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fandoms-writings · 6 months

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Now or Never

Pairing: Best-Friend!Bucky x Virgin!Reader (fem intended)

Word Count: 6.2K (it was supposed to be a drabble oops)

Summary: Based off the prompts "You know my door is always open for you, right?" and "You're already wet sweetheart." for my milestone event, requested by nonnie.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, mentions of a bad date, explicit p in v sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, swearing, bucky talks a lot in bed, weed and alcohol consumption. (if I missed any, please let me know)

A/N: thank you so so much to @bucksangel and @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare for beta reading for me, i love you both so so much.

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist

You sat in your car, frustration and disappointment rolling off of you in waves.

Another bad date, another guy just obsessed with hearing himself talk and not once allowing you to get a word in. That topped with how he called you a prude at the end left the worst taste in your mouth.

You didn't want to go home to your empty apartment, already sick of the silence filling your car, so you scrolled through your contacts, thinking who would be up for hanging out with so little notice.

Your lip found its way between your teeth as you passed your best friend's name. You weren't sure if he'd be busy or not, or if he'd be in the mood to hang out, but seeing him would help your mood. Plus. . . you blanched at the image that clouded your mind. Maybe he could help with your little problem - if you had the guts to even ask.

You pressed the dial button before you could talk yourself out of it, waiting for him to pick up as you chewed on your nail.

Just when you were about to hang up, giving up for the night, the tone clicked and his voice filtered through the speaker.

"Hey Peach," His voice was gruff and you could feel some of your frustration ebbing away already, "What's going on?"

"Hey, Buck," You sighed, "Are you busy?"

"Not currently, why?"

"Can I come over for a minute?"

"Aren't you supposed to be on a date?" He chuckled. You could hear him shuffling through what you assumed was his kitchen, the opening and closing of cupboards sounding through the little speaker.

"I was." You didn't give him anymore than that, and he was only silent for a small moment before he hummed.

"Alright, get your cute butt over here so you can tell me all about it," He ordered and you couldn't help the heat that grew in your skin at the compliment. "Want me to pack a bowl too?"

You giggled at that before agreeing. "After today, please. I'll pay you back for it."

"How many times do I gotta tell you not to worry about that?" He laughed, "Now get over here. Drive safe."

"I will." You hung up the phone with a sigh before starting your car and heading over to his place, but not before stopping and picking up a bottle of wine on the way.

It wasn't long before you were hiking up the steps to the house he rented. It was small, and not in the best neighborhood, but he didn't have to worry about sharing walls with anyone else and it was bigger than your apartment, so you didn't mind. Plus, you knew he'd never let anything happen to you.

He pulled open the door before you had a chance to knock, giving you a grin that was equally empathetic as it was smug. He liked to relish in the fact that he always knew guys weren't going to be good enough for you, telling you before every date you went on that it'd be a waste of time.

But that didn't mean that he was happy you weren't having a good time.

"Come on," He reached his hand out for you, "Let's get you giggly again."

You chuckled at that before landing the bottle of wine in his outstretched hand, the raise of his eye brows pulling up the corners of your lips.

"Super giggly is the goal then." He stepped away from the door, letting you in before closing and locking it behind you.

"You sure you don't mind me dropping by this late?"

He scoffed at that, leading the way to his kitchen and pulling out two wine glasses, "You know my door is always open for you, right?"

You shrugged, "I know that, but still, you can always tell me no."

"Now, Peach, why would I do that? I'm not going to say no to hanging out with my favorite person." Heat spread through your skin again at his words, and the teasing wink he threw your way.

You didn't mind that he flirted with you, whether flirting was his intention or not, you weren't quite sure. But either way, it made you feel somewhat seen. Liked.

"I thought Steve was your favorite person," You lifted yourself onto his countertop, hissing at the cold that met your thighs. You cursed the version of yourself that decided shorts were a good idea. "It'd be a shame if he heard that wasn't true."

"He knows where he stands with me, don't worry." He handed you a poured glass, clinking his own against it before leaning against the opposite counter. "Now, do you want to tell me what happened now, or do you want to smoke first?"

You chuckled at that, taking a sip of your wine, "How about I tell you while we smoke, then by the time we're good and high, I don't have to think about it anymore?"

He gave you one of his little grins, nodding his head. "You got it."

You followed him outside, getting comfortable in the large papasan chair as he plugged in the string of lights hung over the small porch. He got comfortable in his seat before offering you the bong and a lighter, letting you take the first drag.

It didn't take long to fill Bucky in on what had transpired on your date. How Mark didn't even try to act interested in anything you had to say. How he'd made you meet him at the restaurant instead of offering to pick you up, which in the end ended up being a silver lining because you didn't have to ask him to drive you home.

You'd gotten to the part where your date had called you a prude and what you'd told him to cause that comment, and the words caught in your throat. You'd never told Bucky you were a virgin, not that it mattered, you knew he wouldn't judge you for it. It was just something that never came up.

Maybe it was what happened tonight, the comments and the way your date acted afterwards, that made you not want to tell him. Or maybe it was the pity in his eyes that had grown since you'd started your story. Or. . . or it could've been the rather not small bit of your heart that belonged to him already that stopped you. If others didn't like that you were a virgin in your twenties, and didn't want to be with someone so inexperienced, why would he?

He caught on to your hesitation, setting the bong down as he turned to face you with his brows pulled forward.

"What happened?" He asked, and you looked to your lap, pulling your feet under you and wrapping your sweater around you.

You could tell him, you knew he wouldn't judge you, wouldn't tease you for it. You knew that, so why was it so hard to tell him when you told anyone else without a care in the world? You sighed, barely meeting his gaze.

"Promise me you won't judge me?" You whispered and he leaned forward.

"I'd never judge you for anything. I promise."

You nodded, more to yourself in reassurance to let the words out. "The only thing he either heard me say about myself, or that he decided to pay attention to, was the fact that I'm a virgin," You refused to meet Bucky's gaze as he went still, "That seemed to get his attention because then he started assuming I was going home with him after he pretty much ignored me all night. Like I was some prize to be won. A trophy."

You took a breath taking a small glance at Bucky to see his eyes trained on your face, but no emotion peaking through his features other than his fists clenched in his lap, knuckles white.

"When I told him I was just gonna go home, his attitude shifted again and he proceeded to call me a selfish prude." The words rang in your head again, his mocking tone clear in your ears before you forced yourself to push it out.

Bucky still hadn't said anything, his red eyes locked on your form, tucked into your chair as you reached for your wine glass. It wasn't until you'd taken a lengthy sip and had the cup nestled in your hands in your lap that he spoke up.

"You deserve better than that," He started, "And I'm sorry that he treated you like that, Peach."

Looking over to him, you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the heaviness in them as he refused to look away. You shrugged mumbling that it's fine before looking down to your wine glass again. "I don't really want to dwell on it."

"Okay," He angled his head to catch your eye, giving you a soft smile. "You just let me know when you want me to kick this guy's ass and consider it done."

You laughed at that, clutching your glass in your lap so it didn't fall. He smirked at you, seemingly pleased with himself for getting you to laugh as he leaned back in his chair.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked after a moment.

Your focus zeroed in on him, his arm thrown over the curved back of his chair, one of his legs folded under the other, his free hand resting on his thigh as he studied you. You swallowed around the dryness in your mouth and nodded.

"Is there a. . . specific reason you're still a virgin?" He asked. You could tell he wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable, he was genuinely curious.

"I guess I was scared at first," You started, remembering how you felt in high school when your best friend told you about how she'd lost her virginity. The idea always seemed daunting, like it was something you were supposed to do to 'become an adult.' But it was intimidating. "I didn't want to force it, wanted it to be something natural, I guess."

"And you haven't had anyone to give you that chance?"

You stilled for a second, shaking your head.

He hummed, at your silence, or your answer, you couldn't tell, but he fell quiet after that, staring at the trees in the yard.

You finished your glass of wine and set it aside, you fingers beginning to slightly numb in the cold before you tucked them into your legs, your mind starting to get fuzzy. You couldn't tell if it was the wine or the weed starting to kick in that made you ask, "Is it a bad thing?"

He whipped his head towards you, his brows pulled together in confusion. "Being a virgin?" At your tentative nod, his face softened and he shook his head, "Not at all."

"Then why do people act like the guy tonight whenever they find out?" You muttered and he sighed, shifting so that he was leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Maybe it's intimidating, being someone's first."

Your eyes refused to leave his, your nerves starting to warm as you asked, "What about you?" You asked, readjusting in your seat to angle yourself more towards him, "Would you be intimidated?"

He simply stared at you for a moment before shaking his head, "No." There was something about the way he said it, the roughness of his voice and the confidence in his short answer, that had you trying to subtly clench your thighs together.

You hated to admit it, but you'd thought about it before. Hell, you thought about it on the way over. About sleeping with him. About his rough hands on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips on yours, his fingers in -

"You okay?" His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked back to him, heat rising up the back of your neck. You went to tell him you were fine, that you just wanted to get a drink, maybe watch a movie, but a voice in the back of your head grew too loud to ignore. "Peach?"

The voice told you to ask him for it. To ask him to be your first. You trusted him with your life, you'd trust him with taking your virginity too. You know you would. But you couldn't ask that. What if he said no? What if he was mortified? It wasn't something you could just tell him to pretend you didn't ask for, that's not how that worked.

He was still staring at you, allowing you to have as long as you needed before you told him whatever it was that was going through your head.

Now or never, the voice reminded you, and you took a breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable rejection you felt you knew he was going to give you.

"I'm over it," You muttered, and before he could ask what you were talking about, "I don't want to be a virgin anymore." He watched you, unsure if you were finished speaking yet, but when the words died on your tongue, he nodded.

"Okay," His voice was rough and hoarse and dangerously quiet as he waited to hear what you wanted to do about what you'd said.

"I trust you," You whispered, "More than anyone." His eyes widened just a fraction as you stared at him. Your hands gripped your legs as you mustered up just enough courage to get the words out, "Would. . . would you be my first?"

The confusion fell from his face, concern taking its place. He cleared his throat and his voice was dangerously low, “Is this the wine talking?”

Your heart fell, you knew you shouldn’t have asked. You knew. Yet you asked anyway. You let out a shaky breath, moving to stand. “I shouldn’t have asked, forget about it.” You stood, moving to pick up what needed to go inside when his hand grasped yours.

“That’s not. . .” He started and you turned to him, he was on the edge of his seat, eyes wide as he stared up at you, “I mean is that something you truly want? It’s not just the wine?”

You took a moment to look at him, to really look. You’ve held his stare so many times before, but you’d never seen the look in his eyes that was there now. Like it was taking everything in him not to jump up and do what you’d asked.

Like he — like he wanted it just as much as you did.

You faced him completely, placing yourself between his knees and resting your hands on his shoulders, his hands falling to wrap around the backs of your thighs.

“I just don’t want you to regret asking me,” he muttered, his fingers drawing patterns across the backs of your legs, “I don’t want you regretting me.”

Your hands settled at the sides of his neck, the stubble on his chin scraping against your thumbs as you pushed to angle his head up to you again. You leaned down, your nose brushing against his as your breaths mingled between you.

“Bucky. . . " You started, but he shook his head.

"Wait," It was a gasp, like he was fighting himself, "You need to know that if you let me have you," he looked up at you and you were finally able to see how his pupils had blown, the blue of his eyes almost completely swallowed, "I don't plan on letting you go. Ever."

Your body froze in his hold, his fingers tightening on your legs. "What are you saying?"

His eyes softened on you and a small, nervous smile grew on his lips, "That I've wanted you since we met, but didn't want to scare you off." He tugged on your legs, pulling you into his lap, your knees landing on either side of his hips. His hands moved up to your lower back, his thumbs barely moving under your shirt, but stopping before he went any further. "I've been pining after you for years."

It was like you were snapped back to reality, the raspiness in his voice and his calloused fingers brushing against your skin bringing you back from your stupor. But there were no words to convey how you felt, at least not any you could form at the moment. The only thing your brain and your heart were telling you, was to press your lips against his.

So you did.

His fingers tightened against your back, pressing you into his chest as his lips moved in tandem with yours. It was slow at first, the soft nips to your bottom lip and the way his tongue hesitantly slid across your bottom lip. Your lips parted and the second your tongue met his, a groan rumbled through his chest, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt. Your hips ground down of their own accord and he swallowed the whine you let out as your core was met with the growing bulge under his jeans.

Time seemed to slow, and by the time you pulled back panting, eyes locked on his, you weren't sure how long you'd been there. But by the way your heart was soaring, you knew you didn't want to be anywhere else, ever again.

