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athenasbloodyspear · 3 years

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Say Something to Stop Me: Chapter 4

Writing Master List | Say Something to Stop Me Master List

Please note: This fic describes depression, anxiety, panic attacks, past/referenced non con and domestic violence. Please read at your own discretion.

The drive to the dive bar down the road from the compound was short. Well, it was short when Bucky was definitely driving 100 miles an hour.

Your hair whipped in the wind behind you and you could feel the deep rumble of the bike underneath you.

“I didn’t think you’d be this scared.” Bucky yelled over the sound of the engine and the wind. “C’mon Doll. Open your eyes.”

You peeled your face away from his shoulder blades and opened your eyes. If you were being honest with yourself, you hadn’t kept your face buried in his back because you were scared. He just smelled so goddamn good. Like leather and spice. Clean. It had felt nice, to just feel the wind and him.

Now that your eyes were open however, you realized how gorgeous the tree lined road looked right now. It was just at the beginning of fall and the leaves had started to change into brilliant reds, oranges and yellows.

“Wow…” you muttered. The wind tore the words away as you breathed in the crisp air and looked all around you. “It’s gorgeous.”

You looked forward again and caught Bucky glancing at you over his shoulder. “Yeah. It is.” He murmured back. Just loud enough to be heard over the engine and the wind.

Bucky shifted the engine down as you approached the little dive bar that was tucked back in the woods. You hadn’t been here in over two years, but it was still exactly as you remembered it. Dilapidated old sign out front, mostly motorcycles and old pick-up trucks in the parking lot. There were a few groups of men standing outside smoking cigarettes.

Bucky pulled into the dirt lot and found a spot to park his bike. You stepped off, surprised at how your legs felt slightly like jelly after being wrapped around that rumbling machine for a while.

The men smoking outside the bar all seemed to be looking your way. Some discreetly, some openly staring at the two of you. Did they recognize you? You supposed two Avengers at the bar down the street from the compound were probably pretty recognizable. You resisted the urge to run your fingers through your hair self consciously. Who cares what these random men thought of your tousled hair, right?

Bucky stepped off the bike and threw his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. “Alright little lady, lets get some grub.”

He steered you straight through the crowd of smoke and men and opened the front door for you.

“Thanks” you mumbled and stepped into the dim light of the bar.

It smelled like stale cigarettes and old beer. There were pool tables to your right, and some low tables to your left with booths lining the left wall. Straight in front of you was a long wooden bar with two incredible beefy and tattooed men as bartenders. A jukebox near the back wall was playing old 70’s music. You loved it instantly. You took a deep breath in through your nose, relishing in the old school grunge of it all.

You walked toward a booth in the corner of the bar that had a good view of the door. You knew it was unlikely that anyone would try to attack the both of you at a bar down the road from your own compound, but you had a hard time feeling comfortable in public spaces unless you could see all the entrances and exits. You knew Bucky would feel the same.

You slid into the booth and grabbed one of the dirty menus that was tucked between the ketchup and mustard bottles on the table. Bucky slid into his seat across from you and pulled off his jacket. It was a damn shame that you couldn’t see his shirt rise up again from this angle.

“I’m going to order probably three burgers.” Bucky said “I’m starved after that giant beat the crap out of me this morning.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, he was so busy telling me about which members of the court had been keeping secret love affairs this afternoon I never got lunch.”

Bucky laughed “That’s right! How did face masks with the demi-god go this afternoon?”

“It was great.” You smiled. “I missed him.” You looked up from the menu and saw that Bucky was staring at you with a soft, almost melancholy smile on his face. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just nice to see you smile like that again. I’m a little jealous that the giant brute is the one who made you smile, but I’d let him beat the shit out of me every day if that’s what it took to see you light up again.” Bucky said this so casually, grabbing a menu to look at it, but your heart skipped several beats.

Bucky? Jealous? Of Thor??

“I mean, I wouldn’t complain if I had to watch the two of you go at it everyday.” You really wouldn’t. Seeing Bucky fight did have a strange effect on you. He was always so confident in his movements, never second guessing a punch or a dodge. Plus there was the bonus of seeing him all sweaty and panting. It really did something to you, not that you’d admit it out loud.

“Yeah. I bet you wouldn’t.” Bucky looked at you over the top of his menu and winked.

Again, what was it with every fucking room you were in together and it getting about 20 degrees warmer when he looked at you?

You forced your eyes back down the menu. You decided you’d get a burger too, and a side of fries, and maybe a beer. You plopped the menu down and looked around the bar. You took your jacket off as well. Your body temperature had risen and the last thing you wanted was to start noticeably sweating right now.

Bucky plopped his menu down too and folded his hands on the table top. You kept looking around the bar. You were still warm from his admission and couldn’t muster up the strength to look him in the eye.

“I missed you.” Bucky says suddenly. You whip your head toward him.

“You did?”

“Of course I did, you brat. I told you before. I had a lot of fun in Budapest. Going to those bars and sitting along the river. It had been a while since I had just enjoyed being somewhere without looking over my shoulder.” You flushed again. How could he sit there so calmly and say something like that to you? Did he know how hard your heart was beating in your chest? “Then I didn’t hear from you for a while. It freaked me out, you know? I started to wonder if I had imagined that whole trip.”

“Oh fuck, Bucky. No it was great. I had a really great time too. I’m sorry. When I got back things kinda… well shit hit the fan I guess…”

You got cut off by one of the large tattooed bartenders approaching your table. You turned to look at him, but Bucky’s eyes stayed on you.

“What can I get ya?” The bartender grunted.

“Um hey. Yeah. Can I get a double cheeseburger, a large order of fries and whatever lager you guys have on tap?”

The bartender just grunted again, scribbling on a tiny notepad. “And you?”

“Can I get three bacon cheeseburgers, a large order of onion rings and a jack and coke?” Bucky still hadn’t taken his eyes off you while he ordered. You were looking at the table, having a hard time looking him in the eye, but you could see him staring at you out of your peripheral vision.

The bartender grunted again as he walked away, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that Bucky had just ordered three whole cheeseburgers to himself. Maybe Bucky came here a lot and he was used to it? Your chest pinched a bit at the thought that you didn’t know if Bucky came here a lot or not.

“So, shit hit the fan?” Bucky prompted. You looked back up at him.

“Uh. Yeah. I came home to kind of a rough situation. I uh… didn’t handle it well. Then I was just sort of embarrassed and didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. I think I created a negative feedback loop for myself. The more I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, the more I pushed myself away from you all and then I felt even less comfortable trying to talk to anyone.”

“I get it.” Bucky said. Finally pulling his eyes from you to glance around the bar. “I wasn’t exactly great at talking about things when I first got here either, you know.”

You tilted your head a bit as you stared at his profile. The soft colored light coming from the many neon beer signs hung above the bar cast shadows across his jaw and cheekbones. He looked like a greek god, or something out of an old movie from the 70’s. Maybe both.

You really thought about it then. Bucky was right. He had been pretty quiet and reserved when he had first gotten here, almost like he didn’t trust himself to speak in front of others. When he’d come back from Wakanda he had been a little more peaceful and talkative, but it had taken a few months for him to really open up.

When you two had been in Budapest was when you finally got to know more about him on a deeper level than before. It had been the first time that you had been on an extended mission just the two of you. A month, sharing a little safe house in a busy neighborhood of Budapest, tracking a few operatives for Tony. It was a little overkill to have you both there, but Steve had insisted it would be safer for both of you to be there since they didn’t have anywhere else to send people at the moment.

For a month you two had spent your afternoons tailing people around the city and your evenings sipping unicum while sitting at cafes along the river. You had talked about nearly everything under the sun. He had told you about his time in Wakanda, tending goats and reading every novel he could get his hands on. You had laughed at the thought of Bucky taking care of goats everyday, but he had said it was nice to get away from the world and just focus on taking care of something else for a change.

You had told him about how you started at SHIELD as a low level agent and filled in the holes of what he knew about your promotions and being added to the team. You’d commiserated about how painful the serum transition was, and how much you both loved that stubborn stick-in-the-mud Steve. He’d told you about when they were kids growing up in Brooklyn, about him being drafted for the war. He’d never enlisted because he didn’t want Steve to be left behind, but he was drafted anyway. (Steve still had no idea he hadn’t made the choice himself.) He told you about the adventures of the Howling Commandos and he even spoke a bit about his time with Hydra.

“I know, Buck.” You sighed, dropping your eyes to look at your hands. You started picking at your cuticles to keep your hands from shaking. You felt a small twinge in your stomach. Bucky had been so open with you in Budapest. Something he rarely was with anyone, and you hadn’t been in return.

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” Bucky murmured. You glanced back up at him. He was looking at you again. He didn’t have an ounce of judgement in his eyes. He was just there, allowing you space to be honest with him. Your heart clenched in your chest.

“He didn’t want anything to do with the Avengers.” You sighed finally. Your blood was rushing in your ears, it felt like a panic attack was coming on but you had a deep desire to finally say this to him. He had been so patient and honest with you, it was time to return it. “He hated you. All of you. So much. When I had first been moved to work more directly with the team was the first time that we got into a fight. Like a real fight.”

Bucky shifted a bit in his seat across from you, but stayed silent.

You continued. “He was always angry with me whenever I brought you guys up. Always saying things about how you were all superhuman and didn’t know how to be normal people. That you were all just meatheads with hero complexes. Whenever we would argue and I would happen to slip up and mention one of you he would lose his mind. Just screaming at me to stop comparing him to you ‘freaks.’” You took a deep breath. “So I just started to hide shit from him. When I kept getting promoted, I just told him it was in a different department, that I wasn’t working with the Avengers anymore. He never really asked about work anyway so it wasn’t that hard to keep it a secret.”

You glanced up at Bucky then. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, he was staring out across the bar with his jaw tightly clenched. His hands were fisted where they rested on the table.

“How long were you together?” Bucky asked through clenched teeth.

“My whole adult life.” He looked at you again, the smallest amount of surprise on his face. “We met in highschool. We were just friends until I went to college. He had just showed up at my dorm one day at Harvard and told me that he couldn’t stand the thought of me being with anyone else. We had been dating ever since. Right before I joined the Avengers as a full fledged team member he proposed and we moved in together.”

Bucky hummed in response to that information, tearing his eyes from you to look back over the bar. “So, why didn’t anyone know this?”

“Tony knew.” You responded. “Well… he knew enough. That I was with someone who wanted to be kept away from the world of SHIELD. I didn’t really tell anyone else because I knew if he found out that I talked about him to any of you he would lose his mind. It just kinda… got away from me I guess. One little secret or half truth just kept piling together until it felt like I was living a double life.”

It was silent for a moment. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but you were still breathing. That was a good sign. “I’m really sorry Bucky. I never meant to hurt you or keep anything from you--”

“Stop.” Bucky cut you off, looking you directly in the eye again. It felt like he was looking at the very core of your being. “Never ever apologize to me for that. It wasn’t your fault. You were just trying to protect yourself.”

“Bucky… I--” you started, but you were cut off by the bartender returning with a tray loaded with food. He dropped all your food and drinks at the center of the table with a grunt and walked away.

Bucky reached across the table to squeeze your hand once. “Thank you for telling me.” He grabbed his first burger and dug in. You smiled at him across the table. Your heart squeezed again in your chest. He always knew exactly how to make you feel safe, how far he could push you without hurting you. It was amazing how light and warm you felt around him.

