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pickingupmymercedes · 3 months ago

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Happy you're home - Lewis Hamilton

request : "their son is like 2/3 y/o and reader obviously pays more attention to him, even after coming back from work, so lewis is a bit 'jealous' and very clingy, needy with his wife." - fluff anon ✌🏽(gonna call you that because you were so lovely even with the confusion)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Wife!Reader!

wordcount: +2k

a/n: There's a bit of angst , I know the request was for something fluff, but I just had to. It's worth it though, promise😉.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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"So, special dates?" Lewis asked casually as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Y/n stir the sauce simmering on the stove.

Y/n glanced over her shoulder at him, catching the hint of something beneath his tone. "Yeah, just little outings after I pick him up from nursery" she replied lightly, sensing where this conversation was headed.

"Outings?" Lewis repeated, pushing off the counter to walk closer, his eyes following her every move. "You make it sound so... exclusive."

"Well" Y/n teased, turning to face him fully "It was our thing while you were away. Just me and him. You know he's a little creature of habit."

Lewis crossed his arms, feigning nonchalance. "And what, he's not happy I'm home now?"

Y/n laughed softly, moving to grab a couple of plates. "He's thrilled you're home, Lew. But he's also two, and he's gotten used to our routine."

Lewis hummed, but there was a slight edge to his expression. "I just thought he’d be excited to see me. I mean, I picked him up, and he barely smiled."

"He's not used to you picking him up, that's all. Give him time." She set the plates down on the table and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "He missed you. We both did."

Lewis softened at her touch, pulling her closer. "I missed you too. I just feel a bit... left out?"

Y/n tilted her head, studying him. "Left out?" She smiled, though she could see the seriousness in his eyes.

"I mean…" he admitted, a bit sheepishly. "It’s like every time I turn around, he's glued to you. And I get it, you're his mom, but..." He trailed off, his hand resting on her hip, thumb brushing absentmindedly against the skin he found just below the waistband of her jeans. "I guess I'm just a little jealous."

"Of him?" Y/n raised an eyebrow, trying to hide her amusement.

"Maybe," Lewis muttered, his voice low. "Or maybe of the fact that you two have all these moments when I'm not around."

Y/n's smile turned into a gentle laugh, and she leaned up to kiss him softly. "You know, you could join us on our little dates."

"Could I?" Lewis' eyes sparkled with the challenge. "Because it seemed like he wasn't too happy about me crashing those special times today."

Y/n chuckled. "We'll make it our thing—all three of us."

Lewis seemed to consider this, his hands tightening around her. "I don't want to just be the guy who shows up between races, Y/n. I want to be part of all of it."

"You are" she reassured him, kissing the corner of his mouth. "And trust me, he adores you. He just doesn't know how to express it."

He sighed, nodding slowly. "I know. I just hate missing out."

Y/n cupped his face, making him meet her gaze. "You're here now. And that's what matters."

As the rest of the evening went by the tension from earlier slowly dissipated. But Y/n couldn't help but notice how clingy Lewis was, not just with their son but with her too.

Every chance he got, he was touching her, keeping her close. When it was time to put their son to bed, Lewis lingered, his hands on the small of her back as she tucked the little boy in.

As they got ready for bed themselves, Y/n couldn’t contain herself anymore. She slipped into her nightwear, watching as Lewis pulled back the covers.

"So" she began, trying to sound casual, "you’re a little... possessive tonight."

"Possessive?" Lewis looked up; one eyebrow raised. "Is that what you call it?"

"Handsy would be a better word" Y/n teased, slipping into bed beside him.

Lewis smirked, leaning closer. "Maybe I missed you more than I realized."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the smile forming on her lips. "Or maybe you're still a bit jealous of a toddler."

Lewis didn’t deny it, instead pulling her into his arms, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Maybe I am. But can you blame me?"

Y/n laughed softly, running her fingers tips on his arm. "You’re ridiculous, you know that?"

"Um…" Lewis murmured, his lips brushing against her neck.

Before she could respond, they were interrupted by the sound of their son's cries coming through the baby monitor. Y/n sighed, moving to get up, but Lewis held her back for a moment.

"Does he really need you every time?" he grumbled, clearly frustrated.

"He's two, Lewis," Y/n reminded him gently, though there was a hint of impatience in her tone. "And yes, he needs me because that's all he’s got."

The words were out before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted them. Lewis’s expression shifted, something like hurt and understanding mixed on his features. "Y/n..."

"I’m sorry," she quickly apologized, her voice softening. "That’s not what I meant."

Lewis nodded, though the sadness lingered in his eyes. "We'll talk later, okay?"

Y/n nodded, leaning down to kiss him briefly before slipping out of bed.

She hurried to their son's room, finding him sitting up in his crib, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks.

"Dada?" he asked through sniffles, looking around as if expecting to see Lewis behind her.

Y/n’s heart melted a little, and she leaned into the crib, brushing his curls back. "Dada's asleep, sweetie. Do you want me to tuck you in?"

But their son shook his head, determined. "Dada."

Before Y/n could respond, Lewis appeared in the doorway, his expression softening as he saw their son. "Hey, buddy" he said quietly, crossing the room to pick him up.

The little boy immediately settled against his father’s chest, his tiny arms wrapping around Lewis’s biceps.

Y/n watched as Lewis sat down in the recliner, cradling their son with a tenderness as she have them some space, slipping out of the room and back into bed.

When Lewis finally returned, his footsteps were soft as he approached the bed. He slipped in beside her, pulling her close and leaving a kiss to her exposed shoulder.

"Has he been waking up like that a lot?" Lewis asked, his voice tinged with concern as he settled into bed beside Y/n.

Y/n nodded, resting her head on his chest. "For the past couple of weeks mostly. The change in routine really got to him."

Lewis sighed deeply, his hand gently tracing circles on her back. "I should’ve been here for his first days at nursery."

Y/n lifted her head slightly, about to reassure him, but Lewis's hand on her back stilled her.

"Y/n, don’t" he began, his voice thoughtful. "It’s not just about missing his first days. It’s the time you’ve had with him, but also the time he’s had with you."

She looked up at him, her brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Lewis let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. "I missed you, too. Not just the way I always miss you when I’m away, but I missed being a part of this routine. The bedtime, the little 'dates,' the way he clings to you... I missed seeing you with him, and I missed having you to myself after all that."

Y/n's heart softened at his words, a tender smile tugging at her lips. "Lew, you’re always part of those moments, even when you’re not physically here."

Lewis’s eyes met hers, full of emotion. "I know I was stupid earlier, but it's because I love being with you—both of you. And when I'm not, it feels like I'm missing out on so much. As his dad and as your partner."

Y/n’s smile widened as she shifted to lie more comfortably against him. "I missed you too. More than you know. And trust me, our little guy missed you like crazy, even if he didn’t show it."

Lewis chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "He’ll come around. I just have to remind him that I'm part of this whole 'special date' thing too."

"You will," Y/n assured him, brushing a soft kiss against his neck. "And as for us, we’ll make up for lost time."

He kissed the top of her head, his voice filled with affection. "You’re stuck with me, Mrs. Hamilton."

And as Y/n began to drift off to sleep, Lewis leaned into her hear, whispering almost to himself "I really did miss you. And I’m not going anywhere. Not for long anyway."

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robboyblunder · 1 month ago

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As promised I went ahead and continued my "ghoul guide" with a part 2 (part one linked in replies)! This one covers stuff specifically with a made up lore guide of in-world ghoul stuff as if they were a sort of unique magic entity.

This one wound up way longer and had to be split so expect a third final one eventually lmao. for now though... I'm gonna take a break and yell. Bonus extra info plus the transcript under the cut!

ID in ALT text!

Bonus note: While not portrayed in the guide, it’s important to know a detail about ghouls’ origin called “memory echoes”. While ghouls are formed from humans past who lose all memory of their previous self while maintaining an assumed personality from before, at times certain instances of events, actions, items, and otherwise can trigger these “echoes”. Echoes are very rare, but a valued treasure to ghouls; they make them feel more connected to their past and more “human”. Upon triggering an echo, a ghoul will become completely listless, unable to respond or react until the echo has completed, usually within seconds.

“Memory echoes” are described as blurry faded memories that often show featureless shapes and colors, but a very strong “feeling” of a Deja-vu of the moment. They feel viscerally real and can have a mix of the senses i.e. touch and smell, but produce no recognizable faces or imagery of the self. No ghoul has ever reported fully remembering one, nor any semblance of their true past beyond the haunting leftovers.

Begin Transcript:

A Compendium of Hell’s Derivates

While there are many theories on the demonic nature of ghouls,

The true source is surprisingly Human.

Souls cannot be recreated; rather, they’re Recycled and Reborn

The cycle of ghoul creation started for unknown reasons…

But one thing is Certain:

Natural forces do not change easily.

Raw elements collide with the fuel of life itself until one connects

by His command

A violent injection of pure elemental magic

Rewrites and erases all memory and one’s past, drastically altering the soul…

These new powers lend to the powerful allies of the ministry,

However….

… new powers are a dangerous toy.

While coined as “Feral”, new ghouls would better be designated “Raw”, “Unbound”, and “Lawlessly Dangerous”

First formed, they are still elements;

Torrential, Aimless,

Incapable of coherent thought or rules

-but with time, coherence returns to the individual

Who grows much like a life cycle’s stages without necessarily aging.

The overall cycle is the same per ghoul, yet varied enough each rises differently…

First form: “Raw” – Second form (1): “Feral” – Second form (2) – Third form: “Stabilized”

Catalyst, violent, poor formation – Unaware, wild, chaotic – Conscious; can act like oneself; less raw – fully formed and recognizable

The first form, “Raw”, is notably so violent the devil himself does not release them until stage two.

The second form in stage one of a “Feral” ghoul is much like the forces of nature; free willed and wild, understanding minimal speech.

Take caution: they can be mischievous and cause decent damage.

In the second stage of a “Feral” ghoul, they behave like typical people; however, they’re still very free and may choose to never fully stabilize.

Note: you can tell they’ve reached this stage by presence of a tail and civil habits.

If desired, a ghoul reaches the final form: “Stabilized”. They’re transformed into a stable humanoid body, a form less powerful but safer.

Note: Talented ghouls can change form at will in this stage between secondary Feral and Stable.

When it comes to location, each form is most likely to be found:

Raw: Hell, contained

Feral (Stage 1): wilds/natural areas

Feral (Stage 2): wilds and civil areas

Stabilized: anywhere people go

Seeing feral ghouls is not uncommon, and can even be considered lucky!

They tend to provide free protection to keep their home

Ghouls can only stabilize via ministry ritual;

One can assume they’re ministry members if stable, even off duty.