"We should go inside," he whispered, bringing up one of his hands to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips. "I don't want the neighbors hearing you."

~~~

You two didn't last long apart once you pried yourself from his lap. The second you both set everything on the counter inside, his hands found their way to your skin again, pushing up the back of your shirt as he pulled you flush with his chest, his feet guiding you to his bedroom.

The edge of his bed met the backs of your knees, and he gently pushed you back, crawling up with you as you nudged your way up to his pillows. His lips attached to your neck, gently biting where it met your shoulder, his breath fanning against your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

"I'll take good care of you," He breathed, pulling back to look at you, "I promise."

You nodded, reaching around to shove his shirt up his back, "I know, I trust you." He smiled at you before pushing your shirt up, over your head and your arms. and dropping his head and dragging his lips across every inch of skin he could reach.

"Arch your back for me?" He asked, only lifting his lips enough to get the words out before they went back to nipping at your skin. You did as he asked, his fingers slipping through the clasp on your bra and undoing it. He helped you out of it, sitting up to pull it up from your arms and throwing it to the side to join your shirt.

You looked up to find his eyes locked on you and you couldn't help the sudden nervousness rise in your chest as he stared at you. His hands caught your arms trying to move to cover your breasts and he shook his head.

"Don't hide," He said, "You're fucking gorgeous."

You giggled, the butterflies in your stomach from his words mixed with the substances in your system making it impossible to fight it off and he smiled down at you.

"There she is," He whispered, "God, I love your laugh."

"Heavy with the compliments tonight aren't you?" You breathily asked, the heat in your skin rising as he removed his shirt, his muscled chest seemingly glowing in the warm hue of the lights.

"I've been waiting to give you some very specific compliments," He leaned over you, "So you better get used to it."

His lips captured yours again as his hands trailed down your stomach, his fingers gently pushing at the waistband of your shorts.

"Can I?" He asked, his fingers stopping.

"Please."

He chuckled at the eagerness in your voice before he pulled away and helped you out of your shorts, pulling your panties with them. He dragged his fingers down your hips and your thighs as he took you in. You could see his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace before he looked up at you.

"You're already wet sweetheart," He rasped, "Can I play with you?"

The fact that you were bare before him and he was still asking for permission sent even more heat to your core and you could feel yourself clench around nothing as your breath hitched in your throat. You nodded sitting up on your elbows to meet his lowering mouth with your own, earning a moan from him as you dragged your teeth along his bottom lip.

His fingers were sure in their movements as they met your folds, brushing up to circle around your clit before sliding back down to circle around your entrance, your hips bucking into his touch. He pulled his mouth away as he slowly slid a finger in, pressing the palm of his hand down into your clit.

"Oh I love this," He said, his head dropping down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, lightly dragging his teeth across it before swirling his tongue around it. He pumped his finger a few times before slowly adding a second, and growling into your skin as your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling at the strands, his fingers curling up, like he was searching for something.

"What?" It came out as a breath, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak any louder as you tried to keep the noises that built in your chest to a minimum. You knew they were normal, but you didn't want to seem as desperate as you really felt.

"I love that no one else has had the pleasure of seeing you like this, that no one has touched you," He said the words into your skin, his lips brushing against your nipple as he spoke and grinning when his fingers brushed against a certain spot.

"Shit - Do that again," the request broke through your lips in a whine, but you were too focused on him to notice. He grinned, curling his fingers into that spot again, pulling another wail from your throat.

"I love that no one's been inside you, that they don't get to have you," He angled his fingers to brush against that spongy spot over and over as he pumped them in and out, "But I do."

He kept his fingers pace agonizingly slow, to not drive you over the edge so quickly but you couldn't help the movement of your hips trying to get more friction. His other hand came up to your chest, gently pushing you down so you were comfortable.

"I'll go slow at first," He started, his fingers slowing even more, if that was possible, "Let you get used to it - to me, before I ruin you," His fingers began to spread, pushing your walls apart as they dragged across them before coming to a halt. "Do you know the traffic light system?" He asked, and at your nod he grinned, "Tell me."

You swallowed around the breath catching in your throat, "Red is stop, green is go, yellow is slow down." His smile grew.

"Perfect, I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with, so you use that if you need to, alright?" When you nodded, he went back to pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, noticing you practically biting through your lip to keep quiet and he tsked, his free hand moving to pull it from your teeth, "Let me hear you, Peach."

The second you let your lip go, a lewd moan filled the air. You went to bite your lip again, to hide the noises that were waiting to get out, and Bucky shook his head as his thumb found its way to your tongue, softly pressing down to keep your mouth open.

"Don't hide those noises from me," He practically begged, "I need to hear you." It was the tone of desperation that took over his calm confidence that had you nodding, promising not to hide anymore. "Is there anything you want to do?"

"What do you mean?" You breathed, trying to hone your focus on him.

"Well, it's your first time," He started, pushing his fingers as far as he could and smiling at the moan you let out, "Was there anything you wanted to try?"

You thought back to the times you shamefully allowed yourself to fantasize about him. How he'd feel on top of you, in you. How his hips would feel driving into yours, the fullness you'd finally experience. How the weight of him would feel against your tongue.

You felt your skin get hot as you looked up at him, trying not to cover yourself with how self conscious you suddenly felt. But when your eyes met his, all you saw was patience and adoration as he watched you, so you swallowed down your nerves.

"I want to taste you," You muttered and he groaned, his fingers stilling in you, "and ride you."

"Shit," He smiled at you, "You're really not that innocent are you?"

He pulled his fingers free of you before you could answer, and you whined at the now empty feeling in between your legs, a whine that dragged on longer as you watched him lift his fingers to his mouth. His eyes rolled back and he moaned as he tasted you.

"Fuck," he groaned, "I knew you'd taste good."

He pulled his body up from yours, ridding himself of the last of his clothes, and you couldn't help but look down, eyeing the length of his cock as it stood at attention. Unable to stop yourself from reaching out, your fingers brushed against the underside and the shiver that clearly ran up Bucky's spine gave you a boost of confidence.

You crawled across the bed to where he stood at the end, fighting the nerves that were tingling through every part of you as you slid to the floor in front of him. The carpet dug into your knees as you kneeled, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand came down to trace your cheek before cupping it.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," He said and you smiled.

"I know, I want to." You eyed him before moving your hand to grip him at the base, holding him still while you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the head, the taste of his skin and the precum leaking from the tip flooding your tongue.

"Oh, fuck," He gasped and his hips stuttered, pushing himself past your lips just a bit before he caught himself and pulled back. "Shit - sorry."

Instead of pulling your mouth off of him, you looked up at him and hummed before taking him further, watching his eyes flutter closed and roll back as your tongue slid along his length. His fingers twitched at his sides like they were reaching for you but he was fighting himself. You reached up with your free hand and pulled his grasping fingers towards the top of your head where they hesitantly laced into your hair.

He breathed a heavy sigh as he gently tugged on your hair, the whine you let out around him causing his hips to jolt again.

"Fuck, Peach," He rasped, his voice hoarse as he looked down at you. The sound of his voice and the way he looked at you alone was enough to have you clenching around nothing, but what he said next was what got to your head, sending you into a type of haze you'd never experienced before. "Unless you want me to fuck your pretty face, you gotta stop doing that."

Your free hand reached around his thigh, gripping it as you hummed again, the vibrations clearly running through every one of Bucky's nerves as he shuddered.

"Is that what you want?" He asked, a cocky grin growing on his lips as he looked down at you, your head bobbing, "You want me to fuck your pretty mouth before I fuck that pretty pussy?"

A high pitched whine rumbled in your throat and his hips bucked forward, his hand in your hair pulling your head forward. He was gentle with it, only pushing himself so far back in your mouth, doing his best not to make you gag, all the while a string of curses and compliments showered you as your eyes watered and a mix of your spit and his precum had started to slide down your chin.

He pulled your head back, pulling himself from your mouth, the stiffness in your jaw a welcome sensation when accompanied by the heavy look in his eyes. He took your hand in his, helping you move back to the bed and settling in between your legs as he kissed his way down the side of your neck, his hand wrapping around the other side. His teeth grazed your skin, sending chills through your spine as you reached around to grip at his back.

Pulling his head from your neck, his voice just above a whisper as he asked, "Are you ready?" You nodded, but he shook his head, "I need to hear you say it, baby, you gotta tell me." A bloom of warmth spread through your chest at the care exuding from the furrow in his brows.

You wrapped your hands around the sides of his head, your thumbs brushing along the lines of his jaw, "Fuck me, Bucky," You whispered, "please." He nodded before capturing your mouth with his once before sitting up a bit and reaching over to his nightstand, his hand coming back with a condom and a small bottle of what you assumed was lube.

Once he had the condom on, he popped open the cap of the lube, pouring some in his hand and spreading it over himself, then getting a bit more and looking at you. "It's a little cold, but it's gonna help, I promise."

"Okay," You nodded and braced yourself for the chill that came when his fingers rubbed the lube through your folds, your skin sensitive to his calloused skin.

"Spread your legs baby," he watched your legs open for him, "that's it. . . wider." Your legs spread as far as you could, "Such a good girl all spread out for me." He smiled before lining the head of his cock up with your dripping entrance, slowly pushing in with a hiss.

The stretch burned and your hands shot to cling to his arms, your nails leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. His eyes locked with yours, "Breathe baby, breathe," He strained, "I'm right here." You let loose a tight breath through your nose as you held his gaze. He kept pushing in, taking his time until he was all the way in, a strange type of fullness taking over you - an addicting kind.

He dragged his fingers across your skin, kneading the muscles in your hips, legs, and arms as he waited for you to adjust, talking you through it with a whole array of compliments. When the burn from the stretch turned into a need for him to move, you shifted your hips and loosed a moan when the head of his cock brushed against that same spot his fingers had expertly found earlier.

A breathy chuckle fanned your skin as he smiled down at you, "Ready for me to move?" At your quiet confirmation, he began slowly rocking his hips into yours, the drag of his cock against your walls addicting - but you needed more.

"M-more. . ." you panted and he smirked.

"More what?" He asked, not stopping the slow drag movements of his hips as if he knew it was driving you mad, which he probably did if you were being honest.

You swallowed your nerves, "Faster," he brushed that spot again, "fuck - harder."

He nodded, moving his hands to the back of each of your knees, holding your legs open, "Can I have my way with you? You can ride me later?" You forgot about that, about saying you wanted to ride him. You did, you wanted him under you writhing for you like you were for him now, but you weren't sure you could handle taking over right now so you nodded. You just wanted him to make you feel good and to fucking move already.

"Yes," You whined, trying to move your hips against his again, but with how he was holding your legs, you couldn't move much. "Just move." You didn't care how desperate you sounded now, you were going to go insane if he didn't do something other than slowly drag himself in and out, stopping just before hitting that perfect spot.

"Say please." You scowled at him. Sometimes you forgot how cocky he could get, though this was the first time his cockiness made you even more needy for him.

"Fuck," You muttered, the pressure growing low in your belly, "please Bucky."

"I got you," He pushed you knees closer to your chest as he leaned over you, thrusting into the base, hitting that spot that made you see stars before pulling out just as quick and doing it again.

It felt like the air had been sucked out of your chest as you held his gaze, his hips unrelenting in his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping filling your ears in between the moans that fell from both of you.

"God," He panted, "You feel so good around me, I always knew you would." He dropped one of your legs, reaching up to palm your breast and taking the pebbled nipple in between his fingers, "Fuckin' made for me, weren't you?"

A loud moan tore its way through your throat as you reached for him, your hand finding his neck, nails raking down to the middle of his chest, his hips driving home even harder. You could feel that somewhat familiar crest quickly approaching, knowing the feeling from your nights alone where all you had were your fingers. But you didn't want this to end. You wanted to stay here, his cock filling you up and hitting that one spot over and over.

Something in your face, or maybe it was the way your breathing became more controlled, told Bucky that you were trying to fight it off as long as you could and he smirked before slowing down just enough to let your knees go and tell you, "Wrap your legs around my waist."

You quickly followed his instruction as he leaned over you, grabbing the headboard with one hand and circling your clit with the thumb of his other. You couldn't hold back the almost scream that erupted from your chest at the sensation and he smiled.

"Don't fight it, baby," He coaxed, "Just let it happen." He quickened the pace of both his hips and his thumb, trying to push you over that edge. "C'mon, Peach," he was practically begging now, "Let me have it."

The thread holding you back was fraying quickly, ready to snap and he knew it.

Your breath hitched and he smirked, still keeping his pace as he muttered, "Give it to me."

The thread snapped. Pleasure crashed into you, a roaring in your ears as your body tightened under his, your walls clenching around him as he continued his determined thrusts. Your hands grasped at his back, your nails raking down his skin. Your legs locked around him.

You were sure you screamed.

"That's it, baby," He panted into your ear, his hips becoming sporadic, "Keep coming - fuck - keep gripping me like that." You weren't sure how exactly to do what he was asking, but in your daze, you did your best, tightening your muscles as much as you could.

