any of her tests show this thing inside her head?”

Bruce looked up from the monitor he was studying, shifting uncomfortably at how close Natasha was leaning over his shoulder. “I’m looking back through her scans right now. Everything looks completely normal. So either it doesn’t block medical equipment, or protected itself from discovery by projecting a fake result of the scan.”

“Can it do that?” Natasha asked, looking between Bucky and the scans up on the screen.

“I don’t know.” Bucky had more of his own questions than answers for everyone else, but he knew the amount of pain he was in for weeks after they injected it into him. “It never worked on me, and I don’t know why. Maybe it can only latch onto enhanced people?”

“We’re both enhanced, Bucky,” Steve reminded him.

“Yeah, but by chemicals. I’m talking about inhumans, the ones with dormant abilities that are activated.” Bucky turned toward Bruce, and gestured to the doctor. “You said it yourself, Banner, she has mutated DNA, just like the inhumans that began to pop up everywhere a few years back. What if they used the Power Stone to trigger her mutation?”

Natasha’s eyes widened, even though they were full of sadness and sympathy. “And when she resisted, they used this ABIS thing to try and control her.”

“They did say it was going to be more effective and faster than brainwashing,” Bucky growled, “and I bet she didn’t even know it was inside her.”

“She didn’t.”

Wanda was sitting up in the hospital bed, her eyes unfocused as she slowly blinked at the small group standing in her hospital room. Everyone, aside from Bruce, rushed toward her when they saw she was awake. Wanda’s hand was shaking as she gripped the rail of the bed and lifted herself up into a sitting position.

“Easy there, witchy woman,” Tony gently urged her to lay back down, “you need to rest.”

Wanda slumped back, breathing heavily at how fast the small amount of exertion exhausted her. “Y/N?”

“Unconscious, but aside from some bloody ears, appears unharmed. We’re giving her an MRI right now.” Steve sat down in one of the comfy plush chairs next to her bed. “What happened, Wanda?”

Wanda took a deep breath and closed her eyes, retelling her experience with Y/N in her memory. Everyone showed some form of anger or outrage when Wanda explained the amount of torture Y/N endured after she killed Eli, and when she began to explain the strange black substance in a vial, Bucky cut her off.

“That’s it, that’s what the ABIS looked like.”

“It talked to me,” Wanda whispered. “Told me ‘no one can escape the abyss’ before I forced myself from her memory and mind.”

“Ouch,” Bucky winced in sympathy, having seen the toll it took on her when she’d had to do a quick mental extraction like that before. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” Wanda smiled. “Just need some rest. But what do you mean ‘that’s what it looked like’? Have you seen it before?”

“ABIS is an acronym, A-B-I-S. It stands for Autonomic Brain Infiltration Substance. They tried to use it to control me when I was the Winter Soldier. It didn’t work, and they resorted to brainwashing.” Bucky shook his head. “Apparently they kept what was left, or still had the recipe somewhere to recreate it.”

“I’m sorry, guys, I’m not strong enough to poke around and get you more answers,” Wanda rasped, eagerly taking the bottle of water Tony offered, chugging half of it in seconds. After she recapped the bottle, she sent Tony a sympathetic look. “But I do know who is.”

“Aw, hell,” Tony sighed, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. “Here we go.”

Steve grinned and looked toward the ceiling. “Heimdall! Can you please let Thor know we are requesting his presence?” Steve sighed. “His and Loki’s.”

***

Marvel Forevers [3 SPOTS OPEN]: @princessmisery666 @tardis-auto-pilot @feelmyroarrrr @idalinette @kassablanca13 @superlockedtimelord @voltage-my2dlove @agentstarkid @amandatar-06 @mizzezm @holyfuckloueh @spn--imagines @fanfictionjunkie1112 @wish-i-had-something-better @kittenofdoomage @growningupgeek @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @cake-writes @captain-kelli @zoerayne2426 @sadwaywardkid @sunlightdances @buckyland @kentuckybarnes @justagirlinafandomworld @cosicas-cuquis @cravingmarvel @straightforwardly @beccaanne814 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @walkingchemicalfire @rhymesmenagerie @hina-chans-stuff @supernaturaldean67 @idjitmonkey @crushedbyhyperbole @xxloki81xx @blue-like-barnes @rainbowkisses31 @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @flyingcannoli @reapersan @previouslyforgotten @thefridgeismybestie @hawksmagnolia @zpandaqueen

Wildfire Tags: @eliza5616 @bitchwhytho @waywardsistersandpie @tofeartheunknown @ayannaboo1111 @nerdwholikesword @nerdgirljen @eileenalone @awaywithtime @winchester-wifey @fuckinherondale

#wildfire #part 6 #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #series #marvel #mcu #wildfire series #enhanced!reader #project wildfire #mild angst #more revelations #fire #fire enhanced

174 notes · View notes

msmarvelwrites · 4 years

Text

The Winter Ghost - Part 12

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn’t and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: swearing, ptsd, agnst

W/c: 2k

A/n: I want to personally apologise for this. But honestly, this was the most fun chapter to write. I’m in love with this and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. As always, thank you to @cutie1365 for all her help with this one! Also the POV between Bucky and the reader jump back and forth alot through this one I hope it makes sense!

The several punching bags Bucky had mutilated last night lay in the corner of the gym, now collecting dust as he bandaged his bloody knuckles. He hadn't stopped thinking about you all night... Hadn’t stopped thinking about the Winter Soldier who fired those three lethal shots into his mission's chest. The Soldier he once was, fighting the monster he knew he’d always be. They could take his trigger words, but they'd never erase the incoherent and disjointed memories of the gruesome acts he had so willingly performed.

He tried to piece together that fateful mission. How could he forget? He could still see the twisted look on the man's face as his eyes rolled back into his skull, falling off the bridge and into the murky water beneath him, slipping farther and farther from view. At the time, he remembered thinking how easy it would be to dive in after him. He wondered if he hit the water, would it kill him? Surly not. Most likely, he’d survive… But a guy could dream. Sinking deeper and deeper into the cold waters would be so peaceful. He almost did it. But the blood curdling screams from behind reminded him of the task at hand.

He forced himself to relive that moment, over and over until the ringing of bullets in his mind became melotic, trying desperately to remember her face. Every time, drawing a blank. His memory of her, nothing but a tangled mess of wires, too rusted and corroded to connect. A headache pounded behind his sleep deprived eyes, scolding him. But he couldn't stop.

How could he not remember your face. Or the sound of your heavy sobs as you crumbled into a hollowed out version of the woman he’s now so fond of. You begged him, he remembered that. Your screams only to be washed out by the sound of his pistol. The drum of bullets used to be the only comfort to him, but now he would easily trade it for your laugh. The way you sigh, soft and smooth when he says something that makes you smile. The way your eyes crinkle when you're happy, or how your hair always falls in perfect ringlets around your face. He knows he shouldn't have let it get this bad, but it's too late now. You've ruined any other woman for him, and for that he was grateful. But now, as fast as you had stolen his every thought, you were gone.

Truly the better criminal.

He saw you, only in passing as you walked by the kitchen. Your eyes fell to his and he could see the hurt behind them. He wanted nothing more than to run to you, explain, apologise- but Nat stopped him before he could.

“Not like this, Barnes. Not like this.” She solded. He knew she was right. If you were to ever be able to look at him again, he needed to give you space to breathe. But Bucky was at a loss.

With Steve away doing God knows what, he wasn't sure who to turn to. It had been over a week since he had exchanged words with his best friend and though he missed him, he also hated what he had done. Deep, deep down, Bucky knew he was trying to protect him, but that didn't dismiss the complete and utter mess he had made.

So there he sat, battered and panting on the gym floor as he tried to fight the urge to run to your room and beg for forgiveness that would never come. He knew it. Perhaps that was for the best. You deserved more than a ghost of who he once was.

…………………………

Dirty plates and empty liquor bottles scattered your coffee table. You sat up, noticing Nat fast sleep on the small sofa in your room. Sam was sprawled on the floor with an old teddy bear Tom had won for you at Coney Island years back. He cradled in between his arms, soft snores slipping from beneath his lips.

You spent the rest of the night eating contraband snacks and watching some gorey action movie you picked to drown out your inner dialogue. It didn't really work, but Sam’s earth shattering snores that came half way through the movie helped in its place. As you listen to his staggered breathing, you wonder about the girl you left behind all those days ago. The one who forgot everything, but your mind tormented you with the memory of. You wondered if there was still a piece of her hidden deep down inside of you, waiting to spring forth at any moment. She wasn't broken. At least not the way you are now and you wondered, only for a moment, if maybe you liked the pathetic person she was. If only because she had no recollection of her duty, her honour, and could run back into his arms and forgive him.

But that's not who you were anymore.

Quietly, you snuck out of bed and ransacked through your dresser drawer for something to wear. Nat and Sam had helped you put some of your clothes away between shots of tequila.

‘That’s a lot of plaid’, Nat complained, pulling yet another flannel out of your box of clothes. ‘And leather, did you make it out of the nineties okay, babe?’ Sam laughed.

Grabbing your favourite jeans and vintage AC/DC shirt you stepped into the steam filled bathroom.

After getting ready, you tiptoed out of your room, quietly closing the door and silently cursing when it slammed shut.

Damn your super strength.

You whipped around, ready to bolt down the hallway when you slammed into a tall hard frame. You looked up, hoping- no, praying it wasn't…

“Hi.”

You physically recoiled at the sight. There stood Bucky, hair pulled back off his face and a big lopsided grin on his lips.

What the fuck?

“Hi.” You deadpanned, pushing past him and trying your very best to not run away screaming. You were stronger than that. You were the youngest in your graduating class, hired by S.H.I.E.L.D, trained by the best agents in the field, and a goddamn Super Soldier. You weren't running from Bucky Barnes. You did however turn quickly on your feet and briskly walk passed him.

“Hold up a sec,” he started.

You froze. Why did you freeze? You didn't need him to say anything to you. The damage was done, and yet, there you were, breathless on his every word.

“What?” You spat through a clench jaw.

“Uh, I need to talk to you…”

“Well, good for you.”

“Yeah, uh- Listen, I know you remembered everything and I just wanted to say that...” His words faded into the background as you began to see nothing but red. He was really doing this right now. Apologising for murdering Tommy, for dragging you back to Hydra, kicking and screaming, for being the sole reason you're in this mess.

Okay so you created the serum against your better judgment… But you weren’t the one on trial here.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You sneer, cocking a brow.

“I- I just wanted to-”

“And I just wanted to have a fiance that wasn't dead. What did you think? You’d apologize for what you did and everything would just go back to the way it was. Huh?” He gaped at you in shock, “That I’d just forgive you and jump back in your bed? Did remember me, Barnes? Did you get off on kissing me after you shot him in the chest?” Your voice began to falter at that. Hurt and betrayal clouded your brain.

“No, of course not.” He finally spoke.

“No what? No that doesn't do it for the Winter Soldier?” You shouted. So much for quietly sneaking out.

“Y/n, listen to me- that’s not who I-.”