Ghouls are uncommon, but found most places if looked for;

This seems especially true near ministry placements.

Ghouls only form from adults and don’t “age” traditionally, yet they’re still mortal

Deceased ghouls do not seem to return or recycle.

Summoning intentionally pulls only second stage feral ghouls or stable ghouls from anywhere,

They don’t always like this however (see other guide).

The cycle of ghouls serves a main purpose – as forces for the Dark One, in return for rebirth

However, there are two channels through which they serve.

1) Natural defense against corrupted holy magic

Non-stable ghouls defend at will naturally where they live

2) training to fight, protect, and uphold the ministry’s efforts in the name of the Devil.

Contrary to belief, summonings cannot grab from “nothing”;

Like the creation of a ghoul,

Their element, once developed, is what becomes pulled by nature

The force of such pull is incredible,

A disorientating test of will so great…

…it can render even the most sound minds rather violent.

This is why while some choose to stabilize, others may not;

But should a mind change, they can be freed or re-summoned.

Alternative to wild summoning, one can summon from trained ghouls over feral;

Many ghouls are trained for ministry positions all over, but any can be summoned if unassigned.

Though stabilized, unassigned ghouls are not contractually bound to anyone until assigned.

They’re great for extra work hands and being able to know what kind of team mates you’ll get without leaving it to chance.

Summoning any ghoul however reverts them to feral form, and the challenge to tame them remains the same.

Just because you know a ghoul does not mean an easy summon.

Finally, be warned: forcing unwanted breaking or upholding of a summoning contract

Will have dire consequences.

Aside from rarity of an element, there are “power classes” within each element.

Tiers:

Rarity of an element does not equal strength.

The break down is as follows:

Rare – extreme and dangerous power. These ghouls earn a specialized title.

Quite strong, stand out in their class and very sought after.

Most common tier; average and decent powers that are expectable.

Weak powers, but some uses are applicable.

Uncommon – ghouls who possess little to no powers. Ghouls in this tier may at times suddenly change power tier without warning to any other category.

S-Tier ghouls are quite rare and a sight to behold- truly, they embody nature’s power.

End transcript.

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court-jobi · 2 months ago

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Meal Prep

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's works or the lovely art found here))

Pairing: Bakugo x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 5k

Rating: M | 18+ (begone, minor extras- it's too spicy for you, Kacchan says so)

Warnings: hand-holding sexy times, first time!Bakugou/reader, food and commitment as a love language, FEELINGS, accidental quirk use, pet names, piv smut, established relationship, wrap it up, this is fantasy

Summary:

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together. And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

A/N: It's spice, yall. Someone needs to rein their quirk in, and I'm not naming names (Katsuki Bakugou)

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

When Bakugou turned to his side -feeling the hand at his lower back- and went to lift you up on the counter for some kisses, something just... came over you.

Your moves were tame at first- rubbing his chest and shoulders at the moment’s reprieve. Just giving yourself sweetly into it. Now with his hands on you, he got really hard really fast, and made some quip about you getting fresh between shared ravishments of love.

Sure, you were biting at his lips longer than usual. Sure, you were hanging onto him in a manner far more codependent than you'd ever claim to be. By the look in his eye, he wasn't ever gonna be caught complaining, though. You’ve been stared at and longed after across any room you're in just as wantonly, and he's the first to second your opinion when it matters. He calls you every night he's away for missions, and stays his need to sleep just to be able talk to you while your time zones are flip-flopped.

Although, it was rather hungry of you to be so enamored by him today: where even the simplest conversation about the prices of strawberries going up made you fall slack into him.

He asks what brought this on~

"Just love having you here,” you surmised, “I– like not doing these things alone."

You’d made the economical offer to cook together and split the bills. Since your diets were fairly similar anyway, you might as well buy in bulk. He was in an indulgent headspace tonight, since he’d been laying on the pet names thick all day; this, his rare day off. Yours is tomorrow, but you were fortunate enough to get off at a decent hour to get the grocery shopping done early- with him.

– only Bakugou enforced a strict habit of insisting on taking care of the receipt at the store, but never letting you settle up your half. The ‘slip of the mind’ he suffered from the first time was no longer an accident, but a routine.

Now, two stacks of four portioned meals each lay side by side prepped in the fridge. Some additional protein packs top your stash to keep on hand between long night drives; small and compact, they help fuel you mid-mission so you don’t have another repeat of a blood sugar drop while enroute with a squad of heavyweight heroes making a cross-city trek. Bakugou preferred to pick out treats as a surprise in those meal kits. Trivial as gift giving goes, but it offers some enrichment to your otherwise predictable menu. You haven’t seen what he’d snuck in the cart underneath that bag of string beans this time, and just saw their packed away presence in the fridge, teasing you.

But back at the sink where he’d begun to wash up, you ignored their mystery. Now, you just wanted to show him how much he was appreciated.

Yes, something switched in your brain: making meals together, sharing cleanup duties, counting these little moments as blessings and feeling like life’s weight wasn't all just on you put you in a mood. You both might not have necessarily gotten too fresh before today, but this wasn’t simply a domestic dance with lust.

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s sharp and fast to stop you from doing something stupid, and was the loudest voice in the room when your top 20 ranking was announced across the agency conference table. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together.

And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you.

He wanted to show you he loved you; down to the grind of meal prepping on a Sunday night. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

Your adoring man nuzzles and talks to your neck, "Gettin' sappy again, angel."

He is down bad for you: no matter how sassy he makes the observation sound– that scratchy, rumble tone doesn’t help with your dizzying brain at all.

You offer up your neck a little, scratching along the base of his spine for full, soothing effect.

"Whass’wrong with that?"

Bakugou simply purrs back happily.

"Cuz if you start saying shit like that, I'mma start sayin' shit. Shit I won't be able to stop spewing once I start."

"Maybe I don't want you to stop."

He senses your heart peeking through your words. Your eyes carry the message loud and clear, too, though they’re having a hard time staying open from the headrush.

Lifting his heavy head, Bakugou studies you thoughtfully, before stepping into this soft side of yours.

"You don't want me to stop."

Of course you don’t, so you shake your head.

"You want me to stay."

Through a smile, you give your shy agreement.

Even more vulnerable, Bakugou’s rare touch of a smile makes its appearance,

"You want me to stay forever? Make sure my lady's fed and happy?”

"Yes," you sink into him, happier than ever.

"Looks like I'm staying then. Already made you dinner. Whaddya want me to do next?"

"Hmm– kiss me?"

Bakugou leans in to grant you your simple wish- but fully laps at your mouth instead. He means to entice, draw things out, make you want him that much more while giving himself nothing but torture at the same time. He’s used to making himself sweat; at least this was the fun simmer that didn’t burn.

The blonde moans low in his chest when you brush his cheek’s scar with your thumb.

"Whaddya want, pretty girl,” Bakugou scoops you in close, memorizing this hot look of need you’re having right in the middle of chores, “What, y’want me to kiss you forever too?"

Fixed on his lips -currently teased between his teeth- you give a rare curse that contrasted your sugar sweet demeanor,

“Hell yes--"

Kisses smash between you as sloppily as you want while he pulls you off the counter, over to the couch, and plops you on his lap, where you adjust to a squat over him and followed his persistent pull for you to sit.

Pink lovemarks all over your neck, Bakugou’s rough attentions drive his hands to go just about anywhere he wants in a need-driven frenzy. Whether to warm you up or keep himself from perspiring too much? Who's to say.

Suddenly as he growled out his pleasure at your hips fitting up upon his lap, Bakugou fisted your shirt in each palm– he tugs you deliciously tight as you kiss the daylights out of him.

Through his satisfied chuckles, he thought all was good until he started feeling some pops muffling in his hands.

Bakugou knows what's coming– it's the speed of this onset that freaks him out-

His senses shout at him lightning quick, so it's a miracle that Bakugou immediately threw his hands out, shooting off hot sparks with palms out towards the coffee table- spooking you into a yelp.

The panic settled just as soon as it came– you stared at each other after the round of pops stopped.

Somehow, you were never afraid he’d ever sweat to the point of harming you, so you rolled with it as if he didn’t just almost blow you to bits. Must just be excited.

Cheeky, you thumbed to your bedroom before mimicking a Dynamight-style ‘stressball’ in your palm.

"Need your gloves?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Fuck.... Fine."

As if a little coverage on his hands was going to be the end of the world.

"I could make a condom joke instead, so be grateful!~"

A pruned hand smacked your thigh in protest. “Har. Har.”

As you dismounted him (since you knew he was just gonna be pouty and sulk until he could touch you again), you pulled him up by his neckline so that he followed hungrily behind you and didn't cause a stink over it. In your room, you dug in his designated helmet for his gloves, which he roughly handled and donned while you rounded his strong set of shoulders and kissed him through it across the bits of skin you could reach.

"Can't believe I gotta put these fuckin’- things on- every time I get hot and fuckin' bothered-”

"We'll figure that out, honey. Hey,” you pull him up to your sightline, “You still got me?”

Gloved but no less handsome as ever, Bakugou looks far too dazed to try his hand at driving your bike. Better he crash here, with you. He grabs you close; his answer.

“-- then there’s no complaints here. It’ll work; for now."

He moans kind of high and happy into your kisses on his mouth again. The sound ripples in you, coaxing more love out from your needy fingers and gentle kneading and soft layers that he’s mad he couldn't reciprocate anymore. He voiced this displeasure when he tugged up on your thighs and tipped you onto the bed. Setting a knee between your thighs and capturing a hand in his to pin you, Bakugou firmed up his brows,

"Well, maybe I wanna feel you BACK, huh?"

"I get that, Katsu-honey~ we'll-- work on it. Learning curve."

One thing the Hero World would be fast to assume about Katsuki Bakugou is that he'd take whatever he wanted from someone making eyes at him; that he'd be dominant and mean and addictive and that one might regret pushing his buttons in the bedroom, because it would be far too much. ‘Better not test him, he’d be too rough.’ But you hardly think this way, as you have him here:

Here, you look up to him, lovesick and shy, pulling him down because he feels too far away. And tempered as he is when he's in deep, Bakugou reads you and quickly responds in kind. He does kneel over and meets your lips, but freezes like steel as he tries to figure out how to be close but not crush you, despite your yanking for it.

"Katsuki~~"

"I'm not dropping ninety-five kilos a’ dead weight on you, dummy,” he chortled, “Not gonna happen."

"But I want you~~"

"Oh, you want me, huh? Needy girl..." Pets caressing down your cheek, you cup your Katsuki’s arm instead as it trails gingerly down the neck, stopping at your collar, until you force it down its path more towards your chest, and lower.