He looked up from his burger and mumbled “What?” through a mouthful of food. You dropped your head back and laughed. A real, warm laugh that bubbled up through your chest. You looked at him again and saw him break into a wide grin, his whole face lit up as his eyes scanned your face.

“Nothing, Buck. I’m just really happy I’m here.” You said as you picked up your burger to finally take a bite.

He swallowed and looked at you for a long moment before saying “I’m really happy you’re here too.”

~0~

You woke up the next morning feeling more refreshed than you had in a really long time. You stretched and smiled up at the ceiling, thinking over the night before.

You and Bucky had spent the rest of your meal chatting and laughing and enjoying each other's company. Bucky filled you in on some missions that had happened while you were away and told you about all the different books he’d read lately. You gave him a highlight reel of Asgardian court drama. He had the most intoxicating laugh. When you really got him going, his nose scrunched up a bit while he giggled and it made your heart flip in your chest.

Suddenly, Friday’s lilt broke through the fog of your daydreaming about Bucky’s smile above you, his chain dangling down from his chest…

“Tony is on his way to your room to discuss something. I thought you may want to get dressed before he arrives. You have approximately 3 minutes before he steps off the elevator on this floor.”

You groaned and shoved your face into your pillow. Both at the direction your thoughts had involuntarily turned, and Friday’s interruption of a wonderful daydream. “Thank you.”

You quickly rushed to your closet to throw on some sweats. You had just stepped back into your room when there was a knock on your door. “It’s open!” You called.

Tony swung open the door and leaned against the door frame “Morning kid.”

“Morning Dad. ” You chuckled, walking over to stand in front of Tony, crossing your arms over your chest. “To what do I owe this early morning honor?”

“First of all, I am not nearly old enough to be your father. Second, you up for a mission? We got a big one. Gonna need a whole team.”

You nearly jumped up and down with joy. Hell yeah you wanted to go on a mission. “First, you may not be old enough, but you and Steve definitely act like my fathers. And second, I thought you’d never ask.”

“Hey” Tony pointed at you. “Captain Righteous is nearly a hundred. He’s at least old enough to be your dad.” You cackled. “Alright suit up and meet us in the conference room. We’re gonna go over the plan and send you all on your way.”

“Right on. Who’s all on board?”

“Flappy bird, megatron, the queen of hearts, Mr. Righteous himself and Archie.”

You laughed out loud again. “Jesus Tony you’re snappy this morning. And you dragged Clint away from home? This must be a big job.”

“I just needed a sharpshooter on the outside to help Sam. It’s a tall building so cover up in the air is gonna be important.” He turned and sauntered back toward the elevator “You got eight minutes to be downstairs kiddo.”

“Aye aye Captain.” You called, turning to rush back to your closet to suit up. You heard Tony yell “I resent that title!” from the hall.

~0~

You hauled ass back down to the conference room, strapping knives to your thighs and guns to your hips as you went. You were in your signature tight kevlar black suit, with a cross body harness around your back with an M429 strapped across your back. You had a glock on both hips and a huge stash of ammo strapped across your chest.

It felt… amazing. It had been so long since you had suited up for real. You felt powerful. No one could touch you when you were dressed like this.

You stepped into the conference room. Just as Tony said, Sam, Bucky, Nat, Cap and Clint were already there, armed to the teeth and ready to rumble.

Clint called out when you stepped in the room “Hey! Long time no see superstar!”

You giggled. “Hey Clint.” You glanced around the room again. Bucky, in his usual mission armor of a thick kevlar jacket and combat pants, was sitting all the way across the room. Combat boots propped up on the conference table, leaning back in his chair.

He didn’t seem to be aware of the way that his eyes were scanning up and down your body, his tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his bottom lip before his eyes caught yours. He flinched slightly, like he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. You smirked at him and saluted before plopping down in the chair at the end of the conference table, adjusting the gun strapped to your back slightly so you could lean back in your chair.

Someone had to be turning up the heat in the compound. Why were you always so fucking hot?

“Alright assholes, here’s the plan. There’s a rumor that there’s some Hydra intel being passed around by a group of high class drug dealers in Croatia.” Tony started off. “And I need you to infiltrate their building and get it.”

“Drug dealers, Tony? You’re sending all of us after some dudes slinging cocaine?” Clint piped up from his spot to Tony’s left. “I am not missing my kids T-ball game for this.”

“Due to how loaded these dudes are, I don’t think cocaine is all they trade Clint. Plus, the building we need you to get in is a skyscraper that’s about 40 stories high and I need you in an adjacent building for cover.”

Tony then proceeded to cover the plan. Sam and Clint would offer cover from the air and nearby buildings. You and Bucky would be a battering team on the inside, clearing a path for Natasha and Steve to get to the main computer mainframe on the top floor. Then, you all would repel down the side of the skyscraper to a nearby helipad where the quinjet would be waiting for you. It was a relatively simple extraction, but Tony had a premonition that the place would be heavily guarded and well equipped.

“Get in, and get out. I’m not overly concerned with the status of any of the dudes in there. Kill if you have to, but don’t worry about bringing every one of them down. I’m more interested in whatever they have on their mainframe that’s making them guard it so heavily. Okay?” Tony finished.

Everyone nodded their affirmatives.

“See you tonight.” Tony remarked as he stepped out of the room.

“Alright everyone, grab whatever else you need. Meet on the jet in five.” Cap said, standing to walk towards the jet to prep for take off.

You all stood and began walking out the back doors to the landing pad where the jet was currently parked, all fueled and ready for your mission. No doubt stocked with any weapons that any of you may need as well as the equipment needed to repel down the side of the building after you’d gotten the information.

Bucky sauntered up next to you as you walked toward the jet and bumped your hip with his. “Nervous?”

You looked at him, feigning outrage. “Are you implying I can’t do my job Barnes?”

He laughed. “No. I think you’re one of the best of us. I’m just saying it’s been, what, a year? Since you’ve put on this tight little suit and shot some people.”

You blushed. “Kicking ass is kinda like riding a bike Bucky. You can’t ever really forget how to do it once you’ve mastered it.”

He let out a humourless chuckle. “Don’t I know it, Doll. Don’t I know it.”

You bumped your hip against his again. “C’mon Barnes. Let’s show these punks how it’s done.”

He looked at you again, a real smile on his face. “Welcome back, Y/N. It’s been a while.”

You just rolled your eyes and walked up the ramp to the jet, plopping into a seat and strapping yourself in.

~0~

After the approximately five hour jet ride to Croatia, you all got out of your seats and stretched a bit. No one chatted much in the flight over there. You all typically took the time to breathe and prepare for the mission, going over schematics and floor plans in your head.

Steve handed Bucky, Nat and you a harness for repelling before pulling one on himself. You stepped into yours pulling the straps up and around your hips, clipping it in front. You began to try to tighten the straps around your thighs when a hand brushed your lower back. Bucky leaned in, his breath ghosting across the back of your neck.

“Here. Let me help.” He reached around your back to grab the strap on your right thigh, his left hand went to the small of your waist to steady you while he tugged roughly, tightening the harness so it was snug on your right hip, then he switched his hand position to tighten the other side. You felt your whole body flush and your abdomen filled with fire. His hands rested on either hip from behind you. “That feel good?” He murmured.

“Yeah. Perfect.” You breathed out. You flushed instantly at how breathless you sounded. Bucky patted your hips twice before turning to grab a few more weapons to strap to yourself. You took a deep breath to try to steady your racing heart, and lifted your eyes. You caught Nat staring at you.

She shook her head softly and gave you a smirk that said “I saw that.” It was almost painful how much you wanted to cover your face with your hands. You had to get your head on straight. You were about to charge into a building where people wanted to kill you. You couldn’t be thinking about how warm Bucky’s hands had felt on your hips, how his chin had lightly brushed the shell of your ear, or the pulsing heat low in your abdomen.

Focus.

“Alright, turn your coms on. Everyone ready?” Cap called from the back of the jet.

You all grunted your affirmatives. You started bouncing on the balls of your feet to warm up your muscles, shaking out your hands.

“Okay. Sam and Clint, you all head out first. We won’t start in until we hear affirmatives that you’re in position.” Cap said. He threw a backpack at Bucky. “Here’s your repelling gear. We’re going in pairs. There’s a clip in there that will strap you to Y/N.”

You looked at Bucky. He just looked back at you with an arrogant smirk and strapped the backpack to his back.

~0~

After Clint and Sam had gotten into position, you and Bucky were up. You both walked down the ramp of the quinjet. Once Nat and Cap exited the jet, it would go into stealth mode and autopilot up to the helipad that you would meet it on, staying hidden from any onlookers.

You and Bucky started your route to the main floor of the building. You’d bust in the back door and clear the main floor of any hostiles, before heading up the east stairwell, keeping it clear so that Steve and Nat could head up behind you to the room with the mainframe.

You both snuck up to the back door, luckily thus far you hadn’t run into anyone. Bucky flipped around so his back was to the wall next to the door. He motioned for you to stand right behind him. He looked at you over his shoulder and whispered “Ready?”

You winked and whispered back “Always.” He grinned and turned back to the door, firing twice at each hinge before rearing back and kicking it in.

Phew. He is so damn good at this.

He pushed in through the door, his gun at the ready and scanned the room. You followed in behind him, your backs together to make sure no one heard his shots and followed in behind you.

“There’s easily eight on this floor. If not more.” He whispered over his shoulder. “You ready?”

“What did I say, Barnes? I’m always ready.”

He chuckled softly. “Alrighty then, sweetheart. Let’s kick some ass.”

You felt his back shift away from yours, you spun ducking behind a half wall and aimed around a corner. As soon as you heard his gun unload, you started picking off hostiles one by one. When you had fired at everyone in your line of sight you popped up to follow the path that Bucky had gunned down in front of you.

You stepped around a corner to get a better look at the open area of the main entrance. Suddenly two arms wrapped around you from behind. One coming to cover your mouth. You grunted and swung an elbow back into the gut of the man who had grabbed you, causing him to falter in his grip. You swung your head back to smash into his nose. You heard a nasty crunch and a scream come from your assailant. Your adrenaline was pounding. You felt so fucking strong.

You whipped around, swinging your M249 back across your back. You swung your left foot out to take out his knees. He collapsed in front of you. You brought your gun back around you and smashed the hilt against the back of his head to make sure he stayed down.

You sensed another assailant to your left and instinctively ducked as he fired directly at your head. You swung around and launched yourself at him, wrapping both legs around his neck and then letting your body fall heavily toward the ground, dragging him to the ground and flipping him at the last second so his body swung hard against the ground. You ripped a glock out of your thigh holster and fired twice into his chest. Breathing hard you looked up to scan your surroundings.

It was just Bucky, standing between two dead operatives, grinning at you. “How do you feel, princess?”

You smiled back at him, panting a bit. “I feel fucking amazing.”

He smirked at you. “That’s my girl.”

You blushed. The fire returned to your abdomen.

Dear fucking god.

“Nat, Cap, we’re clear. We’re going to start our trek up the stairs.” Bucky said into his ear piece. Then he smiled at you again. “Let’s go rockstar.”

You trailed him again, backs together as you moved instinctually against him toward the stairs. It felt so natural to be here. Back softly pressed against Bucky’s, huge gun in your hands, firing on anyone who entered the stairwell below you. Feeling Bucky’s back flex as he fired, and lunged and tossed hostiles over the railing of the spiraling stairwell.

It was like magic when you worked together.

You finally made it to the top level and Bucky kicked the door into a few men who had been blocking the other side. You both whipped through the door. You fired a few shots at a couple of operatives, then slammed the hilt of your gun into the throat of a man who had gotten a little too close for comfort before grabbing him by the front of his jacket and slamming a fist into his nose, knocking him unconscious.