He gasped, gripping your hip tight enough to bruise you were sure. His hips stilled and his head buried into your neck as he shouted.

He gently rested his weight on you, pushing you into the mattress and trailing small kisses along your neck and shoulder where his head still rested. He waited until you'd caught your breath and your eyes were clear before speaking again.

"Are. . . are you alright?" He asked, worry replacing the pleasure that had been on his face just moments ago.

You gave him a dizzy smile, nodding, "I'm perfect."

A large smile grew on his face as he chuckled, his hand raising to cup your chin, pulling himself forward to gently press his lips to yours. "Good," he muttered against your lips, "You make such a cute face when you cum, did you know that?"

You felt your skin heat as you tried to shove his now laughing face away from you. "Shut up!"

"What?!" He roared, "It's true!" He grabbed your hands in his, pinning them above you. He was still smiling as he looked down at you, his pupils still blown wide, "I wanna see you make it again."

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

If you enjoyed the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications <;3 @remis-library

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reiding-writing · 1 month

Note

REDDD ‼️ MAJOR CONGRATS FOR YOUR MILESTONE YOU DESERVE IT AHHHH

may i request 1 & 7 from the general dialogue prompts with spencer reid please 🥹🫶

SENDING YOU KISSES ☝️🤭😚 XOXO

POOL ‘PARTY’ [CLIMACTERIC]

/pul ˈpɑːrti/

1. “Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?”

7. “I don’t want anyone else.”

WARNINGS: based on 01x18, minor lila slander, spencer thinking of someone else whilst making out with lila, arguing

spencer reid x gn!reader || flangst || 1.9k Il climacteric event!!

a/n: THANK YOU ML <3333 enjoy me dabbling back into my angst game again, with a happy ending ofc 🫶

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ event masterlist!!

You approach Spencer with a raised eyebrow and a click of your tongue, eyes scanning over Spencer’s completely soaked appearance.

His eyes turn to you widened in surprise, but his expression quickly morphs into guilt as he meets your eyes. “I uh- fell in,”

“I’m sure there are plenty of photos of you ‘falling in’,” Your eyes narrow with a scoff, and you cross your arms over your chest in very clear disappointment at his recklessness.

“I- It really wasn’t meant to happen I swear-” You cut off Spencer’s attempt at an explanation by shoving a beach towel against his torso, and he lets out a small groan from the force.

“You have to be the stupidest person i’ve ever met.” Spencer flinches at your tone, hands wringing at the towel as he lowers his head.

He supposes he deserves the scolding, he’d broken so many rules of professionalism and put Lila’s life in danger.

The worst part was that he didn’t even enjoy it.

He’d ruined everything and didn’t even enjoy what he was risking everything for.

He truly was an idiot.

“I’m sorry-”

“I don’t want your apology.” You cut him off with a hand raised in his direction. “If you want to apologise to someone, apologise to Lila, because you won’t be seeing her for the rest of the case.”

Lila’s name is dripping with venom as it rolls off your tongue, and Spencer presses his lips into a tight line with a small nod in your direction.

It’s a proportional punishment, but it’s not like he wanted to see her again anyway. Even the thought of what he’d done made him want to punch himself.

“I really didn’t-” He stops himself this time, knowing that you don’t want to hear his excuses. “I’ll… go change now…”

“There’s clothes in the SUV.” He sighs dejectedly at the coyness in your tone, and he swears he’ll cry if you keep this up.

“Right…” He gives you a soft nod, and you have half the mind to feel bad about the way you’re treating him, but for some reason the image of the two of them in the pool together fills you with some unforeseen, insurmountable rage that you can’t seem to suppress.

After he’s changed and dry, he reapproaches the front of the house cautiously. He knows that he probably won’t be allowed back inside, but he also doesn’t want to hang around the SUV looking like an idiot, he’d made himself a big enough one already.

You’re the only one still outside, standing with your arms crossed with your eyes following his movements through your narrowed gaze.

You were still angry with him. Great.

He didn’t want you to be angry with him. That was the last thing he ever wanted.

“I…” Spencer exhales softly as he comes up short on something to say. You didn’t want him to apologise. You didn’t want him to explain himself. What was he supposed to say?

You answer his question for him with one of your own. “Was it worth it?”

He flickers his eyes towards yours, guilt and regret written all over his features. “No…”

“Didn’t think so.”

Spencer can feel the tears prick at his eyes as your tone continues to wash over him like an ice-cold shower, and he takes a shuddered breath in through his mouth, clearing his throat and blinking rapidly to keep his gaze clear.

“I didn’t want to… I didn’t even enjoy it…” He frowns through glassy eyes and you crumble almost immediately. How are you supposed to be angry at him when he looks like that?

“Why did you do it?” Your voice is considerably softer this time, and as much as Spencer is grateful for it, it doesn’t stop a single tear from trickling down his face.

“I don’t know-” He sighs heavily as he wipes his cheek with the back of his hand, running his other hand through the still damp mess of his hair.

He did know.

Kind of anyway.

He’d always prided himself on having a vivid imagination, one that he had been using during what happened with Lila.

And you could read his dishonesty immediately.

“Spencer.”

He knew he’d been caught. “I don’t want to talk about it,”

He crosses his arms over his chest defensively as he evades eye contact with you.

“Spencer.” You were going to get to the bottom of his reasoning behind breaking one of the cardinal rules of being an FBI agent.

“I was imagining that she was someone else okay?” He raises his voice slightly in his defensiveness, and you have to take a second to actually soak in his sentence and the implications of it.

“You- What?” You can do nothing but stare at him in a state of absolute shock at his confession.

“I was imagining that I was kissing somebody else…” He repeats his statement with much less vigour the second time around, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Does she know that?” You raise an eyebrow slightly as you ask your question. God knows you wouldn’t want to be kissing someone only to find out that they were thinking about somebody else the entire time.

“We had an argument about it before you guys turned up…”

So she did know. That made it a little better at least.

“So who was it then?”

Spencer turned his eyes back to yours again with a surprised expression. “What?-”

“Who were you thinking about?” You’re not sure exactly why you want to know who Spencer was thinking about during his little ‘pool party’, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be satisfied with whatever answer you gave him, but some twisted part of your mind felt the need to know.

“I-” Spencer pressed his lips together tightly. “You don’t need to know that,”

“Why not?” You furrow your eyebrows as his defensiveness escalates again. “What’s there to hide?”

“Maybe I just don’t want my personal life being aired to the people I work with?” He mirrors your expression with his own as he rubs his hands up and down his arms.

“Fine, keep your secrets then,” you say, a hint of frustration in your voice. “But just know, you can't keep messing up like this. It's not just about you.”

"I know that," he returns your frustration with his own. “But who I’m interested in is nobody’s business except my own.”

“Why are you so defensive about this?”

“Why do you want to know who it is so badly?”

The tension crackles between you two, each word adding fuel to the fire of the argument.

“Because,” you retort sharply, “I need to know if I can trust you. If your mind is somewhere else when you're supposed to be focused on the mission, it puts everyone at risk,”

Was that the real reasoning behind why you wanted to know so badly? No. But you didn’t exactly know what was.

Spencer's jaw tightens, his eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and hurt. “You think I don't take this seriously? You think I don't care about the mission?”

“I don't know what to think anymore,” you admit, your voice softer now, but no less charged with emotion. “All I know is that you've been acting recklessly, and I can't afford to have that kind of distraction.”

“I'm not distracted,” Spencer protests, his voice tinged with desperation.

“You just verbally admitted to thinking about somebody else whilst making out with someone, that’s not distracted?” You gesture outwards exasperatedly. “We can’t be sure that you’ve got the right head in the game unless you say who you were thinking about.”

“It was you okay?” Spencer’s voice raises again as he throws out his arms in frustration. “Happy?”

You didn’t have the mental capacity to decide if you were happy.

You barely computed his answer in the first place. Were you happy that it was you? Was that the reason you pressed him so hard?

What on earth was happening?

“What-”

“Okay yeah, maybe I have a crush on you, so what?” Spencer continued to verbalise his defensiveness in exasperation. “It’s not like it was ever going to go anywhere.”

“You were thinking about me?” You still haven’t fully comprehended his confession yet, and Spencer mistakes your slowness for sarcasm.

“Yes. I was thinking about you. There’s no need to rub it in my face.” Spencer's frustration is palpable, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world rests upon them.

But beneath the frustration, there's a vulnerability, a rawness that tugs at your heartstrings.

You realise then that this argument, this tension between you, it's not just about the mission or the case—it's about something deeper, something you've both been trying to ignore or brush aside.

"I'm not trying to rub it in your face," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just... trying to understand."

“I mean-” You fumble over your sentences as you try to make sense of everything. “Why would you kiss somebody else? Why would you imagine it was me whilst you did it? I just- I don’t get it,”

“I don’t want anybody else. I never wanted anybody else. But what was I supposed to do?” Spencer sighs as he takes his fingers through his hair.

“Tell me?”

“And have you rip me to pieces? I’d rather spend my whole life as just your friend than risk something like that-” He doesn’t have the chance to finish his sentence.

Your lips press against his hard, your hand anchored at the side of his neck as you take what you deem a reasonable action to get him to just stop talking for a second.

In your defence, it does work, all of Spencer’s frustration dying on his tongue as he slowly starts to reciprocate, his hands half-hesitantly coming up to cup your face so that he wouldn’t lose the contact with you even if you tried to pull away, which of course, you weren’t going to do unless strictly necessary.

He finally didn’t have to imagine what your lips would taste like anymore, and he wasn’t going to let the moment end before he got his fill of you.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #mgg #climacteric 🪶

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2soulscollide · 1 year

Text

Write your book STEP BY STEP

hello hello, it's me again!

today i'm bringing you a step-by-step / checklist to finally get your book done. i know it can be a bit complicated to put everything together to make your idea come to life (you're definitely not alone!)

that's why i compiled some tips and made this post, in hopes to help some author out there :D

let's get started.

PREMISE

assuming you already have a good idea in mind, you should start by writing a premise. to help you with that, try to answer these questions:

who is the main character?

what are their goals?

which troubles will they face / what's stopping them from achieving their goals?

do they have an opponent? if so, who?

now that you know the answers to these questions, it's time to write the premise. the premise consists in a sentence that summarizes your whole idea.

PLOT OUTLINE

there are infinite ways to plot your story. you can do it by writing down ideas and linking them together, following a scheme, or any other method.

the most common plot outlines are these:

synopsis outline: one to two pages, where you hit all the major beats of the story

in-depth outline: outline each chapter/scene

snowflake method: develop the premise into a bigger paragraph, and that paragraph into a page (etc.) until you have the whole outline of your story

booken method: plot the start and end of the story, and the main characters

the novel factory created plot sheets for free, and you can choose from eight different templates. you might want to check it out!

KNOW YOUR CHARACTERS

having your outline defined, you should start developing your characters now. the main character's profile might be more detailed than the others, however, it's up to you. there are many character sheets out there on the internet that will help you create flawless characters.

i have a post with resources that might be helpful when creating a character, check it out!

and here you have some prompts and sheets to create a character:

Quick Character Creator - EA Deverell

Extremely detailed character sheet template - @hawkasss

The Best Character Template Ever - Dabble

Character Twenty Questions Worksheet - The Writers Circle

at this point, you should also define the narrator's voice, tone, etc, as well as the pace of your novel.

LOCATIONS

define the principal locations of your story, the settings, and where the story is taking place. it's important to know how the environment looks, and how your characters feel about it.

for this part, you might find it useful to do some research about some locations, if you're not familiar with them. find inspiration on Pinterest, Tumblr, or even on books, paintings, and art. everything is valid.

if your story takes place in a fantasy environment, you might need to fill out a template to create it or write down the way you imagine it to be. try to get as many details as possible, so there are no holes when developing the novel.

SUBPLOTS

you might want to give more depth to your novel by developing a subplot (or more than one). make sure it doesn't get too confusing or that doesn't take the focus away from the main action.

the subplot can be a romance, another character's relationship, a character's arc, a backstory, etc. this will make your story more real and 3D, more realistic.

develop it as a side story and mix it with the principal plot but don't make it as important as the main story, otherwise, none of the plots will make an impact.

SYNOPSIS

write a synopsis as long as you wish, covering every important part of the story. this will help you to really know your idea, and have a solid structure for it. it can range from 500 to 2,500 words, but you don't have to restrict yourself to a number.

things the synopsis should cover:

the status quo

the complication

initial challenges

midpoint

further challenges

the low point

the climax

the resolution

DRAFT

and we get to the best part which is writing! now that you know everything about your story, characters, locations, and scenes, all you have to do is to put all that together in words. don't feel pressured to make everything look perfect already, just write what comes to your mind. if you have a new idea for the plot, good, write it down! if this character doesn't make sense anymore, okay, get rid of them. just go with the flow, following the structure you've planned, and everything starts to come to life.

i know it's so tempting to go back, read what you wrote, and start editing and polishing, but trust me, don't do that! it's a waste of time, and you will take so much more time to finish your first draft. in fact, i've given up on so many stories because of that...

just when you finish the first draft, you will re-read everything and start editing, fixing plot holes, changing what doesn't fit well, etc. but for now, just write, get the first draft done. enjoy the process, don't rush.

thanks for reading!

i hope this post was helpful!

also, you might be interested in this free workbook with over 90 pages and many exercises! check it out here: THE WRITER'S WORKBOOK

resources for this post:

How to Choose a Plot Outline Method: 4 Techniques for Outlining Novels

How to Write a Novel: A Step-by-Step Guide

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writingforstraykids · 2 months

Note