“Show him to me.” You took two wide pases so you were close enough to smell his body wash as you clenched your fist, digging it so hard into his chest you were sure you’d leave a mark. “Show me the Winter Soldier. Show me the ghost story they tell their children so that they’ll behave. I know he’s still in there. Cumon, Buck. You can't honestly believe he doesn't control your every move. You're a monster, you're just too much of a pussy to admit it. But I know-”

In seconds your back hit the wall, his metal arm crushing your windpipe as he held you there. If it weren't for your strength you were sure you would have passed out from the sheer strength of his blow. He was seething, eyes dark and all emotion washed from his face.

You tried to look scared, you really did. But there was something about that hollow stare that sent a shiver down your spine. Maybe you were the one getting off on the Winter Soldier?

“There he is.” You choked out. His face softened at the sound of your broken words, but before he could slip back to Bucky Barnes your bedroom door flew open. Sam and Nat came barreling out, guns drawn and ready to attack. When Nat realised what was happening she gasped.

Bucky involuntarily dropped you, eyes wide in shock. You tumbled to the ground, finding your footing quickly and taking the opportunity to send a sharp kick to Bucky’s chest, rocketing him back.

“Y/n I’m so sorry I don't know what happened.” A rouge tear escaped and rolled down his cheek only making your rage intensify.

“Oh, but I do. You may have everyone fooled around here. Hell, you had me for a moment there. But that's gone now. Dead. I see right through your act. It takes a monster to know one.” You scoffed, driving your point. And boy, was it a home run.

“Bucky, what the fuck!?” Nat snapped

“Are you okay, did he hurt you?” Sam was at your side, checking your neck for any injuries. You healed quickly, and so only a faint pink line wrapped around your throat, the only reminder of the scene that had just played out.

“Fine.” You mumbled, brushing the dirt off your pants.

“Y/n, let me explain-”

“You're still here? Nah, man, stop talking. Get the fuck out of here.” Sam scoffed, looking at Bucky's broken frame. You didn't need the Falcon to fight your battles, besides you had won this one already.

Bucky signed, knowing this was over. Nat eyed Sam while she walked the damaged man out of the hallway.

“You sure you're okay?” Sam spoke when they were finally out of sight. You nodded, feeling your heart begin to pick up speed at the distance that was now between you and Bucky.

“Okay, let's get you out of here for a little bit.”

You followed Sam through the compound and out into the scorching African heat. Your mind was still fuzzy from your moment you had shared the Winter Soldier, your legs feeling like jelly. Maybe you should have taken your doctor's advice and kept up with those therapy sessions because God damn if that wasn't the hottest thing that anyones ever done to you.

Like you said, it takes a monster to know one.

…………………….

“What the hell were you thinking?” Nat snapped, shoving Bucky into the kitchen. He didn't stumble, not like when you pushed him.

She wanted to see him. He thought, but did not dare utter the words.

“I don’t know Nat. She pushed a button, I lost control.”

“Lost control? You almost choked her to death.”

No he didn't. It takes six to seven minutes for brain cells to start dying. Ten for the eyes to start to pop out of their sockets before they would gasp their final-

No. God no. He could hear the monster's voice in the back of his head. Always lingering. You were right, he was always there. Always watching.

“But I didn't. So just drop it.” Bucky tried to change the subject but Natasha wasn't having any part.

“You need to get your shit together. What the hell is going on with you? First Y/n beats you within an inch of your life and now-”

“You don't know?” He was shocked. All this time he thought they were both in on it. He thought at the very least you would have told her.

“Know what?” She pressed.

“I did it. I killed him.” Natasha gapped at him so a moment before she cringed and looked away.

“Oh, god.”

......................................................................

A/N: Thank you for reading! And also shout out to @whateveriwant for her support and all her amazing advice. If you haven't already, go check out her work. I feel like I drew a little dark Bucky inspiration from a few of her fics. As always feedback is welcomed! Reblog and like if you feel so inclined!

@kalesrebellion

@projectcampbell

@calwitch

109 notes · View notes

all1e23 · 5 years

Text

Astrophile [Pt.17]

Chapter: Aurora

Summary: Happily ever after happens when you least expect it.

Warnings: Astrophile fluff.

A/N: Okay, I had no intentions of leaving everyone hanging so long but I got so sick. I am still coming out of it but I finally had enough energy to get this out. I hope this is the ending everyone was wanting to see. It’s been in my head since chapter 3/4 so hopefully, it was worth the wait. Thank you all for sticking with me and loving this little family as much as I do. Epilogue still to come and let’s not forget Astrophile Files.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

Smoke was all Bucky could see. He could feel the flames burning his skin and piles of ash tarnishing every good thing in his life. Consuming all Bucky cares about, taking… everything and leaving him nothing but the empty shell of a man. Because that’s what he would be without them, empty and broken. Thick, grey smoke cutting through golden orange flares that are choking the life out of every dream Bucky has for the future. Dark clouds of smoke billowing out of the windows of the bookstore. Blazes burning through the dark blue painted wood Bucky spent an afternoon fixing – charing and splintering it until there is nothing left he can recognize.

All the time and hard work Y/n’s grandparents put into the store over all those decades– every recital missed, every field trip and school play skipped was in vain in one afternoon. Every one of Y/n’s dreams gone in a flash. Just like that. Everything she told him she wants for the future will be gone, and there is nothing he can do to protect her from that. All he can do is watch as the flames take away every last thing that means anything at all to him.

Hope shattering smoke and world devastating flames are filling up Bucky’s head and heart and they haven't arrived on the scene yet. Y/n is smart enough to get out of the building if something happened, and Ori has had more than her fair share of fire safety from Bucky and her uncles over the years. She knows what to do if there are any signs of trouble, but what if they didn’t see the signs until it was too late? What if it started upstairs and spread into the bookstore before they had an opportunity to comprehend what was happening? What if they are trapped in Y/n’s office because they were back there sneaking stacks of books for Ori to bring home?

What if he loses them both bore he never has a chance to tell her.. to say to them both– Steve sensing the dark thoughts looming in Bucky’s head, sets a hand on his shoulder and he only knows it’s Steve because he recognizes the gold wedding band gleaming in the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to look up right now. The truck is hushed, and Bucky knows if he looks up and sees the worry and fear on his friend’s faces, it will only add to the unfavorable images that are tormenting him. So he keeps his eyes down, locked on the yellow sleeve of his turnout jacket that is covering his left arm, he can’t see it, but he can feel it – the silver star that sits in the center of his bracelet and rests right above the ink on his arm.

“Maybe you should hang back until we know what we are dealing with.”

Bucky’s head jerks up to meet Steve’s anxious eyes regarding him keenly. As much as Bucky understands where he’s coming from and loves Steve for what he’s striving to do, there is no way in hell he’s waiting back at the truck and not going in after them.

It’s not happening – no matter what they find.

“Steve,” Bucky shook his head and dropped his eyes to slip his gloves on and avoid the look on his best friend’s face.

“Don’t – Just. Don’t.”

Bucky can feel his heart pounding harder with each corner turned. The closer they get, the more the sirens are drowned out, and by the time the truck comes to a stop, all he can hear is his breath moving through his face mask. The steady sound of his oxygen – in and out, in and… out. They didn’t make it out, a dark, cruel part of his brain taunts him. Clint looks back at Buck and tells him something, but Bucky doesn’t catch it. From the little he got off reading Clint’s lips it wasn’t the bookstore and from the looks of things, Clint’s right.

It’s not the store.

The first one out of the truck, Bucky’s ignoring protocol, and he knows there will be a ‘Roger’s lecture on safety’ once this is all over. He doesn’t care. Steve can fire him because he simply doesn’t care. None of this means anything without Ori and Y/n.

The lights in the store are off. Nothing is out of place from what he can see through the front window. The strands of fairy lights and the pillow fort from the girl’s sleepover are set up in the middle of the room. The open sign is flipped to closed, but that doesn’t mean anything. Bucky half expected Y/n to close the shop for the day so they could have the place to themselves or spend the day upstairs.

“It’s coming from upstairs,” Bucky believes someone shouts, but he can’t be sure. He is concentrated on the crowd that is surrounding the building and slowly growing in size from the commotion. He quickly scans for Y/n and Ori, but they aren’t there. Where the hell are they? The voice back of his head is back, and it’s there to remind Bucky that the bookstore being cleared doesn’t mean they are safe. He’s seen hundreds of ways this can go wrong and he knows he can still lose them.

The narrow hallway of stairs leading up to Y/n’s apartment is filled with smoke and Bucky swears he can feel it filling his lungs. It’s wormed its way into his mask, and he can feel it burning his lungs with every inhale. The outer wall to Y/n’s apartment looks untouched and the front door has been kicked in by Sam, he assumes, and Bucky can’t breathe – it has nothing to do with the smoke this time. He pushes his way up the stairs, rushing past Steve and skidding to a halt at the top. The smoke is coming from across the hall.

It’s not coming from her apartment. They could still–

“Buck! Bucky! Are you listening?”

Bucky turns back around to look at Steve, brows furrowed but his eyes filled with dread, he doesn’t want to know, but he asks anyway, voice cracking as he does, “W-what? I – What did you find?”

“It was the guy across the hall from her. The old man who lives over the bakery. The one that flooded her apartment–” Bucky blinked a few times and slowly straightens up, rapidly shooting off questions, “Did it spread to her place? They share a wall. It’s the south wall of her bedroom. How much is damaged? She still has some of her grandparent’s things. P-pictures and– and a scarf that was her grandfathers. We need to get those out.”

He takes a shaky breath and forces out the question he never wants to ask, “Were they in there when it happened? Are Y/n and Ori hurt?”

Steve puts his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and gently urges him down the small hallway of stairs that lead to the street.

“They aren’t here. From what I could gather, he fell asleep using his hotplate, and it caught his curtains on fire. He tried to put it out himself, which led to all the smoke and the deli next door calling us, but from the looks of the bookstore and her apartment, the girls aren’t here.”

That should bring him some comfort, but it doesn’t. One of them could still be hurt, and he’s entirely cognizant of how that sounds, but they aren’t here, and until he sees with his own two eyes they are okay he’s not going to be okay.

“So where are they?”

Bucky is tossing his helmet, hood, and face mask into the truck before Steve can argue. Steve opens his mouth to stop him from causing more of a scene, but Bucky is shoving his gloves and jacket into the truck and digging around for his phone before he can get out an argument.

“I don’t know Buck. Have you tried calling her?” Bucky glares at him over his shoulder, “Of course, I’ve tried calling her Steve. Right after we got the call. No response. I don’t– What if Ori – they could be at the hospital or something.”

“Buck, you know better than most not to play the ‘what-if’ game. Call them. Maybe they are with Nat? Did you try her?”

Times like these Bucky wants to punch Steve. Just once. A light punch.No lasting damage, more of a nudge than a punch. A nudge with a sting. It will make everyone feel better. Bucky flips his phone back forth in the hands and decides that punching him in public probably would cause more problems and somewhere deep, deep down he knows Steve is trying to be helpful – not a pain in his ass. Bucky nods his agreement and walks towards the back of the truck, away from the crowd and his friends. He doesn’t need anyone witnessing him in a full meltdown, and he’s right on the edge.

The phone is ringing, and he didn’t even realize he had hit Natasha’s number, but regardless it’s ringing. Every passing buzz in his ear has his heart speeding up until it felt like he was going to have a heart attack right there in the middle of the street. He drops to a squat and hangs his head between his legs, working to steady his breathing. If Natasha doesn’t know where they are he doesn’t know what he’s going to do–

“James? What– Aren’t you at work?”