You spun and caught the tail end of Bucky kicking a man in the middle of his chest, hurtling him back into the stairwell and down a flight of stairs before his head cracked against the concrete wall.

“You’re relatively clear.” Bucky called into the coms. “We’re gonna scope out this floor, but you should be good to come up.”

“On our way.” Nat said through the line.

Bucky looked at you and silently motioned for you to follow him through the hallway. You nodded and stepped over the body in front of you, taking up your position at his flank.

You snuck through the halls, peeking in doors and down hallways, but found no one.

“It’s a little too quiet up here.” Bucky whispered. You hummed in agreement.

“We’re in.” Cap whispered through the coms. “I’m gonna stand guard on Nat. You two find a good spot to repel.”

“On it.” You said to Cap.

Bucky spun around and you headed back in the direction of the computer database. You rounded the corner and stepped into a large L-shaped open concept office space with floor to ceiling windows on the back wall that looked out onto the building with the helipad. You couldn’t see the quinjet, but you knew that meant that the camouflage was still in place.

You both silently crept across the open room. There was something about the room that made your stomach turn. It was too open. Too quiet. “Bucky…” you whispered.

Suddenly he snagged you around the waist and hauled you to the ground, just as a few bullets ricocheted off the wall of filing cabinets behind you. Right where your head had been.

You were flat on your back, chests melded together. He was scanning the room in the direction of where the bullets had come from. “Stay down” He whispered before rolling off of you and crawling in the direction of the perpetrator.

You picked your head up and flipped over to your stomach, army crawling in the other direction. You had to be sure it wasn’t just a diversion, that there weren’t other men with guns on the other side of the room waiting for Bucky to get distracted.

You sat with your back against the wall of filing cabinets, catching your breath and listening for any movement. Bucky was out of your line of sight, he had to be crouched between filing cabinets, stalking his prey.

You suddenly heard a very small creak, coming from somewhere between the desks behind this wall of cabinets. You took a deep breath, grabbed both glocks from your hips, and whipped around the corner.

You saw two shadows move to your left and you let a smattering of bullets fly in that direction. Two bodies went down somewhere to your left and you spun to your right just in time to duck as a fist swung for your jaw. You bull rushed the guy, wrapping your arms around his waist and slamming your body weight into his gut, tackling him to the ground. Behind you, you could hear shots being fired across the room.

You sat up, straddling him, and with your gun still in your fist, punched him once square in the nose. He spat blood up into your face and choked out “Bitch.” You just smirked and slammed your fist against his skull again, this time knocking him out cold.

“Asshole.” You said down to his unconscious form. You hopped up, both glocks held out in front of you, but you had managed to down every agent on your side of the room. You spun, heading back in the direction that you heard Bucky’s voice alongside an unfamiliar one.

“Put your gun down. Let’s make this interesting, shall we?” The unfamiliar voice crooned.

“My pleasure.” That was Bucky. You heard the thud of what you assumed was his gun being dropped on the floor.

Are you fucking kidding me?

You began weaving through desks toward where you heard the voices, coming from around the corner of the large office space. You could hear grunts and the sounds of fists meeting flesh. When you rounded the corner you saw the unknown man had Bucky in a headlock, cutting off Bucky’s oxygen.

“Fuck me.” You groaned. Both of their heads whipped up to look at you at the same time. Bucky was pretty red in the face.

Without hesitating you lifted your glock and put a hole in the strange man's forehead. It was a pretty close shot, but you were a good aim and you weren’t overly concerned about hitting Buck in the process.

The man dropped to the floor and Bucky fell to his hands and knees, sucking in deep breaths. You stomped over to him, stopping a few inches from where he crouched, and put your hands on your hips to stare down at him.

“Thanks sweet-” Bucky had started to choke out.

“What the actual fuck was that James Buchanan Barnes.” You spit down at him. You were boiling with anger. How dare he? How dare he fucking try to have some macho fight and nearly get himself killed. You almost wanted to kill him yourself, just to prove a fucking point. You were seething.

He just coughed out a laugh and looked up at you with a big grin on his face. “You’re kinda cute when you’re angry.”

You spun on your heel and walked toward the wall of windows behind him. “And you’re kind of an idiot when you’re high on adrenaline James.”

He chuckled again, hauling himself to his feet. He snagged his gun and strapped it over his shoulder. He walked up next to you and punched his metal arm through the drywall of the wall next to the windows. You flinched and looked at him.

What the hell?

“Gotta find a beam to strap ourselves to, Doll.” He smirked at you. He ripped a piece of drywall out with his fist, revealing a big metal I-beam. “We’re set in the office space at the end of the hall whenever you two get your shit together.” He panted into the com.

Nat’s amused voice answered “We’re on our way, but it sounds like you’re the one who needs to get your shit together Barnes.”

You punched Bucky in the shoulder. “Don’t ever do that again you idiot.”

“I knew you’d get him.” Bucky responded, pulling the repelling cable out of the bag on his back and wrapping an end around the I-beam, securing it together.

“That was a pretty close shot Buck.”

“Like I said” he panted, as he clipped a hook to the cable, and then to the harness around his waist. “I knew you’d get him.” He turned to you with a big stupid grin on his face. “You know…” He started, stepping into you “I normally hate when people use my full name, but when it’s coming from your lips I kinda love it.” You were nearly chest to chest now. He flicked your nose.

“Fuck you, James.” You spit. He just chuckled and bit his lower lip. He extended the hook from the middle of his torso to clip into the harness in the middle of yours. There was now only about an inch of space between the two of you. You were sharing every breath.

Behind you, you could hear footsteps as Nat and Steve came running into the room. They made a beeline for your position, Steve ripped their cable from his backpack and began securing it around the I-beam and strapping himself to Nat.

Bucky started to walk backwards toward the giant window behind him. Nat fired her glock a few times at the glass above your heads, causing the glass to shatter and fall away leaving a big opening for you to repel out of. You closed your eyes as glass fell around you.

Bucky wrapped his right arm around your waist and you felt his metal arm pull slightly on the cable, checking for tension. You opened your eyes and found his blue eyes piercing into yours.

“Ready sweetheart?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes. “What have I been saying all day James? I’m alw--”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence because Bucky stepped backward off the edge of the building without taking his eyes off yours.

~0~

You free fell for a few heart beats before Bucky pushed his feet against the wall to slow your descent. As you repelled, you could hear the soft whistling of Clint’s arrows through the air and the shattering of windows around you as he picked off anyone who tried to stop your momentum.

When you reached the level of the building you were supposed to drop onto Bucky tightened his grip around the cable, slowing your momentum. You flinched a bit at the sound of metal scraping metal as the cable slid along his palm.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” You asked.

He shrugged. “A little, I can only kinda feel it. It definitely doesn’t hurt as bad as I’m sure Cap’s hand does right now, even with a kevlar glove.”

So that’s why they had wanted you to repel in pairs. So you and Nat wouldn’t have to get cable burns on your hands. Those two ancient men. Couldn’t get over their chivalry from the 40’s. You rolled your eyes.

“Sam, a little boost please.” Bucky called into the coms.

“Oh c’mon super soldier.” Sam crooned back. “Can’t swing over yourself? You’re looking pretty bad in front of the ladies.”

You giggled. “If you think this is a bad look, you should have seen the dumbass in a head lock up there on the top floor.” Bucky glared at you.

Sam just laughed. “I want to be clear, I’m only coming to help you because you’re strapped to that gorgeous woman with a wicked mouth. Otherwise you’d be on your own Tin Man.”

Sam swung around the building and snagged Bucky by the backpack, flapping his wings and yanking you both backwards so you were hovering over the edge of the building. Bucky quickly unhooked your waists from the cable. When Sam felt your weight drop, he let go of Bucky’s bag and flew back over to bring Nat and Steve over the edge as well.

You dropped straight down to the roof of the building. Bucky took the brunt of the impact, rolling when his back hit the concrete. You laid on your sides on the roof, panting together for a moment before he reached between you and unclasped the hook that connected you. You rolled over to your back, still catching your breath from the impact of hitting the roof.

Bucky turned his head to look at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You panted. Chest heaving up and down as you sucked in oxygen. “I feel fucking incredible.” You turned your head to look at him. He smiled at you.

“You look fucking incredible.” He said. Like it just slipped out before he could stop it. You blushed, your whole body going warm and gooey.

Before either of you could say anything else, you heard two matching grunts as Nat and Steve hit the roof and the mechanical sounds of Sam landing a little ways away. You both rolled to stand up.

Clint scaled down the side of a large water tank structure and started walking toward the jet. “Took you long enough.” He called.

“I blame this one on Barnes.” Nat called. “He was trying a little too hard to show off.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah Buck, it sounds like you got your ass handed to you up there. Little distracted buddy?”

Bucky muttered “Fuck you” under his breath as you all climbed back on the ship. You spun around to walk backward up the ramp so you could cock an eyebrow at Bucky, giving him a little smirk.

He just dropped his head to look at his feet as he stomped up the ramp. “Keep walkin, dollface.”

You cackled, and spun around to walk the rest of the way up the ramp. Dropping into a seat and strapping yourself in for the long flight home.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fic #bucky

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themuseic · 4 years

Text

Only Fools (Chapter 1)

Fic Summary: Sent to Boone County, West Virginia on an assignment, you find yourself engulfed your work. How could you possibly find time for anything else? Even if “anything else” includes the tall, kind, and handsome bartender from down the road?

Word Count: 2.2k

Read here on AO3.

Warnings: Use of alcohol.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone!! I started a fic! It’s the first fic I’ve written, so please, I would love any and all feedback. I want to grow and constantly get better, so if you have any advice, I will be more than willing to listen! But I really want to give a huge shout out to @mind-p0llution, who not only encouraged me to write and beta read this for me, but has been nothing but supportive and kind to me! I hope y’all enjoy.

Ten hours on the road today, and you had finally, finally, reached your destination. A small town in Boone County. You hadn’t seen another car in miles, and the lights of Route 64 had long since faded behind the horizon. A yawn overtook you, and you tilted your head to one side, and back, a satisfying crack sounding as you relieved the pressure in your tense neck. Straight to the hotel then, you thought, ready for a shower and a comfortable bed to sleep in. As much as you loved a long road trip coupled with the beautiful vistas of rural America, you could only listen to so many podcasts, playlists, and radio stations.

You turned off of the road, following the directions of the robotic voice to your hotel, when something caught your eye. A wood paneled building sat on the side of the road boasting a red and green fluorescent sign that read “The Duck Tape Bar and Grill”. It wasn’t an overly impressive building, but the amount of cars parked outside suggested otherwise. Vehicles spilled out of the asphalt parking lot and onto the shoulder of the road. Some were even parked half into the drainage canal and half onto the street in order to secure their spot. It seemed as if every person in a 50 mile radius had found themselves at this one bar all on the same night.