Pls share your soft thoughts for Felix!!

Oh Lix, I do have some soft thoughts on him. Also thank you to @zehina and @atinyniki for sharing some ideas🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix thrives on skin contact, he'd stay right in your arms forever if he could. If you're comfortable with long hugs, subtle touches, holding his hand, or playing with his hair, then you become the source of his energy. He comes to you when he needs to recharge. He hugs you tight, plants himself on top of you, or holds your hand for hours. It doesn't really matter as long as he can feel your presence, your body warm against his.

If none of you is on a diet, he'll shower you with tasty goods. He can't stop spoiling you by baking all sorts of things you love so much. He has accepted his fate, getting called "Brownie boy" by you whenever he ends up in the kitchen baking. Felix knows how much you love those brownies and cookies, so of course, he always keeps some around. What's even better is if you join him, helping him mix the batter and making a mess with him between giggles and playful fights.

Felix is an enthusiastic gamer. The first time you ask him to play with him, he is over the moon for you. He shows you the basics and thinks you're even sweeter than before. If you don't feel like playing yourself, he enjoys keeping you in his lap, claiming you're his lucky charm. He might've cried a little when you offered to help him build his own equipment.

Lix's soft soul is something that needs to be protected, and he hasn't met many people who are as protective of him as you are. He lets you in, allows himself to be open about his feelings with you, and knows you'd never judge him for anything. You're his safe place when he feels like everything is crumbling down around him.

Felix's smile is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. The way his freckles seem to crawl up into his eyes, illuminating them like stars painting the night sky, steals your breath every time. He's so genuine and easily smiling whenever he watches you doing the most basic things, it makes you swoon.

Lix can get a little emotional at times, never fully believing he deserves the love he receives from his friends, fans, and especially not you. Whenever those big, soft eyes fill with tears, he comes to you, gently tugging at your sleeve and curling up in your arms without any further explanation. He doesn't have to because you already know.

That is why whenever you're upset or feel undeserving of love, his heart breaks with yours. He pulls you into his arms, kisses your hair and fondles your head, gently rocking you in his arms. He whispers little secrets and sweet nothings into your ear, trying to show you how much you mean to him. He knows he isn't the problem here, but it wrecks him thinking you'd even consider him not loving you.

You're in love with that stunning face and Lix knows it. It hasn't happened only once you've made him sit on the counter to do his makeup. You love those little moments, accentuating your boyfriend's natural beauty like that. He loves letting you paint his lips, adorn his eyes with glittery eyeshadow or go wild with little stick-on gems below his eyes. You always wear such a happy smile on your face he would never deny you these small moments.

Lix loves shopping with you, since he obviously wants to look his best for you and spoil you at the same time. So buying new fits together is always fun. He gets to know your taste in clothing better and sometimes you surprise him with a color or piece of clothing he would've never thought of wearing before. The joy in your eyes when you find something for him makes him melt into a puddle right there.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits

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folklorefairyy · 10 months

Text

of glasses and grins - s.h

summary - in which steve really needs glasses but has a lifetime of insecurities that has him hiding them. lucky for him, his girlfriend knows just how to make him smile.

warnings - mentions of violence (punches), mentions of bullying (taunts/nicknames from other kids), insecurities, fem!reader, kissing and general relationship touching (nothing sexual), reader sits on steve’s lap

word count - 1.4k

authors note - this is inspired by a request from the lovely vic <3 which you can find here!

i know there’s a lot of headcanons about steve needing glasses due to his head injuries and that inspired his need to wear them more here! i remember seeing this months and months ago so if anyone knows any specific people that was big on that, i’d love to give credit!!

Steve Harrington had taken one too many blows to the head. On the receiving end of fists far too often it’s safe to say his body had felt their toll. His eyesight wasn't the best to begin with, having reading glasses in middle school. After receiving enough ‘geek’ or ‘four-eyes’ jokes he eventually put them to rest in the back of the drawer of his bedside table.

As ‘King Steve’ he ignored his need to squint when chatting in the back of class, or the migraine’s he’d endure, because he’d finally built an image he didn't want to tarnish. His reputation was fragile, and he'd much rather take a physical blow than one to his ego. Until he started getting hit, a lot, and suddenly the incessant migraines became more than a dull ache and the blurinnes was more than a smudge.

You had started dating Steve after highschool, not aware of past comments or cohorts, nor the journey that has led to your boyfriend constantly rubbing his eyes and having a few close calls with rogue tree branches when driving.

It was one movie night, snuggled on the sofa with your legs scrunched onto his lap, his strong arm pressing into your back and thumb smoothing over the exposed skin of your shoulder, that you finally voiced your concerns.

For the past half hour Steve had been watching the movie through one half-closed eye, trying desperately to get it to focus. Everytime you peered up at his face he simply looked down at you and winked, or stuck his tongue out, or did practically any adorably dorky facial expression you could name in order to distract you.

Raising your hand to thumb at his cheek, you whisper a ‘Baby,’ receiving a hum from him as he turns his attention to you. Steve thinks he could hear just about every pet name fall from your lips and never get enough of it; his heart feeling warm at the thought of being your anything.

‘Are your eyes bugging you?’ you prod softly. He shuts them with a sigh, head leaning into your palm which has spread across his cheek. He half-heartedly shakes his head no, more of a tilt than anything. Prompting again you plead, ‘Stevie, please don’t lie to me.’ Your voice is filled with such sweetness he feels guilty for all of his hiding, wondering how he could ever deny the honey in your voice.

‘A little,’ he finally confesses, voice more a whisper of breath than an actual sound. He feels a little silly, keeping his eyes shut to avoid his truth - that his eyes have been bugging him long before you got together. ‘They always hurt to be honest, usually just ignore it.’

His confession tugs at your heart, your sweet boy hiding a pain you can’t magically fix with the kisses and soft words you’d usually resort to.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ you ask feeling slightly wounded, like you’ve failed as a girlfriend for not knowing sooner. You move your thumb back and forth on his cheek, reassuring him you weren’t mad but concerned.

He peers up at you through heavy eyes, lips pulled between teeth in an anxious tell. ‘I knew you’d make me wear my glasses if I told you about them.’

You tut softly and lean to kiss between his brows, ‘Oh honey, what’s wrong with your glasses?’ The revelation shocked you momentarily, the prospect of your boyfriend in glasses a welcome image but an unexpected one.

He looks away from you again, old taunts swimming in his head. ‘I’d look stupid,’ he mutters. ‘You’d find me ugly or weird and wouldn’t want me anymore.’

You could sob at the confession, firstly for the inaccuracy but secondly because you can’t believe he’s been harbouring such insecurities. Moving to grasp his face in both hands you press a kiss to his lips this time, so sweet love itself bloomed between them. ‘Honey, if you need them to see you need them.’ Another meeting of lips to reassure him. ‘Plus I think you’d look handsome in just about any get-up.’ you whispered against his lips, brushing them with a soft smile.

The comment almost pulls Steve’s mouth into a smile of his own, but his past tugs them back down. ‘That’s real sweet baby, but no one else thought so and I wouldn't blame you either.’

At this point your desperation to have Steve rid himself of such thoughts takes over and you don’t think before you’re imbing onto his lap and squishing him to the sofa, face to face, chest to chest, trying very hard to make your point, as though the physical contact would make your opinion replace the one in his brain.

Eyes staring into his, but with an incredible softness that he always elicits, you try your best to convince him otherwise. ‘Firstly, Steve Harrington, glasses are a completely normal thing to have and so many people wear them. Whoever taught you otherwise can go suck it, and I’m sorry they made you uncomfortable wearing them.’

Your sudden brashness and the random full naming of him had his heart feeling a little lighter. You, however, were not done. ‘And secondly, my boyfriend is beautiful, and I know damn straight he is going to look so pretty in his glasses. If the mental images I’m seeing are anywhere near the real deal then I’m in trouble.’ A kiss to the freckles on his nose, your silent sign of ‘I love you.’ ‘I’m gonna have to fight off a lot of people when they get a look at you, trust me.’

At this he lets out a low chuckle, lips finally pulling into that grin you so love, the urge to kiss it only slightly overpowered by your pride in removing some of his sadness.

He leans up slowly and kisses your nose back, the smile still painting his lips as he pulls away. ‘Wow, sweetheart, you really do love me huh? Thinking I’d be wooing everyone and wanting to fight for me?’

Hands smoothing his hair back, you move nose to nose, their tips kissing, and whisper upon his growing grin, ‘Oh handsome, I’d go to war for you.’

At your confession, he pulls your body down to lay on the sofa, arms wrapping around your waist, and presses his weight into you, peppering kisses into your hair and your cheeks, until he finally reaches your lips. You’re both giggling, giddy with love and a connection between you that can't be described but only felt, for it’s uniquely yours.

He looks like an angel above you, hair curtaining his face, the halo of light from the lamp illuminating him in a honeyed glow. Hand returning to his cheek, it’s favourite spot to be, you press another kiss to his lips. ‘Can you please go get your glasses? I want to work out how many people I’ve got to plan on fighting.’

He presses another kiss back, ‘Oh my tough girl, how could I ever leave you unprepared.’ Steve pulls himself off you, not without reluctance and another peck, before running upstairs to venture in the spot of his drawer he always thought he’d leave untouched, trying to wish the taunts away but never quite succeeding.

As he crept back down the stairs that anxiety of being judged bloomed in his chest and he faltered on the last step. But then he spots the back of your head, perched on the sofa so patiently, knee bobbing up and down as your enthusiasm seeped through, and he knows, that you are the one person who could see past the glasses, who would love him regardless, and so he took the final step.

The creaking of the staircase grabs your attention as your eager head whips round so fast Steve swears you’ve given yourself whiplash. The biggest smile blooming on your face at the sight of Steve, a nervous smile on his own, decorated so beautifully with a pair of wide-lensed, silver glasses.

You rush from your seat, too gleeful to wait for him to come to you. Hands to face once again, cocooning it in that warm cage he so loved, you dote a hundred kisses to his cheeks, give or take, before leaning back to whisper softly, ‘Oh my beautiful boy, I am going to have to work on my punches.’

Steve let out a loud laugh, fresh with adoration, and pressed what was not to be the last kiss that evening to your lips. You were just so precious, true sweetness in your intentions. He may have thought he’d never wear them again, but he now thinks he won’t ever take them off, just to see that spark in your eyes reflected in the glass of his once hated frames.

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 14 days

Text

hidden fear [m.leon x reader]

prompt: mapi has a secret fear of flights

author notes: this is me trying to force myself to write 🙇🏽‍♀️ im going to do abunch of blurbs/mini fics based off single words. this blurb's word is "fear." can y'all tell i have never been to an airport or Ona plane before? yeah.. anyways hopefully y'all enjoy it 💗

one perk of being a soccer player was the opportunity to travel the world and see so many new places that the average person wouldn't have the time or resources to see. you always enjoyed this fact, not even needing to plan a lot of vacations to destinations outside of spain since you have seen many countries; that doesn't mean you don't take the first opportunity to go somewhere else if offer though.

all players are used to flying once they go pro. even before they join the pro leagues, college teams and youth national teams travel quite a lot too. even if it's not enjoyable the players just have to deal with it. taking flights is a part of the job. some people hate it, others don't really care, and some love it.

however, you have never seen a professional footballer ever be afraid of flying or at least admit it out loud. especially not a player who's been pro for more than six years; isn't it natural to get over it at some point? well you met your first when you started dating mapi.

when you first joined barcelona you weren't the most talkative person. often just carrying on small talk during practice and going home right after. mapi was intrigued by your quietness. the spanish team had it's fair share of introverts, but after a while of being in the team they open up to being pretty loud themselves. why weren't you? soon enough she was trying her hardest to get you out of your shell. inviting you to activities outside of soccer related things like dinner or going to the beach, talking to you in the locker room since you were near her cubby, and pulling you into vibrant conversations with the others. all of her effort weren't in vain as you eventually did open up; becoming quite bubbly and even mirroring some of mapi's own social habits.

all this spending time together outside of soccer made the strong friendship between the spainard and you slowly transform into something else. with your quiet nature, you weren't going to confess your feelings first. even after opening up to mapi more than the others; it just wasn't apart of your personality. so instead she took it upon herself to ask you out one day. after practice pulling you to the side after a long practice filled with mistakes to ask you if you wanted to go to dinner like usual, but instead of as friends, it would be as lovers. obviously you said yes and here you are a year later, stronger than ever.

for that entire year you two have been together so far, mapi has been hiding a secret from you. from everyone.

mapi was afraid of flying. she was good at hiding her nerves everytime the team boarded a plane by saying she was just tired or hungry. all her hiding came to a head one day when barcelona was about to be on their way to a uwcl match against lyon.

"do you think they have pretzels in the airport in france? the pretzel shop here is all out," you pout at your girlfriend as you two sit in the airport. it was around an hour before it was time for the team to board the flight, so just like any seasoned flyer, everyone was getting their snacks and drinks.

mapi laughs seeing your pout. finding it absolutely adorable. she pecks it off your lips, "i don't know. do the french even like pretzels?" she says after pulling away. the kiss does wipe the pout off your face, but doesn't help your little problem.

"i don't know and that's why they're so strange!" you throw your hands up in over exaggerated annoyance. your right hand ends up colliding right with keira who was sitting next to you. she playfully scoffs before pushing your hand down, "let's just focus on the match. not the lack of pretzels. they have baguettes which is essentially the same thing but tall and long."