His touch carries very little pressure. Rather, you see him just watching his own movements in a haze- "Pretty, pretty girl."

A thought crosses your mind and you feel confident; if you voice it, he’ll answer you honestly.

"Have you never dated anyone before, ‘Dynamight’?"

Without an immediate defense, you're happy to see he’s still letting you guide his hand to slide under your shirt collar and sift along your bra line.

Unphased, he answers a gentle -but surprising- ‘no’.

"No high school crushes?" you press, flattered.

"Tch, I went to UA. When would I have had time for that?" Bakugou slides your strap and shirt more to the side as he explores, then kisses the shoulder.

Breathy, you challenge after your happy hums. “Kirishima did..."

He only gave a bemused scoff.

“And look where that got him. Is he anywhere close to being #1?" asks the #5 ranked Pro Hero.

"No,"

Bakugou’s gloved palms have successfully reached your breasts, pulling the rest up and off with confidence now, eyeing over your skin deliciously.

"Guess who is?"

"Y-you~"

"Damn right." Bakugou licks and teases around the space your nipple would lie under the cup, "And y’know how I did it?"

Sights locked onto him, pulling other side down to sift your underclothes up to his gloved hand's touch.

"I'm a fast learner. That's how you get to be the best. Learn fast, do it right. Gets you results at the top of the board. I'm damn good at learning something I want; 'specially when that something's you."

You can’t keep quiet now. Not at this, your forever favorite Pro Hero undressing you with eyes and hands,

"Ugh God..."

His hands pawed at every bit of you.

"Name's Katsuki, Angel Eyes. But I'll answer to that if you want~"

Your sexy laugh turned to a moan as he sucked hard at your neck to please you, then worked on getting himself fully topless to match. Once laid back with a delightful little jiggle of everything wonderful, Bakugo's sight lay fixed on you, hands running everywhere he could reach now.

For once, he looked a little scattered, unsure what to do next besides pet you and breathe.

You teased a leg up his, and tried prying his hard shell open again, "There's no wrong way to play, y'know~"

"Heh?"

"You look like you're working-" you rubbed your own tits, a handful each, "-trying to figure out your next move. But really, there's no bad option. It's just me."

Understanding, he nodded, but still looked conflicted.

"And I don't bite, promise~" you tried for levity, finally making him chuckle a little and bring life to his smirk.

"Y'might as well, looking at me like that."

"What, this?" you kneaded and pushed your tits together.

"Fuck, me..."

"S'what I'm saying."

Then in a sweet move, Bakugou pulls you up to cradle you by your jawline and kisses you lovingly, then holds your foreheads in place while he takes a couple practiced inhales.

Beneath you, you see how excited he is, but also how tense his core has become. It ever so barely trembles.

A muted string of a confession leaves him,

"I talk big shit... but... never done this part." –this part being sex, you now gather- "Sue me if I'm tryna do right by you. I- feels like my heart's literally goin’ a mile a minute here, what the hell..."

"Mine too~" you run a soothing drag of your nails up his arms before smoothing up and over to his waist, "You are doing right by me, though~ just go with what feels right. I just want you, Kats."

"Yeah?"

"I want you,” you assure him with charged-up love and desire for him, “-so bad."

That was seemingly all he needed to clear his head because he fell right down to you, crawling beside you and scooping you up into his arms where he could trail his hand all up the expanse of your back. Somewhere in there, he slipped off your pants and took the chance to feel all up and down your legs with greedy chuckles.

He'd moan what a gorgeous sight and gentle thing you were, his mouth leaving no limb untouched or unpraised. He's also high on the attention you gave him right back, especially when you tipped him onto his back and kissed along the lines of his chest. Bruises and dips mark up his otherwise perfect skin, but you're pleased to have your Katsuki enjoying this if his sighs are any indication of his arousal.

Bakugou quirks a brow as he settles back, preparing for you to mount and have your way with him. Consent is king and he doesn't wanna force you to be in a position you don't want.

“Y’want me here?” he asks with hands supporting your waist. “Show me how it's done?”

The sight below you has you ready to pass out on the spot. He’s handsome and horny and all yours.

"Ready when you are~"

The line between Dynamight and the man behind the title is blurred as he settles into a cocky smirk. He's proud and never one to shy away from attention- not even this, so it seems.

Bakugou chips his chin up at you with his full support.

"Atta girl~"

You whimper when you grind on top of him at first: not simply at how hot the first pass is for you after so long, but how wrecked Bakugou looks as he exhales with force. It's an effort to will himself still, and you love the look of it on him.

Pride surges in you as you sway yourself over him, checking him over and making sure he's comfortable.

“You got me?”

His sights open again, to you in all your glory. Any edge he carries in his waking hours is gone as he's let comfort and ease take the wheel over his nervous system.

Bakugou is pretty damn adorable this way, but you'd only ever say so when he's fully confident- not out on a limb trying something this new with you for the first time. Here, you'd build up his confidence and see how he rises to the challenge. But you’ll go slow, above all else.

Fingers find renewed life as he squeezes you,

“I got you,” he says in wonder, getting there, “I gotcha."

But right before you lifted up to let him shove his waistline down, he stopped you from sitting with a hard hand at your tummy. In a quick switch, he's cursing nervously about needing to wrap it up.

Before he could toss you off, you brought his face back to you with a tender hand, keeping him from getting up altogether and bolting for his bag slung somewhere in the kitchen.

"I'm covered on that front, hon,” you stifle any laughing at his earnest pursuit, “Planned a bit ahead- got in with the nurse a few months back."

Bakugou stills, but then his confusion and concern give way to something deeper. He’s looking at you, awed.

"You're on it-?"

"Mhm. I'm all set, baby. There's no one else, just– just you. I won't stop ya if you'd feel better with one on, just wanted you to know. "

Fondness for the hero-turned-friend-turned-lover made you rake your fingers through that mess of blond hair you daydream of petting and bringing out a groan from him all by yourself,

"However you want me: inside or out~"

Recognition heats him up more, "You sexy, fuckin' girl..."

Catching you back in his arms, Bakugou falls in love all over again. He’s sinking into you sideways, hiking your leg up and over his hip and just holding you close– your man is all in for this the moment he's submerged in you.

"FUUUUUuuuuuck yehehehess…”

You're overwhelmed and giddy and full, and find that it's not just you who's laughing by the time you make eye contact. It's thrilling and perfect that you're here -doing it- and you’re obsessed with how close you two are in this moment that it makes your relief palpable and light-hearted.

After heated kisses to get him to actually start moving, you're turning every laugh into a love-filled moan: a sound that Bakugo chases with everything in him.

Eventually the momentum is like a run, fueling him with the more he hears, and is soon tipping you back to settle on top himself-- in charge and letting you take backseat. By how you gawk up at the show of strength, it’s more than alright with you~

"Oh my God, yes sir!!" you squeal seeing him in charge.

"Yeah? Like this, pretty girl?” Bakugou is in his element, despite having just joined the party moments ago, “Y’like your ‘Backpack’ on top, makin sure you don't move a fuckin’ muscle?"

Each huff and moan he makes glues your sights to the spot- head dipping to where you are slamming together, which only makes him ramp it up even more to give you a show.

‘Yeah yeah yeah-- oh FUCK, why haven't I gotten my head out of my ass sooner, you are FUCKING incredible!--’

The sounds Bakugou’s making are passionate and raw, even more so as you're close and you tell him so through near tears. You’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast for you- but then why wouldn't you when the sight of the love of your life is rocking your world off its hinges and sending you into the best headspin?

"Do it baby, do it do it do it~" he growls the freedom deliciously to you– so you will your hand to let go of the comforter and start rubbing your clit wildly to get you over the edge, till you're bucking up and siezing through relieved sobs.

Bakugou almost damn near chokes on his own shock at the feel, yet only slows a little bit while he holds you down, holds you through it. Once you’re reaching up for his shoulders again -your cue that you're ok and settled - he dives down to your level for some hard kisses as a reward.

Somehow he breaks from the haze of you deliriously giggling for him soon enough, gasping out desperate lines that nearly made your heart explode– all while going right back to fighting like mad to go over the edge like you did.

“Fuck, I love you.. fuck, I love you, fuck fuck fuck–”

The closer he gets, the hand pinning yours to the bed starts to burn– which takes your attention.

From watching him fuck you to check your joined wrists is more urgent: Bakugou’s forearm is trembling and visibly sweating all down to the cuff absorbing the rest.

Pretty much sobered you right up by the incoming pain, you're surprised, but you fake it in your bliss and rush him along anyway, until he cries out and shudders into your neck as he finishes– kissing it lightly in thanks muttering all sorts of nonsense you couldn't make out once he sinks onto you- spent.

“Fun, right baby?”

Bakugou’s grunting at every little move of his body.

“S’... M’dizzy,” he rasps, “S’it always dizzy?”

Under a spell yourself, unearth some spare sass n’ sweetness from your back pocket,

“When it's good,” you give your valid opinion, your free hand making your mark along his arm to settle him down, “when they listen to what you need, n’ when they can provide- even before any clothes come off. I find it best that way, that is…”

Bakugou’s head lolls to the side, pressing a kiss to the tender space just in front of your ear.

“That it is…”

Your palm is pulsing. Hot. But still, you let him find rest, wondering more if he was ok since he was never EVER this gushy, but as his release turned into relieved laughs, Bakugou bridged over you to blow your hair back with a playful gust of his lips and gave you some more indulgent kisses. Sweet as ever, you kissed him back and pressed into his thumb working over your still joined hands.

"You like me~" you taunted.

"huh?~~”

"Y’said you loved me..."

Katsuki giggled, "Shuddup, dummy."

This prompted your tug to free your hand again, hissing when he released and revealed your palm: tinged with an onset of a blister, splotchy with heat–

"THE FUCK??!!” Bakugou noticed the damage himself, “DAMMIT, why didn't you SAY I was cooking you alive??"

At his apology ridden eyes, you didn't want this hiccup to stall the moment you'd just shared. Flexing each of your hands easily, you shook off any look of pain and beamed up at him instead.

"You weren't! It just got a lil hot~" he looked at your face again, confused as to why you're not upset at his repeat offense, "BBQ, amiright?"

Your no-longer sweetheart growls down at you, textbook Bakugou BiteTM. "NOT. funny."

You laughed at the nature of it all.

"I'm ok, baby. Whew... Oh my God~"

Your relief is something fuzzy and delighted to you, but knowing how your darling Katsuki gets in his own head about how fiery his quirk can be, you give him a little wink to quell any fears.

It works, as your assurances always do. He admires your sated bones and lays another sloppy smooch on you. A silent promise; he’ll take a look at your hand in a bit.