“Nat!” Bucky shouts as he jumps up from his squat and begins to pace.

“Have you heard from Y/n? There was a fire at the bookstore and – and, it’s fine. It wasn’t actually the store. That idiot neighbor of hers. The store is fine, but I can’t find them. I can’t find my girls, Nat. I know they are probably fine and I am probably freaking out for nothing, but I can’t find my girls.”

The line is silent for a longest second of Bucky’s life, and then the sweet sound of annoyance in Natasha’s voice flickers through the line, “Boy, are you dumb, James.”

“Would everyone quit saying I’m dumb!” Bucky snaps.

He’s not in the mood today.

“When you quit acting dumb I will stop calling you dumb,” Natasha tells him with the quiet paitence of a mother.

“Y/n took Ori to the planetarium today, and you just said your girls.”

Bucky takes a deep breath, letting his panic rant replay in his head. He did. He’s never done that before. Never said the words out loud because they aren’t his girls – not really. It’s not real yet. It’s still just him and comet, and Y/n is… It’s only hope, a desperate wish he’s made so many times. But that’s all it is. A fantasy he may never have.

“Look– just –-“

“Quit being stupid and go find your girls. Make sure they know they are your girls.”

“Bucky…” A soft, anxious voice calls from behind him, he spins around to see Y/n and Ori standing there, unharmed and holding hands looking thoroughly confused. He’s not this lucky. This has to be a fluke. If this isn’t some very vivid hallucination, he is buying a thousand of those damn wish bracelets.

“Found ‘em. I gotta go Nat.”

In three long strides, Bucky has Ori off the ground and in his arms. He has no idea where his phone went. Doesn’t matter. He can buy another one. His girls are safe and here and that’s all that matters.

“What’s going on? Is everyone okay?” Y/n asks peering around the truck towards her shop that appears okay from the outside.

“Yeah,” Bucky croaks. “Yeah. There was an incident with your neighbor and a hot plate, but everyone is okay.”

Bucky places several kisses to Ori’s face – her forehead, nose, and those chubby cheeks he adores so much. “Everyone is okay,” He repeats one more time, and it’s purely for his sanity.

“Daddy, you’re being weird, and your beard is itchin’ me,” She says with a snicker and tries to wriggle free of the tight hold Bucky has on her.

“I’m sorry, comet. I’m sorry. I just… I needed to hug you.” He chuckles at all her wiggles and takes the hint setting Ori back down on the sidewalk, and she immediately grabs Y/n’s hand. Bucky steps towards Y/n and cups her face in his hands, thumbs softly running over her jaw and takes one final step closer, closing the gap between them.

“Bucky, are you sure everyone is okay? Are you okay?” Y/n asks, fear and nerves making her voice tremble. Her free hand reaches up to wrap around Bucky’s arm, needing stability for whatever Bucky is about to tell her.

“More than okay, Y/n,” he says with a smile and drops his forehead onto hers. “We got the call and… I might have panicked a bit. Okay, a lot. I panicked a lot. I needed to see my girls. I needed to know you were both okay. I had to know my girls were okay.”

“Your… Your girls?” Y/n squeaks, attempting to keep the hope out of her voice and missing the mark by a mile. She’s praying she didn’t misread this for the second time because her heart can’t go through that again.

Bucky only grins. His lips ghost over hers as he breathes against them, “Yeah. My girls.”

There’s a sparkle in her eyes, and he knows she’s about to ask him if he’s sure this is what he wants – if he really meant it the way it sounds. Her hand tightens on his wrist, and she tilts her chin just in time for Bucky to catch those pretty lips he’s spent months dreaming about. He’s had countless daydreams about this moment, and it’s everything and nothing like he dreamt. It’s soft, at first. Hesitant on both sides. As if he is waiting for her to shove him away, but she doesn’t. She melts into him, and they both sink into each other, the way they should have from the very beginning.

Through the years Bucky has kissed a few too many lips, and some had caused sparks, some didn’t, but none lit up every part of him as this one did. He can’t remember why they haven’t been doing this from the moment they met, and now that they have he never wants to stop. The sweetness of her kiss leaves him breathless and begging for more. Whatever tomorrow she has in mind for Bucky is hoping it’s the match to his tomorrow. As long as their next steps are taken together, he can be okay with taking the long route to get here.

Bucky slowly pulls away from her shaking lips, and Y/n immediately pulls him back only to be interrupted by Ori, “Are you gonna kiss all the time now? Because it’s a little gross.”

“Gross?” Bucky huffs, dramatic and comical like always. Y/n snorts and covers her mouth with her hand, a giggly muffled “I’m sorry” slips through her fingers and it only sets Ori off on her own tittering fit.

“I’ll show you gross, comet.” He swoops down and scoops her up, covering her face with kisses until she’s shouting through her giggles to stop. Bucky lifts her above his head and sets her on his shoulder – they aren’t getting out of his reach for the rest of the night, maybe the rest of the week. He drapes his right arm over Y/n’s shoulders and tucks her into his side, holding onto Ori’s ankle with his left hand. She spots his wrist, stripped and missing a particular piece of black leather.

“Hey, what happened to your bracelet?” Y/n asks with a frown.

Bucky looks down at his wrist that’s holding onto Ori’s ankle. Must have fallen off after he took his gloves off, when he was begging for a little more time and one more chance to do it all over. Bucky looks over at her and shrugs, answering her with a mile-wide grin, “My wish came true.”

Y/n grins in return and shakes her head, “Well, talk about lucky, December.”

“Lucky doesn’t begin to cover it, Beck.”

Previous // Epilogue

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #SINGLE DAD AU #single dad bucky #firefighter!bucky #Firefighter AU #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #alternate universe

2K notes · View notes

strange-n-unbluusual · 4 years

Text

Pink! Ch. 4: The Late Date

*Beetlejuice/Original Female Character. Adult situations. 18+ only.*

Summary: After six breather years away, Beetlejuice returns to find the house on the hill overrun by coeds. Lydia allows him to stay, but has rules. Things get more interesting when Beck, one of the housemates, reveals she can see him. Following a sordid affair, Beetlejuice finds himself lingering around Beck more and more. But will her affection last? And why does it seem to bother Lydia so much?

Chapter 1: The Setup

Chapter 2: The Buzzkill Date

Chapter 3: The Ex Lover

This one is a doozy! 18+ only!!

DMs are always open for thoughts, feedback and suggestions. Ty. On AO3 as CopperContessa_13

They weren’t kidding around when they named the place Winter River.

By late November, it was uncommon for the town to go more than a day without being graced by at least another inch of snow. Constantly clearing her car was annoying, but Beck enjoyed the white stuff otherwise.

She smiled when she saw a bright light peeking through her curtains one morning. When she opened her curtains, she saw the sun was reflecting off a fresh layer of snow that had fallen during the night. About six inches lay untouched on the roof outside her window, the rays making it shine like glitter. Some fluffy flakes still floated lazily down from the sky.

Just beyond the roof, she could see the people moving around in the town. The snow there wasn’t quite as untouched as her immediate view, but the scene was still so picturesque.

The plow trucks had already come, easily moving the puffy snow off the roadway. Most driveways were cleared, too, but tire tracks tattled on who’d woken up too late to shovel before work. Focusing on one street in particular, she noticed a man started to clear his neighbor’s driveway after finishing his own.

Children, no doubt on break from school, were already preparing barricades for snowball fights and running down the streets with sleds in hand. During Winter River's first snow this year, Beck asked Lydia if any kids ever came to sled at the house’s hill. Lydia said she’d let them if they tried, but that they hardly got visitors these days.

Something about a bad experience with a Girl Scout and a census taker? Whatever.

Inspired by the scene, Beck dragged her art desk in front of the window. Warmness tickled her feet as she walked past an air vent. Settling in her chair, she turned to a fresh page in her sketchbook and grabbed a piece of charcoal.

It had taken a couple of days for tensions to ease, but they did. Beck and Lydia maintained their distance, but it was more out of respect than compulsion. Lydia had noticeably stayed over at her girlfriend’s house more since the big fight. When Mariah was over, though, they were considerate and quiet. That didn’t go unnoticed by Beck who, consequently, decided it was in poor taste to pointedly use Lydia’s towels to clean up after she and Beetlejuice finished screwing around.

Having the house to herself really did help Beck cleanse any petty energy that remained in her brain. Nice mornings like this, especially, made her worries feel small.

Being alone on Thanksgiving break wasn’t sad or stressful for her. With school in Connecticut and home in New Mexico, she realized early on that a trip home for such a short break just wasn’t worth it. Plus, it wasn’t like she felt alone.

Her parents kept tabs on her through text messages. She had lengthy streaks with both of her sisters on Snapchat. The ghosts were still around, too. Adam and Barbara, whose presence around the place was a bit more common now, would sometimes make idle conversation. And, of course, there was also Beetlejuice who was… a lot.

As if his snarky observations weren’t grating enough when she pretended to not hear them…

Beck didn’t know someone could be so endearing and insufferable at the same time. She’d learned to finish her work at the campus library because, geezus, Beetlejuice was an unstoppable force at home. It didn’t matter if it was noon or midnight, he was always at the door when she got home. She always found the act endearing until he opened his mouth. From the moment she came in through the door, he'd follow her around like a very talkative shadow. Beetlejuice had a surprising amount to say about his day, considering he never left the house.

Books she read, movies she watched, websites she browsed. You name it. Beetlejuice had a very staunch opinion on all of it. Don't even get him started on what he thought of her housemates. Kendra will never be “punk,” Ash’s poetry is shit, Cici’s weird nipples make her boobs look like googly eyes and Lillian is a shallow bitch. Beck had heard it all.

He never had anything bad to say about Lydia, of course.

After his conscious stream of thought ruined the emotional climax of a series she’d been binging, Beck decided she’d had enough. She was about to tell him off when a thought finally occurred to her: he only talks so much because it's been so long since he’s been heard.

It was a cathartic moment.

It was also cathartic when she learned he got really quiet after blowing a load or two.

They had yet to bang outright. He told her that they couldn't. Something about Netherworld bureaucracy barring him from having sex with a mortal without being summoned. Wary of unleashing a demon for the sake of a 30 second bone sesh (give or take, she imagined), Beck decided she was fine with just hand and tongue stuff.

Speaking of bedroom calisthenics, it was weird he wasn’t curled up next to her that morning.

Beck looked up from her drawing pad to glimpse at the town again, but was distracted by something new on the roof.

She adjusted her posture just enough to make out the beady eyes of a snowman sitting outside her window. The snow used to make it was dirty looking, brown and grey. Its eyes and mouth were made up of tiny pebbles. A black and white striped scarf hung loosely from its neck. A gust of wind blew the knit fabric against the (several?) flimsy twigs being used for arms.

“Hey, sugar tits! Coffee’s on!” Beetlejuice announced while kicking the door to her room open.

Beck flinched, causing the charcoal she was holding to make a thick line on the paper. She frowned at the mistake, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. She could probably pass it off as a tree branch or something. Oh well.

Turning to face him, she was relieved to see him holding two mugs. Caffeine was just what she needed.

“You don’t have anything to do with that cute snowman on the roof, do you, Lawrence?” she asked while grabbing a cup.

“Cute? He’s not cute,” Beetlejuice scoffed. “Look at him peeping into your room! That dirty pervert.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve let that slide.”