"that's what she said," mapi giggles. her words earn her a small smack on the back head by alexia who somehow made her way over to you three without any of you noticing her. the short haired woman pouts as she rubs the spot alexia smacked her. "act your age, mapi," the spanish captain says, "anyways i came over here to tell you guys that it's going to be raining outside when we board, so have on some type of jacket or coat."

mapi side eyes alexia which makes the woman almost smack the back of her head again. "and i mean it, maria. you get sick easily, don't even try to act like you don't," alexia chuckles. soon after walking off to go tell the others scattered around the airport.

you pull mapi into a slightly awkwardly positioned hug the moment she starts her childish whining. "she just hit me!" mapi fake whines, holding onto your arm. keira rolls her eyes. focusing all of her attention onto her phone instead of mapi's shenanigans. the spainard drags on the act for a few more minutes before letting out a sigh. there was an obvious drop in her mood once you let her go. your mind races to find a reason why your girlfriend went from being her usually childish self to quiet.

"what is it, babes? don't want to wear a jacket?" you joke. trying to lighten up her mood. she lets out a short laugh but goes back to her unusual behavior. mapi tries to make herself behave like usual, but too many thoughts about the rain were bothering her. what if the rain makes the plane act funny? what if the rain turns into a thunder storm? how would a plane even go through the thunder and lightning? too many thoughts that she was not about to share; what would think of her?

"c'mon, what is it? i'm here to help you if it's anything crazy," you lean in towards her. not sure if she was okay with openly saying her feelings in such a public space. well, no one was truly around. all of the other barcleona players in their own conversations, lazing around, or still getting food. no one would hear anything she says.

mapi purses her lips before sighing. what would be the harm in telling you? you know everything else about her. "i'm scared.." she whispers to you.

"scared of what?"

"of the plane. of flying in general," the spainard pouts when your expression of confusion turns into a light hearted one. you giggle but stop once mapi has that sad look on her face. "why have you never told me? and why haven't i ever noticed?" you question quietly. shrugging before pecking mapi's lips.

"babe, did you think i would laugh? i am but not because i find it stupid. it's okay to be afraid of flying. i'm afraid of the dark and i'm not eight anymore"

mapi lets out a genuine laugh at that. easily slipping into teasing you as she says, "oh? thank you for that info, amor. it will be handy later." you give her shoulder a light slap making her say ow. she rubs the place you hit and pouts at her, "what was that for?"

"if you prank me using the dark, i will hurt you," you playfully threaten. mapi just smiles at that. your hand grabs onto her free one and squeezes, "anyways. mapi, it's okay to be afraid of flying. you should have told me sooner so i could be there for you on flights."

"yeah. lo siento, princesa," she squeezes your hand back. just happy you weren't making fun of her; not that she thought you would, but still her mind isn't always rational with its fears. mapi pecks your cheek before whispering to you, "but don't tell anyone else. i'm not ready for the teasing."

you just nod your head. already knowing how quick the majority of the barcelona players are to jab at and joke at each other.

coach soon tells everyone to get ready to go. mapi now feeling more settled after telling you about her little secret. once on the flight, your girlfriend gets all comfortable in her window seat. holding onto your hand for almost the entire flight unless you had to get up and use the bathroom.

telling you about her little secret wasn't so bad after all.

#mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #fc barcelona x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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gatorbites-imagines · 4 months

Note

Dude, Absolutely write more about Steve and his 200 year old boyfriend. I wanna see into their life together more. Does Y/N become part of the avengers? What’s an average day for the two of them? What do the other Avengers think of them together? Has Steve ever called Y/N daddy out in public or in earshot of the other Avengers on accident? How inseparable are they? Anything you can come up with I’ll love man. Your writings so damn good!

Steve Rogers x Male reader

Headcanons

I was honestly so in love with the kinktober prompt with Steve and his 200-year-old lover, so I got excited when I got this request. Let’s say his hero name is Titan, just to have some old school sounding name.

The morning after your reunion, the two of you just laid in Steves bed, basking in each other’s presence and the fact that you were both alive.

After many kisses, from pecks to deep tongue filled kisses, and after a few rounds of Steve riding you again, as he was so taken with the fact that he finally could, you two finally talked.

You explained to him how you were a mutant, and how sorry you were for never telling him, how it had never crossed your mind to do so. And he apologized for throwing his life away like that, and leaving you the way he did.

Over the next couple of weeks, you stay in his apartment, even when Steve goes out to do avenger work or do stuff for SHIELD. He is always so tense when he walks in through the door, but he quickly finds you and crawls into your lap with a sighed “Daddy”, as if your presence alone is enough to calm him.

During this time, you introduce him to the future better than anyone else is able too, even rewarding him for being such a good student, just for the fun of it. You also end up telling him not to trust SHIELD, as you’ve seen who is involved with it, and what they do.

The Avengers team just assume Steve is uncomfortable with the future, and that’s why he’s always rushing home after missions or meetings, but in reality its to get home to you. When days are too rough, all he needs is you to squeeze him so tight his vision starts blurring and he’s left lightheaded.

He needs his daddy to take him out of his head, to take away his duty as Captain America, and just let him be your boy. Being with you is refreshing in the way that you always see him as Steve before you see him as Captain America, you’ll always see him as your boy before anything else.

The avengers first discover your existence during the attack on New York, as there is no way in hell you’ll allow your boy to run around on his own, especially not when you have more than a hundred years of experience than any of the members of the Avengers.

So, imagine their surprise when you come crashing in on your motorcycle, throw it right at a cluster of enemies, and immediately start tearing through the enemies with extreme skill.

I haven’t decided if you have any powers except for extreme strength, regeneration, no aging, the likes. But if you want, you can imagine the reader having any powers you want.

When everything is done and over with, the team, except for Steve, tenses when you start marching towards them. Seeing how you ripped apart the aliens with as much difficulty as one would a sheet of paper, they are on edge.

That is until you walk right past Tony, right past Natasha, right past all of them, walking right towards Steve. Whose face you take in your hands and start turning him this way and that, checking him over for injuries.

They’re all speechless to a certain degree, some more than others, especially when they see Steve start smiling and blushing like some kind of fair maiden.

Tony pulls a whole “are you guys also seeing this”, especially when you kiss Steve out of nowhere, and Steve almost arches into it, forgetting his shield somewhere on the ground to clutch onto you like a couple in an action movie.

Tony ends up being the one clearing his throat and being all “soooo… you gonna introduce us?” to get Steve and your attention.

Steve almost ends up introducing you as his Daddy, but he catches himself the last second and introduces you as his lover from before the war. When they want to know how you’re still alive, you just shrug and say you’re a mutant and you go by Titan.

After that you just kinda start hanging around the tower, but you aren’t an official part of the team. You don’t want to work for SHIELD, and you don’t want to work for the government. you’re also technically an honorary member of the X-men, a role you take seriously.

You end up getting along pretty well with the rest of the team, as you can take an interest in at least some of the things they are all into. You especially get along well with Tony, when you tell him you knew his father, and that he was a huge tool.

Seeing Steve with a man means that most of them need to change up the mental image they had of Steve, but seeing how happy and domestic you guys are, it’s clear it’s been a long-lasting relationship that just wasn’t in the history books.

If you guys end up rescuing Bucky and fixing him up without the whole civil war situation, you all end up just kinda living at the tower. You have your own apartment in Brooklyn, but its mainly for storage or if you and Steve need to go somewhere without anyone with super hearing nearby.

In the end its Bucky that exposes you guys for your title thing, as Steve has been too embarrassed to do it out in public the way you guys used too, and you respect his wants and needs.

It’s said in a very casual conversation too. Something along the lines of Bucky asking Steve “so, where’s was your daddy going this week anyway?” after you left to help the X-men. It causes a laugh from some of your teammates, as they think it’s a joke, until they see the blush on Steves face.

They’d think it’s just a kink for the bedroom in the beginning, until they start paying attention and hearing Steve mumble it to you when he needs comfort or reassurance. That’s when they learn its much more than just a kink.

It’s a way for Steve to give up all the pressure and responsibilities he feels in his life, for him to feel small and protected, to feel cared for, no matter what mistakes he may make. Its also there to reassure you that you are wanted and needed, that there is someone who loves you so deeply they want you to carry such a title to them.

Most of your team doesn’t really get it, but most of them have probably also seen weirder in their lives. Steve is also still a very private person in that regard, so it doesn’t call you that out in public, and you don’t make him.

Steve does allow himself to be more affectionate and vulnerable with you when your teammates are around, since they to some degree know what kind of relationship you guys have.

Like sitting in your lap on the couch when the team has movie nights, or letting you serve him dinner, or leaning against your chest when you hug him from behind. Or the times he is unsure of what to do in certain situations, and he looks at you for guidance.

Bucky is the calmest about it, since he remembers it from the 40s, and he had been around when it all started out. He didn’t have a title like you did, but he had seen how much comfort it brought you two, so he never questioned it.

So, all in all, the team accepts it as a dynamic you two have that they don’t really get involved with. Your knowledge helps them take down Hydra, and keeps lotsa the drama that happens in the movies from happening. Steves daddy didn’t just save him, but a lot of his teammates and innocent lives. Yay for Steves daddy.

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ceilidho · 8 months

Text

prompt: possessive best friend soap (part 1)

You’ve known Johnny for roughly—

“Whassit been—like twenty plus years, hen? I ken our mams have been close since we were in nappies, so we sort of grew up together, wouldn’t ya say?”

—too many years. You’ve been putting up with him for too many years now. Not more than you can count, but more than you can be bothered to relay to your bewildered-looking date sitting across the table from you. Besides, Johnny hardly needs you to fill in the blanks; since pulling up a chair beside the two of you, he’s been quite happy to share the intimate details of your friendship.

“‘Fact, almost moved in together a coupla years ago. ‘Am no’ sure why we didn’t. Might still, at some point. But I bet you knew that, huh—what was it, Rodney? Yeah, Rodney. Kinda a strange name, isn’t that? We had a dog named Rodney growing up, do’ya remember, kitty cat?”

“Yes, John. I remember.” Your head is fully in your hands now, elbows leaning against the table because there’s no reason for table manners anymore. Not with the way Johnny’s shovelling your food into his mouth like he hasn’t eaten all day. It’s annoying that it’s still rather endearing; you push the plate closer to him so he doesn’t have to reach as far across the table and risk spilling your pasta all over the white tablecloth.

You’ve been trying to catch the waiter’s eye for the past five minutes, but it’s like the guy’s been paid off or blind or something because he does everything but look over at your table. What a waste of a night.

In fairness, the date hadn’t been going exceedingly well; Rodney had already made a couple of rather passive aggressive comments about your field of study and furrowed his brows a bit too tight when you mentioned wanting to order dessert.

“Sorry, I just need to—I’ll be right back,” you mutter, scooching away from the table and wincing when your chair scrapes across the floor. You scurry off to the bathroom while Johnny keeps prattling on about whatever inane topic he’s chosen this time to your date, who is looking increasingly agitated. His expression is pinched like he has a stomachache.

In the bathroom, you wet a paper towel and press it lightly to your cheeks so your makeup doesn’t smudge. They’ve been hot since Johnny sauntered into the restaurant and made a bee-line for your table, ignoring your repeated kicks under the table and you mouthing at him to leave. It’s not fair. You go out once a month if you’re lucky because work usually takes priority in your life and now Johnny’s on leave for the next month. You’ve made peace with the fact that you’re going to have to delete all dating apps off your phone for at least the next foreseeable month.

When you come back, you’re not altogether shocked to find only Johnny still at the table, your date long gone. He scoops up the leftover red sauce with the table bread, looking like he’s having the time of his life even on his own.

“Made a break for it, did he?” you ask, sighing when you collapse despondently into your chair.

“Sorry, kitty cat,” Johnny apologies with big, beseeching eyes. “Tried to tell ‘im he didn’t hav’ta leave, but he wouldn’t have it. Paid his bill at least, good lad. The guy's a pure fandan, wasn’t he?”

You don’t necessarily want to encourage his behaviour by agreeing with him, but you can’t help the soft sound that escapes you.

Only on the drive home—you’d walked to the restaurant, but Johnny drives the two of you back to his place because he insists on making it up to you with ice cream and a movie—do you begrudgingly admit to yourself that you’re glad Johnny interrupted your date. If he was going to intrude on any date, at least it was that one. An otherwise lousy date might still have a good ending.

“Yer too good for him anyway, kitty cat,” Johnny sniffs on the drive home. You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, scrunching up your nose. You hadn’t even brought it up. “Did’ya see the way he chewed with his gob wide open? Pure repulsive behaviour. Who does that in front of a lady?”

“I don’t remember asking you about my choice of dates, Johnny.”

He laughs, reaching across to give your thigh a little squeeze. You ignore the way it makes your stomach jump. “‘Said my peace. Just don’t wanna see you settling for some numpty who hasn’t got any common decency.”

You grunt because the alternative is opening your mouth and screeching at the top of your lungs. You know this. It’s not your fault that the dating pool in your town is small to begin with and you’re picky on top of that. There’s some criteria for Man etched into your frontal lobe that you can’t read but you know is there, and it rejects every single guy you’ve ever dated.

At his place, he gets you comfortable on the couch before going to the kitchen and coming back with a bowl of ice cream filled to the brim and a single spoon. You snap at him when Johnny sits way too close to you—so close in fact that you’re pressed up against the side of the two while there are two full cushions on the opposite side of him—but he just coos and feeds you anyway, making train noises when he brings the spoon to your mouth.