In moving up your body to reach his shirt to wipe himself with, he slipped out, still hot and heavy (given that he came already) and undeniably turned on- even in this state. You cringed at the mess hitting the cooler air. Hearing your complaint, Bakugou pecked your cheek and nuzzled you back adoringly.

"Love you, angel.”

"I love you too~" your easy reply passes your lips wistfully.

A dry ache in his chest, he made to rise and see about getting you two a little more comfortable, feeling that same wetness too and grumbled about washing his damn hands, but you stopped him with a little whine.

"Stay~~"

Crimson eyes softening to yours, the boyish charm returns to Bakugou’s otherwise stoic demeanor. It's a sign he’s clearly plagued in an afterglow buzz.

"Cmon, lemme clean us up. I need the fan on."

Even colder? Darn his body temp. "Nnng.."

He gets up anyway, but promises his return with a chip to your chin, "I'll stay, gorgeous. Told you so. I'll stay as long as you want tonight."

When he came back with the wet washcloth, he coaxed you to stand on your own and go take care of yourself, too. The top sheet is changed and re-tucked in before you got back– mismatched from what remained on the bed before, but you didn't really care.

He’s made himself comfortable in the bed, only slipping on his boxers you can barely catch the edge of from the sheet in his lap. It’s only made you fold all over again- proof that your boyfriend knows where you keep your spare sheets in the first place.

You slipped on a fresh pair of panties in your pit stop, but went hunting for your loose shirt again, not bothering with anything under. This got Bakugo's attention seems,

"What, you cold?"

"Little bit~"

"M’over here, then," he patted his chest, you joined him, only to have him sneak his arm under your shirt and tease your tits again, "Don't see why you need this shitty thing while I'm around, just gettin' in my way.."

Giggling and sinking into him, you couldn't fault him. He did have to stay gloved for so long earlier. You laid a kiss straight on his cheek while he had his fill of you.

"Happy girl?" he sings down to you.

Happy girl indeed. "Mhm~ Happy Murder God?"

"Heh-yeah,” Bakugou schooled his breaths to sync to you, “I could get used to this."

"We'll figure out the glove thing."

"...M'sorry for almost toasting you.”

“Eh- I can handle a little snap-crackle-pop.”

Bakugou snorts, tapping out the jingle beat for ‘rice crispies’ on your shoulder. All's forgiven on that front.

“Really shoulda thrown those in the washer," he grimaced above you, looking over at the door where he set them back with his riding gear.

"We'll get it later," You snuggled down in his arms, happy to take his leftover heat. “Washer’s all yours~”

"Yeah. Yours is better than mine anyway,” Bakugou leans his head fully back onto your propped up pillows. A contented sigh forces the rest of his muscles to lax. “--piece of crap rattles like it's about to blow up. Yer dishwasher’s better too.”

As he chatters away, he played with the ends of your hair absently.

“I thought you were my dishwasher?”

Bakugou pauses his twirls, “Oi, I never said I was signing up for that! I was bein’ nice.”

“Yes, you were~” you kissed his neck to force his rising growl down. Works every time. You're back to snuggling in his arms with a contented sigh. “I’ll do them next time.”

“If you’re fast enough, slowpoke, then sure.”

You can barely make out your washer thrumming in the next room as well as the even more distant smooth jazz channel streaming from the living room, but remembered your earlier mindset and just hugged him tighter.

This, you'd certainly miss when he went home tonight. Feeling this close, this warm together, having shared something really special and intimate that you couldn't take back for the life of you. It might make things even worse when it comes to your attachment to him– you two are pushing it at the agency with minimal touches unless there's something really scary that forces his walls down in order to comfort you- or vice versa. After all, your affinity for one another is no one’s business but your own… but you typically are satisfied by his more public ties to you in all the ways that matter- mostly to others in your circle and strangers who he threatens to kick if they keep starin’ at you.

But here, Katsuki holding you is second nature. His true nature. He tells you he cares with every returned text, knowing look, and tender touch he keeps limited in shared company- with you as the sole recipient.

You can only wish this could be your life everyday. Where you can maybe even start your own agency down the line somewhere; Japan’s first true power couple who can take names like none other. Launch yourselves higher and higher, work yourselves out of a job, and take a retirement in whatever way looks best for you–

When you get quiet in your thoughts, he even knows your 'hiding' tell. Your pillow tilts down to try and get your attention, finally demanding your eyes with a question laced with clear thinking,

"You meant stay stay,” Bakugou asked gently, “-didn't you. Not just- for the night.”

You softened… nodding ever so much. Leaving room, in case he didn't agree.

What you wouldn't give for him to be your meal prep partner till you both retire from hero work- and then some.

Either nothing went through his mind, or one singular anthem bounced around in there, because all Bakugou did to your little melting expression was kiss you softly, turning you back into the bed, and flopping solidly on top of your chest.

"...gimme 30 minutes. Then let's go get my shit. I call the front room work table."

You're over the moon, and your jaw drops on its own. He’s so ready- barely even thought it through! Or maybe… he was always thinking of it, and was waiting on you.

With that excitement flooding you, you peppered his hair full of kisses until he groaned for you to stop– only after the first ten...

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo smut #spicy dynamight

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wannaeatramyeon · 2 months ago

Text

Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 1

Part 2! G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

"How old are you?"

"20."

Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.

"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"

You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.

It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.

"I'm 20." He deadpans.

Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."

Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.

And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.

"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-

To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty.

He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.

Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.

"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.

"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-

There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."

Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.

You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.

He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.

Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.

Which unfortunately has not happened yet.

With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.

You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.

Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.

It's impressive how studious he is.

In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.

Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.

You type out a direct message to the only person you know.

You: I missed that, what did she just say?

Gun: You should have been paying attention.

You: Fuck you man!

You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.

He smirks.

That night he kicks your ass again.

Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.

If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.

You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.

Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-

Hold on.

You double, triple-take-

Is that?

It must be.

Shit.

It's fucking Gun Park.

You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-

He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.

"Y/N."

"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.

He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.

Fuck.

Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.

It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.

After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.

The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.

It’s utterly charming.

Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.

Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-

Wait. You squint at the picture.

Is this guy for real?

"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.

He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.

Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."

He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.

"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

Even without a seating plan, one forms.

Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.

You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.

No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.

Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.

Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.

What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.

If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.

Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.

He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.

Alright then.

Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.

He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.

You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.

"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.

"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."

He arches a brow at your words.

"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."

There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.

Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.

You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.

A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.

He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.

"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.

Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.

He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.

Of course it would be from there.

The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!

"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.

Of course he would also be a coffee snob.

You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.

You think that's an insult.

"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?

You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad

Gun: None of your business

You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then

Gun: They are not-

Gun: Whatever

You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible

Gun: I know

You: Who’s Goo anyway?

Gun: …

Gun: No-one

You: Suuuure

You: Tekken tonight?

Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?

You: >:(

You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?

Gun: Ok

Gun: Thanks for your help

You: :)

Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.

You: Spoken like a coward!

Gun: Dumbass

You: Hey!!

Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.

You: Does it have to be an espresso?

Gun: Yes

You: …Thanks

To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.

It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.

What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.

However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.

Strange, very strange.

You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.

"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.

"... Everything ok?"

It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.

He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.

At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.

"Are you interested in Tekken?"

"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?

"Then meet me. After class."

"Where? Here?"

"No. At mine."

"Where's that?"

"..."

He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.

Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.

You nod along, thinking what is with this guy.

So firstly, what the fuck.

Then secondly, what the fuck.

Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.

You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.

You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated.

Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?

Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?

"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.

"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.

He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.

"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.

Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.

It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.

Apart from that, it's barely a home.

"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.

"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.

'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.

"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.

He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers.

“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.

Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.

Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more.

He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.

Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.

If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.

You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.

You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring.

Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.

"Holy shit, I won!"

You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.

Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.

You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.

What you do find is-

Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.

Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.

And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-

(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.

It sinks in.

The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.

From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)

Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.

"Yes. The best."

You think it's a lie, an embellishment.

But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.

(Update! Part 2 here!)

#lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

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luxaofhesperides · 4 months ago

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a safe place to rest - duke

(part 3 of the harmless series)

Although he hears about the baby, Duke doesn't get to meet her for a few days.

He does meet someone else though: Danny.

"You need anything before I go?"

He doesn't want to leave Danny alone in the Hatch. Not out of mistrust or anything, but because he's sure that the moment he looks away, Danny's going to disappear again. It took so long just to convince him to take a moment to breathe, to rest and recover from whatever he's gone through.

There's a frantic sort of energy surrounding Danny that has his aura all messed up, which is the only reason Duke decided against letting anyone else know that he found Danny.

He got the basic rundown from the night shift, but he hadn't had time to look more into it before Danny was crashing into him during his day patrol, eyes wide and wild and looking like his world had just ended.

"You," Danny had gasped, "You're with—Batman? Please, take these." And he shoved a bag against Duke's chest.

He had to react fast to grab it, and then grab Danny when he all but collapsed against him.

Now, he sits on top of the spare bed Duke set up in the Hatch, pale and tired and quietly devastated. "I'm fine," he insists. "You don't need to do anything for me."

Duke frowns. "Uh, I absolutely do, you think I'm just gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Come on, man, that's not how I do things."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Obviously not. It's not about owing things. I'm doing this because you need help and I can give it."

"I can take care of myself," Danny says firmly, and Duke holds back a sigh. Yeah, this guy really is Batman's kid. Horrible self-care habits and all.

"You don't gotta, though. You get that, right? You can take one day off and just rely on me to take care of you until you're back on your feet."

"No."

Duke tries to shove his emotions down, to stay neutral and calm. This is a guy who came crashing into their lives, shoving a baby into Damian's arms, and then vanishing. This is a guy who's gone through way too much on his own. Of course he's not going to trust anyone. Duke knows well how heavy everything becomes when it feels like the world's against him. He can give Danny grace.

"Okay. Just so you know, I'm asking to be polite. I'm still going to grab some extra clothes for you, and a homemade meal, so you just stay here and get some sleep. We'll talk more when I get back from delivering all this to Batman." He lifts the bag Danny gave to him for emphasis, then pins the guy down with a hard stare. "You better be here when I get back, or I am going to have no one to show baby pictures to."

"…You're gonna check on Ellie?"

The clear concern and desperation in Danny's expression make him soften. "Yeah, man. I'll check on her and let you know how she's doing. That's why you gotta be here when I get back. Got it?"

Danny bites his lip, then nods slowly. "Yeah. Got it. Thank you."

"Get some sleep."