You bit your lip in consideration. The bed at the hotel still called you, but that voice seemed to diminish to a whisper as the prospect of a nightcap looked better and better. What’s one drink? you thought to yourself, as you pulled over and threw the car into park. Grabbing your wallet and a stick of gum to suppress the stale road breath on your tongue, you hopped out of the car and strode towards the building.

~~~

The tinkling of a bell and a gust frigid air followed you into the bar as you slipped through the door, spinning to push it closed behind you. You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the warm lights that lined the space. It was a welcome change from the harsh headlights that you had found yourself driving into on the highway, and you were happy for it. The air was filled with happy, lilting voices and soft music that made you feel at home almost immediately and the sounds of glasses clinking and… the strongest smell of apples? You inhaled deeply, warmed to the bone by the spiciness of the scent, and tilted your face slightly to take it in. Like a dog to a bone, you scurried to the bar, hoping to snag a glass of whatever it was you were smelling.

You settled onto a high backed barstool and leaned forward, chin perched on your palm. It most definitely was a busy night, but the one bartender in the place looked like he was handling himself just fine. You looked down the bar, taking in the face of every patron as they chatted away. Entranced by the mirth that each exuded, you didn’t realize the bartender had noticed a new face at the bar until he was standing right in front of you.

“Hey darlin’, what can I get ya?”

Your head snapped forward at the deep rumble and you locked eyes with the man. He was, in a few words, breathtaking. He had bright hazel eyes framed by long dark hair, and the kindest gaze you had seen this side of the Mississippi. He was freckled and scruffy and just about the largest man you had ever laid eyes on. He entranced you, and you found your eyes gently tracing his every feature.

“Uh, darlin’?” he cautiously asked again, as if he was trying not to scare you, and you snapped from your reverie. “Oh, god, sorry. I guess I’m a little tired from my drive,” you laughed.

“S’no problem ma’am,” he smiled shyly, “You lookin’ for something to drink?”

“Yeah you know, I think I am. I can’t help but smell those apples, what is that?” you asked, and his face lit up immediately. “That’s my mama’s cider, I’ve got a batch goin’. Wanna try it?” he offered. He was already reaching to grab a mug before you nodded, which you did eagerly. He smiled again - oh, did that look good on him - and he turned to ladle some of the steaming liquid into the mug. The nameless man handed it back to you, your fingers brushing softly as the mug changed possession. You felt your cheeks warm as they did, a reaction to the light touch and your embarrassment that you were so flustered by this man. At least, you assured yourself, anyone in your position would be too. How could you not be?

“Thank you…” you started to inquire, and he eagerly interjected, “Clyde! M’names Clyde ma’am,” as he reached his arm towards you in his haste, fingers splayed. You giggled as you offered up your own, your eyes softening. “Well Clyde,” you sipped the warm liquid, ”you and your mama have a really good recipe for cider.” He beamed back at you, his cheeks reddening and his eyes crinkling as his dimples pushed . “Thanks darlin’, I try to do the recipe justice. Threw some V.S.O.P. in tonight instead of the regular brandy.”

“Oh?” you asked. “Special occasion, or just wanting to spice up your Saturday night?”

He huffed the lightest laugh in response. “T’be honest, I ran out of the normal stuff. I don’t think it’s tastin’ quite right.” His eyes fell to the mug in your hand, and he nodded at it. “Well darlin, let me know if you need anything else tonight. I’ll be around.”

He turned away over his right shoulder as he moved to the next patron seated at the bar, and a glint of metal caught your eye. You saw how he kept that arm, the one with the robotic attachment, mostly below the top of the bar. He didn’t even use it to emphasize his words, though he didn’t seem to offer up too many to begin with. There was a quiet beauty to him, and you were entranced by it. But, you reminded yourself, this was a small bar, in a small town. There was no reason for you to try anything. He was probably involved with someone, or you assumed at least, because anyone that looked like that should already be committed to another. Anyway, once you finished up your job in Boone County, who knew where you’d be headed to next? No, better to keep your head down, your connections loose, and your job short. You exhaled softly, sipped your cider, and struck up a conversation with your neighbor as the comforting warmth spread through you.

~~~~

“No way, a puma in town? We haven’t had too much news since… well you know,” Mellie wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Clyde huffed a laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah, Earl was just tellin’ me that Brett lost another cow down the road. Looked like it was attacked by somethin’,” Clyde drawled, swirling the dark amber liquid in his glass.

“That so?” Mellie cocked her eyebrow. “Haven’t heard of anything like that happening round here before.” Seated next to her, Joe pulled Mellie flush to his body, tickling her side and making her burst out in giggles. “Seems like we gotta keep our ladies safe then!” he hollered, prompting an eye roll from Mellie, Clyde, and even Jimmy and Sylvia over in the next stools. Clyde leaned back against the bar, glancing over at you, the new girl in the bar tonight. You were making polite conversation with the person next to you, and he found it impossible to tear his eyes away.

“Clyde,” Jimmy hissed from his stool a few people down, “get yer ass over here.” Clyde sighed, set his glass down, and walked over to Jimmy. “Need another beer?” he asked, reaching towards Jimmy’s bottle.

“Nah I’m good, thanks though. But boy, I have seen you lookin’ at that girl all night. What are you gonna do about it?” Jimmy stared him down. It was never easy to escape the laser gaze of his older brother, and Clyde shifted uncomfortably. “Now, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he tried to deflect, suddenly very interested in the hem of his shirt.

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed at this. “Clyde, you ain’t gettin’ out of this that easy. Listen, I know it hasn’t been easy for you since your last girl, but look. If my eyes are right, she’s been lookin’ over at you too, and if that ain’t true, I’ll eat my hat.”

Clyde chuckled quietly, but his face dropped again straight away. “Nah Jimmy, I’m sure she’s just passin through. Ain’t no point in tryin’ to go about startin’ anything.”

“Clyde, you’re never gonna know if you don’t say anything right?” Sylvia interjected as she leaned in encouragingly.

“I don’t think so. What’s the point?” Clyde shook his head, subconsciously rubbing the junction of his prosthetic and arm. “Clyde, if you don’t go talk to her, I bet someone in here is going to snatch her up real quick,” Jimmy leaned back in his chair, shrugging. “It’s now or never kid.”

“No Jimmy!” Clyde insisted, glancing your way. The man seated next to you was messing with your hair a bit, and he couldn’t help how his ears flushed and his heart clenched.