He’s a rapscallion. He’s incorrigible and a devil and you miss him so much sometimes when he’s away doing whatever it is he does in the military that it hurts your heart. It literally hurts when he’s away. So you let him spoil you when he’s back in town on his annual leave or when he’s granted an exemption for a wedding or a funeral. You soak up every minute with your blue-eyed puppy dog of a best friend, content to leave the dates and your other friends for when he’s gone.

That’s been the pattern now for going on several years.

Winter is the ascetic’s season anyway. You have no reason to keep trying once the weather gets colder. So instead, you go to work during the day and then hunker down at night, only seldomly going out for drinks with friends or visiting your family for weekend brunch.

Johnny must miss you too while he’s away because the man borders on feral when he comes back. Tactile as all hell. Nary a moment goes by when he doesn’t have his hands on you somehow—big hands smoothing over your shoulders when you complain about your back aching, a hand squeezing your thigh teasingly in the car, callused fingers pinching your cheeks and squishing them together like a fish.

“Okay, now say, ‘Johnny, thank you for chasing off my bawbag of a date and buying the choco-mint,’” he coos, squishing your cheeks with one hand, the other draped along the back of the couch behind you. He’s so close that you can smell the sweat on his skin, his scent a heady musk.

You glare up at him, mollified by the ice cream but annoyed that he won’t stop rubbing it in. “Jawny, yew are an idjiot.”

He shakes his head, eyes sparkling. “No, that's no’ right. You got wax in your ears, kitty cat? Do I need ta’ check?”

You screech when he turns your head to the side and bites your ear, trying to crawl off the side of the couch, but he pulls you back down. Nearly pulls you on top of him, blowing raspberries into your temple and laughing. It’s almost impossible to escape from his arms, beefy since he enlisted years ago. They tighten around you, holding you in place while he nips at your earlobe and nuzzles into the side of your head.

He’s near doubled in size since back then. Sometimes even the sight of him makes your head spin. He towers over you, not always the tallest in the room, but always standing the straightest, the proudest. Aware of the breadth of his shoulders and his physicality, loose and limber for the most part until someone gets on his bad side and you see the change wash over him. Cocky grin turned down and hard. Arms stiff by his sides.

Not now though. Not in the little warm bubble of his living room, breath punched out of you with shrieking laughter. It’s hard to remember why you were upset with him in the first place.

“Gonna need you to give me a break, kitty,” Johnny breathes into your neck when he finally turns the movie on, pulling your legs until they’re draped across his lap. “How’m I supposed to keep an eye on you from across the world?”

“You don’t have to interrogate all my dates,” you mutter, eyes sliding shut. It’s warm in your bubble and the warmth makes you sleepy. Too bad Johnny doesn’t have a guest room at his place. You’ll probably end up drooling on his bicep when he carries you to bed.

“Yeah, I do.” His voice is low, muffled against the top of your head. “No one’s good enough for my girl. Gotta make sure they know that.”

#ignore my GODAWFUL attempt at phonetically translating scottish #cod mw2 #ceil writing #cod x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap x you #soap x reader

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obsolescent · 8 months

Note

You’re gonna hate seeing my name every time you open this app from how much I do and will resquest you 😭

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJG8npPb/

Here me out. This but^

Single mother y/n with a kid and ghost just came back from a mission and needed to buy something for his small house and sees y/n struggling to pick some heavy things up while her kid keeps laughing and saying everything like the girl in the video. i have so many other requests I’d love to because you’re writing is probably my favorite /srs. hope you have a nice end of the month. Love ya 🩷

The Necessity of Saints

Part Two (NSFW)

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x SingleMom!Reader

Author's Notes: Ough, I had fun writing this out. Love these prompts so much, you don't understand! I will never tire of requests I promise, they fill me with so much motivation and I'm so happy I'm one of your favorites, that means so much to me!! I hope you enjoy this and hope you’re having the best month!! I am not opposed to writing a spicier second part to this, just let me know ♡ Once again I am thinking about Simon showing off his muscles and being happy to help someone in need.

Content warnings: Feminine reader, reader uses she/her pronouns and uses mom, your daughter is named Rhea.

“Good Lord, why does wood have to be so HEAVY,” you grunt out, trying unsuccessfully to pull the wooden beam out of the pile. Your kid stands off to the side, stifling her giggles with her hand, finding much enjoyment in your predicament. You stand up and stretch your limbs, getting ready for another go at it. You take a deep breath, bending with your knees, and begin pulling again, with more force behind it.

Sweating dripping off your brow, you continue to tug at the piece of wood, pleading with it to just MOVE. “Can someone help my mama?” Your kid finally yells out, causing you to whirl towards her with a panicked look on your face. “Rhea!” You hiss, seeing your phone in her hands, recording your ordeal. “Please, someone, my mama won’t ask for help and she needs it!” Rhea exclaims, drawing out the end of ‘please’.

“Stop filming me struggling, dammit!” You try to contain your own laughter, hurrying back to continue pulling, hoping to finally get it to move before anyone hears your daughter’s yelling, not wanting an encounter with a random stranger. Rhea continues to hoot and holler, hoping to garner attention to you both. Your face now red from a mixture of stifled laughter, exertion, and embarrassment.

“What’s all this, then?” A gravelly voice booms out, halting yours and your daughter's movements. You both turn towards the voice, finding a large, tall man, standing off to the side, hands on his hips. His brown eyes glitter with what looks to be amusement, probably been watching quietly for a while. Your ears burn, straightening up and wiping your hands off on your shirt.

“I’m so sorry to bother your shopping, please ignore my–” “My mama won’t ask for help and she needs it! Please help her!” Your daughter cuts you off. You put your hands over your face, groaning. “Is that all?” He asks, raising a blond eyebrow at your kid. She nods, finally putting the phone down after succeeding in her mission.

“Alright then, let’s have at it,” British accent now noticeable after the initial shock, he walks over to the wood you’re standing in front of, easily lifting a beam into his arms. “How many?” He asks, looking towards you. You stand there in shock, at how easily he was able to lift it, to his bulging muscles now able to be seen through his shirt.

“J-just that one, sir. I need it cut into three 6-inch pieces, though,” You stutter out, realizing your gaze had been on him for too long. That glint in his eyes doesn’t go away, you assume he noticed the staring. “To the wood-cutting area, then?” He turns, walking off in the direction of the wood-cutting services. You and your daughter share a look before scurrying after him.

Once you arrive, you tell the associate what you want, and they begin the process. The three of you stand off to the side while they cut, looking over at the man, you begin speaking. “I really appreciate what you did for us, thank you…?” “Simon,” He offers his name, you giving your own and your daughter’s. “Thank you, Simon. Is there anything I can do to repay you for helping?” You ask, reaching for your bag. “Don’t worry about it,” He grunts out, walking forward to grab the pieces they’ve finished with, loading them onto a cart.

Once they’re done, he wheels the cart towards the checkout, paying for the wood. “Oh! Sir, you don’t have to–""Don’t worry about it, love,” He says again, adding ‘love’ to the end of this one, causing your cheeks to redden. Once the transaction is complete, he pulls the cart outside. “The car park is pretty big, you can pull your car up to the entrance, I’ll load it.” He says, You nod, you and Rhea walk quickly to your car, getting inside and buckling in.

You pull your car around to the front of the store, opening the trunk. He begins loading the wood inside, making quick work of the now smaller pieces. Once done, he comes around to your side of the car. You roll your window down, going to thank him again, when he holds his hand up. “Could’ve hurt yourself. Just ask for help next time, yeah? Don’t have to do everything alone,” He says, causing your mouth to fall open, like he read your mind. “But, if you’re privy to certain help, you can always give me a ring,” He hands over a card with a number on it, with his full name, ‘Simon Riley’.

“Thank you, Simon. I’ll be sure to let you know,” You say, bashfully. He smirks, “Have a lovely day, you two,” He says, before walking back inside the store. You roll your window up, pulling away from the entrance. You’re driving for a bit, both silent, before Rhea finally speaks up, “He was really cute, and nice. You should text him.” You sputter. “Rhea! I have no idea who he even is–""Get to know him! He was, like, totally checking you out, and so were you,” She says, looking over at your blushing face. “I don’t know…” You trail off. You hadn’t done much dating in a very long time. Not having much time for it between your daughter and work. Now that Rhea is a teenager, maybe you could have some time to find a relationship?

Seemingly reading your mind (ya’ll gotta stop doing that), she adds, “I’m old enough to watch myself, go have some fun!” You roll your eyes, a smile forming on your face. Maybe he wouldn’t be against seeing you under different circumstances?

Arriving home and maneuvering the now much easier to handle wooden pieces, you set them in a pile inside the garage, for your upcoming project. Once inside and settled in, you pull out the card and contemplate what you’ll say. You add his number to your contacts and pull up a message screen for him. You let him know it’s you and add,

‘I would really like to get to know you more, if you’re not opposed?’

A few minutes later, he responds.

‘Not at all opposed, love. Just let me know what time is best for you x’

#o fics #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #ghost cod #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fluff

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romantichomicide95 · 8 months

Text

☾ megumi fushiguro

prompt 67- “do you mind if I stay here tonight?”

notes: anon request. mutual pining, super soft and fluffy. i accidentally did this prompt twice but 🤷🏽‍♀️ i like this one better.

word count: 1.6k

It was past curfew and the school grounds were enveloped in an eerie silence. The summer moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale glow over the landscape. You found yourself wandering the grounds, your mind pre-occupied with too many things, unable to sleep. As you turn a corner, you unexpectedly collide with someone, stumbling back slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," a familiar voice apologizes, and you look up to meet the concerned gaze of Megumi Fushiguro. His sapphire eyes shine in the dim light as he offers you a small, sheepish smile. "Are you okay?"

You nod, offering a shy smile in return. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just wasn't paying attention." You look down to the ground, what were the chances? Running into the very person who’d been on your mind.

Megumi's eyes linger on you for a moment, almost as if he's trying to read your thoughts. "Are you out here alone?"

You nod again, running a hand through your hair. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep. I like to take walks sometimes, clears my head." You shuffle awkwardly on your feet. It wasn’t that you weren’t comfortable with Megumi, but running into him, in the dead of night, wearing nothing but your maybe too short pajama shorts was certainly causing a shyness to take over. Especially with the feelings that had been growing for him these past few months.

Megumi shifts slightly, you’re to focused on how pretty his features are in the moonlight to notice his gaze trail along your body. He shifts again awkwardly, hoping you didn’t catch him before he speaks, his voice low. “Yeah. I uh- understand that feeling. Sometimes it's just... too much, you know?" he confesses.

“Yeah.” you say sitting on a nearby bench, “Exactly…sometimes the pressure just gets to me and then I don’t sleep. Is that uhm- is that how you feel too?”

“Yeah. Being a sorcerer isn’t easy.” Megumi says, still standing. It was nice, knowing he understands the weight of it all. The other made it look so easy, like doing what you all did was a piece of cake. But not Megumi, he somehow always made you feel like you weren’t alone, even without words. You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of comfort.

"Yeah, being a sorcerer definitely has its challenges," you say. "It can be overwhelming at times, trying to balance everything and keep up with the expectations. It’s honestly nice to know someone else feels it too."

Megumi nods. "You're definitely not alone. So uh- don’t ever feel like you are. I understand how you feel.”

“Thanks Megumi. I appreciate that more than you know.” You say giving him a smile. Seeing you smile makes him smile and he doesn’t even realize it. Something about your smile was always infectious to him, he didn’t quite know why. “I should probably head back though,” you continue, “it was nice talking to you though. Really nice.”

Without hesitation, Megumi offers his hand, helping you off the bench. "I can walk you back to your room…if you want." He says, scratching the back of his neck.

“I would really like that.” You say. As you begin to walk back to the dorms, the rhythmic sound of both your footsteps fills the air. You’re walking close to each other, your hands very slightly grazing each other as you walk. You’re not sure if Megumi notices, but every time your fingers graze each others your heartbeat gets louder and louder. The touch sending electricity through your body.

When you finally reach your door, you come to a stop. You can't help but feel a sense of reluctance, not wanting this moment to end. It becomes apparent that Megumi feels the same as he clears his throat, fidgeting with his sleeves.

"Do you mind if I stay here tonight?" he asks, his voice sounding almost shy. "Just until you fall asleep. I don't really want to be alone.”

Your heart skips a beat at his request, and as much as you want to reply with an enthusiastic 'yes', you can't help but let your own insecurities surface. Did he want to spend more time with you? Or did he think he was just being kind. You do your best to shake those thoughts out of your head.

"Of course, Megumi," you say softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "You can stay as long as you want."

Megumi's eyes widened, his breath catching momentarily. “Uh. Thanks.” He said, as you make your way inside your room.

A genuine smile touched your lips as you closed the door behind him. "Yeah of course. We can stay up and talk if you'd like, or I mean whatever you want to do."

Megumi nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Talking would be nice." Megumi hesitates for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly. "If that’s okay…I don't want to intrude or make you uncomfortable."

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'd actually really appreciate your company tonight, Megumi. It would be nice to have someone to talk to and help me calm my mind."

You both settle onto your bed, facing each other. For a while, the two of you engage in light conversation, discussing various random topics and exchanging stories. Megumi's genuine interest in what you have to say makes the feelings you have seem to grow in that instant. When you run out of things to talk about you suggest a movie, not really wanting the night to end.

“Yeah. I’m cool to watch a movie. “ He says, and you put a random movie on netflix. You get comfortable, sitting side by side in your bed in silence, and although you feel your eyes get heavy you don’t care. Because this is the happiest you think you’ve been in a long long time.

_____________

You wake up, surprised to find yourself nestled against Megumi's side, your head resting on his chest. You realize what happened last night, the talking, the movie, and then you both must have accidentally fallen asleep. You look up to see Megumi’s eyes still closed, you can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest and realize he must still be sleeping.