Duke pulls the door shut, setting the alarm system to quietly alert him if anyone goes in or out while he's not in the Hatch. There's a first aid kit on the table and some water bottles as well, but it's not going to be enough to really help Danny start to recover. Duke takes a moment to curse his past self for not better stocking his crash room for emergency visitors, but in his defense, he isn't in the habit of bringing anyone back to the Hatch, not even other Bats, when the Batcave is more suited for handling lots of people.

Well, it's something to work on in the future.

He doesn't get more than a few steps away when he hears the door opening behind him and looks back to see Danny poking his head out.

"Hey, before you go…"

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Can you maybe not tell anyone I'm here? I'm assuming you know who I am, since you know Ellie."

"Yeah, your Batman's first lost kid, right? Trust me, I've heard of you."

Danny winces. "Great. Figures. I just really need to not deal with all of them right now, so if you could keep all this quiet…"

Duke looks him over, takes in the paleness of his skin, how worryingly thin he is, the dark half-moons stamped under his eyes, and promptly decides then and there that the rest of the world is going to have to go through him to even think about going near Danny. It's a complicated situation he's in and if he needs time to prepare himself for meeting everyone else, who Duke knows from personal experience can be a lot, then Duke is going to make sure he has all the time he needs.

"You got it man. They won't hear a thing about this from me. I'll lock everyone else out of here, too, so you can rest easy. They ain't getting in here to bother you while I'm still around."

"Thank you," Danny says again, sagging against the doorframe. "I'm… I really need to sleep."

"Go crash," Duke says softly. "I can take care of things until you wake up."

Bruce is the only person in the Batcave when Duke arrives. He's bent over the Batcomputer, head in his hands, when Duke parks his motorcycle and heads for the stairs to meet him on the upper level. He keeps his footsteps purposefully loud so Bruce can track him as he makes his way over, Danny's bag slung over his shoulder.

"Rough night?" he asks, just to get the conversation started.

"Yes," Bruce sighs. "There have been a number of—changes."

"Oh. Good changes or bad changes?"

Bruce lifts his head as he considers the question, then rubs his temple. "Unclear. It's nice to see everyone working together for Ellie, but I'm—concerned."

"About what?"

"About Ellie. And everyone. And Danny."

Duke leans his weight against the desk and lets the bag drop off his shoulder, then holds it out to Bruce. "Well. I dunno if this will make things any better, but Danny threw this at me while I was on patrol. I took a quick look through it and, uh. It's kinda rough. It's what he went through and how Ellie was created."

Bruce snatches the bag from his hand and immediately begins rooting through it. "Is Danny—?"

"He vanished as soon as I grabbed the bag. I think he's got a few loose ends to tie up before he feels comfortable being here again."

"What did you think of him?"

Duke looks at Bruce, looks at the papers in his hands, and thinks of Danny. "I think he needs someone in his corner. I think we gotta lot to do to make the world safer for him and Ellie. I think he's been scared for a very long time."

Nothing in Bruce's expression changes, and there's no shift in his aura, his emotions tightly locked up as always. But Duke hasn't gotten this far without learning how to see the little things: Bruce's grip on the bag tightens, his feet shift farther apart, as though he's ready to leap up at a moment's notice, and his shoulders slump just slightly under the heavy weight of all the things he refuses to share.

Sighing, Duke tilts his head to look at Bruce more closely. "Why are you down here? It's the middle of the day."

"I'm researching."

A hand loosely gesturing to the large screen of the Batcomputer has Duke turning to see what Bruce has been so occupied with.

It's not case files, as he expected. It's not even research into Danny and what happened to him.

All that's there is PDFs upon PDFs of child psychology papers and essays on recovering from trauma and research on various methods to help children with failure to thrive and malnutrition and neglect.

There's also, in one window, different safety ratings of baby cribs.

Well. Let it be known that Bruce's love language is information.

"Cool. Have you spent any time with anyone since a baby got dropped in your lap?"

Bruce's silence is extremely telling.

Duke briefly considers trying to get Bruce to go upstairs, but he knows better than to pick a losing battle. Especially after he's handed him information on Danny.

At some point, Bruce will have to go upstairs, if only to eat. He's getting old, and his body can't quite keep going like it used to. Duke will let him deal with the consequences of his own actions, or lack of action, when that time comes. He's not a mediator or peace-keeper. Duke has other pressing matters to attend to.

Taking pictures of the baby for Danny is definitely more important than navigating the minefield of family tensions and miscommunications ever present with the Waynes.

Duke reaches out and claps a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Don't get so caught up in getting all the pieces together that you forget to actually spend time with family. They're gonna need you now more than ever," he says, and waits until Bruce meets his eyes and gives a resolute nod before Duke stands and heads for the stairs that will take up him to the manor.

The sooner he gets back to Danny, the better.

Ellie is cute.

This isn't a surprise. Most babies are cute, and Ellie is no exception.

What Duke hadn't been expecting is how protective Damian is of her, or how everyone else orbits around the two, just on the edge of hovering. Damian's prickly personality is well known, so the rest of the Waynes have taken to acting like cats: always on the same floor, ready to pop in should they be needed, but otherwise out of sight.

"Thomas," Damian greets quietly. Ellie is asleep in the baby wrap keeping her secure against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Damian lowers his paintbrush, turning to give Duke his full attention.

Duke takes a hesitant step into Damian's studio, then walks up to him once he isn't hissed at to leave.

"So this is our newest troublemaker, huh?" he says, looking down at Ellie. "How's she doing?"

She's so small. Her head has some black hair on it, but it barely covers her ears.

Damian lays his brush down on the easel. "She's doing much better now that she's getting regular meals and care. She still doesn't make much noise. It is… concerning."

The raw fear and care in his gaze is what makes the words tumble out of Duke's mouth. "I have some news about Danny."

If anyone deserves to know about him, it's his little brother.

Damian's gaze snaps up to Dukes, a fierce light in them, and his hands raise to hold Ellie tightly. "What is it?"

"He gave me a bag while I was patrolling, then left. I looked through it before giving it to B, and it's all… I only read the papers, not anything on the flashdrives, but Danny went through some awful shit. He was captured and experimented on by some group called NOVA. They had him for some time doing tests before he was put in isolation for acting out. And then he kinda… went into a death-like stasis. They did more tests and took some bio-material from him to try to figure out how he was surviving in stasis, and used that to make Ellie with the genes of one of the other captured metas. Danny was in stasis for around seven years."

Reading about it, learning about what Danny went through made Duke's stomach turn. It was like something out of a nightmare. Duke knows the fears metas have to live with; he carries it too, a weight he can never put down.

There's a reason civilian metas try to keep their powers a secret. Metas go for a high price on the black market, are at a higher risk of human trafficking, are seen as the best test subjects by unethical scientists wanting to find some way to replicate those powers in other people or in weapons.

Summarizing the horrors Danny had to experience leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. The silence in the studio stretches long enough for Duke to regret opening his mouth. Damian's still a teenager. He may have had a different upbringing and be able to stomach what most people can't, but this is still his brother. Anyone would be rattled hearing about this.

Then, without a word, Damian stands. He storms out of the studio, leaving Duke to catch the stool he was sitting on before it hits the ground and wakes Ellie.

When he goes to catch up with Damian, the kid is already walking into another room, tension in every line of his body.

"Richard," he snaps quietly, and Duke watches as Dick pops up from where he was lounging on the floor on one of the softest rugs in the manor.

"Dami? What's wrong?"

Damian doesn't answer, just unwraps the baby sling and carefully passes a still sleeping Ellie over to Dick.

"Damian," Dick tries again, his voice hardening, demanding an answer even as he adjust Ellie in his arms to make sure she can continue sleeping comfortably.

"I need to speak with Father," Damian answers shortly. "I will be gone for some time. I am entrusting her to you."

Dick glances at Duke, who tries not to look too stressed or tense. He doesn't think it works.

Reaching out, Dick puts a hand on Damian's head, managing to ruffle his hair for a few seconds before Damian steps away, batting at his hand with a scowl. "Alright," Dick says, "But I'm sending someone to get you for dinner if you're not back by then."

Damian nods, then turns on his heel and leaves for Bruce's office.

Neither of them move until they're sure that Damian is out of earshot.

"What was that about?" Dick asks, lowering himself down onto the rug again, one hand rubbing small circles against Ellie's back.

Duke sighs. "You'll find out soon. Just... chill for now and let me get some cute baby pictures."

Dick, as he finds out, is actually pretty good at helping Duke get the cutest pictures of Ellie.

And when Ellie blinks her little blue eyes open, Duke's heart melts and he understands how she's got everyone wrapped around her fingers.

NOVA, whatever remains of them, is going to regret ever hurting Danny and Ellie.

Danny is asleep when Duke returns. He sleeps through the night, and when Duke wakes up early the next morning to make sure he hasn't disappeared, Danny remains motionless in his bed.

Is he in stasis again? Duke wonders, panicked, as he rushes into his crash room and gently shakes Danny, trying to wake him up.

It takes a few tries before Danny lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat. He turns his face into the pillow, then abruptly tenses up and shoots out of bed. In a blink, Danny's on the other side of the room, flying up to the ceiling where Duke can't easily reach him.

Hands up, palms open, Duke says, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. How're you feeling?"

Danny sucks in a few deep breaths before he slowly floats down to the floor. His eyes are still too wide and there's a faint tremble in his hands. "Fine," he answers blankly.

"Up for eating something? I did promise you food and baby pictures."

Unsurprisingly, it's the mention of Ellie that gets Danny moving and brings some light back to his eyes. He follows Duke out into the main room of the Hatch. There's not really a kitchen in here, but there is a fridge and a microwave, which is enough for now.

One of his workstations has been cleared off and now has chairs around it to turn it into a makeshift dining table. On it, Duke's left a tupperware of French toast, made the way he remembers his dad making them when he was a kid, and as well as a store-bought container of cut fruit.

It's not really a lot, but it's what he could do on a short notice.

Danny takes a seat, and Duke settles in on the other side of the table, pulling out his phone to flip through the many pictures he took of Ellie.

Duke keeps up a light commentary as Danny slowly eats, sharing little stories about the Waynes and all the nonsense they get up to. That turns into sharing stories about the stupid shit he and his friends gets into, followed by some of the weirdest things criminals have done to try to get away from him, including the one that said 'nuh-uh!' when Duke said carjacking is the lamest crime to commit in Gotham.

That story gets Danny to smile, and it takes way too much effort to keep from celebrating it.

All the while, Danny slowly looks through each photo of Ellie, making sure she's okay. He looks so fond and sad that it's breaking Duke's heart, and he swears to himself then and there that he's going to do whatever he can to reunite them.

"Don't you have hero things to do?" Danny asks. It's the first thing he's said since they both sat down.

Duke shrugs. "Nah, not right now. Gotham can wait. You're my priority right now."