He grinned and pulled her to his side with his free arm. She tried her best to ignore the gesture, opting to clutch her hot mug with both hands instead of embracing him back. Messing around was one thing, but she still wasn’t sure what to do when he made affectionate little gestures like these.

Still, there were worse ways to start a morning.

Beck took a sip of the coffee. Her face twisted into disgust.

“Something wrong, babes?”

“W-what did you use to make this?”

“Dirt and water,” He said taking a gulp of the stuff. “Why do you think the snowman is so dirty? I spent the morning digging through the garden to make this.”

Trying to contain her repulsion, Beck calmly walked over to her dresser and set the mug down.

“What? Is this not how you’re supposed to do it?” he asked. “Lydia said it was made with plants.”

“Yeah! A coffee plant. Which is definitely not topsoil.”

“Well I got it from the garden, didn’t I?!”

Beck took a deep breath.

“You are… something,” she said.

“I don’t get your deal. It tastes the same to me,” he shrugged.

“Stop drinking that!”

Beetlejuice stared her down as he chugged the rest. He patted his tummy and made a satisfied “ah” noise. Beck rolled her eyes but cracked a smile.

Jokes on him, she thought. She wouldn’t touch him again until he used some mouthwash.

You can’t have a weak stomach when you’re with someone like him, Beck had learned. If it wasn’t clear from the moss on his face and the dust that wafted off of him when he moved, they guy had an affinity for filth. What was more frustrating than the dirty clothes and greasy hair, though, was that she knew he could do something about it with a wave of his hand. Fucker didn’t even need to shower! He just liked being that way!

Beck liked her men dirty, though.

“I was just trying to do something nice for you,” he grumbled.

“Hon, I know, but it’s gross” Beck laughed.

She slightly regretted using the pet name when she saw him visibly perk up at its use.

“Let me get changed and I’ll make a real breakfast,” she quickly added.

“Are you gonna make pancakes?!” he gasped, lighting up further.

“If you want, I guess.”

“Fuck yeah!”

⁂

Later in the day, they’d decided to turn on a movie. One of Beetlejuice’s favorites— The Exorcist. He was so enamored with the screen he didn’t even see her slip away. He was re-alerted of her presence at the sound of heels clicking on the kitchen’s wood floor. He whipped his head around, desperate to get a view of her from the living room.

Beck was wearing tall brown boots and very tight jeans. The straps of a lacey bralette peeked out tastefully from under a knit sweater. A bit of jewelry and makeup accentuated her features. Her hair fell in big, loose waves just above her shoulders. Her coat and purse were held under one arm.

Beetlejuice wolf whistled, grabbing her attention.

“You look like a million bucks, Beck!” Beetlejuice said, walking over and slapping her ass.

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly. “I actually wanted to wear this cute bandeau and jacket I picked up the other day, but I’ll save that for when it gets warmer. Hoes don’t get cold, but they do get pneumonia.”

“Why are you worried about getting sick? I thought you were staying in today.”

“No. I actually need to head out soon.”

“Why? Grocery store closing?”

“No, Lawrence,” Beck giggled. “I’m going to the pub downtown. This guy from my sculpting class struck up a conversation with me about craft beer. Apparently he knows the woman who owns the place. We’re gonna try some of their new pours together.”

Beetlejuice was quiet for a moment before he finally responded with a breathy laugh.

“If I didn’t know you any better, Bexley, I’d say it sounds like you’re going on a date.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Yeah I am. My first since Lydia.”

“Well, you can’t go then!” he snapped.

She looked up at him in surprise.

“And why the fuck not?” Beck spat back.

“Because you and I are already together.”

Oh boy.

Beck’s mouth gaped open for a second, not exactly sure what to say.

“No, we’re not,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry I never laid it out, but what we have is strictly casual.”

“It’s not casual, babes,” he insisted.

Beetlejuice’s words were calm, but she didn’t miss the bits of red that were starting to fleck his green hair.

“We can talk about this later,” Beck said dismissively. “I need to go.”

Beetlejuice pinned her against the wall, holding her firmly in place by clutching her forearms above her head. Her shoes felt like they were glued to the ground— likely his powers holding her. She struggled against him, but quickly realized it was useless.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“No, baby, never,” Beetlejuice cooed into her ear. “I’m just going to prove a point.”

“What point?”

“That your fucking little breather flings can’t hold a candle to how good I make you feel.”

Beck didn’t get a chance to respond before he hoisted her from the wall and laid her on the nearby countertop. He quickly undid her jeans but looked at her for approval before pulling them down. She hesitated for a moment before shrugging.

“Prove your point, big shot. Make it fast.”

Beck knew she was being greedy and inconsiderate for pulling a stunt like this so close to her date, but she couldn't help herself. She'd become addicted to his constant attention.

She tensed at the coldness of his tongue, but it quickly warmed inside her. It always did. One of Beetlejuice’s hands grasped her thigh while the thumb of the other worked her clit. Her hips spasmed at infrequent intervals at the pleasureful sensation.

She loved the way his tongue pulsed inside her at a steady rhythm. At first she was turned off by how inhuman in looked— wormlike and darker than a human one. The way it could stretch and move her, though, was incomparable to anything else she'd experienced. He was already driving her wild, his movements simple but skilled.

He wasn’t allowed to know that, of course.

Beetlejuice looked up at Beck. She was supported on her elbows, giving her enough height to look back down at him blankly. He knew she was trying her best to be unenthused, but her act wasn’t convincing. Aside from her electrified hips, he could read the lust in her eyes and hear the lilt of an occasional whine leave her mouth.

Not good enough.

Craving a more intense reaction, he slid out to tease her ass for a second. When she opened her mouth to gasp, he quickly rammed the tongue back into its familiar sheath. Beck’s hips bucked into his mouth and she let out long, pleasurable cry.

Beetlejuice smirked, raising an eyebrow at her from his spot below.

“Don’t get cocky,” she groaned.

Repositioning, he placed a hand on either of her thighs and spread her legs further apart. He took a second to appreciate how beautiful and vulnerable she was in this position before diving in headfirst again. She panted, weaving a needy hand in his hair. She'd move him gently, desperate to chase her orgasm with his help. She loved it when he maneuvered so that his appendage could both rub her little pleasure button and fill her insides.

She closed her eyes, imagining it was his cock filling her instead.

After manipulating her with his mouth for a while, Beetlejuice withdrew. Beck, who’d mostly shucked off her pants by that point, wrapped a desperate leg around the back of his head. She tried to push him back into place.

“I’m so fucking close,” she pleaded, “Please don’t stop.”

Everything in him wanted to oblige her.

Beetlejuice was obsessed. He craved to feel her fall apart in his hands. After so many rendezvous like this, it started to felt like his purpose in unlife was to worship her body. It felt like sin to not to give in to her wants.

But he had a point to make…

Beetlejuice kissed her left thigh, the wetness from around his mouth transfering partially onto her with it.

“You can cum when you tell me that no breather will ever satisfy you again.”

“That no wha-? Oh!”

She threw her head back and arched towards him as he slowly slid a thick finger in. The speed was disappointing and teasingly slow. Sitting upright now, Beck tried to stimulate herself further but was unable. Her hips felt like they were being held in place, making it impossible to ramp up the speed by rocking back and forth. Her hands, similarly, felt stuck to the counter. It kept her from playing with her clit.

Beck tried to contain her frustration but failed miserably. Finger still moving painstakingly slow, Beetlejuice watched her thin veneer of calm fall apart. A deep, grounding sigh from her lips slowly became a vexed protest. He laughed openly at her struggle and pressed his forehead against hers. The proximity gave them both a rush.

“Say ‘you’ve spoiled my body too much’ and maybe I’ll let you cum,” he said.

“I’ve had better!” Beck spat back.

He bit her neck in response. Pleased at the scream he elicited from her, he kissed the mark it made.

“Don’t do that! I don’t want Nathan to see it.”

"Fuck Nathan!"

Beetlejuice was about to bite harder when he got distracted by a buzzing noise. They both got quiet. Looking around, he realized it was coming from her jacket on the floor. It, along with her purse, were knocked out of her hands when he pushed her against the wall.

She grumbled when his hand and face left her body. Beetlejuice leaned down and fished the buzzing thing— her cellphone— out of her jacket. He looked at the glowing screen, an evil grin spreading on his face when he saw who was calling her.

“Pick it up. Now,” he demanded as he tossed it to her.

He dismissed the restraint from one of her hands, allowing her to catch. She swallowed nervously before answering.

“H-hi Nathan."

Beetlejuice resumed his position on her neck and teased her entrance with his fingers. As he placed his other hand on the small of her back, Beck realized with horror what he was about to do.

She bit her lip to suppress a moan as two of his thick fingers slammed into her repeatedly. It made her crazy, feeling the hilt of his hand ram against her pelvis. Beck tried to close her thighs to buffer the movement, but his powers still kept her position locked. He nibbled and sucked her neck, careful not to bite too hard this time. She liked it when he paid attention to the spot on her collar bone, too, he'd learned.

Her body trembled at the sensations. A tremor was in her voice, too.

“I’m not standing you up, I promise,” she laughed nervously into the phone. “I, uh, I’m stuck at my house. My car won’t start. Sometimes that happens when it gets too cold.”

Beck let out a yelp as Beetlejuice put a third digit into her.

“No! I’m fine. My back just hurts from hunching over my desk all day. W-what was that? Oh! Uh, yeah that’d be awesome. You're the best. I’ll see you in five.”

She hung up the phone, immediately tossing it aside in order to manipulate her clit. Beetlejuice laughed against her skin.

“Not so cool now are you, Bexley.”

“Shut up and finger fuck me like you mean it.”

That was all the prodding he needed.

Her sweater bunched up as the hand on her back clenched into a fist. Beetlejuice started kissing her on the mouth. Beck kissed back, fiery need consuming them both. When he untethered her other hand, he was surprised to feel her tugging his pants down. He moaned into her mouth at the way she stroked him.

Beck's concentration on him wavered. She broke their kiss and stopped manipulating his cock, too focused on getting herself off before she had to leave.

A long and drawn out scream soon crescendoed from Beck’s mouth. It was so unabashed it almost made Beetlejuice blush. He loved it when she didn't care who heard her cumming. I made him feel powerful. The Maitlands were probably somewhere out of sight and clutching their pearls over it. He certainly didn't give a fuck, though.

“Oh, fuck, baby. That’s right. Ride it out,” he whispered.

Combined with the feeling of her hand on his cock, the sensation of her body clenching around his fingers was almost too much. Beetlejuice was close to climax, too.

Regaining control of herself, Beck's hand started working him again. Beetlejuice grunted and came all over the base of the countertop.

They just stared at each other after coming down from their respective highs. The silence spoke volumes.

In a moment of tenderness, Beetlejuice tried to kiss Beck, but she turned her head.

Wordlessly, she readjusted her clothing. He watched bemused as she maneuvered her hair to fall over the purple and red mark he’d left on her skin. Hearing a car horn honk outside, she picked up her things and headed for the door.

Beck dared to glance back at him one last time.

Beetlejuice smirked back, mouthing the word “spoiled."

She slammed the door behind her.

⁂

The date was a bust. Nathan didn’t even go in for a kiss when he dropped her off.

It's not like she had anyone else to blame but herself, though.