“Clyde,” Jimmy insisted once more. “Cauliflower.” Clyde met eyes with his brother, who nodded in response. The bartender rolled his eyes again, exasperated. “Ya know sometimes? I really hate these cauliflower plans.” Clyde yanked his brother's empty beer bottle from in front of him, replaced it with another, and straightened his shirt. Jimmy hooted from behind him, whistling just loud enough for their immediate group to hear. Clyde shot him a dirty look, but grabbed a glass to wipe down nonetheless and made his way over to where you sat.

~~~

“So… why ya in Boone?” Clyde spoke up, lifting his eyebrow and gazing at the girl from under his mop of hair.

You choked on your drink as you tried to respond before realizing your mouth was still full. Smiling, you wiped off your chin. “You keep sneaking up on me, Clyde!” you laughed, and he flushed for the thousandth time that night. “Sorry. It’s just, we don’t have a lot of people passin’ through here.” He gestured around the room with his right hand. “I’ve known all these folks' names since I was five, but yours I learnt tonight. Why?”

You downed the remainder of your current cider, and Clyde automatically stuck out his hand to take the glass and switch it for a fresh one, complete with a refill. “I’m in town on a big cat chase. Eastern cougars. We’ve got some reports of possible sightings in this area. Oh, thank you,” you replied, accepting the steaming mug from Clyde.

“Well, round here we have been having some weird livestock deaths lately,” Clyde shrugged. “Maybe it’s got somethin’ to do with that?”

“Sounds like it. I’m gonna be in the area for a little bit seeing if I can get some documented sightings, some photos, and maybe even a tag on a cougar so we can keep tabs on them.” You shrugged, sipping on the cider.

“Well, if you’d like, I’d be more than happy to show you round some of the game trails near town?” Clyde offered, the glint in his eye shining bright as he smiled, almost bashful, back at you. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared into his eyes, and your soft smile widened, if anything in pity for him, given what you knew was coming out of your mouth next. “Thank you so much for the offer Clyde, but I think I’ll be just fine. Anyway,” you took another swig of your second drink. You could feel your heart racing, and you knew you had to remove yourself before you had full heart palpitations. “Looks like the bar here keeps your hands full. Thanks for the drinks!” You placed a few bills on the bar to cover the bill (and then some). Clyde looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to keep up with your nervous chatting.

“Oh no, no problem, I-I just thought, that ya know, if you wanted…” he stuttered. His eyes flicked down to the still warm, half drunk mug on the bar top. You could see his plush lower lip jutting out slightly as he chewed on his upper one.

“I appreciate the offer Clyde. Really I do! But I’ll be okay. Maybe I’ll see you around soon,” you said, and patted his hand. He looked up briefly and you made eye contact for a fraction of a second. It almost pained you to tear away, but you were on the precipice of being engulfed by them. A moment longer and you knew would be diving headfirst into a myriad of problems that would come with getting involved with someone you knew for certain you would have to leave in a few short weeks. So instead, you pushed yourself away from the bar with a small smile and a wave, headed towards the door, and left without even a second glance back.

Taglist: @mind-p0llution (comment or message me to be added!)

#clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #Only Fools #logan lucky #adam driver #clyde logan #my writing

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vesuviannights · 4 years

Text

Lucio x Reader 🍋🍋

Gender neutral reader, no pronouns or body parts.

As an Omega, you’ve spent your life yearning for adventure and covering your symptoms with any range of spells and herbs you could find. And the world has been kind to you, keeping you hidden from any Alpha who would wish to have you - until a white wolf appears in your forest sanctuary, golden eyes and blood-stained maw, and your carefully crafted control begins to unravel.

5411 words.

Featuring: omegaverse lore, knotting, breeding kink, cum stuffing, biting/claiming, Alpha Lucio, Omega Reader, some Asra x Muriel, mentions of blood, mentions of starvation

If you’re familiar with Omegaverse lore, know that I’ve fiddled with some of it to merge it with what we know of the Arcana universe. If not - welcome, and I hope you enjoy your stay! Here’s an informative page if you want to learn about it before you read, but if not there’s just enough exposition woven throughout the fic to give you the basics.

Also, the whole ‘consent what consent’ vibe in Omegaverse fics always throws me a bit, so there’s some vaguely political stuff in here to address that.

This is the second fic (and third prompt) for my Terrifying Ten scorecard!

You had never wanted to be an Omega. Or a Beta. Or even an Alpha. You had only ever wanted to be you, and free to do whatever you pleased, and not weighed down by what each label meant, or how others looked at you because of it.

And so you had spent every year since your first heat, that horrifying moment you could no longer deny exactly what you were, trying to figure out new ways to stop or mask it.

Casting spells. Starving yourself. Hiding out in certain magical places to mask your scent. Carrying specific herbs or magical items with you to ward off the all-too-obvious symptoms until you could find sanctuary.

You knew it was dangerous. Illegal, in some parts. The right kind of Omega might be considered property by the wrong kind of Alpha, and the longer an Omega went through their heats without sating them by submitting to an Alpha, the more they risked one day being crippled by them.

But you…you risked it all. All for freedom. All for the world. For wanting to see and explore and live how you wanted and not for someone else.

And all because of what your Aunt had told you one day, when you had been walking past the Count’s palace. Her eyes had glazed over, her voice had become fickle and husky, like it always did whenever she was possessed by the spirits.

And then she had turned to you and whispered the six words you knew you could never escape:

One day he will have you.

The air is crisp around you as you push your fingers through the damp soil, seeking the mushrooms and roots you need for your evening meal.

Beside you, a basket is already near-filled with them, all sorts and varieties and colours, ready to be washed and made into stew. You would usually never pick so many for yourself, especially not during your heat when you were too nauseous to eat, but you always enjoyed leaving some for Muriel as a thanks for letting you kick him out of his hut for a week.

You didn’t think you could ever thank him enough, really, but you tried to every moment you could. The sanctuary it allowed for you to have was priceless, and no gift would ever suffice in return.

You drop a few more roots into your basket before dusting the dirt from your hands. A little is still there when you move your hair from your face, and flecks of it catch in the strands and on your cheeks.

You huff quietly under your breath.

—and just barely hear a second, more distance huff join it.

You freeze at the sound, an almost low growl that reverberates through the clearing and straight into your chest.

And that’s when you feel it.

Eyes.

Watching, waiting, curious.

Ready to devour.

You stand on shaking legs, your eyes darting around the edges of the clearing. Three rapid beats of your heart pass before you see it, hidden in the shadows of the trees just beyond reach.

It’s a wolf. White as snow, with two golden eyes and a bloodstained maw that curls back over its glistening teeth.

Your knees nearly buckle at the sight of it, the world stilling around you as its eyes pin you in place. There is a burn at the base of your throat, a thickness you can’t quite dislodge. A soft wind pulls at your clothes, rustles the trees around you, and when the wolf takes a single step forward, you’re hit with the faintest scent of honey.

It’s this that snaps you from your daze, that awakens you enough to release a short gasp as you take a single step back. The wolf’s ears perk, its pupils blow out, but it doesn’t take another step, and you manage to clamber your way back into the hut and slam the back door shut.

You pull every lock but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

You wait out the night in the bedroom upstairs in darkness, all curtains pulled, alone with your thoughts and fears until the sun peaks over the frosted forest trees and you are safe once more.

There are no more signs of the wolf, a mere figment of your imagination when you set foot back in the city a week later. Asra sends word that same day of his own return—without Muriel, but with fresh fish from the northern rivers.

And so you venture into the markets that evening with your satchel and coins, determined to have at least something in the house other than dried fruits and stale bread. Perhaps some root vegetables and spices for the fish. Some wine to pair with it.

The city is bustling at the evening hour, and you pick your way through it via a series of back streets and alleys you know well. Already in your bag is a fresh pick of swedes, and your mind is set on the mulled wine from the vendor by Salasi.

As you side step a cart and duck into an alley, you let out a quiet sigh—and are immediately hit with a swoop of heat that nearly crushes you.

It moves from head to toe with brutal force, one clean swoop before it settles in your gut. Your knees give from beneath you, and you barely notice the sting of you palms as you catch yourself on the ground.

Your vision is pinpricks of black, a foggy midnight. Racing heart. Short, shallow gasps.

And when you look up, you see it.

The wolf.

The sounds of the city are so distant, cut off by a fog you barely have the clarity to try and push your way through.

There, in the airless alley, there is nothing in the universe except for you and the white wolf as he paws forward, sharp claws clicking on the cobble.

His eyes are searing into your soul, and with each step he takes closer you find yourself keening, little whines and huffs from somewhere deep in your chest as your fingernails curl into the ground, near snapping from the force.

The wolf comes to a stop before you. As you wait on shaking hands and knees, it presses its nose to your face, your jaw, your neck. It inhales, and with it comes an oh-so-soft growl before it begins to circle.

And there you kneel, barely a day after your heat had already passed, brought down by the Alpha who circles and inhales you like its last meal.

When it steps behind you, you feel quiet noises of protest bubble in your chest, little whispers of no no no no no as he presses his maw between your legs—and with that singular action comes the wolf’s deepest growl yet, one that makes your arms give out from under you.

You fall and curl in on yourself, shaking and shivering even though it feels like a baby sun has found its home in your body, flaring and stretching itself out to every nerve and muscle it can find.

You’re barely aware of the wolf shifting, of its human scent hitting you.

A dying campfire. Honeysuckle.

You gasp out and try to shift out of his arms when he scoops you up.

“No, no,” you moan. “Please—please, I don’t—”

“Ssshhh.”

His voice is so soothing, right against your ear. Gentle. Safe.

You relax, the world slipping for a few moments as you press your face into his chest. His hands—one soft, one hard—curl into your body to keep you close. You sway as he walks, a soft oceanic movement that lulls you, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones.

And then the world goes black.

You blink and push yourself up on a shaking hand, the room slowly clearing as you brush the sleep from your eyes.

Every part of you is a little sore, as though you had run for too long without water. It’s daylight. The smell of fresh bread lingers in the room, and a moment later—

Asra appears in the door, soft smile and dazzling eyes as he leans against the frame.

The shop. You’re back in the shop.

“I was wondering when you would wake.”

He has that look about him. That freshly-fucked glow, the kind he always has when he comes back from being railed by a rutting Muriel’s fourteen inch cock for six days straight.

You stand, stretch, rub your face. “Is there food?”

“Plenty. You know I always need to replenish when I’m back.”

Downstairs, there is a ridiculous spread. Dried figs, small chunks of cheese, breads and olive oils, cold cured meats from your favourite market vendor. There is even a small selection of sweets in the corner, placed closest to Asra for ease of access.

The sight of so much food should be overwhelming, but you’re used to it. Asra never puts his money where his mouth is, or rather the food—always says he wants to eat and eat and eat after returning home, when really all he wants is to pick at things like a spoiled concubine.

He lounges on his side by the low table, supported by plush silk cushions while you lower yourself to sit cross-legged opposite him.

The two of you immediately begin working through the food while he talks about his plans for the week, how the weather will turn just enough for the two of you to spend a night out in the fields stargazing.

You murmur and agree to each thing, though you don’t really remember them once he moves on to the next one. Your concentration isn’t normally so poor, and if he notices you thinking on it, he doesn’t say a thing.

The spread of food slowly clears, until about half remains, and Asra has stopped picking.

You have a piece of toast halfway to your mouth when it hits you. Hazy and not entirely there and curious.

The alley. The wolf. The…the scent.

“Are you alright, love?” Asra asks, his voice coming to you as though through a thick fog.

You’re frowning, eyes unfocused. You don’t know if you’re alright. You can’t quite recall how you got home, or what happened after the scent.

Asra’s face shifts. He reaches out for your knee, squeezes. Your hazy memories become a little more so, and then you blink, and they are gone.

You exhale softly, and accept a small circle of cheese Asra pushes toward you. Your cheeks bloom in your happiness: it’s your favourite, a kind only available in a far-off city on the continent.

Grabbing it up with unapologetic greed, you take your first bite and release a soft moan. Asra beams at your pleasure, and the final sliver of uncertainty eases itself from the room.

“How did your week go?” He asks.

You nod, and you tell him it went well. You got a lot of reading done. You tried to paint. Muriel has a new row of herbs in his garden, though you couldn’t say what—identifying seeds has never been your specialty.

Asra’s eyes light up, and he laughs. “Muri will adore them, I’m sure.”

And you smile back, and bite into your toast.

“Last time I changed something in his hut,” you remind him, a mischievous glint in your eye. “He pouted for a week. Remember? He hated those carvings. Said he wanted to move out, they were so hideous.”

Asra’s lips twitch up, but something seems to fall, too. You tilt your head and watch as his gaze lingers for a second longer, then loses the fight and drops away.