"You don't have to—"

"Nope. If you don't want anyone else to know you're here, then you're gonna have to deal with me."

Danny squints at him. "You're both very chill and very stubborn."

"It's the only way I was able to survive working with the other Bats."

"They sound… interesting."

"You can say they're a hot mess," Duke laughs. "But hey, who isn't?" He watches as Danny pushes around the last half of the French toast around the tupperware and straightens up from where he was leaning on the table. "Want me to put that up for you? You can finish it later."

Danny looks down at his plate, then slowly nods. "Yeah. Sorry."

"No worries. You went through some shit. It's not surprising that you don't have much of an appetite." Duke reaches over the table to pop the lid back on the tupperware, then stands to put it in the fridge.

When he turns back, Danny is no longer visible.

Or, at least, his physical body isn't visible. Duke can still easily see his aura, a vibrant green that has streaks of white moving through it like a current of water, which leaves an outline of his body. Danny is also trying to sneak out of the Hatch.

"Oh," he says, "I didn't know you had invisibility. That's pretty cool. I can still see you, by the way."

Danny becomes visible again, glaring at Duke.

"That's such a Batman move," Duke grins, "I should have expected it."

"What was a Batman move?"

"Sneaking away as soon as I turned around. B does that all the time with the Commish. And everyone else, honestly. Though, to be fair, we all do it because we all learned from him. Yeah, you'll have no trouble fitting in with us."

"I don't think what I'm doing should count, since I'm using powers."

"Dude, watch this."

Duke makes sure Danny's looking at him, then bends the light around him to hide him from view. He can see the exact moment Danny realizes he's vanished when his eyes go wide and he takes a few steps closer.

"Signal?"

"Still here," Duke reassures. "Haven't moved an inch." Then he releases his grip on the light around his head, a fun little trick he figured out a few years ago that makes it look like he's a floating, decapitated head. The goons always love that one.

Danny looks at his head. Looks at his invisible body. Then looks back to his head. "That is freaky," he says, a slow smile dawning across his face. "I can do that too."

And sure enough, Danny's body becomes invisible, save for the outline of it in his aura, and now there's just two floating heads in the Hatch.

He's not sure who cracks first, but in no time, they're laughing like everything's alright. Danny's expression brightens and suddenly he's years younger, all the stress falling off his shoulders in the face of their mirth. Like this, he could be any other guy in one of Duke's classes, talking nonsense just to pass the time, quick to laugh and without a care in the world.

This is what he wants for Danny.

This ease, this calm, this lightness in his heart: Duke will keep them safe for Danny.

If nothing else, Duke can be a safe place to land for another meta who needs, more than anything, someone willing to be there for him.

(masterpost for all parts)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #demon brothers #the harmless series #dcxdp #dpxdc #dcxdp fic #my writing #can u tell i love duke #didnt mean to make this ghostlights flavored but i cant help myself theyre just too good #slowly building in more things... NOVA and dannys powers and bat dynamics.....#there is MUCH more to come i promise #this little series is a challenge to write as many povs as possible #there will be some repeats but im gonna try to keep that only to danny and damian

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baby-tini · 3 months ago

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I really like imagining Chuuya to be just. Such a gentleman. To the point of it almost being cheesy and old fashioned, but it's not because it's him doing it. He tries not to curse around you because "you're a lady" but then spews absolute filth when you're fucking. Also doesn't mind if you speak crassly, he can't, he's the man here, he should show restraint. Early on, he uses honorifics with you until you explicitly state that he can drop them, always takes his hat off in your presence if you two are alone, always pays for everything (he's got a thing for that one in particular) etc.

I'm also really into the whole him basically being your bodyguard when ya'll are out thing, but it's subtle (Of course, he has a gun in his waistband, but that's to be expected) I'm talking the sidewalk rule, always the sidewalk rule, I'm talking opening doors, I'm talking constantly surveying his surroundings for potential threats or exits, giving death glares to guys who stare just a bit too long and then turning back to you with a smile as you continue to ramble on whatever it is you're talking about (he loves it, it's so cute), When he has the time and if you two aren't living together, he's coming over to fix shit. Kitchen cabinet closes weirdly? Car needs repearing? Heavy furniture needs to be moved? He's on it. Why would you pay some dickhead who's probably gonna fuck it up anyway to do it when he can?

It's the same in the bedroom. A giver through and through. Just wants to make you feel good, wants to get you cockdrunk and limp, to overwhelm you with pleasure, to bruise your cervix, you feel so good to him, it strokes his ego to see you fall apart all because of him, because of his mouth and fingers and dick.

I was very tempted too keep this to myself, too think about it constantly- cause that's all I've been doing with this post. I don't think I've seen a better characterization of Chuuya, this is literally perfect. Also the "you're a lady" thing made me think of this.

Chuuya is a gentleman at heart, he was taught too treat women like royalty, seeing as though, he was basically raised by a woman, Kouyou. Chuuya, I agree, is pretty old-fashioned, he definitely comes off as that old-fashioned mobster that you see in movies. But when it comes too how he acts, he is literally the inspiration for the cheesy male role in rom-coms. As for his curing.. we all know that he does that a lot, it's a pretty nasty habit of his that he won't break anytime soon, but he tries, especially for you, because you're too pretty too hear the utter filth coming out of his mouth, but you don't mind and he knows you don't mind especially when his cock is fucking into you. Leaving you breathless, unable too speak from just how good he feels inside of you. His gruff voice in your ear, telling you how good you feel- how good you make him feel. He's so soft with you though, careful not too be too harsh because even if you do like it rough, he's never left bruises on you; ever. Sure, he never leaves you unsatisfied, never- not once. Because bruises are for him too deal with, they're for him too come home with. They shouldn't even be spotted on your soft skin, the thought of it makes him upset. But, yes, he'll pull out your chair at the restaurant, open the door for you. Also the paying for you is such a him thing, because he makes more then enough money for you too spend he just has so much, why would you spend your hard earned money when he has loads for you too spend on whatever the fuck it is that you want.

He knows that his job in the mafia is dangerous, and you could be hurt just by association and he can't have that, and as much as he'd like too just relax and have a good time with you, he knows that's not the most achievable especially given his high ranking position of being an executive. His eyes are constantly shooting left and right, checking for any suspicious behavior coming from anyone, or anything that just looks a little too out of place. Now, Chuuya doesn't really need a gun, sure he keeps one in the drawer next to the side of your guys shared bed, but a gun would poke out a little too much for his liking, so that's where his ability comes in, he also, canonly, has a knife on him, at basically all times, so you can rest assured that you are very safe. Now I do like the sidewalk rule. Because he would!!! He doesn't even let you think about walking close to the road, you stay near the wall, and if you're someone that tends too drift as you walk, maybe can't walk in straight line, that's fine because he'll just move your you to the side by your hips- or even better, he'll hold your hand so you don't stray too far. He also lays on the side of the bed that's closest to the door, so if there is a problem he can just quickly jump up and deal with it, also you'd be behind him, so if they did shoot, he has his ability and if you're small enough, they might not even see you; which is what he's betting on. I also think that he guards the door while you use the bathroom, he doesn't care if it's a big, multiple stall womans restroom, no is allowed in while you're in there. He, in his own right, is your own personal little handy man. Like you said, fixing up the things around the house, he also is the type too fix your things before you notice there's something wrong with them. Like if something of yours had fallen, a vase of roses perhaps, had broken he'd buy you a new one and replace the same flowers so that it looks like nothing ever happened, or if you had a stuffed animal that you treasured he'd attempt too sew it for you- he doesn't wanna buy a new one right away cause it's special and he knows something like that can't just easily be replaced, so he tries his best. But, he wouldn't pay a man too do something that he could do- and Chuuya would do it better, best believe.

Chuuya has always been a giver, anting too make you feel good in anyway he can. He makes it his job too learn your body fully. He wants too know your body better then you do, he doesn't ever want you too be one of those women that feel like they have too get themselves off because they're partners don't care enough too make them cum. Chuuya does care and this is one of the little ways he shows that. I also hc Chuuya too be the type of person that doesn't do... sex. He makes love. Sure he'll fuck you, especially if he's pent up from work, but he makes it his mission too make love to you at some point in the night. Whether that be the soft kisses in between bites to your neck or rubbing and caressing the area that he had just spanked. He never wants the thought of sex for you too be mentally or physically exhausting, like you're just doing it too please him. But, he does also get a kick when he watches you push at his chest and then tug and pull at the sheets because you just don't know what too do with yourself. Your so overwhelmed with how good it is that you just lay there and take it or you just can't hold still. That's what he enjoys though, when you just can't hold still so he has too hold you down with his ability so that you physically can't move, but the aftermath is his favorite. You calling for him so that he can carry you to the shower because you can't move or him coming down the stairs shirtless, with his grey sweats low on his hips, seeing the love bites on your neck and on your thighs as you cook him breakfast.

#baby-tini #anon ask #chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader smut #chuuya bsd #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #bsd chuuya #bsd #chuuya fluff #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungou stray dogs

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no1deepspacehater · 4 months ago

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⸻⋅☾SYLUS - NSFW ABC's☽⋅⸻

TW: Spoilers, General TW (It's Sylus, c'mon now) and mentions of CNC (he doesn't like it, it's just mentioned)

AN: Since he's come out i've been spending so much time exploring his character and unlocking his myths!! This man has me in a chokehold. I'm so sorry Xavier.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s gonna have you in his hold for a bit, he’s not a big cuddler, but he wants you to come down nicely. So it’s a bit of him watching you relax and whipering how good you were etc for a bit.

Then, mostly for him, he’s gonna have a bit of wine (he’s such an alcoholic).

He’ll offer you a bath and shower, which he does take even if you don’t want to (remember, aftercare goes both ways, this is his way to relax.)

But don’t worry, if you want some cuddles he’s willingly, after much teasing of how much of a needy kitten you are.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Everything is his favourite part.

But if he has to choose, his arms and hands.

He’s put a lot of hours into training, without his evol he can still strangle the light from someone’s life on his own and punch the daylight out of them too.

For you, he is an ass and tits man. Why does he have to choose? He can and will have both.

Loves to see a curvy dress on you that shows off your physique. His hand is so quick to slide around your waist, proud to have a good looking person like you by his side to show off.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Thick, clear ropes of the stuff. He almost gets annoyed with how messy it can be.

Not that he’s opposed to covering you with the stuff, no he just prefers to fill you with it.

Loves tasting you, and having you coat his entire hand with your essence.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

During his surveillance of you (stalking), has watched you bathed and shower at least once or twice.

Didn’t make it a habit, even he has lines, but he’s found himself enraptured with just watching you do these simple things.