Beck was distant the whole time, her mind more interested in replaying what had just happened rather than listen to her date talk. When she did pay Nathan mind, it wasn't for long. She was self-conscious about hiding the hickey on her neck. She was too distracted to give meaningful answers to the questions he asked. She was too overwhelmed with the worry that he could smell Beetlejuice on her. It wasn't long before he gave up on coaxing conversation out of her.

“Whelp. See you in class Tuesday,” he sighed when he dropped her off.

"Thank you. I'm sorry," was all she could manage to say back.

She really did feel sorry. She really did like him.

Beck was surprised that Beetlejuice wasn’t waiting for her in the foyer. She thought for sure he would been itching to gloat about how he was right. About how that dumb breather didn’t have a chance with her and all that.

He wasn’t waiting in her room when she got up there, either.

This was so unlike him, Beck thought. Where the hell could he be?

The ceiling above her room creaked.

“That bastard,” she muttered.

The message was clear: not only did he demand that she grovel, he demanded she actually go up to the attic to do it.

Resolved that she wouldn’t play his game, Beck started to get ready for bed and kicked off her shoes. Tossing her keys onto her dresser, she noticed the coffee cup that had been left there earlier. The art desk was still by the window, too, along with the drawing she’d been working on.

Picking up the sketch pad, she noticed the thick black line from before was gone. The picture, otherwise, was the same aside from the addition of two crudely drawn figures. A man and a woman peered out at the rest of the town from a window in the top part in one of the houses. The detail was hard to make out, but she could tell they were holding teeny tiny coffee cups.

Beck smiled despite herself.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice fandom #drama #writing #fluff #original female character #adult language #beetlejuice nsft #nsft

10 notes · View notes

omnomsauruswrites · 5 years

Text

Mirror, Mirror

Pairing: Bucky x you

Summary: Sometimes the voice in your head is too much.

Warning: SMUT. Didn’t plan it, though I think it works. You have the right to tell me it doesn’t. Shrug.

His finger traced the scar of his shoulder, where metal met skin, met claw marks. The scars still red. A remind of his days as a weapon, as a cold-blooded killer. He could still remember trying to claw at his skin to get his Hydra arm off. The marks fit perfectly with five fingers.

He sighed. His eyes drifted to his hard muscles, his finger then poking his stomach. Immovable. Impenetrable. Rock hard. Stubborn ass. Adjectives that you had used against him. His mind grasped on to them like lashes to the brain.

You had been furious. Your eyes blazed with a hatred he’d never seen in them before. You had always been soft, always sweet like honey. But last night the team had gone dancing and you had been swept away by a much handsomer man that probably didn’t have scars or marrings. That could hold you close and not worry about what you thought about his metal arm.

He had hidden in the corner of the bar, watching you, as your eyes glittered. Steve and Sam insisted that he should cut in, that you would want to dance with him. But he nursed his beer and took in the scene.

After an hour and hearing the voice in his head beat him up for not being good enough, he decided to say goodnight. You caught him on his way, tugging on his arm.

“Stay,” you insisted.

He shook his head. You tilted your head in question. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He huffed, of course you’d catch on. You were a behavioral specialist. You tapped your foot in impatience, waiting for an answer. The glitter in your eyes gone, replaced with frustration. “If I was…,” he paused, clearing his throat and saying softly, as if confessing it would kill him. “If I was normal, I’d have you all over this dance floor. But I’m not, we know that, and you deserve … you deserve something better.”

Your eyes widened with his confession. You knew his self loathing ran deep but you had never heard it expressed. “And what if that’s not what I want?”

He shook his head, moving around her, but she grabbed his arm. “Don’t be a stubborn ass. What if I don’t want that. What if I want you? What if I don’t want normal? Huh?”

“You don’t know what you want,” he said, trying to pull away.

“Excuse me!” she screeched. “I knew you could be immovable, impenetrable, rock hard but jesus, tellling me I don’t know what I want is a low blow, even for you, James.”

He tugged his arm again and this time she let go. “Fine, be a stubborn ass. But you really should look at Tumblr.”

He stared at the mirror, again, seeing only his scars. Then he remember your last sentence, ‘you should really look at Tumblr.”

His eyes went to his iPad on his desk. “FRIDAY, what is Tumblr.”

“It’s a social media website that allows people to post memes, gifs, stories, make friends,” the AI replied.

That didn’t really help clarify. He still wasn’t literate on the internet. He sighed. “Does it have posts about me.”

There was a pause. “Yes, there are several thousand.”

His brain stopped. Several thousand. That had posts about him. “About me?” he said aloud.

“Posts, accounts, yes.”

“Why?”

“Well according to one, you have the thickest thighs that they want to be trapped between. Another wants to be choked by your metal hand during sex.”

That really did make his brain stop. Since his release from Hydra, he hadn’t seen himself as attractive and now he learned that people had accounts just about him. Not only that but people wanted them to touch him with his hand, wait not touch, choke. “Where’s y/n?”

“Y/n did not come home last night and her tracker is off, Sgt Barnes.”

His breath hitched. You never turned off your tracker unless you wanted space or ……

You looked at the rumpled bed sheets, the full length mirror on the other side of the room. The picture painted there was you with mussed hair. One would think you were thourghly debauched but that wasn’t the case.

After Bucky had left, you excused yourself as well, walking the snowy streets of NYC. You had hoped that the outing would help Bucky to branch out but it had done the opposite. You wandered several blocks before deciding to take a taxi to Queens to your hideout.

You had no desire to go back to the Tower because you would probably confront Bucky if you did. He needed to figure it out for himself. Needed to see for himself. Pushing him to see what you saw wasn’t going to help. But it didn’t make you feel any less guilt for leaving him be. You had tossed and turned all night.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You hand grasped it to see Bucky’s name and photo staring back at you. You hit the accept, “what?”

“Do my thighs excite you?”

You shot from your bed, surprised by his opener. “I’m sorry, run that by me again?” you asked.

“Do my thighs excite you?”

You pulled the phone away from your ear and looked at it, confirming that it was indeed Bucky calling you. “OK, are you high?”

He chuckled. “You told me to look at Tumblr, so I asked FRIDAY to do it and according to her there are women who wouldn’t mind being between my thighs. Thus, the question, do my thighs excite you?”

“I mean….” you paused, how much did you want to reveal about your crush on the former assassin. “If I died between your thighs it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

He barked out a laugh, then you continued. “But I’m interested in the whole package really. Not saying your muscular, killer thighs don’t do it for me, but that’s not the main reason.”

“So there’s another body part your attracted to, doll?” he teased.

“Yeah, your eyes are quite beautiful. Makes me remember slate blue mountains in winter. Makes me want to stare at them forever.”

Silence hung thick over the phone and in the air. But you decided to push forward. “You see yourself as a big, bulky assassin with scars. You see what HYDRA wants you to see. What I see, is a handsome man, scarred, but living. Who has a smile that can light up a room when he wants. Who can joke and tease with a couple of narcissistic super heroes. Who has arms that can protect, yet make one feel safe. You, Bucky Barnes, are more complicated and gorgeous than you give yourself credit for. And yes, you have wonderful thighs and women on Tumblr swoon over them. They also swoon over your arms, your smile, your eyes. But there’s more to you than that, Buck.”

You paused. You heard his faint breathing on the other side. You knew it was a lot for him to take in. You knew you probably overshared. “Where are you?” he asked.

“Way to stay on topic, Barnes.”

“You didn’t come home.”

“I’m in Queens at my hideout.”

“Give me an address.”

He looked at the door. Your confession had him reeling. He was shocked with your honesty. You two had been dancing around for months and here you were this morning giving him the pep talk of his life.

He raised his hand to knock and waited. You opened the door a few minutes later in a shirt. “Come in,” you greeted, gesturing for him to the foyer.

He walked in taking in the slightly tidy area before you moved towards the back and he followed. He watched you walk, noticing the length of the shirt hitting your knees. He realized, “That’s my shirt.”

You turned your head and smirked. “Had it for months.”

He reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him and then intrapping you against the hallway wall. “You steal anything else of mine, doll?” he asked, eyes staring deep into yours.

You smiled at him. Your arms going to his chest, fingers lightly tracing. “Maybe. But you haven’t noticed, so it’s not like you are missing it.”

He licked his lips, before asking the question he wanted to on the phone. “Did you mean it?”

His eyes searched yours, looking for the truth. Your hand moved from his chest to his cheek. “Every word, handsome.”

He didn’t hesitate in capturing your lips. It was desperate and hot. It was needy. He pushed his body against yours, hands intertwining in your hair. You rocked your hips against his and a groan passed his lips.

His lips left yours down to your jaw, kissing and nipping to your collarbone. You whimpered in his ear before slipping your hands under his shirt, fingers tracing his abs. You whispered, “Let me show you things I want to do to you between your thighs.”

You licked the shell of his ear, as he stopped his ministrations, pulling away to look at you. Eyes blown in lust, abs clenched. He looked feral, but you turned and pushed him against the wall, switching places. Your hands pulled up his shirt kissing upwards from his abs to his chest. Your tongue dipping into where skin met metal, and he moaned. Your wicked tongue caused his cock to twitch in his pants and he felt them tighten. “Y/n,” he growled.

You tisked. “Patience,” you murmured, kissing down and kneeling on the floor.

Your fingers unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down before your hand palmed him through his briefs. He bucked against it and groaned. His body craved release, as your tongue followed the like of the elastic of his underwear. “This is what the girls dream of,” she confessed, her hand stroking him. “As much as they want you between their thighs, Buck, they want this view to.”

He looked at you, seeing you watching him beneath your lashes. Your hand teased him, as your tongue licked your lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” you promised before pushing down the last barrier and your tongue caressed the vein of his cock.

His fingernails digged into the wall behind him, as he tried not to come just from the first few seconds of your ministrations. You hummed your approval, as this time you took him in your mouth. He groaned and his body lit up like a match. He felt it in the pit of his stomach unlike before. You bobbed slowly, your tongue swirling. He cursed. “Doll….” he gasped.

You hummed again, which cause his cock to vibrate. “Fuck.”

You smiled against him. You took one of his hands, guiding it to your head. He looked at you concerned but your eyes showed that you wanted this. So he threaded his hand, guiding your mouth a little faster on him.

Your hands went to his thighs, nails scrapping, emphasizing their strength. He twitched in your mouth. “Y/n,” he groaned again.

You sucked a little harder, before releasing him so you could praise him, as your hands pumped. “This what you imagined when you thought of me between your thighs, Sarge.” His hips thrusted forward in your hand. “This what you think about when you masturbate. My mouth on your delicious cock.”

He groaned again. “Who knew you had a filfthy mouth, doll,” he muttered out.

Your tongue swiped his slit collecting the pre-cum and he jerked again. “So sexy. So handsome. Can’t wait to see what your like when you cum.”

His hand pulled on your hair, forcing your eyes upward and you saw his blown irises full of need. You tried not to chuckle before taking him back in your mouth. This time sucking harder and faster. You felt his fingers in your scalp, trying not to push your head into him, but you decided to encourage it by putting your hands on his ass pushing you deeper in his mouth. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, y/n…” he babbled incoherently.

You felt his member twitch in your mouth. You knew he was close, so you pushed your tongue against the vein and soon enough he was cumming in your mouth, shouting your name. You swallowed all his cum, as you realized it had been awhile since he had orgasmed that hard, as he twitched in your mouth. You smiled, as he stopped, pulling away. You pushed up from the floor, moving to kiss him. Then you added, “Want to find out the other things I want to do between your thighs?”