“He’s…not leaving the hut, is he?” You ask slowly, a little more alert. And then, with a slightly tighter chest, “You’re not leaving, are you?”

He shakes his head, no, and then shrugs.

“Maybe. Muri is getting restless anyway,” he says. His gaze drops to his hands, where he’s picking at his nail beds. “He wants pups.”

“Do you?”

And then, so quietly you almost don’t hear it, a resigned, “Yeah.”

But. There’s a ‘but’ there, one you know not to push.

With the remains of your meal scattered and a new weight settled over the shop, you stand and begin to collect whatever you can save for the next day. Asra remains in his spot, staring at his nail beds, until you crouch by him and kiss his head, nodding toward your shared room.

The day melts into the afternoon, until the sun begins to disappear beneath the skyline and you’re stirred from your dozing by the sounds of rapping at the shop door.

Asra murmurs and stretches out beside you, then slowly unfurls each of his limbs from each of yours and moves for the door. Faust slithers out from the sheets at the foot of the bed and curls into the curve of your neck, and the two of you are very nearly back to sleep when Asra returns with a small piece of paper bearing the palace seal on the back.

He holds it up to you between two fingers, nose crinkled in mild distaste.

“It’s—” You pause to yawn, murmuring quietly as you sit up and rub at your eyes. “It’s from the Countess?”

Asra nods.

“The Count’s ruts have been getting longer and longer,” he sighs. The paper vanishes in a puff of magic, and he begins to gather his scarf and coat as he speaks. “And she can only be alone with the insufferable twat for so long herself.”

Your lips twitch a little at the comment, and he slings his bag over his shoulder before offering out a hand for Faust to slither up.

“Muriel isn’t back in the city yet,” he says, looking a little worried. “Will you be okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” you assure. You lean forward to kiss Faust on her nose, and then flop back down into the sheets, ready to settle in for another nap. “Wake me when you get back.”

Asra murmurs his goodbye, and you’re already slipping when he closes the shop door behind him.

Until another rapping comes, this time much firmer and a little more impatient.

Near blind, you push yourself up and stumble toward the door, still rubbing sleep from your eyes with the heel of your palm as you open the door.

And before you stands your white wolf.

Count Lucio.

You know it without thought, without consideration, as though every nerve in your body knew the exact feel of the flames that licked at them whenever he came close, in whichever form he chose.

You wait for it to hit you, that crippling heat, that burning need, but as you stare up at him through your lashes and his canines glint in the torchlight, you find nothing inside of yourself except your own racing heart.

You pause before you speak, body still as your eyes flicker over his face. “How—how did you know Asra would leave?”

He peers into the shop and steps inside, not waiting for an invitation as he looks around.

“I was a particularly insufferable twat today,” he tells you. “So that Noddy would request your master’s company.”

You exhale hard to cover the shake in your chest as you close the door, and against your better judgement you lock it.

“He’s…not my master,” you murmur to him.

He turns to you, canines glinting in the torchlight. “No. He’s not.”

With long, sure strides he stalks toward you, and of your own accord your eyes drop down and you walk yourself back until you hit the wall. He gives a low growl of approval, and—

There it is again, that scent, honeysuckle and a dying fire. Your eyes flutter shut; you can already feel the promise of what comes next.

“You’ll find I’m not a patient Alpha, my sweet,” he murmurs to you.

His alchemical arm reaches down, you feel it brush against the fabric of your clothes before he pulls something out. Your eyes catch on it, but you still can’t look up, still can’t raise your voice above a whisper.

“What is that?” You ask.

But of course, you know what it is.

“You know what it is,” he answers, an impatient lilt there. “Though perhaps you haven’t been knowledgeable in the ways you’ve been using it.”

He holds it out, and you take it in trembling fingers.

Myrrh. You knew it well, despite your attempt at ignorance. Muriel used it so people forgot him, and you used it to ignore what you were.

Asra had introduced it to you as something he himself had used in his battle to fight off his own heat and find true love instead—something that had clearly worked, and knowing that Muriel and Asra were as much in love as they were mated kept you religious about carrying it with you wherever you went.

With a clever combination of other herbs and spells, it kept the worst of it at bay. The pain was still there, but not the crippling heat, not the burning desire to be fucked and pupped without conscious choice.

You had never submitted to an Alpha, and you had never attracted any.

Until now.

Lucio tuts, pushes the hair from your face, laughs with an almost condescending edge.

“You’ve never submitted to an Alpha before now because you were waiting for me. This—“ He snatches it back to brandish it, then crushes it in his alchemical hand with a scoff. “This means nothing. That day in the forest I could have had you, could have pinned you and pupped you while you screamed.”

You shiver at his words. “Then why didn’t you?”

“Because you said ‘no’. Then, and last night when you collapsed in the alley. I’m an Alpha, but I’m not a monster.”

He traces your bottom lip, and it trembles then parts as your tongue darts out, hesitantly lapping at the tip of his thumb. You dare a glance up and see the approval in his eyes, the darkening of his irises, and your stomach leaps at the look. You turn your head and close your lips over his thumb, whimpering and whining as you suckle.

“You won’t last forever, pet,” he says. “You will have to submit. Your body demands it. Even now I can see the sweat of your brow, the tremble in your thighs…the myrrh and spells hide the symptoms but they don’t erase them forever.”

And at his words, your entire body shudders and you drop against him. It’s the alley all over again, a heat licking up your spine and every nerve, clawing at your veins, you’re whimpering and whining and the only thing you know is honeysuckle and dying woodfire.

He is growling, muscles rolling, pressing you against the wall as he nuzzles into your neck, as he paws at your clothes.

Say it say it say it say it—

You don’t know what he’s asking for, your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, your chest heaving, you need it now, you need to be rewarded, filled, fucked, pupped—

The thought slams into you without elegance and without warning, and you gasp out and shove him away, but he comes right back. He smashes his lips to yours, teeth clashing as he ruts his hips into your thigh.

“Say it!” He growls; it’s deeper, it echoes in your mind, demands. An Alpha’s voice.

You whimper, and the word tumbles from your lips in a pathetic cry.

“YES!”

And then he’s on you. He’s shredding your clothes, his teeth are at your neck, grazing and threatening to mark. You can feel the heat of his cock as he throws you down onto the table, you part your legs whining and clawing at the wood.

He snorts at the sight of you, a cold sneer as he looks you over. “What am I supposed to do with you like this? Present yourself.”

You scramble to roll over onto your stomach and push your hips into the air. You can feel your sudden heat lashing at your body, causing arousal to drip down your thighs, lubricating you for everything to come. You push your hips back, panting and whimpering, trying so desperately to find the heat of his cock.

His cock, his seed, to be filled, to be swelled, to be knotted and held there and bred and pupped and fucked over and over and over again—

“Please!” You whine and look over your shoulder, but he growls and pushes your head back down.

“Behave yourself.”

You feel his cock press into your inner thigh, and you know he must have shifted into his mating form, because no human cock could be so large, so thick. You shudder, your eyes sting from desperation.

He just laughs. An Alpha in control, desperate to fuck you and pup you, but he won’t make it easy for you to get what you want.

“Please!” You gasp out again. “I’ll—I’ll be good, I promise—”

“Oh, my dear little Omega,” he purrs into your shoulder blade. He pauses to graze his teeth there, and you go near-feral from the sting. “You will be good no matter what, my cock will see to that. Have you ever taken a cock this big before?”

You shake your head.

“Have you ever taken cock at all?”

You swallow, and when you don’t answer, his grip on your hips tightens.

“AH!” You yelp and jerk away from the bruising, but he drags you right back with a warning growl.

The action causes the head of his cock to slip into you, and you sob at the stretch of it, as the ache in your body burns even deeper at the knowledge that he’s inside of you, but not enough to sate you.

“Do you want my cock, little Omega?” He purrs. “Do you want me to fill you?” You give a pathetic whine. “Oh, you do? Well, then perhaps you should ask for it.”

Your words begin bubbling out before you can stop them.

“Please, please please—”

He scoffs. “Better than that, my dearest.”

His alchemical fingertips trace the curve of your spine. You clench and shudder around the head of his cock, but he remains perfectly still.

“Tell me exactly how you want me to take you.”

Your eyes roll as you gather your next words.

“I—I want—” You attempt to turn your face into the table to hide yourself, the drooling mess of your mouth, the crossing of your eyes, but he twists you back with an impatient growl. “PLEASE! Please, f-fuck me, please fuck me, fill me with your cock, breed me and pup me and fuck me please—”

Your words snap his final ounce of control, and he slams into you in one go with a howl, one that seems to shake the walls of the shop and every object on the shelves.

An Alpha’s howl.

A claiming howl.

The Count of Vesuvia, finally having found his Omega.

He begins fucking you without warning, long and thick strokes you know couldn’t possibly fit inside you. But they do, your body has shifted along with his own and every inch of him can fit inside of your dripping hole.

The room echoes with wet squelching noises as he moves at a brutal pace, his growing knot and balls slamming against you as he buries himself as deep as possible each time.

“Ohhh, does that feel better, pet?” He croons to you. “Does it feel good having my cock inside of you, fucking you like the submissive little bitch you are after you spent so long denying it?”

You nod and gasp, nails dragging along the oak of the table as you try to gain purchase to push back. You want his knot. You need it so bad, you need to be filled—

You sob. “P-please!”

“’Please’?” He laughs, and the barely-hidden edge makes that final hold on you snap.

“I WANT YOUR KNOT!” You scream. “I need your cum—I need it please—”

He reaches forward and closes a hand around your neck, yanking you up and back against his chest. His movements don’t still as both arms close around your waist, caging you in.

“I’ll knot you,” he murmurs into the back of your neck. “I’ll fill you with my cum and then my pups and watch you swell with them over and over again—” You whine as he speaks, and the deep growl from his chest is his approval. “But first, you must give me something in return.”

And then you feel it—the scrape of his too-sharp canines against your neck.

He wants to mark you.

Claim you.

Make you his, and only his, for everyone to see.

“Yes!” You gasp it out without even thinking, without needing to. “Mark me, I’m yours, I’m your mate—”

He lets out a feral growl at the word. “Say it again.”

“M-mate, I’m—” You feel your grip on reality slip, just for a moment, only to be brought back by his hand at your throat, shaking you as he rattles your body with his brutal pace.

“Louder, again—scream it for the city to hear!”

“MATE!”

His hand tightens just that little bit more.

“Again!”

“MATE, I’M YOUR MATE—AH!”

His teeth sink in, right as his knot does, and it’s the most exquisite pain you have ever felt in your life.

While his teeth cut into your neck and mark you with his scent, claiming you forever as his, his knot stretches you to its impossible size, locking you to him as his cum spills inside of you, copious and hot and thick.

You groan and whine and whimper at the feel, the world blacking out for a few moments as your body strains to take it all in. No world, no words, no time; just the warmth of his cum as it swells your stomach, the sweat that trickles down your collar bone along with the blood that stains your skin and his teeth.

When you return to consciousness a moment later, your own orgasm is rocking through you. It’s burning you from the inside out, leaving you dazed and aching, squeezing around his swollen cock and knot, greedily draining him and everything he is offering you.

As you start to come down, panting and gasping, you can feel something at your thighs. You realise, with heavy eyes and barely-there mewls, that there is so much of his cum inside of you, flooding you, that it has leaked out past his knot. It’s dribbling down your heated skin, following the curve of your thigh, the back of your knee, to the floor with soft little pats.

You let out a soft cry as he pulls his canines from your neck, then laves at the marks with his tongue to seal them. Your hand goes to your stomach, still so impossibly swollen with his cum—and one day, if he had his way, with more than his cum.

His hand joins yours at your stomach, pressing gently. You groan in protest at the ache, and he shushes you with a kiss behind your ear as more of his cum leaks out and runs down each of your legs.

“Oh little Omega, look at the mess you’ve made,” he murmurs.

His voice is quiet now, the Alpha sated, though it’s only temporary. Within half an hour, his knot will have receded, and he will be ready to fuck you again, and knot you again, and fill you with his cum again, over and over throughout the night and well into the next few days, until his rut is over and he has had his fill.

You let out a soft cry as he shifts the two of you to stretch out along the table, his body curved along your spine.

“You’ve been coupling thistle with the myrrh, have you not?” He asks.

You nod. Even though you were so careful to never be exposed to an Alpha until now, you still took the precautions to prevent pregnancy.

“That will have to stop immediately,” he murmurs into the back of your neck. He nuzzles with his nose, and then presses a single, slow, open-mouthed kiss there. “I want you swollen with my pups.”

You swallow thickly, and when you don’t nod or make a noise to agree, he reaches forward and roughly takes hold of your chin. Your eyes go to his lips, feeling the Alpha roll through him again, you can’t meet his gaze.

“Do you not want my pups?” You shake your head. “’No’, you don’t want them, or ‘no’, I’m wrong?”

You swallow. His grip tightens. You whimper, and in response you feel his cock twitch inside of you, setting off a new round of heat that begins to curl around your abdomen and the base of your spine.