It weird because he doesn’t watch you masturbate, nor masturbate himself really during the times he watched you shower.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Knows about sex. Fucks.

He’s experienced, you can’t tell me otherwise. He’s had a few workers here and there.

He also knows that just because he has experience with other women, doesn’t mean he knows all about your likings.

But trust, he’ll spend all night learning you.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Reverse and regular cowgirl, surprisingly.

Bet let’s dissect, even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s of course in control.

He has no trouble holding you down on top of him, or moving you up and down on him.

And of course, the sight is beautiful to him, he’s in close reach of everything, and of course, most of the time you have no other option to be face to face with him.

Where he can really see wha’t going on in your mind.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I wouldn’t say he’s overly serious, but if you call his constant teasing humorous then he’s fucking hilarious.

But yes, he’s more focused on whispering the most outright naaesstttiest filth close into your ear while you come undone before him.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Shaved down to a minimum and neat. He has his own (very high quality) clippers for down there. Takes pride in his look.

Wouldn’t mind if you like to keep things natural, but does like to have things low for you as well.

Hell, he’ll go crazy if you have some type of design on it!

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He’s more of a dirty romantic.

But he can be sweet, in his own way.

Telling you how much he adores you, your sounds, your body.

Soft touches, handling you delicately at times.

And he keeps you pretty close during the act, lots of skin to skin touching.

His kisses range from feather light to deep kisses, and leaving marks is definitely one of his acts of affection.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

This might be crazy, but hear me out.

I do not see this man masturbating often.

Maybe like ONCE in a literal blue moon, like if he’s deadly bored. (And let’s face it, he’s too much of a busy man to be bored.)

Also, he’s the most powerful man in the N109 zone, and basically has most of Linkon in his hands, I’m sure he will find someone (You) that will satisfy his needs.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Need I say, BLOOD KINK!?!

Yeah, he get’s down like that, and I will die on this hill.

He’d love to see your pathetic attempts at trying to make him flinch as you draw a blade against his skin, it winds him up.

Won’t go too crazy on you, but let’s just say you’re going to need a bandage for that bike mark.

Ropes, whips, cuffs, he’s into that entire scene, anything to make you submit to him.

Vibrators are common place, one of his favourite things to do is to watch you fall apart without even laying a finger on you.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

One of his many secluded castles or cabins. He can get you as loud as he wants there.

Not that he really cares if anyone hears the both of you.

Prefers to be in a comfortable place really, but doesn’t mind if you want to get dirty in a semi-public place (Like a private room, clubs, office).

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you stand your ground.

Once, you pistol whipped a high ranking gangster during an undercover mission, after he ‘joked’ about a female being in a room. Then you proceeded to berate him and his whole crew coldly and put him in his place.

He was rock hard after that. Wanted to take you then and there.

Also has a thing for you being bratty, replying smartly to his teasing. Makes him want to fuck it out of you.

Seeing you dressed up. He knows you’re not materialistic, and neither is he, but seeing you in a fitting outfit that you bought with his card (that probably cost thousands), drives him crazy.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Consensual-non-consensual, or noncon stuff. Yes, he likes when you’re bratty and put up a fight a little, but not in that way. (He sees the effect of trafficking in the N109 zone, and doesn’t feel comfortable seeing anyone portray that.)

Anything that involves other types of bodily fluids, yes, that type of stuff. He finds it weird.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

LOVES a blowjob with all his cold heart. Would never say no. He can be kind of a head pusher, because he knows it ticks you off, but if you’re not comfortable he can resists, he just likes to hear you choking on him.

Does also like to eat you out, only if you’re cool with him doing it to the point of much overstimulation (he’s going to do that anyway).

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Definitely prefers Slow, sensual, but DEEP!!

You swear, you don’t know how he does it, but he’s gotten to places you can’t even reach with a dildo.

He’ll go wild sometimes and fuck you with sharp, sudden movements, because he’s close but he wants you to come before him (But he won’t tell you that).

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Prefers to have his way with you.

He can get busy at times, so he’s not always available for that. He tends to disappear randomly in the night and show up randomly.

If you beg him enough, rile him up enough secretly, he will not hesitate to push you up against a wall in an alleyway and give you what you’re asking for, just know that he always ties up loose ends, and we will be continuing later.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s very open, apart from the hard no’s.

Likes the heart pounding excitement from taking new, kind of dangerous risks.

Won’t do anything that will put you in serious danger or grievous harms way.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

If it’s night, he’s going to town.

But that’s mostly because he’s taking his time with you.

Short refractory period after the first 2-3 times, then after the 5th time he’s just focused on making you cum.

If it’s the day, let’s say about 2, maybe three rounds max. He’s definitely less energized because he’s normally asleep.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not really toys, since the handcuffs, muzzles and whips have actually been used for other affairs... But they’re multipurpose, anyway, or so he says.

Does invest in vibrators and the like when he sees how much he can do to you with them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Do you really have to ask this, for SYLUS?

The man was practically born to tease. You think it’s his new way of trying to kill you, or drive you insane, at least.

If he’s really feeling like a prick, he’s denying your orgasm a couple times, and punishing you hard if you do, by overstimulating you until you’re shaking.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s not a moaner, honestly, if he wasn’t talking you through it most of the time it’d be deadly quiet.

He’ll let out a grunt here and there, a breathy sigh that still gets you weak occasionally.

But of course, he’s talking you through it, and his vocabulary is quite expressive.

With his baritone voice, he could be talking about pineapples and it’d still get you going.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He knows the twins have been trying to eavesdrop sometimes.

Once, you asked if they could watch, and he allowed it.

He can always tell when they're there, and tells you that you spoil them too much.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Big, I don’t care, argue with the wall.

Okay okay, more length than girth if we’re being real, but he’s not skinny either.

At least 9 inches. He’s GIGANTIC, look at him! Def a shower.

VEINY!! Decorated from tip to balls.

His entire shaft turns red from stimulation, the tip being the brightest. It rivals his eyes.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Surprisingly not that high, honestly.

Sure, he likes to tease and rile you up, but it’s not like he’s expecting or wanting sex just because.

Can go pretty long without it honestly, there are other ways of having his fun with you.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Unless it’s in the morning/day, he’s staying awake.

Sex is one of the few energy-inducing activities for him that will keep him awake for hours.

Will probably play with your hair, or just lay by you for a while until taking a short nap himself, maybe sipping a few wines to relax him.

#sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #l&ds #love and deep space #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lauve and deepspace #l&ds sylus

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moonxknightx · 3 months ago

Text

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : SILENT STORM : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Wade Wilson x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You, a quiet new recruit at Xavier’s Institute, secretly harbors feelings for the unpredictable Deadpool. When you’re unexpectedly assigned to share a room and a bed with him, the closeness forces both of you to confront your true feelings, leading to the start of a tender romance.

THE X-MANSION WAS NOT EXACTLY WHAT YOU EXPECTED. You had imagined a more rigid atmosphere, where the weight of the world pressed down on every mutant's shoulders. After all, the X-Men were heroes, their deeds legendary in the mutant community. Instead, you found a place brimming with warmth, camaraderie, and a kind of chaotic harmony that felt both welcoming and overwhelming.

Still, despite the friendly faces, you kept to yourself. Old habits died hard. It was easier to observe from the sidelines, where you could process everything without having to jump into the deep end. Besides, you were new here, and everyone already had their circles. You preferred the quiet company of your books and the familiar hum of your thoughts.

But all of that was about to change.

"Hey, new girl!"

You looked up from your spot on the couch in the common room, your book halfway open. The voice belonged to Wade Wilson, or as the rest of the mansion called him—Deadpool. He was a living whirlwind of chaos, energy, and unfiltered comments, all wrapped up in a red-and-black suit. And, if you were honest with yourself, he was the reason you often found yourself sneaking glances when you thought no one was looking.

"Uh, hi," you said, offering a small, somewhat awkward wave.

"What's up, quiet one?" he asked, plopping down beside you, much too close for comfort, but you didn't exactly mind. He had a way of invading personal space that somehow felt...inviting. "What'cha reading?"

You held up the book cover for him to see.

"A classic! A fellow intellectual, I see," he grinned, then leaned closer as if to whisper conspiratorially. "I'm more of a comic book guy myself, but hey, to each their own."

You couldn’t help but smile at that. It was impossible not to. His energy was infectious, and even though you tried to keep your distance, he made it difficult. Wade had this knack for drawing people out, whether they wanted to be drawn out or not.

"So, I hear we’re gonna be roomies," he said, his tone teasing.

Your eyes widened. "Roomies?"

"Yup! Turns out the mansion’s a bit crowded. Everyone’s pairing up. And lucky you, you get the one and only Deadpool!" He waggled his eyebrows, clearly finding the situation hilarious. "Don’t worry, I don’t snore...much."

You blinked, processing this new piece of information. Roomed with Wade Wilson? The Wade Wilson? You had barely talked to him beyond these fleeting conversations, and now you were going to share a room with him?

"Uh, are you sure?" you asked, your voice betraying your uncertainty.

"Positive! Just checked with the big guy upstairs," Wade said, pointing a thumb in the vague direction of where you assumed Professor Xavier’s office was. "He said, 'Wade, you’re the perfect mentor for our newest recruit,' and who am I to disagree with the boss, right?"

You weren’t sure if you believed that Professor X had phrased it quite that way, but Wade’s enthusiasm was impossible to deflect.

"Okay," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "I guess that’s...fine."

"Fine? Fine?! Rooming with Wade Wilson is never just 'fine,'" he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if wounded. "It’s a blessing. A privilege! Think of all the fun we’re gonna have—pillow fights, late-night snack raids, deep philosophical discussions about the meaning of life and why chimichangas are the ultimate food."

You chuckled despite yourself. "I don’t think I’m ready for all that."

Wade grinned, his eyes crinkling behind his mask. "Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine. And hey, maybe you’ll even start talking to me more. I’m very persuasive, you know."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress your smile. "We’ll see."

Moving your stuff into the shared room was surprisingly uneventful—until you noticed the single bed taking up the middle of the room.

"Uh, Wade?" you asked, pointing at the bed as if it had suddenly appeared out of thin air.

He followed your gaze and then let out a low whistle. "Huh. Well, I guess someone upstairs is shipping us already."

You felt your face heat up. "I-I’ll sleep on the floor. It’s not a big deal."

Wade waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense! This bed is big enough for two. We’ll just build a pillow fort in the middle. You get one side, I get the other. No funny business, I promise. Unless you count my sleep-talking, in which case, you’re in for a treat."

You hesitated, feeling a mix of nervousness and something else—a fluttering in your stomach that you hadn’t quite placed until now. The thought of sharing a bed with Wade, even with a barrier of pillows between you, was both thrilling and terrifying. But you didn’t want to let him see how much it affected you, so you nodded.