You don’t really want to move, your heart is racing but you can’t help but feel comfortable laying in his arms like this. They are wrapped around you, and as he stirs slightly, they tighten even more instinctively. You want to stay like this forever, wrapped in his arms. He looked so peaceful, you couldn’t help but stare.

He suddenly opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours. It takes him a minute to realize the position you’re in, for a second he just stays like that. His eyes heavily lidded, breathe slow. He’s comfortable too, having you in his arms. But the realization finally hits and he shifts awkwardly, pink hue rising to his cheeks. You sit up, looking away slightly, feeling a bit embarrassed yourself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep like that," you say softly.

Megumi's cheeks turn even redder, and he clears his throat. "No, it's okay. I guess we were both tired." He rubs the back of his neck, looking a bit flustered.

You give a small smile, trying to ease the tension. “Yeah. I uhm, it was a long night. I’m sorry if I like…made you uncomfortable by falling asleep on you like that."

He looks hesitant for a moment before he speaks. "No, it wasn't uncomfortable...It was uhm…it was nice." His voice is barely above a whisper when he says the last part, but you catch his words.

You feel a rush of warmth at Megumi's words, and you can't help but smile.A surge of courage takes over you, and you place a hand on his. He looks down, his blush deepening but he doesn’t attempt to move it. "Megumi, there's something I've been wanting to tell you," you say, your voice shaky and filled nerves. "I...I really like you.I have for like awhile, and last night was…it was really nice."

Megumi's eyes widen, surprise replacing the embarrassed expression on his face. "You...you like me too?"

“Too?” you question, taken aback. “Wait…you like me?”

"Yeah I feel the same way. I've been trying to find the right time to tell you, but I was afraid you didn't feel the same." He says squeezing your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “I’m uh- I’m glad you do though.” his eyes meet yours, and his gaze falls to your lips.

You can sense the nervousness and anticipation in the air as your eyes meet Megumi's, his gaze still fixed on your lips. Part of you wants to close the gap between you, to let your lips meet, something you’d been thinking about since you first laid eyes on him. But another part hesitates, aware of the awkwardness you feel.

But, your feelings take over, and you decide to take a small step forward. You lean in slowly, giving him the okay. He finally goes in and your lips meet, you can feel both of you holding back, unsure of how to navigate this. There's a mixture of innocence and longing in the way you kiss, evidence that you’d both been wanting this for so long.

Megumi’s hand cradles your cheek as the kiss grows more passionate, and comfortable, you can feel the electricity tingling through your body. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourselves in the sweetness of the moment.

After what feels like an eternity, you both slowly pull away, breathless but with smiles on your faces. Your foreheads rest against each other as you catch your breath.

"That was... nice," you say, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Yeah..." Megumi breathes, his voice soft. "It was... really nice."

tag list: y’all i didn’t forget this time @satorizz @cassiefromhell @chilichopsticks @withthegraceofthewind @belfiguevel @nobody289x @rlvsmegumi

#megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader fluff #fushiguro fluff #megumi fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #fushiguro megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x you

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k2ntoss · 2 months

Note

Omg omg omg

Pls do “shit— do that again” and “this is so wrong” with dickie grayson pretty please

(The second prompt gives enemies to lovers vibes SO MUCH, so if it’s included the better.)

— ❤️‍🩹 xx

SECOND ANON WITH AN EMOJI, LET'S FUCKING CELEBRATE!! first of all, thank you so much for this request, i have an idea buzzing into my head and if i don't post it i'll go insane (i'm already insane) and second... i'm listening to the weeknd so yeah....

“do that again- shit, just like that, right there.” + "this is wrong... so wrong." (plus enemies to lovers trope omg yes please!!!)

dick has never been known to be a bad detective, his partners adore him and so does every kid and person he helps, he does his job so well everyone is aware that whenever he's got a new case he will be at it all the time but there is just one person that doesn't really agrees with that, dick knows it and it gets on his nerves because it's always just his cases and investigations the ones that you observe and deny before they reach the court.

he really hated the moment he had to go present his case to the prosecutor, mostly when it was you who was assigned to it and what's worse it's that dick knows that you take it personal because there's no way on earth you let mobs or criminals to pay for justice and that is pretty much clear when you have an amazing percentage of cases won where criminals end up getting what they deserve.

"you have to be joking," at this point is almost a routine. dick arrives to your office with a folder filled with documents and reports from the officers and his own, a box full of evidence he picked up and sent to check to the labs, all the signed paperwork and the hope that you won't send him back to re-do all the work from zero "everything is in that folder!"

"detective, would you lower your damn voice?" you'd ask him, the snark on your tone is upsetting and dick has to take a deep breath to cool down a bit "there are several forms you haven't filled, how do you expect me to work like this?" and it was true, paperwork was important even if everyone hated doing it.

"you can't return the whole investigation for a couple of stupid papers! it's a big case, if you return it to the station we'll have to let the criminals go because the time runs up." dick is starting to lose every trace of patience and good will he has, hands gripping the fabric of his trousers and his hands clench a little more when you look at him, unamused and with any intention to help him.

"i can't help you if you don't bring everything in order, not to say that there are so many things that don't make sense on your files," you say, reading through some pages "this doesn't looks like a real detective's work, how do you expect me to do anything with this?" you leave the folder down, looking at him with your arms crossed over your chest and leaning back on the chair behind your desk.

dick is about to scream, you're telling him his work sucks and sending him back to do it all over again when he is sure there are cases pilling up back in the station but he has to hold it back. it's weird that the person he despises the most isn't some villain he fights at night but a prosecutor that he desperately wants to shut up for once and for all.

you are way too cocky for your own good and since the first case you dismised from his hands he has wanted to show you why he had the reputation he had, he's fighting his rage right now because he knew that in this case you were right and it would be stupid to keep pushing but he was too stubborn and a little too lost on how much he liked to get in your nerves.

"there's no way you can't help me with that case," he says and dick's voice is now an indicator of how upset he is feeling, not only because of you dismissing his work but also because this time he wasn't right (not that he has been before, he always forgot a paper or the whole background of a piece of evidence because he was too distracted on thinking how jolly the moment would be when you'd had to accept his work) "you just don't want to do it and that's bullshit, you should be dismissed from all the station's cases because this is personal."

"detective grayson," you warn him, if it was on your hands you'd help him just as you always tried to help but as a prosecutor you had to stick to the rules and make sure your coworkers did just the same "i'd suggest you to lower your tone and keep your emotions in check, the fact that i can't work with this investigation it's not my fault." you said, letting the folder fall back on your desk before standing up.

there went the last string of patience and good will dick had, he stood up but stayed still until you started walking your way to the door and he'd be lying if your figure wasn't distracting him a little bit with the way that greenish button up shirt hung a little loose on your shoulders but gave a hint of your figure. he had to shake his thoughts away and as soon as he saw your hand reaching for the door he darted towards you, pushing the door closed shut again and standing a little too close to you.

dick is hovering over you, looking down as his eyes fix on yours and there's no way to hide the surprise of the sudden outburst that causes you to flinch a little.

"you think so high of yourself, y/n," dick hisses as his eyes narrow, he leans in closer and it sends a spark that danced between anger and pure expectation from what he could do "you think that you make the fucking calls and that is just so upsetting, i wish i could just bring you down from that cloud and show you just what you are." he points at you and it's distracting because dick grayson has always managed to keep his anger in check.

"keep your emotions in check, detective" it was another warning, it came throught gritted teeth and narrowed eyes as you stand still ready to snap back at him on the first chance "am i the one that thinks too high of themself? let me break it to you, grayson, at least i'm trying to do my job as i have to."

the banter between you two has always been a little more snarky and less heated, not to be taken so serious because what you wanted to do was to push dick to do his absolute best so you could also help people to be safe out on the streets, living their lives but this time was just different because there was something else fueling the words.

there's a spark that ignites inside of dick as soon as your words hit close to home and next thing you know is that you're being cornered against the door of your office and he managed to inmobilize you; he grabs your shoulder to turn you around, his right leg between yours and his face right next to yours.

"you think you're better than the rest of us just because you get to take the credit of putting the bastards we catch behind bars but you just have to sit pretty here," he speaks lowly into your ear, his tone making it clear that he was letting it all out, months of bottled up frustration flowing out of him "you do nothing but talk, that's all that mouth of yours can do and it was just time someone put you in your place."

"richard grayson, you better back the fuck up now or–" you start, the warning hanging in the air and interrupted by a low grunt that just escaped your lips when he pressed a bit more against you just to mess with your nerves, causing his thigh to press a bit more between your legs and sending a jolt through your spine that mixed with all the emotions "do that again– shit," and even tho he is surprised and a little taken aback by your reaction he complies, moving closer until he could feel his leg pressed up against your clothed core and he decided to grind it teasingly "just like that, right there..."

"that's all it takes to turn off your brain?" he asks mockingly, his hand pressed between your shoulders as his lips brush against your era and it's easy to hear the smirk on dick's voice "pin you against the door and let you grind yourself against my thigh? it's pathetic how a smartmouth like you turns to a puddle when someone touches your cunt like this."

yeah, it's pathetic because he managed to shut you up without even trying and he's proud of it. his hand trails down your back until it reaches the lower part of it making sure to hold your body in a way you couldn't move your hips to grind on his thigh.

"go on, why don't you move?" he asks teasingly, his hand pressing harder when he felt the jerk of your hips and an amused laugh escapes his throat when you grunt frustrated "who would have thought that miss great prosecutor was such a desperate little slut." and he could have stopped there, make you help him because you'd be too embarrased to deny him anything after putting this show for him but dick decided to lean in and press a lingering kiss on your neck that made your breath catch on your throat.

"dick– fuck, don't be such an ass" you say in a hoarse tone, looking at the ceiling as you try to rock your hips once again, feeling yourself able to do so when dick's hand wanders from your back to your stomach and then up, resting between your breasts as he breathes you in.

"pretty fucked up, isn't it?" he asks against your neck, nibbling on the side of your neck as his fingers start undoing the buttons of your shirt while you grind against his thigh and everything feels so forbidden, one of your hands moving to lock the door because there was no way you'd let yourself get caught being groped by the detective you've told all your department you hated.

it wasn't news for your coworkers that dick and you had a long history of not getting alone but truth be told, you just wanted to make dick give his best because that would also allow you to give your best. it was a win-win, if only he saw it that way because you weren't trying to buy more time for the criminals to make up evidence or build new alibis or get fake witnesses.

dick gets your shirt open, his hands messily working on pulling your bra down and growling lowly when he saw your breasts spilling out against the door, his eyes moving from your chest to the way your features contorted from the way you were getting yourself off like this. with every jerk of your hips he could feel your ass pressed against his cock, the bulge inside his dressing pants now hard in a way you could feel it againt your body.

he lets go of you, turning you around and ignoring your grunt when you were left without that pleasurable feeling on your aching pussy. his hands gripping your hips as he presses a hungry kiss on your lips, demanding and bruising between the smirk it draws from him when you kiss him back with the same need as your hands undo his shirt, pulling it away from his body as he manages to walk until he is sitting on your desk with you sitting on his lap.

the messy making out is only interrupted when the clothes come out of your body, heavy breathing as he squeezes and gropes your flesh into his hands in a rush of pure lust that's fueled by the way your wetness feels when pressed against his hard on as he moves you to tease your pussy, his shaft moving between your folds and the wet sounds are only muffled by the low moans and growls you both try to keep as low as you can.

"this is wrong..." you say breathlessly, feeling how dick picks your body up with his arm around your waist as his free hand lines his tip with your entrance and he grunts into your neck when you are the one that slides down on him with your eyes closed shut "so wrong, god."

it's not much when your body moves on its own, going up and down on his cock as he looks up at you, hands gripping your waist to hold you as his lips are around one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it while your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders.

you'd never set yourself into this kind of situations but there was no time to think about how wrong this was when it felt so good, the way he filled you up as you rode him slowly, teasing him to grip your hips in order to set the pace to make you bounce on him.

"you look so good like that, fuck," he whispers against your chin when you start grinding on him, his hands on your hips so hard that his fingers bruise your skin as he thrusts deeper into your pussy "so desperate fucking yourself like a bitch in heat, you think you're using my cock for your pleasure but you're nothing but a pretty toy."

his words work as a turn on, the way he looks at you with hunger and need as he pounds harshly inside your cunt makes you moan without care on who could hear you.

"you look so pretty like that, so tight around me" he grunts into your ear and it's right there when he takes the lead, setting a fast pace as he holds your hips to make your body bounce "you like it like this? when you're being used like a dirty whore, sweetheart?"