You’re already panting a little when you answer. “I want your pups. I want to be your—your breeding bitch.”

“Good mate,” he murmurs. His hand goes back to your stomach, pressing against the swell of it once more.

As if pulled by strings, you whine and twitch against him, and his body rolls with a growl as he nuzzles into your neck.

“B-but—” You gasp it out, and feel him freeze behind you. But he waits. “I…I want to wait. Please. I don’t think I can handle…pups, right now.” You swallow, and when he still hasn’t said a word, you add in a whisper, “I want to see the world.”

It seems like an eternity before he speaks, or moves, or gives you any indication of what he feels. His lips remain at the back of your neck, and his hand against your stomach, the pressure there just enough to be a constant reminder of how full you are of him.

“I would never dream of taking your autonomy from you,” he murmurs, breaking the silence. “If you wish to be swathed in silks, then I will find the best out there. If you wish to spend your days lounging in my palace without lifting a finger, then I shall assign you a thousand hands to help. And if you wish to see the world…”

Your breath catches in your throat. You can hear the shake on his voice, the barely-contained Alpha—and beneath it all, the terrified Count Lucio, afraid that affection will not remain forever. That you will not remain forever.

“…then you will see the world.”

You nod, but you can’t bring yourself to thank him. Instead, you lift a hand to his wrist, holding it against your throat for the comfort and security it offers.

It doesn’t take more than a few moments before you feel him tensing behind you, the Alpha’s growl building in his chest.

“I will fuck you on every surface in this shop until sunrise,” he says, voice deathly still. “Until you can no longer walk, until you can no longer swallow my cum or fit any more of it inside your aching hole, and even then. And if your master returns, I’ll make him watch—maybe I will even make him join, no matter who his Alpha is. How does that sound, pet?”

You’re shivering from the heat again; without the myrrh and with your Alpha so close by, with your new mark burning at your neck, there is little to do.

Everything he says sounds so wonderful. So delicious. You want to be fucked and bred and swollen and held down while he does whatever he needs to you, while he coos to you about how much of his cum is inside of you, how swollen and aching you are, how pretty it looks dribbling down your thighs and leaving drops on the wooden floor of the shop.

All too soon, before you have even managed to answer, you feel him beginning to pull out of you. Along with it, some of his seed spills out onto the table, and you feel tears sting your eyes at the loss.

Until he rights you, hips in the air, and rakes his claws down your spine as he leans in to whisper.

“Spread yourself apart for me like a good little breeding slut.”

And then he slams himself into you once more.

🍑 Requesting | Masterlist | My Ao3

#the arcana #lucio #count lucio #lucio x reader #lucio morgasson #the arcana lucio #the arcana count lucio #lemon #writing #theterrifyingten #ttt

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onthemeander · 5 years

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A thousand thanks to Psionicsnow for the prompt. It was fun to write such a soft and subtle story. Very sweet and innocent.

Interested in getting your prompt written? Check me out!

Fresh Cut Grass

Everything hurt. Every organ, muscle, bones, joints, cell, and atom felt like it was smothered in gasoline and set ablaze in a tire fire. Her soul was cracked and broken and shattered and she couldn’t scavenge a single iota of energy to try and collect the shards. Instead, her tears carried them away on a wave of sadness rolling down her cheeks. All of it was let loose, laying across the floors and couch of her apartment as she cried.

Moose laid on her legs, pinning them with his warm wrinkly body while watching her with his watery eyes. She clutched the couch cushion to her chest, curling up as tight as possible without kicking her poor basset hound from his perch. Her eyes were burning and swollen as the tears pooled into a large stain across the cushion. Her sobbing was raw, a baser aching sound from her vocal cords that rang in her ears. The silence of her apartment making every sound amplified.

Suddenly, there was a solid knock at her front door. The sound was paired with a taut but gentle voice calling out her name. Moose sat up, ears perked towards the door, tail wagging and starting to pant in excitement. She heard her neighbor insert his copy of her apartment key into the lock. Tentatively the door opened, just enough for her blonde headed attractive neighbor to pop in. His light blue eyes widened as he slipped in through the threshold. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“Steve. I’m… sorry. Please-“ She gasped out, trying to wave him away while rolling to her side, Pressing her face into the back for her couch. She pressed in as close as possible to he back cushions to quiet her sobs. Her door lock clicked into place, his sneakers squeaked as he quickly crossed her wood floors in only four steps. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell the light was dimming around her as his shadow came over her.

The scent of fresh cut grass, leather and musk wafted off of him. It changed the air altogether, making the stale stagnant sadness that clung all of them be washed into a soothing balm. The combination was so comforting that she started to breathe deeply for the first time since she started crying. The iron grip around her lungs slightly loosen, the sudden freedom set its muscles on fire requiring more cooling air to ease the ache.

A large calloused hand was soothing placed atop the crown of her head. A large warm wight that grounded her racing mind. Her head was manipulated, picked up just long enough for the sound of shuffling to happen. After several seconds, he had placed a rather warm and firm pillow under her head. The smell of grass was stronger now but the pillow felt weird. It was just a bit too stiff like there was a firm structure deep within its batting. Confused, she opens one of her eyes just long enough to realize that her pillow was his lap.

Even with the surprise, she couldn’t stop the tears, forced to close them again as another fit of hiccups broke out. Steve just sat there, still and calm, silently running his broad fingers through her tresses. Her hands, which had been cushioning her head, now gripped large chunks of his old t-shirt between her fingers. Time was suspended as they sat there.

Slowly she felt just enough energy come back to here where she could actually form words. “I’m… I’m sorry. I just…” her voice made a disgustingly wet gurgling noise, cut off by a full body sob. She was sure there were large tear stains cross his right pant leg. Steve said nothing, just rubbed circles into her scalp and random shapes into her back. Moose wined either upset by everything or simply hungry.

She was slowly coming down from the terrifying height of her crying. It felt like it took an eternity and all it shoved into a single second. Everything that was wavy and faded began to come back into focus as the tears slowed. her breathing haltingly leveled out allowing her own lungs to reach her nose, no longer having to be shoved through her mouth.

His sweatpants-clad thighs were burningly sturdy under her temple, as a set of rolled electric blankets, soothing the pulsing ache that had made its home there. Though he was dressed from the gym he was freshly washed, smelling of citrus, herbs and earthy woods. Like he took his run through a springtime forest, dashing through citrus trees, sage bushes and the fresh waters of some nirvanic stream. “Do you want to talk about it?” She could feel his stomach expands against the back of her head as he spoke. A sturdy constant rhythm she could align her own erratic sobbing gasps too.

She couldn’t, not right now, maybe when things were not as raw. “No. I’m sorry but not really.” Moose whined at their feet, his stubby wrinkly front feet prompting him up against the cushion seat. She sniffed and rubbed her eyes, refusing to look anywhere other than the pattern of the sun streaming through the window panes.

Steve remained quiet, supporting her in so many ways, simply breathing and being there. Stroking random shapes into her scalp with his broad callous fingers, his short nails feeling hypnotically heavenly against her pulsing headache.

Her sleeve was already covered in snot, which made her stomach cramp in embarrassment. Steve either didn’t notice or care as I magically materialized a tissue for her to use. “You must think I am ridiculous.”

“No,” His voice sounding so strong and clear, “we all have our times when we need to let everything go.” He kept handing her tissues not one complaining as her nose loudly honked as she blew it. Finally, the last tears rolled down her check.

Giving one last bone achingly deep sigh she rolled onto her back looking up at his handsome face. His hair was wet, starting to curl in the summer humidity. The light bounced softly off his jawline, freshly shaved and washed. Every bid the perfect all-American man that he was partially famous for. She probably looked a mess next to this Adonis yet the look in his eyes was one of pure reverence.

“Okay, I’m good. I’m sorry but I’m fine,” She said, proud of herself for only sniffing once. He had a soft closed mouth smile for her. “So why did you come over Steve? Did you need something?” Finally getting the energy she sat up, head slightly throbbing at the movement. Moose hopped down, woofing slightly in discontent at being forced to leave his perch. Steve let her sit up but kept close by, constantly keeping contact between them.

“Uhhh… No,” His face became a little ruddy, “actually I heard you from my apartment and was concerned.” She flinched at that, pulling into a tight ball, embarrassed and unable to keep touching him. “Oh god, I am so sorry. I’m sorry you had to come over like that.” He, however, seemed to have other ideas. With a gentle insistence, having her lean against his chest, tucking her head under his jaw. Moose was wagging his tail excitedly looking up at them as she had her head protectively tucked into the neck of the super soldier.

“No, No, it’s okay.” He comforted, voice rumbling so close to her ears. Everything was so close and homey. “I want to make sure you are okay. I want to be there for you when you need someone.” His cologne was centralized right above his collar bone, a buttery warm spiced musk that she could stop from greedily inhaling.

They sat there, simply breathing within each other’s space. The air was heated and electric, sparking all of her nerve endings just being in that place. Closing her eyes, she snuggled into the warmth, which was better than any blanket. She was content, ready to milk the moment and etch the memory into her mind permanently. Just below her palm, she could feel the bold beating of Steve’s heart.

Gently he urged her to turn to look directly at him. His eyes were positively sparkling, the color of a pair of Blue Morpho Butterfly wings with the sun streaming through. Every edge around him was softened, a far cry from the hardened edges sculpted into every soldier and hero’s being. “I care about you, you are special to me.”

“I… I umm… I… same?” Oh god, her heart was shoved so tight in throat she wasn’t able to even phrase a response. I’m sorry just started to pour out of her mouth, her skin burning surely as hot and red as a chili pepper. Steve’s eyebrows rose in an almost comically high pose as he held in a soft laugh. His teeth were white and perfectly aligned, putting Arlington to shame, as he lost out to the urge not to chuckle. His cheeks were red as well, flushed and glowing with so much life.

“May I kiss you?” He asked, his voice husky in it’s whispered tone. Her words were caged like a wild pacing tiger in her throat. She just leaned in, hoping that was yes enough. His hands were enormous, cupping her cheek, and tickling the sensitive skin behind her ear. His aftershave clinging to his freshly shaved face, deep smoky burning that warmed her like the comforting feeling of the first summer campfire with family.

His lips were as bold and gentlemanly as the rest of him. Every touch of their chaste lips was treated like a soft and sacred act. A sentiment left from a bygone era, something to be cherished. He took no advances, treating kissing, not like a lead up to the main event but the main event itself.

The fresh cut grass smell filled every one of her inhales. Sparking memories of rolling down hills as a kid and jumping through sprinklers as they watered lawns. It mixed with the minty taste in her mouth leaving her energized and joyous. She ran her fingers up his arm, tucking them just under the cuff of his t-shirt, feeling the curve of his bulging biceps. He wrapped his large arms around her waist, resting them comfortably just above her hips.

The kisses became shorter, less afraid of them ending all together they simply basked at the moment. They shared soft giggles and gasps between kisses, all the joy, and excitement had to come out in any way possible. There were little moments of teeth clashing together, noses smooshing into each other and complete misses that resulted in lips on chins that made everything even more perfect and real. Movies kisses were so sterile, they didn’t prepare you for the true joy of the little mess ups that made it even more exciting.

Pulling away slowly they relaxed in each other’s space. They were breathing each other’s air and enjoying the look of each other’s flushed face. Steve’s hands stroked along her flanks, tickling ever so slightly. His lips were swollen and pink, becoming even redder as he chewed on it. He seemed almost nervous. All she could do was watch as those perfectly white straight teeth peeked out from his lush lips. Looking up she noticed his cornflower colored eyes pinning her with a determined stare.

“Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?” His voice, usually so bold was reduced to a tender whisper. Her breath caught in her throat, the thudding in her chest increased. He cupped her hands between his own, they almost disappear beneath the wide expanse of his palms. Her cheeks ached with the sudden strain of how wide her smile was. Tears threaten to fall again, but the pain was thankfully not accompanying it this time.

“Yes.”

#marvel #fic commission #captain america #steve rodgers x reader #fanfiction community

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bandbagels · 7 years

Text

“leave me alone” & “I don’t need your help” - alcoholic!gee way x reader

anon asked: “8 and 9 with Gerard Way?”

a/n: I’m tired and I’m going on a camping trip with my entire class and we can’t have electronics so I’m bringing 15 kazoos so I can have some decent music during this week.

prompt list // masterlist // tell me things

I sit there quietly. Three weeks. Three whole weeks of fighting and coming home late and drinking and all I could do was sit there.

What else was I supposed to do?