@valkyrieofsmut @winchesterswantmypie @scuzmunkie @littleravenwrites @cari105 @soldierplum @muggleluna @youreahandsomedevil @coal000 @xxashy999xx @wishingforahome @lokissoul @lost-in-translating @randomfandompenguin @verygraphicink (taglists are open)

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #lemon

457 notes · View notes

helloimnotlame · 6 years

Text

First Time - Seth Rollins Smut

A/N: Requested by anon (so sorry it took so long i got a life for 6 days) hope I fulfilled it to your liking! Long af, Thanks for reading, feedback is vv appreciated !!

Roaring spews of golden dipped vermilion dwelled upon bristled bark like fog against a hazy horizon in a cage of brass and bricks before you. The luminous scent of crisp firewood it gave off intertwined with your boyfriend Seth Rollin’s cologne, the vibe spreading throughout the room laying you content in the curve of his masculine figure. The subtle sparks of fire against wood accompanied his raspy voice as he spoke. “Me n’ Ambrose - we were walking around the arena and these crappy shoes hurt like hell. I swear I’d rather walk on needles ” Your eyes focused on the fireplace while listening to him mindlessly ramble on about his day as if it were a hobby as moments like these where Seth actually spoke emotions came rare. He’d always ask you about his day and when you tried to return the favor he always shrugged it off so you took the opportunity.

“My feet hurt - I start talking about it n’ this guy comes up to me askin if he can rub my feet” He paused completely dumbfound, the air he sucked in representing it. “Who asks somebody to rub their feet in the middle of a hallway” You giggled at his unusual interaction however you found it believable, and sometimes could even imagine yourself in the persons shoes. “Maybe he genuinely cared about your comfort” you defended on his behalf, shrugging suggestively up against Seth with a sly smile.

“What no - he’s literally just some 50 old virgin - being weird and gettin’ off to feet and stuff” Seth ridiculed harsher - his face scrunching up at the fact that you were defending him. Personally, Seth despised the thought of doing more than looking at a person’s feet and close-mindedly refused to see how other people could. By his strained and defensive demeanor you could tell he was really bothered by it, as if his pride was on the line - so you decided to change the topic.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin” laughs protruded under your tone , earning a simple shrug from Seth. “No - No there’s not but they just do weird stuff” It was the stereotype. If you were doing something abnormal you were instantly labeled as someone who had never been touched before. “Oh okay so, Do I do weird things?” You questioned hastily, your words stunning him like a spray of ocean water to the face of the blazing sun.

“Da….” His gaze fell off into the distance as if he was looking for the right words to say. His long eyelashes fluttered waves with each word that trembled fear of upsetting you. “You..I mean…I wouldn’t say it’s because you’re a virg- I mean that’s just you and how you are as an individual and - I love you…for it” Your eyes diverted from the flames to him - watching him struggle to eat his words in each breath he took. “Mhmm ya I believe you, Seth” your words leaked sarcasm causing him to grin. “Hey ok you think you’re cute. You ain’t innocent missy.” His slender body curved so he laid on top of you, your body sinking into the soft couch below. “Oh me?” You questioned with the softest voice you could put on through the sarcasm that refused to leave your mouth , your breath hitching lightly as you felt his warm physique press down onto yours creating little balls of spark through your clothes. After all, He wasn’t lying. Even though you had never truly had sex with someone you knew just about from what Seth was mentioning of feet to even weirder things. “Yes you” He chuckled, his brown eyes peering into yours with soft quills. “When are we gonna take care of that little thing anyways - huh?” Cotton grew in your throat at his words. The most you had ever done to yourself was graze your clit or barely manage to get one finger in - but you were more than excited to feel the hype of sex that had society drunk. It wasn’t that you were scared either - Seth had the trust of your life but it was the matter of going through it that made you anxious. “I’m ready” you assured Seth, with a small shrug to his actual question.

“Right now?” Seth questioned almost immediately, his forehead drifting off against yours. Watching his gaze stare into yours for confirmation made your heart race. This was actually going to happen. “Yeah…right now…” you trailed off with a deep shaky breath - your brain prepping deep speculation for what was to come next. A shy smile itched onto his lips, his defined cheek bones curling with it. “Really?” His tone was cheeky with shock that he - a scrub in his eyes was going to be the one that you entrusted with a gem. That he will be the one to take the precious peace of innocence you kept all these years. “Really - Seth yes” you shrugged anxiously making him chuckle, his lips pressing against the tender lining of your jaw. “You’re just too cute” he purred, your skin chilling at his change of tone. Just a second ago he was all gushy now his voice was consumed with lust and seduction from the thought of indulging in his lover. You couldn’t help but get turned on, your legs sliding against him, his wet lips grasping the vulnerable skin buried in the crook of your neck to the rhythm of want his hands drummed against your waist. You stifled out shy moans to the sensations , the worry of sounding weird clouding you from true expression but Seth noticed this and couldn’t stand it. He didn’t expect full on porn star moans nor wanted them. He wanted to know all that he was doing to you. “It’s okay babe - I got you. Just let go” he rasped, the vibrations his mutters induced strumming against your chest. His hands were subtle suctions as they rose to cup your breasts through your shirt, a loud moan woven with shock and pleasure slipping from your mouth feeling the skin succumb to his grip.

“That’s it. Can I take it off?” His chocolate eyes peered at you through the loose strands of hair dangled effortlessly against his face. You gave him the signal with a quick nod, anticipation filling the pit of your stomach. You watched his body slither down your legs, your shirt flipping up briefly - his lips replacing the comfort of the cloth. The intensity of his kisses rose with your shirt, the fabric brimmed to your chin, Seth too busy indulging in your bra covered chest to take it off completely. His smile curved with gentle fascination at the scene causing you to giggle. Of course during your relationship he’s seen you naked - but never close up like this and it drove him crazy with want. His fingers crawled under your back against the couch, unhooking your bra with ease. “Arms up” he demanded, your arms draping against the couch arm as you let him slide off your top garments, they making a muddle against the soft rum carpet below. His lips clasped one nipple into the warmth of his mouth, your sensitive nob subduing under the smooth damp surface of his tongue, sending pleasurable yet unfamiliar sensation to your breasts. Seth grew conscious in ensuring he wasn’t doing anything wrong, his gaze meeting yours as he savored your taste, watching each fold and twitch your mouth made above him. Warm silk blanketed the curve of your nipple with passion driven to pleasure you, the sting it sent gentle yet demanding.

Just as you started to get used to the sensation, your nipple puckered out of his mouth , bouncing back against your breast. “You liked that , huh baby?” Seth purred as he crept further down your body. You nodded your head shyly but that wasn’t satisfactory for Seth. “Tell me” he demanded, the brim of your pants in the folds of his fingers. Thick saliva folded in the start of your throat as you tapped into the succession of courage through your shyness of lustful expression. “I liked it, Seth” you spoke with a much louder voice than before but it still failed to satisfy Seth. He wanted the satisfaction of hearing your voice pronounce each and every foul word in the dictionary. "You liked what?“

“My-my nipple in your mouth” you stuttered in a low whimper. Seth hummed in response, his dick twitching at each word “That’s my good girl”. Filth filled his mind - hearing your profane language being one of the hottest things in the world to him and it never failed to make him hard. His thick fingers intertwined with the hem of your pants, your panties caught in the hook. Your bottoms skid painfully slow down your legs the cold air attacking your skin with chills, Seth’s lips not helping as they kissed roses against them. Your bottoms joined your top in the muddle across the floor, your body presented completely bare on display for Seth. His melted eyes did numbers across your bare skin as he took in every inch of your nude body. Seeing you like this made his mouth water, every inch of your skin being fueling both his desires and lust.

“My god (Y/N)…you’re so beaut-fuck…spread those legs for me” He rasped in awe, positioning his head inbetween the inside of your thighs just as you spread them revealing your untouched cunt. Seth hummed, his lips kissing the tender skin of your thighs sending fragile sensations through your body. His tongue flicked against the hood of your clit shocking you as the fragile sensations intensified immensely - the new effortless feeling of ecstasy clouding your lower half with pleasure. “Oh..” you moaned, bucking your hips mindlessly, Seth’s tongue digging deeper into your hood. Slurping sounds soon filled the air as Seth went down on you delivering pleasure throughout your body, his lips savoring the taste of you. This moment had been a big fantasy of his ever since the two you of started dating, just the though of eating you out being enough to turn him on. Seth’s became messy as he was lost in desire , his spit soaking your pussy lips, the cold liquid trickling a trail to your hole prying a loud moan from your lips at the new experience. Rigid vibrations muttered from his mouth as his lips sucked sensually on your clit , his dark beard drenched in a mix of your juices. His forefinger poked into your clenched tight opening , your body instinctively tensing up at the pain it caused. Seth noticed your discomfort, his other hand immediately caressing your thigh in efforts to relax you.

"Shhh, Shhhh I got you. It’s gonna hurt a little baby girl alright ? - and you tell me if it does.“ He directed in a soothing hush , his carefulness calming you knowing he’d stop if it got too much. But fear that it would clouded your mind as just one of his fingers hurt like hell. "Okay” you whimpered trust in him, your legs trembling from the mix of emotions. One hand was back on your clit massaging small circles while the other pressed into your opening - Seth’s plan to relieve the ache with pleasure. Everything went dark - the light of the fire still visible through your closed eyes at the feeling of him invading your tight hole. Watching your reaction Seth began to worry, instinctively retracting his finger not wanting to hurt you. As soon as his finger left, you felt your hole re-clench all over again, disappointment escaping your mouth in the form of a gasp. “No, no keep going” you reassured him, earning a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “My strong lady” Seth praised only imaging how bad you were feeling right now, the sensation of his forefinger pushing you apart returning.

After a while the sensation wasn’t too bad but just came with an enormous amount of discomfort, his fingers being much thicker and longer than yours. His finger protruded slowly in and out of your hole until he felt you loosen up. “Ready for more?” His voice was deep yet softened with care and patience. You nodded in confirmation, sucking your breath in with preparation to start again. Seth’s middle finger pushed in alongside his fore, your hole making way painfully for his the force. After moments of clenching and squeezing , Seth’s middle and index finger rested inside you like plyers forcing open a rubber band. “You doing alright?” Seth asked consciously, watching your expression. “Yea - keep coming ” you forced out under your breath. It did hurt like hell but you knew it was only gonna get better with time. A few minutes of your hole stretching the discomfort and pain started to go away. Between the sensations Seth delivered to your clit and feeling his long fingers dig into your wetness the experience began to be pleasurable. Soft moans trailed from your lips as your body released its tension, submitting to the arousal. But fingers could only go so deep. You needed more. “Seth..” you whimpered with shaky breathes through the pleasure grabbing his focus from off your pussy. “I want it.” Seth smacked his lips along to the rhythm of his head shaking, his fingers still working you. "I don’t know what ‘It’ is you gotta tell me what you want baby girl". Not this again. You knew he knew what you wanted and it felt weird having to say it out loud constantly. Another audible whimper hummed through your body - following with your hips bucking. It only made Seth quicken his pace, his wet fingers rubbing furiously on your clit causing you to moan louder with ecstasy. “Hmm? You gonna tell me?” he pressed , spitting down onto your folds lubricating your clit. The curve of your spine arched at the change of pace - the pleasure becoming overwhelming . Your mouth showed just how intense it was with a symphony of moans. "Fuck me Seth - I want your dick” you blurted out. Seth hummed at your foul outburst a cheeky smirk planting on his lips. “That’s my girl” You watched as Seth slicked his wet fingers from your hole, his body declining onto his knees. His hairy knuckles slid down the black sweat pants that clung onto his waist, his pulsing rock solid length that ached for a taste of you springing from it’s cage and smacking his toned V-line. A rosey red invaded the tip of his vein protruded cock a growl of relief slipping from Seth's mouth the feeling of being contained dissolving. From the near drawer, Seth pulled out a silver condom the package ripping open under his fingers. The latex slid on snuggly around his cock as he slid the rubber down his shaft. Positioning himself up against your opening, your breathing started to quicken. He was pretty big and the thought of it pushing inside of you made you ache already but you wanted to get it over with.