"i like it so much, fuck–" you whine and the sound of your voice makes him chuckle, this was pretty bad because the degrading words were making you needier and the way you couldn't hide it made you appear more like a slut for him, clenching around him the closer you got to your climax as he hit all the right spots with each thrust he gave.

it was hard to talk for you, between moans and whines of pure delight that came after each stroke dick made as he kissed your jaw but he had no problem on doing it while his hand moved and reached that space on your pussy.

his thumb pressed against your clit made you shiver into his arms, whinning pathetically as he played with your sensitivity with a wide grin "look at the little mess you are, always so collected and now you're here with your legs all spread for me to fuck you into a brainless slut."

"dick– i'm close" you say, eyes teary and voice broken as your face finds a place into the crook of his neck but it's not too much time until he finds your gaze, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss into your lips before he pulls back and nods, thrusting in a faster pace and with deeper strokes.

"c'mon, cum for me, sweetheart." he growls against your ear, both hands holding your waist as your movements become sloppier and erratic, the tension on your belly building more and more until your orgasm hits your whole body making your walls clench tighter around him "that's it, that's a fucking good girl... i'll pull out now, yeah?"

and he doesn't wait for your response, knowing you won't be able to think straight while you were still on your high and with you still straddling his lap dick moves, strocking his cock until he is throbbing into his fist before he reaches his own climax, painting your stomach with those milky white streaks.

maybe, just maybe now he could find a way to fix his work without feeling so upset about it.

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madeofkay · 3 months

Text

Rainy Nights | Moon Knight X Reader

ONE SHOT (maybe?)

warnings: jake/marc/steven x fem!reader, angst, !!!dv abuse (not by them, but by an ex), stalking, creepy text messages, and so many typos (ill edit it soon— i wrote this at 4am lol)

summary: When your coworker Steven has growing concerns regarding your safety from an ex-boyfriend, he decides to drive you home one night.

please reblog if u liked it! i love to see comments too :)

Anxiety pooled in the cavity of your chest as you walked through the dimly lit museum, its halls empty now past closing time. A relentless patter of rain against the roof amplified your defeated mood, casting a pall over the end of your shift. Leaning wearily against the gift shop counter, you let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you.

“A long day for you?”

The male voice behind you jolts you, and you spin around, startled. "Maybe a warning next time?" you suggest, holding a hand over your racing heart.

Steven's lips form an 'o' of surprise before he nods hastily. "Apologies, really. I won't sneak up on you like that again." His eyes carry more guilt than he deserves, and you regret snapping at him.

"No worries, I might just startle too easily," you reply, resting your elbows on the countertop. "Nevermind me, how was your day, Steven?"

Steven's nerves spike at the chance to converse with you, a rarity amid your busy tour guide schedule. "Oh, you know," he stammers, grappling for words to make his boring gift shop shift sound cool. "Just a usual day for me." His gaze unintentionally dips to your attire, and he flushes, flustered by the sight of your breasts pressed together.

He shouldn’t look at you that way, he knows that. But you make him so nervous.

“I’m starting to think that I should’ve had control of the body for this interaction,” Marc spoke in his mind.

You nod and smile, charmed by Steven's shyness. "I hope that’s a good thing," you remark, recalling the challenges of your day as a tour guide at the museum. "Today, I was basically herding a bunch of primary school children. They were running off in every direction, and the chaperones were on their phones! It felt like I was conducting a circus instead of a museum tour." You gesture an explosion with your hand, prompting a cheeky smile from Steven.

A pinging sound from your pocket interrupts his response. Your eyebrows furrow as you dig it out of your dress pocket, unlocking it with your passcode.

Where are you, y/n?

Your heart sinks as you read the text from an unknown number, fear washing over your expression. Steven notices the shift in your demeanor, and resists the urge to glance at your phone. "I'm sorry, I just need to respond to this message," you murmur, turning away, your breaths growing shallow.

Please, it’s over. Just leave me alone.

His response came fast.

You know that isn’t true. I’ll come get you, why aren’t you home? I still care.

Are you already cheating on me with somebody else?

Please just tell me where you are, I’m sorry. I miss you so much. I just want to fucking talk to you.

A barrage of texts from your ex-boyfriend fills the screen with message bubbles. You swallow, feeling the weight clog your throat, your hands trembling as the desire to go home fills you.

To hide. That is, if home was still safe.

Steven's concern deepens as he draws near, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You flinch at the touch, hastily shoving your phone back into your pocket. But you know he's already had a glimpse of your phone screen. "Is everything alright, love?" he inquires, his voice laced with concern.

Marc was pissed off inside Steven’s head. “Who the fuck was texting her all of that?” he spat. Confusion grew in Steven’s mind as he contemplated the identity of the person behind the creepy messages. Lines of worry formed at the base of his forehead from the sound of your silence.

You force a tight-lipped smile, attempting to mask the turmoil swirling within. "It's nothing, just someone texting the wrong number," you respond, your voice strained with feigned nonchalance. Deep down, you know it's far from nothing. The barrage of texts dredges up memories you've tried so hard to bury, reopening wounds you thought had healed.

Steven's brow knit together, his gaze probing but respectful of your boundaries. "If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here," he offers gently, his sincerity evident in his soft tone. His words offer some reassurance amidst the anxiety raging inside your head.

You take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Steven nods his head in understanding after a few moments, unsure as to his next words. “Y/N,” he pauses, “allow me to drive you home tonight, it is quite late.”

Your mouth parts slightly without a response as you turn back to look at him. His eyes drag over your sunken expression, clearly worried. The sound of rain hitting the museum roof and the darkness of the night influence your decision. “Okay,” you smile gratefully, “I’d appreciate that very much.”

—

Steven guided the way to his car, his presence feeling like steady anchor. The car ride unfolded in silence, punctuated only by the soft tunes of the radio's top hits playing at a low volume. Each bump in the road sent tremors through the small cabbie car, accentuated by the relentless rain hammering against the windows. You felt a sudden jolt as the car hit a rain-filled pothole, splashing dirty street water against the passenger window.

With trembling hands, you power off your phone, the text messages echoing in the back of your mind. Your clammy palms press together, trying to hold onto something solid. As the car gets closer to your neighborhood, your gaze slowly lifts from your lap, uncertainty flickering in your mind.

"Y/N," Steven's voice breaks the silence, causing your heart to slam against your chest like a trapped animal. "This might sound strange, but I want to ask you something."

You nod hesitantly, the taste of blood coating your tongue as you gnaw on the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit of yours.

"Are you sure you want to go back to your apartment alone?" His words hang heavy in the air, abundant with concern. He pauses, using the weight of his gaze to prob you for a response. "I saw some of those messages," he continues upon your silence, his voice gentle but firm. "If you need anything... I mean it, I can help you."

You interject sharply, a defensive edge creeping into your tone. "Please, don't get involved. I'm sorry you saw that, but he's harmless, I swear." Doubt snakes its way down your spine as you utter the words, his past violent outbursts echoing in your brain. The phantom memory of dark bruises left behind from the hard grip of his hands on your skin.

Grabbing, pulling, pushing you.

You fight your facial expression to seem happier, trying to reassure him that everything was alright despite the dread pulling down at your faux smile.

His car rolled to a gradual halt in front of your apartment building as the contents of your stomach threatened to come out of your throat in the form of vomit. You avert your gaze, but you can feel his eyes on you, silently pleading for a change of heart.

"Thank you, Steven," you say quietly, drawing in a sharp breath. "I don't know how I would've managed without you."

You muster a grateful smile, reeling yourself in as you gather your things from the car floor and step out. He breaks the silence by clearing his throat, causing you to pause and lean back into the open door to meet his gaze. Rain hits the clothing on your back.

"I can be there for you whenever," he says earnestly, “Please, don't hesitate to call me if you need me for anything, truly." He extends his hand, offering a taxi business card with his phone number written on it.

—

London Premium Taxi Service

Lockley, Jake

+44 20 1234 5679

—

Your eyebrows knit together at the unfamiliar name on the business card, but with rain still trickling down your clothing, the question fades from your thoughts. "Thank you again, Steven," you murmur, finally closing the cabbie door.

You walk hurriedly out of the rain and into your building, watching the cabbie car drive off as you make it inside. It felt worse to watch your reassurance of safety leaving. With a deep sigh, you enter the arriving elevator and watch as it ascends to your floor. A sense of unease nips at your resolve.

As the doors slide open with a soft hiss, your heart lurches in terror at the sight of him down the hall. A tall man standing outside your apartment door.

Him.

Shock freezes you in place, your breath catching as you lock eyes with your ex-boyfriend. “Oliver?”

“Y/N,” he proclaims breathlessly, his eyes widening with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. As you cautiously step closer, you can see a strange look to his pupils, as if under the influence of some kind of drug.

He speaks again, reaching out toward you. “I’ve missed you so much.”

You instinctively pull your arm away from him, but as quickly as you do, he grabs it again with greater force. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, trying to steady your trembling nerves. “Why are you here?” A crack in your voice gives your weakness away.

"I just said I missed you, babe," he replies, his tone muddied with false concern. "You're all wet. Let's get inside and get you into something warm."

Your mind races, but every idea that comes to you gets jumbled. You never could properly articulate your thoughts around him. Today was no different. This was your fault, you should have hid yourself better.

You summon the last shreds of your resolve. “I don’t need your help, Oliver,” you manage to say, but your tone is not as firm as you wanted it to be. “Please, just leave.”

His lip curl upward as he tightens his grip on your arm. You suck in a breath, watching his as he slowly moves his free hand to your face. A stand your hair gets pushed back by his fingers, gently yet his fingers forcefully press into the skin of your face. “I won’t ask again,” he whispers.

You comply, digging your apartment key out of your work tote and hand it to him, your apology tumbling off your lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say shakily, trying to placate him.

“Good girl,” he says, taking the key from your trembling hands. And with a sense of dread pooling in the pit of your stomach, you watch as he unlocks your door with ease. The sound of the latch and the creak of the opening door echo in your ears. “Let’s go inside, love.”

As his hand releases your arm and slides down your waist to the small of your back, a shiver runs down your spine at the touch. With a guiding push, he leads you inside, the door closing with a soft click behind the two of you.

Oliver strides into the kitchen with an air of familiarity, his movements purposeful as he rummages through the cabinets and refrigerator for food. "Make yourself comfortable, love," he calls out, carrying a hint of authority as he commands the space.

You take a hesitant seat on your couch, the weight of his presence looming over you like a dark cloud. With trembling hands, you slip off your shoes, but in that moment, you think of what to do.

“Thank you, my love,” you force, “I’m going to go to the bathroom first, okay?”

He nods his head silently, gripping a bottle of wine as he pours himself a glass.

Walking into the bathroom, you close the door behind you with a shaky breath. You flick the business card between your fingers nervously as you dial Steven's number. Your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for him to pick up.

A gruff voice comes through the phone. “London’s Premium Taxi Service, how may I help you today?”

"Steven, is that you? It’s me, Y/N," you whisper urgently, the words tumbling from your lips in a frantic rush. "My ex-boyfriend is inside my apartment, he may be high on something, I’m not sure. I don’t want to get the police involved again, what do I do?”

A screech of tires pierces through the phone line. “Where are you in your flat right now? W—what floor is it on?” Steven stammers, his concern noticeable even through the phone.

You hear the unmistakable crash of a dish breaking outside of the bathroom in your kitchen, sending your heart racing in panic. “I live in 3D. I’m in the bathroom right now,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Stay there and keep the door locked, do not come out no matter what, okay? I’ll be right there to go get you,” Steven’s voice serves as a lifeline for a brief moment before the call ends abruptly. Tears begin to spill as you choke back your sobs.

You hear footsteps from outside the bathroom door. “Y/N! Come clean this fucking mess up,” Oliver’s voice permeates through the door, sending you into a quiet spiral as your hand drags over your lips to keep them shut.

“Y/N?”

“Y/N. Fucking answer me, open this door. What the fuck are you doing in there?” A pounding knock hits the door as it rattles against its frame.

“Open the door!” The sound of his shouting muffles in your brain and you slip into a panic attack, air refusing to saturate your lungs. The door shakes with every hard pound and pull of the door knob.

With a final slam, the door comes off its hinges as Oliver forces his way inside the bathroom. Your body trembles with sobs as you beg him for forgiveness, but his heavy hands fall on you anyway.

The force of his backhand sends you tumbling to the floor, the impact echoing through the small confines of the bathroom. In your haze, you’re unable to comprehend the words he shouts at you. The world blurs around you as his blows to your body continue. Your eyes flutter, the world spinning dizzily around you as he beats you with a savage force.

Until it stops. You take several moments to collect yourself, regaining your strength to be able to open your eyes. Two voices echo in the walls of your apartment as the ringing stops and your hearing slowly returns. A loud thud shakes the floorboards, followed by footsteps towards you.

“Y/N?” says a sweet voice, unrecognizable to you. “I should have gotten here faster, I’m so sorry.”

A gentle hand caresses your face as you try to open your eyes. Steven’s worried face comes into view, the coworker you’ve grown a liking to over the past few weeks. His phone is pressed against his ear and he speaks urgently into it.

“Steven?” you whisper, the words barely above a breath. In your daze, perhaps you had been delusional, mistaking his British accent for an unrecognizably coarse American one.

“I’m right here,” he exclaimed softly, caressing your hair. “I’m on the phone, an ambulance is on its way.”

As sirens soon begin to wail in the distance, piercing through the thin walls of the building, you find comfort in Steven’s gentle touches. You know that you’ll be okay.

#moon knight #marc spector #marvel fic #marvel #steven grant #oscar isaac #oscar issac characters #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #fanfiction

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