Gee hadn’t called, but it’s not like he ever did, even after the fight we had about it, and I still knew what time he’d be coming home. Two in the fucking morning like every other night. I shouldn’t be staying up. I shouldn’t have to, but the possibility of him not coming home because he’s drunkly passed out in a gutter somewhere or he got in a really bad bar fight kept me awake and worried, and I hated worrying about him when I knew he was coming home. But I couldn’t help it.

The jingle of keys alarmed my senses and I sit a little straighter as Gee walks in, looking wasted. He doesn’t see me as he throws his keys on the counter, bumping himself into it first and almost falling, but he doesn’t. Then, as I stand, he lifts his head to look at me.

“Shit, Y/n, what are you still doin’ up. I thought we talked about this.” He starts, rubbing his face, “You don’t gotta wait up for me.”

“You were supposed to call if you were coming home late.” I mumble way too calmly.

“I did.” He says.

“You called five hours ago.”

“I was late.”

I sigh, throwing a blanket towards him.

“Go to sleep, Gerard.” I groan.

“Baby,” He starts, coming up closer, “Don’t be mad at me.”

“Leave me alone, Gee.” I state, pushing his hands off and walking down the hallway to our shared room, “Sleep on the couch.”

Then I fell asleep, thankfully able to find some knowing he was home and safe.

—

I wake up first, crawling out of bed involuntarily, making sure that Gee was in fact still sleeping on the couch and he was, almost falling off. I noticed the liquor bottle on the ground next to the couch and I go to grab it, internally wanting to break down. It’s gotten too far and I know it.

“Y/n?” He asks groggily. I don’t answer as I grab eggs from the fridge, picking a few out. I hear him stand from the couch, heading to the bathroom to probably grab Aspirin. Just as I’m putting the eggs in the pan, he comes back out, his messy and cute hair almost dragging me back in. Don’t get me wrong though, he still looked absolutely horrible.

“I can make the eggs, honey.” He tries, but I don’t budge, ignoring him completely. I go to reach for the cheese, salt and the pepper but Gee put them too high on the shelves, like he always did and since he was taller than me, I couldn’t reach it.

“Let me help.” Gee hums, reaching for the spices.

“I don’t need your help!” I say, startling him. I sigh, resting on the countertop, “I don’t-“ Tears escape my eyes, “Gee, I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, “I don’t mean to put all this stress on you.”

“But you do, Gee, you-“ I pause, trying to collect my thoughts, “We’ve talked about this, and baby, you need help.”

“I know.” He admits, “I know.”

“What did you do last night? Or the past couple nights?” I ask him, “And tell me the truth.”

He sighs, laying his head in his hands, “You don’t want to know, love.” He tries to chuckle to make the situation better but it doesn’t.

“I have to know, Gerard.” I tell him and he’s quiet, “I’m not going to leave you. I just have to know.”

He’s quiet for a bit longer before continuing.

“Drinking, mostly. Lots of it. The boys told me it was getting out of control but I brushed it off. Then it started manifesting into drugs, sweetheart.” He tells me, tears brimming his eyes, “And the coke and weed started and-“ He stops, refusing to look at me, “I can’t stop. It- it makes me feel so good and I hate not doing it and-“ I stop him, grabbing his face and turning him to look at me.

“I love you, and we’re going to get through this.” I tell him, “I’m not going to leave you, Gee. Ever.”

“Thank you.” Gee mumbles as he hugs me, nuzzling his head in my neck, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” I say, trying to forget the alcohol stale on his breath.

prompt list // masterlist // send me things

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lukaina · 7 years

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The BookWorm Questionnaire!

[Disclaimer: I have not created this questionnaire. I had the post in drafts and completed it today. However, the person that I saved the draft from has already deactivated the account. Their source was: http://bookaddict24-7.com/]

1. What book are you reading right now?

I am in the middle of “The illustrated Gormenghast Trilogy” (the second book: Gormenghast) by Mervyn Peake. I have a novella by Laird Barron left in the “Ominosus” anthology that contained to lovecraftiana novelettes by Elizabeth Bear and Caitlín R. Kiernan. Finally, on Friday I started reading “Too Like the Lighting” by Ada Palmer, the first book in the Terra Ignota quartet and a really challenging text so far.

2. What will you read next? I plan to keep on reading horror anthologies, maybe throw a Tanith Lee novel to spice things up and read the second TP of the comic “Monstress” by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda. I am also interested in checking the much hyped “The Girls” by Emma Cline and reading “Sunshine” by Robin McKinley.

3. What was your favorite childhood book? It would be tied between “Glubbslyme” by Jacqueline Wilson (in Spanish: “Babatracio”) and “La auténtica Susi” (in German: “Echt Susi”) by Christine Nöstlinger.

4. What were your reading habits like as a kid? I read often, went to the library at least once a week and was scolded for reading “too much” by my grandmother, who thought it was damaging my sight. In retrospect, it probably didn’t help that I needed glasses as soon as I started reading.

5. How many books do you have checked out from the library? Right now, none, but when I do I take at least two.

6. What books do you have on hold at the library? None at the moment.

7. Do you have a bad book habit? I have a horrible posture reading and my neck and back suffer. Also, I tend to read while eating now that I work at home and sauces/soups/teas end up staining the pages more often that I would like to admit.

8. Do you read one book at a time, or several? I used to be a strict one-book-at-a-time person (unless one was an essay) by now I juggle at least couple of books. I read the very heavy tomes and the paperbacks with thin binding at home to avoid damaging the books and I usually take the e-reader or a lighter book to read outside (for paperbacks, I use a small cloth bag I bought in Germany for book carrying or a totebag if I have lent the bag to Marc).

9. What is your favorite book you’ve read this year? “The Dispossessed” by Ursula K. Le Guin is absurdly good (and now I want to live on an anarchist moon). Second would be “Radiance” by Catherynne M. Valente, a decopunk novel about b/w cinema in a world where the Solar System has been populated by humans.

10. What is your least favorite book you’ve read this year? I read professionally for a publishing house and some of the manuscripts were subpar. A couple contained very harmful tropes and some had the laziest writing you can imagine.

11. What is your reading comfort zone? Dark fantasy, science-fiction, non-gorey horror, magical realism.

12. How often do you read outside of your comfort zone? Not often. I rarely read mysteries, romance, erotica or historical novels. Lately, I have received a score of YA manuscripts because of my and I have ended up reading many romantic stories and thrillers.

13. What is your favorite place to read? Trains and buses. I don’t usually get motion sickness and the landscape is an interesting view when I need to rest my eyes.

14. Do you lend out books? Not often. My friends live far or have too many books of their own pending.

15. Do you dog-ear books? NEVER. I remember or use one of my billion bookmarks (or random pieces of paper).

16. Do you write in the margins of books? No. I have a notebook for my manuscript reading and I try to take notes on my phone when I really like a quote.

17. What makes you love a book? Non-reliable narrators, a heavy use of mythology and folklore, beautiful descriptions, given names that have meaning, a plot that follows several generations of a family, sorority.

18. What will inspire you to recommend a book? When I realize a book is a perfect fit for a person and they are going to appreciate the style or the theme.

19. What is the one book you will always recommend to everyone? My Tanith Lee proselytism forces me to recommend “Biting the Sun” to everybody. I have also been an enthusiast defender of “The Drowning Girl” by Caitlín R. Kiernan, the comics “The Wicked + The Divine” (by Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie), the novel “Embassytown” by China Miéville (translator sci-fi!) and Jacqueline Carey’s “Kushiel’s Dart”.

20. Is there a book you love that nobody else seems to? In high school we had to read “Últimas tardes con Teresa” by Juan Marsé and everybody I know dislikes it violently, while I can still quote fragments.

21. Do you read while you are: Eating? Taking a bath? Watching TV? Listening to music? On the computer? On the bus? Eating: yes. Taking a bath: never (I would be too afraid and also I have a very small bath). Watching TV: no and I also find distracting if somebody else is watching. Listening to music: not often but I can if it helps drown a worse sound. On the bus: yes, and gladly.

22. What is your favorite genre to read? Dark fantasy followed by anthropological science-fiction (in the vein of Le Guin or Karen Lord’s “The Best of all Possible Worlds”).

23. What genre do you rarely read, but wish you read more of? Historical. I like history but I am not sure of where the good books are between a pile of mediocre and lengthy novels.

24. What is your favorite biography? I have not read many biographies but I like essays with biographical content like Caitlin Moran’s books or Kameron Hurleys’ “The Geek Feminist Revolution”.

25. What is your favorite non-fiction? I remember enjoying “Evil by Design”: The Creation and Marketing of the Femme fatale” about the idea of the fallen woman, the dichotomy Virgin Mary/prostitute, the mythological representation of evil women and the female characterization of absinthe.

26. Have you ever read a self-help book? My friends gifted me a teenage book on self-esteem but other than that I tend to dislike the genre and avoid it.

27. What is your favorite reading snack? Ideally, something that is not messy and does not leave crumbs or stains but I love drinking coffee/tea and eating chocolate while reading.

28. What is the most inspirational book you’ve read this year? “The Dispossessed” has prompted HOURS of speculation with Marc about the feasibility of the political and economic system in the novel. Creatively speaking, the Gormenghast series is so beautifully and evocatively written that some fragments are even painful to read.

29. Are there any books that have been ruined for you by all the hype? I hyped myself too much with Jeffrey Eugenides’ “The Marriage Plot” because I had loved “The Virgin Suicides” and “Middlesex”. I was a bit disappointed and I didn’t engage with the characters.

30. How often do you agree with critics about a book? I don’t tend to follow the critics but I check the recommendations of people with a taste similar to mine.

31. How do you feel about giving negative reviews? I used to write reviews for a website and it was really hard for me, as I imaged the impact it could have in the author. I only rate books I really enjoy in Goodreads to get similar recommendations. I feel that the system of stars or points never really reflects my experience with a book and that we tend to focus on objectivity too much while most of my reading experience is REALLY subjective.

32. What book are you most intimidated to begin? It used to be “Ada or Ardor” by Nabokov and it was really challenging. Now I am respectfully waiting for the right moment to start “Perdido Street Station” by China Miéville.

33. What book are you most likely to take on vacation with you? I like tying books to travels (“Game of Thrones” was my Erasmus read, I read “Sabella” by Tanith Lee and “Aniara” by Harry Martinson in Venice, etc.). I tend to plan the books I pack for travels with care. In December I have a wedding and I am already pondering which Tanith Lee novel I will take with me. Probably I will continue the Flat Earth series.

34. What is the longest you have gone without reading? A couple of days.

35. What is a book that you just couldn’t finish? The feminist essay book “Vamps & Tramps” by Camille Paglia. I don’t recall exactly why, only that I feel a remnant of anger when I see the cover.

36. What is the most money you have spent on books at one time? Around 80-100 euros on a couple of very specific occasions.

37. How often do you skim through a book before reading it? Very often. I had to cure me of the impulsion to check the last line of a book because I was spoiling myself often.

38. Do you keep books or give them away once you’ve read them? I tend to keep them and they will make the next time we change flats a living hell :)

39. Are there any books that you’ve been avoiding, or refuse to read? I actively avoid giving money to Orson Scott Card.

40. What is a book you didn’t expect to like, but did? The first stories of Lankhmar by Fritz Leiber. Sword and sorcery seems a bit stale for me as a subgenre but I found the stories funny and I loved to spot future Discworld references.

41. What is your favorite guilt-free pleasure reading? In ASOIAF I swooned with the Sansa Stark/Sandor Clegane relationship. I acknowledge he is a troubled character and his whole attraction to youth/beauty/purity is very cliché but I have a soft spot for certain clichés.

42. What reading materials are in your bathroom right now? None. My bathroom is a small wet place and I want my books dry. However, I sometimes bring reading materials to the bathroom.

43. What book do you most remember reading for school? “La plaça del Diamant” by Catalan author Mercè Rodoreda, the story of a poor and very sensitive woman living in a Barcelona cursed by the civil war. It’s a sad book with a glimmer of hope. If you are trying to get into Catalan lit, this one is a top recommendation!

44. What was the last book that you couldn’t put down until you finished it? “Wylding Hall” by Elizabeth Hand.

45. What book is (physically) closest to you right now? I’m in the office/library at home so most of my books are equally close to me now.

46. What is your favorite book series? The first Kushiel trilogy by Jacqueline Carey. It is not that I don’t recommend the other books in the same universe, only that I have not read them yet and I can’t say if they hold up to the original trilogy.

47. What is the longest book you’ve ever read? Shortest? Longest: According to Goodreads, “A Dance with Dragons”, followed by Michel Faber’s “The Crimson Petal and the White”. Shortest: don’t remember. Maybe a couple of small anthologies with Russian short stories by Pushkin and Teffi.

48. Who is your favorite book character? As a kid, I adored Anne (of Green Gables). Now I admire Granny Weatherwax from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld, for example.

49. Who is your favorite author? Tanith Lee.

50. What is your favorite book? I am not really sure but I started saying “Biting the Sun” by Tanith Lee and it has stuck.

#books #fiction #questionnaire #tanith lee #discworld #caitlín r. kiernan #jacqueline carey #elizabeth hand #gormenghast #ursula k. le guin #china miéville #ada palmer #karen lord #mercè rodoreda #jeffrey eugenides #terry pratchett #kameron hurley #the wicked + the divine

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