“Ready?” Seth asked reassuringly, you nodding in confirmation to his carefulness closing your eyes ready to bare the pain. Your back arched to the hisses that strung from Seth’s mouth as he pushed ever so slowly into your tightness - his eyes squeezing together at the immense feeling of your walls clinging onto his cock. Your breath was taken away at the feeling of your lower half being slowly ripped into, the numbing pain staining your stomach with a pit of inferno . Desperate for something to clutch onto your hands fumbled against the fabric of the couch until Seth’s bigger hand took hold of you, his body declining down onto you in a missionary position. His forehead melted into yours, his clouded eyes buried into your sulked ones in the moment of importance. Your teary gaze met his with your lips dry in agape at how bad it hurt. “It’s okay baby girl you got this alright, you’re doing good” Seth encouraged through rigid breathes, all of his pulsing inches filling your walls, soreness swimming in your lower half to the rapid clenches you made in attempt to adjust to the new feeling. Seth flew peppermints if kisses against your face, his lips resting on the tip of your nose as he rested inside of you. “Tell me when you want me to move okay?” he hissed his eyes not leaving yours. You took your time, letting your walls expand around his cock until you felt you were ready. “Now” you whimpered, Seth’s figure leaving your gaze, your eyes squeezing closed to the painful penetration as Seth rocked his hips in sedative thrusts, his hisses becoming deep growls.

After a while of being limp to the pain and discomfort you adjusted around his massive size - the feeling of Seth’s hard on violating your walls beginning to hell pleasurable. The feeling cascaded through the pent up tension and pain, Your eyes fluttering open to your lips letting go of a few moans. Seth lit up, a grin spreading across his face seeing you had did it. Together. “That’s my girl” he purred, his grip on your hand tightening as he made love to you. His soft pace sent pleasure through your body his fragile thrusts deepened with his growls, you realizing what was coming next. Seth’s dick twitched inside of you his balls tightening against your mound, his dick shooting hard ropes into the condom, loud growls of pure satisfaction escaping from the both of your mouths. Seth hummed as he slid out of you, placing a kiss to your forehead as his lazy figure left yours to the cold exposed air as he disposed of the condom. You took the moment to steady your breathing and let all that happened sink in, your virginity now in the safe of your lover Seth’s heart. Right after he did, he was back by your side, cradling you into the side of his warm body, caressing you to the sound of the fire. “My angel… That was fuckin’ great” Seth praised through a tired yet excited mumble, his hair matted against the soft narrow face. “I’m glad you were my first” you admitted shyly. Although it lowkey felt like you got your ass beat, this was an experience you’ll never forget. “Who else would be” he questioned soft-heartedly “You’re mine, don’t you forget that.”

#wwe smut #wwe dirty imagine #seth rollins smut #seth rollins dirty imagine #thistooksolongandistoolongineedhelp #smut #dirty imagine #kdonewithtags

232 notes · View notes

taronfanfic · 7 years

Text

Graduate’s Escape

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7

Sorry - long chapter... I got a bit carried away!

Chapter 8

Entering Taron’s apartment was much less daunting this time around. You kicked your shoes straight off and allowed the thick carpet to sooth your soles. A hasty trip to the bathroom to clean yourself up gave Taron chance to pour a couple of drinks and dim the lights. As you returned he was relaxed in the centre of his sofa with one leg resting over his knee and his arm outstretched along the cushions, inviting you to nestle down against his side.

“I’ve been trying to work out how’s best to phrase this, but I don’t think there is a good way. I need to ask… well check with you about something – and it’s just because I know I’ve got to do press all this week. I wouldn’t normally bring it up so soon-” You silenced him with a kiss.

“Get to the point, Egerton.” You made him smile as you used his surname.

“I’m probably going to be asked about my personal life in some shape or form next week, even more so after what Hugh said on TV tonight, so I wanted to know how you felt about me potentially mentioning it.” He pulled his arm back away from you and rested his head on his hand.

“Well, it’s really early days isn’t it? There’s not going to be much to tell other than we’ve been on a date, and I don’t think anyone in the world can hold that against you.”

“Yes, and that’s perfectly fine for now. But if things go forward, or when they do…” he couldn’t hide his smile as he suggested a future together. “I don’t consider myself to be famous, but it does kind of come with the job. I just want to make sure you’ve thought about it, and what it could mean.”

“You act because you enjoy it, the fame part just tags along for the ride whether you want it to or not. Dating you is the same for me. I’m not interested in fame, and I don’t think I’ll be of any interest to other people. My life is very average. So no, it wouldn’t be fair to censor you and I trust you with sharing as much or as little as you’re comfortable with.” You explained as concisely as you could.

“Thanks, I wasn’t really sure what you were going to say, especially as this is only our first date. I’m going to have a chat with my publicist tomorrow, she’ll know what’s best for how much or little I should be revealing.” He ran his fingers through the back of his hair, a small sign of how much this had been playing on his mind.

“I bet she tells you to deny all rumours and play the single life card.”

“Mmm, it’s what I’m expecting too.”

“If I were you I’d be tempted to try the exact opposite. I think the less you know about a celebrity’s private life, the more intrigued you are to google it. If you’re happy to share some details, insignificant ones, then you’ll be trusted and seen as an open and relatable person. People will have less need to go digging into the past.”

“Brains and beauty.” You felt him relax as his arm wrapped back around you. “You talk a lot of sense and that perspective is so refreshing. As soon as I got into drama school the ‘keep your personal life private’ mantra was drilled into us daily… So I may well go against what my publicist says, we’ll see.” Taron thanked you with a slow and tender kiss.

“Weirdly, I think I’m more bothered by all the stunning actresses you have to kiss in scenes…” You thought aloud.

“Please don’t let that bother you, I really really don’t like shooting those scenes, honestly. It feels as weird as it would do to anyone if you asked them to make out with a work colleague whilst the rest of the team stood round watching.” His facial expressions flinched as he thought about it.

“Ha, I thought you were going to be scared of getting turned with all those people watching.”

“God, no! It’s so far from that! But I can assure you there’ll be no kissing girls in the next film I’m shooting... I think it gets announced officially soon, but I’ve been cast as Elton John in his sort of biopic.” Taron’s face lit up with excitement as he told you.

“No way! That’s a brilliant role!” You sat up and faced him properly, mirroring his excitement.

“I can’t wait! I get to sing again too, hopefully more often than I have to kiss guys.” He joked.

“You’ll be amazing. I already feel bizarrely proud and I’ve not even heard you sing yet!” You couldn’t hide your smile as Taron looked down to take your hand in his. You were hit right in the chest with the overwhelming sense of just how quickly your feeling were developing. You felt a genuine friendship forming, you wanted him to be happy and successful. Even more so you now felt invested in his future. Whatever happens from here you knew you wanted him to be in your life for a very long time.

“And you can tell everybody, that this is your song.” Taron started to softly sing to you. “It may be quite simple but, now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words…How wonderful life is while you’re in the world.” He’d not broken eye contact as he sang to you. You were stunned into silence at how beautiful his voice was and frozen to the spot by how much you felt he meant it. An incoming kiss saved you from your daze and gave you a much better way to react. You kissed him with passion and force, overwhelmed by an impulsive lust. Wrapping your arms around his neck you repositioned yourself onto his lap, never breaking apart from the kiss. His hands rubbed up and down your back as the kiss became heavier. He located the zip of your dress and started to firmly tug it down. Pausing for a moment you pulled your hair round to one side and reached over your shoulders to undo the hook at the top of your dress. Taron helped you to slide your arms out of your sleeves and then lowered the material down to your waist, leaving you topless. “I should sing to you more often if it gets this reaction!” he commented with wide eyes at the sight of you before him.

“Shhh” you hushed him gently as you moved in to kiss him again, grazing his tongue lightly and moving yours deeper into his mouth. The buttons of his shirt were easy to open, your hands sped down to release his chest and stroke his warm skin. As he sat forwards your bodies connected. You pushed his shirt away from his shoulders allowing it to fall off his arms. His breaths were heavy as you moved round to kiss his neck. You lightly licked just below his earlobe and blew gently to cool the skin, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to rise. His hands were all over your body, one stroking the side of your breast, the other working up and down your thigh under the skirt of your dress. You shifted your weight from your knees, lowering yourself into his crotch and rubbing yourself against his stiff jeans. “I need you.” You whispered into his ear. “Right now.”

Taron lifted you off his lap before pulling his phone and wallet from his pockets. You stood up to take your dress off and then took the condom from his wallet whilst he lowered his jeans and boxers. Moving down to the floor between Taron’s knees you tore open the packet and positioned the condom in your open mouth.

“Fuuuuck.” he swore slowly as he figured out what was about to happen. The guy who seemed so dominant earlier on was on the back foot as his cock twitched in anticipation. You ran your hands up his thighs and round to the base of his shaft, holding it in place as you lowered your mouth around him and rolled the condom down onto him at the same time. You looked up to watch his face as you sucked back up his length, your fingers dropping down to caress his balls at the same time. He was now harder than ever and in the perfect position for you to mount him. As you stood up Taron’s hands reached out for your hips. He hooked his fingers inside the elastic of your knickers and slowly drew them down your legs, involuntarily biting his lip at the same time. You stepped out of them and kneeled on the sofa as you positioned yourself over Taron. Starting slowly you moved against his tip, rubbing your clit against it and drawing it all the way down to your vagina and back up again. Taron’s eyes were firmly fixed on you, mesmerised by the way you were moving against him. You pushed him against your clit harder this time and let out a soft moan. His hands ran up your thighs and round to your arse, grabbing it encouragingly and applying a slight downward pressure. You moved your hands from his chest up to his shoulders and leant in to kiss him teasingly.

“Please?” he begged in between your kisses. “I can’t take it.” You giggled against his lips, kissing him harder as you obliged and lowered yourself onto him. He took in a deep breath and tensed beneath you. “Yes!” Lifting off and sliding down again felt incredible. Using a slow pace allowed you to hit every single spot you wanted one after the other, exactly how you liked it. You pushed your hips forwards to tighten things and increase the friction, causing Taron to moan heavily. His head had dropped to the back of the sofa, his mouth open and eyes closed. You ran your fingers down his chest to his stomach and traced them across his tensed abs. His hips were starting to buck up into you, urging you to go faster and harder. As he moved up into you, you pushed down against him, slamming him into you with force. Sitting up straight allowed you to take him deeper and faster, bouncing on top of him with a quick rhythm. He sat up slightly to watch you, his mouth still open and breathing heavily. “Don’t stop.” He moaned.

“Don’t come yet.” You moaned back as you felt your heat building and starting to spread around your body. It made the soles of your feet tingle as you worked yourself up. Your thighs were starting to burn but you couldn’t stop now, you were too close. You reached out for Taron’s hand and pulled it down towards your clit, encouraging him to touch you at the same time as you lifted up and pulsed against the top of his dick to finish him off. He didn’t have to touch you for long before you fell apart and swore “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You tensed around him in quick succession and sent him into his own orgasm, feeling him pause beneath you as he came. A few seconds later and he sighed heavily, his hands resting softly on the top of your thighs. You planted a kiss to his forehead as you climbed off him and collapsed down next to him on the sofa. He turned his head to look at you broke out in a smile.

“Shall we move things to the bedroom?” he joked with mocking suggestion.

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #taron x reader

64 notes · View notes

buckywintersoldierbarnes2017 · 7 years

Text

A Jealous Heart.

Request from ??: So for a moment there I thought I knew who requested this but my brain was deciding to have a funny moment and I actually don’t know at all so apologies to the person I tagged that I shouldn’t have done lol! Tumblr rid of the message but this was the request: for Bucky to like the reader but he hasn’t told her as he always sees her with Steve and one day he catches them goofing around and assumes it is because they’re in a relationship even though Steve x Reader is a platonic relationship. Unfortunately because the request has disappeared I can’t remember what else was asked for so hope this is okay!

Jealous!Bucky x Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2,225

Warnings: Swearing, acts of jealousy, but then fluff. I think that’s all! :)

Disclaimer: None of the GIFs used are mine so all credit goes to their creators

Once again those beautiful [e/c] eyes had filled his dreams….ever since he had come to join The Avengers and he had seen you stood in the lobby of Stark Tower with the others to greet him he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of you. It was getting to a point now though that he would much rather have the torment of the horrific nightmares he used to experience on a night rather than the dreams that tortured him with something he knew he could never have.

You liked Steve. His best friend.

Every day the two of you trained with one another and every day he had to watch his friend spend time with the one person he wanted to. Life really was a bastard at times. Whatever higher power existed was making it very clear that he wasn’t allowed to have things that would make him happy….he didn’t deserve them.

“[y/n] you need to keep focused.” The second he stepped through the doors into the gym he heard Steve’s voice which meant only one thing. You were there too. “I know you can never beat me but this is pretty bad even for you.”

He rolled his eyes at the smug comment that came from his friend’s lips. It was pretty ironic given that he could still remember that scrawny little kid from Brooklyn that never won any fight he threw himself into.

“I’d be careful there Captain Ego…keep inflating your own ego and your head won’t be able to fit through the doors!”

His eyes hadn’t even lay themselves onto you yet and already he could feel the warmth that consumed him when he heard your voice, and although he didn’t want to see the very sight that would soon extinguish that feeling he couldn’t help himself and so his blue eyes travelled to where you were stood on one of the mats with Steve. The two of you must have been here a while because you both glistening with sweat, chests heaving from the amount of effort you must have put into, and the tight yoga bottoms you wore…..

….before that thought could even get any further in his mind he lowered his head before making a beeline straight for the punching bag at the other side of the room. Hoping to get to it before either of you noticed him.

“Hey Buck!”

His eyes closed. Of course it had to be you that called out to him. He didn’t turn to face you, simply raised a hand in acknowledgement, before he started his workout on the piece of equipment in front of him. With a confused look on your face you looked at Steve but all he could offer was a shrug of his shoulders. Bucky may have been his best friend but not even he could understand some of his actions.

“Don’t worry about it right now okay? Come on….try and knock me down.”

He threw a playful wink at you as he raised both of his hands up, signalling with one for you to come towards him, and after one last glance over at Bucky you did just that. You turned to face the blonde but didn’t make a move right away, you needed to think this through properly, all the times you had rushed into going for him you ended up flat on your back…..NOT a good look at all.

“You ever want to take down Captain Pretty Boy then make sure you go for his legs….”

Tony’s voice played through your mind just as a mischievous looking smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. This was going to be the day Steve ended up on his arse, not you, you were sure of it. Bucky continued to throw punches at the heavy bag attached to the ceiling but his sharp blue eyes often glanced over at the mirror in front of him where he was able to see the two of you….it gave him all the motivation he needed to hit the equipment as hard as he could.

Instead of going in for a punch which the Captain was probably expecting you ducked down, swinging your leg out quickly, and swiping it so hard at his feet that he had no choice but to lose his centre of gravity completely and fall with a thud onto the mat. You gave him no time to get himself back up onto his feet and threw yourself onto him so that your legs were straddling either side of his body and your hands were pinning both of his wrists down to the mat.

“I think your cockiness may have got the better of you Captain, perhaps you should concentrate more on guarding your legs than winding me up.”

The pace of the super soldier’s punches was beginning to increase as he continued to watch the event unfold and when his eyes landed on the fact that you were so close to Steve he pulled back his metal arm before driving it so hard into the bag that it was ripped from it’s fitting and flew into the very mirror he had been looking into. Instantly the glass shattered and showered down onto the floor causing both you and Steve to jump up onto your feet.

He didn’t move from where he was stood and all you could see as you looked over were his shoulders rising up and then falling back down as he attempted to control the anger that was so very clearly running through him. Steve was the first to walk over to him, keeping his right hand behind his back to stop you from following him.

“Bucky?”

Before the blonde could get anywhere near his friend Bucky spun round on his heels and stormed right out of the gym leaving both you and Steve stood there with perplexed expressions on your face and no idea whatsoever as to what had just happened.

* * * * * * * * * *

“I’m worried about him Steve.”

Taking the freshly cooked popcorn out of the microwave you slammed the door shut before taking the empty space on the sofa beside him and placing the bowl between the two of you. It was your movie night with him but watching anything was the last thing on your mind after what had happened in the gym earlier that day. Especially given that you hadn’t seen anything of him since.

“He’ll just be having a bad day. I really wouldn’t worry about it. You know he has his bad days.”

He took a piece of popcorn and threw it into his mouth as he threw a reassuring smile your way. He was right, as he always was, Bucky was well known for being in a good mood one day and then not so much the next day but that didn’t help to reassure you at all.

“I know but….something just isn’t right. He always seems to be a little off whenever I am around and then today, well, he just seemed to blow up completely.”

Knowing that you weren’t about to watch a movie anytime soon he moved the bowl from between you so that he could bring his legs up onto the sofa to cross them and face you directly.

“Maybe he would feel a little less ‘off’ if you speak to him.” There seemed to be a knowing glint in his eyes as he said this to you and now you really did know that you must have been missing something. “Oh come on [y/n] don’t act so innocent. I know both of you enough to know that you like each other…..the two of you are just so damn stubborn that you won’t admit it to the other.”

“Hold the papers….did Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, just say the word ‘damn’?” In a dramatic fashion you placed a hand onto your chest and feigned a look of shock. “…wow. I am shocked! You really must be serious.”

He raised a brow at you, clearly bemused by your dig at him.

“See that is precisely what I mean. I have just told you that Bucky likes you just as much as you clearly like him and you just brushed it off like I just told you something that wasn’t worth knowing.”

There was no way Bucky liked you back. The most you had ever got out of him was a grunt of acknowledgement…a grunt! What civilised person even does that?!

“Steve. You’re my friend, and I love you, but you are certifiably insane if you think he likes me.”

“But you’re not denying that you like him are you?”

There was that smug little grin of his again, the one you loved to hate, and without another word you reached down into the bowl, grabbing a handful of the popcorn, and then launched it right into his face.

“You are a royal pain in the arse Rogers.”

You threw another handful of popcorn at him before he went into his own attack on you. If there was one thing Steve always knew would work on you it was being tickled. For someone who went on missions with The Avengers themselves it seemed like a rather silly thing to be affected by but ever since you were a kid it was the only thing that could have you surrendering within seconds.

As he pushed you down onto the sofa his hands went for your sides first, furiously digging in and hitting your ticklish spots over and over again, your screams were loud and probably alerting everyone in the tower and your feet desperately kicked out at him as tears filled your eyes.

“Oh my god Steve!…..Stop! I swear if you….If you want to have a life worth living you need to stop!”

By the boyish grin lighting up his face it was clear he wasn’t about to stop anytime soon.

“Seriously?” A deep voice suddenly sounding out in the room put an abrupt stop to the tickle attack Steve had put you through and had you both shooting up from where you had been laying on the sofa. Your hair was messed up pretty bad and your cheeks were red from the mix of sheer laughter and torture you had just been put through which made this scene look a whole lot worse than it was. “I come down to get something to fucking drink and I have to walk in on this?”

It was Bucky. This was the first time you had seen him since the gym and he looked no better than he had back there. There were dark bags underneath his eyes and his hair was a matted mess. Still managed to make your heart skip a beat though,,,,,good god…..Steve was bloody right yet again! You really did want the one man in this place that you were convinced hated you.

“Bucky it was just….we were just….”

“I don’t care [y/n]. If you two want to date then whatever. I’m happy for you both.”

He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that his words contradicted how he felt because there was so much anger radiating from them that they didn’t sound at all genuine. You hated it. You hated the fact that not only had you hidden how you felt for him but, if Steve was right about Bucky too, he was doing exactly the same…..albeit he was making it look like he actually hated you but still he was denying it too.

“God I hope I don’t regret this…..”

You pushed yourself up off he sofa and stormed your way over to where Bucky was stood. Before he even had a chance to react in any way your hand grabbed hold of his vest, clutching the material, and pulled him in so hard he had no choice but to let his lips collide with yours.

For a brief moment when you felt no reaction from him you genuinely thought that Steve may have got it wrong this time and that you were seriously going to make him pay for letting you embarrass yourself like this but then his stance softened and his hands travelled up to the back of your neck. The feeling of the cold metal of his bionic arm caused a pleasant chill to run through your body as you smiled into the kiss.

“Took you two long enough! Perhaps now the temper tantrums will stop.”

Steve aimed the last part of his comment at Bucky which earned him a scowl from the super soldier as he pulled away from the kiss and held you close. He had you now, that was all that mattered, you had been driving him absolutely crazy and although you would continue to do so at least he didn’t need to worry about you liking Steve. His jealousy had consumed him and made him see something there that you had just confirmed, by your kiss, was never there to start off with.

“I guess I should leave this movie night to you two. Goodnight…..and behave yourselves.”

He threw a stern father look your way before exiting the room rather swiftly and leaving you there to just enjoy being in Bucky’s embrace. The smile on his face relieving the worries you’d had for him just moments before.

Permanent tag list:@fallenfairy16@brieflybigwonderland@frolicsomefawkes @psychicwitchphilosopher @elwenia@imsecretlyromanburki@elaacreditava @marvel-fanfiction@wantingtobekorra@fandom-rpblog @just-call-me-your-darling

(There’s still room on the list so if you would like to be added just let me know

#a jealous heart #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel #not my gifs #james buchanan barnes #stark tower #the avengers #captain america #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #steve rogers #captain america x reader #workout #gym #jealousy #sebastian stan #chris evans

865 notes · View notes