"Okay, that works," you agreed, trying to sound nonchalant.

Wade clapped his hands together. "Perfect! This is gonna be like a sleepover. Do you want the side closest to the door or the window?"

"The window," you replied, grateful that he was making this easy.

"Excellent choice," he said, winking at you. "I’ll take the door side. You know, in case any bad guys break in during the night. I’ll protect you, my fair maiden."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. Wade was ridiculous, but he had a way of making everything seem less daunting. Maybe sharing a bed with him wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The first few nights were awkward, to say the least. You kept to your side of the bed, huddled up against the edge as far as you could go without falling off. Wade, true to his word, respected the pillow barrier and even stayed mostly still, aside from the occasional bout of sleep-talking.

But as the days passed, you found yourself growing more comfortable. You started to notice little things about Wade��like how he always made sure the room was warm enough for you at night, or how he would subtly rearrange the pillows to give you more space. He could be loud and obnoxious, but there was a kindness beneath all the bluster that you hadn’t expected.

And then there was your growing crush.

It snuck up on you, as these things often do. At first, you thought it was just admiration—after all, Wade was brave, funny, and fiercely loyal to his friends. But then you started noticing how your heart would race whenever he smiled at you, or how you found yourself looking forward to the end of the day when you’d both be lying in bed, talking about nothing and everything.

You tried to push the feelings aside. Wade was...Wade. He was larger than life, and you were just...you. Quiet, reserved, and maybe a little too intense for someone like him. You doubted he even saw you as anything other than a friend—or worse, a younger sibling in need of protection.

But the feelings wouldn’t go away. They grew stronger with each passing day, and it became harder to keep them hidden. Especially when Wade would casually toss an arm across the pillow fort, his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he mumbled something incoherent in his sleep.

It was torture, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if it made things weird between you? So you stayed silent, your heartache hidden behind a carefully constructed mask of indifference.

It was late one night, the mansion unusually quiet, when you found yourself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Wade was beside you, his breathing steady and even. You hadn’t said much that evening, too wrapped up in your own thoughts to engage in the usual banter. Wade had noticed, of course—he always noticed—but he hadn’t pushed you to talk.

But now, as you lay there in the dark, you couldn’t stop thinking about the mission you had completed together earlier that day. It had gone sideways more than once, and Wade had saved your life more than once. You kept replaying the moments in your mind, the way he had shielded you with his body, the way he had looked at you with a mixture of concern and something else you couldn’t quite place.

"Hey," Wade’s voice broke through your thoughts, startling you.

You turned your head to see him lying on his side, propped up on one elbow as he looked down at you. "You okay?"

"Me? Yeah, I’m fine," you lied, trying to smile.

Wade didn’t buy it. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You’ve been quiet—quieter than usual. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, and you swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts. You wanted to tell him everything, to pour out your heart and let him see just how much he meant to you. But the words caught in your throat, tangled up with fear and uncertainty.

"I’ve just been thinking," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"About what?" he asked, his tone soft and patient.

You hesitated, but something in his eyes urged you to continue. Wade, despite his usual chaotic demeanor, could be incredibly perceptive when it mattered most. He was watching you now with an intensity that made it impossible to deflect or hide behind vague answers.

"About today. About how you saved me," you finally said, your voice trembling just slightly. "I just... I don’t know if I thanked you properly."

Wade’s expression softened, and he shook his head. "You don’t have to thank me. That’s what teammates do, right? We look out for each other."

You nodded, but the knot in your chest didn’t loosen. It wasn’t just about today’s mission. It was about everything—the way he made you feel seen in a way no one else had, the way he could make you laugh when you wanted to disappear into the shadows, the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him even when you knew you should.

"Wade, I—" you started, then hesitated, biting your lip as you struggled to find the right words. "There’s more to it than that."

He stayed quiet, giving you the space to gather your thoughts, his gaze never leaving your face. You took a deep breath, feeling your heart pound in your chest.

"I... I’ve been feeling like I don’t really belong here. Like I’m on the outside, looking in," you confessed. "But when I’m with you, it’s different. You make me feel like I fit, like I’m not just some quiet, awkward girl who’s always in the background."

Wade frowned slightly, his brow furrowing as he listened. "You’re not just in the background. Not to me."

You felt your breath catch at his words, hope and fear warring within you. "I’ve been trying to keep it to myself, but... I think I have feelings for you, Wade. More than just teammates. More than just friends."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. You stared up at him, terrified of what he might say next.

Wade blinked, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer, almost tender. "You do?"

You nodded, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. "I know it’s probably silly. You’re... well, you’re you. And I’m just—"

"Don’t," he interrupted gently, his voice firm but kind. "Don’t put yourself down like that. You’re amazing. Seriously. I’ve been waiting for you to say something, but I didn’t want to push you. You’re so quiet sometimes, and I didn’t want to scare you off."

"You... you have?" you asked, barely daring to believe what you were hearing.

He grinned, a little sheepishly. "Yeah, I have. I’m crazy about you, you know that? But I didn’t want to mess things up between us. I figured if you didn’t feel the same, I could at least stick around and be your annoying, charming roommate."

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, relief flooding through you. "Wade, I—"

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his hand still resting gently on your cheek as he closed the distance between you. His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, as if giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. You kissed him back, your hands clutching at his shirt as if he might disappear if you let go.

The kiss deepened, all the emotions you had been holding back pouring out as you pressed closer to him. It was everything you hadn’t dared to hope for—warmth, safety, belonging—all wrapped up in the man you had been too afraid to love out loud.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Wade’s hand slid from your cheek to your back, pulling you closer as he whispered, "You’re not just someone in the background, okay? Not to me. You’re the reason I’m here. You’re the reason I stick around."

Tears pricked at your eyes, but this time they were tears of happiness, of relief. "Wade, I... I don’t know what to say."

He smiled, that familiar playful glint returning to his eyes. "You don’t have to say anything. Just let me hold you, okay? We’ll figure everything else out as we go."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you nestled closer to him, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. The tension that had been knotting your stomach for weeks melted away, leaving only a sense of peace and contentment.

As you lay there, wrapped in his arms, you knew that this was just the beginning. The start of something new, something real. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged. Right here, with him.

Wade shifted slightly, pulling the blankets up over both of you as he settled back down. "You know," he said, his voice drowsy but full of warmth, "this whole 'roommate' thing worked out pretty well, don’t you think?"

You smiled, resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Yeah, it really did."

"And just think," he continued, a grin evident in his voice, "we still have plenty of nights to practice this whole 'sharing a bed' thing. I’m thinking we could get really good at it."

You laughed softly, feeling more at ease than you had in a long time. "I think so too."

As you drifted off to sleep, your hand resting over his heart, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for this strange, chaotic, wonderful man who had somehow found his way into your life—and your heart.

And, as Wade’s arms tightened around you, you knew that whatever came next, you were ready to face it. Together.

🏷️: @stargazingcarol

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! 🫶

#wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #wade wilson fluff #deadpool and wolverine #ryan reynolds #x men x reader

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scribblesofagoonerr · 6 months ago

Text

— Come get yer' kid!

brace yourself folks, this is a long one!

Thank you to @alotofpockets for helping me through the writers' block with certain parts.

I was gonna just keep this as 5 parts, but I love writing choas fc so I'm just gonna continue to write it until I get bored of it, whenever that happens.

pairings: kim little x reader, leah williamson x reader, awfc x reader

summary: the flight back to london and kim still can't catch a break, much to her surprise it's not reader causing the chaos this time though.

"Aye, Kimmy. Yer kids' quiet," The ever observant Katie McCabe nudges the Scots' woman and gestures to the seated area in the airport where your all but practically glued to Alessia.

"Shes' missing Kyra," Kim glances over to see you as she makes the brief explanation to the Irish girl, knowing the truth behind the reason for your sudden withdrawn behaviour, "And shes' not my kid. I'm just babysitting until we get back to London and then shes' Leah's problem again."

Katie snorts in amusement, "Takin' it pretty hard to not have her partner in crime, ain't she? I bet Williamsons' ecstatic to have the little menace back under her wing." She jokes with your captain.

"She'll be alright as soon as we board the flight," Kims' more than observant with your lack of your usual chaotic behaviour, but somehow she still feels like she needs to be on high alert in case you decide to pull another prank.

Kim was right about one thing though, you were definitely in a sulk about missing your best friend.

After a fun filled few days down under in Aus with the overall win from playing against the All Stars team, you were all now heading back to London.

Unforunately due to the fact that International break was right around the corner, it meant that you would have to endure the flight without the older Aussie girl considering that all three Matilda's players remained in Melbourne to catch the connected flight to their camp.

It's safe to say that you do feel a bit mopey about the situation and of course its' not long before the rest of the girls start to pick up on your distant personna.

"We're goin' to be boarding the flight soon, Y/N/N," Alessia glances down at you from where you've shifted your body to lean up against hers with your head tiredly resting on her shoulder, "Is everythin' alright, kid?"

You just decide it's easier to sit with one of the girls, who wouldn't try and bother as much to get a conversation out of you and your pretty familiar with Alessia through the England side of things, so you know that shes' a safe bet to sit by.

"Mhm," You barely even have any energy to respond.

Your response peaks Alessia's further concer that there's something wrong with you because having known for you as long as she has done, the only times' you known to be this withdrawn is either when your sick, tired or just upset about something, "Are you not feelin' well?" She wonders.

"M' fine," You mumble with your head buried in her neck, you were keeping your hood over your head with the hope that everyone else will leave you alone.

"Are you sad about something?" Alessia frowns in deeper concern, trying to figure out the reason for your quietness; Yeah, you were definitely sad.

"I guess so," You murmer in response, your eyes feel hazy with the lack of sleep but that's purely down to your own fault of staying awake most of the previous night.

Damn TikTok being a bad habit, one minute your scrolling through videos and the next thing you know its' 5 am, the suns' coming up and your being woken up to head to the airport.

Whoops?

"What's goin' on?" Alessia leans forward to try and be more observant, "Are you missing Kyra?" She questions, trying to figure out what could be getting you so down.

Are you that easy to read?

"Uh huh," You mumble quietly in agreement, "I'm too tired, Lessi." You add, trying to fight the sleepiness.

Alessia chuckles slightly and pats your back with her free hand, "Thats' why you should sleep instead of being on TikTok, eh?" She jokes as you lift your head up to face her just as quick, "You made the mistake of posting one of them videos into the group chat."

"Awh shucks," You mumble in realisation; Fantastic, another reason for one of the older "responsible" girls to lecture you, ie. the blonde English skipper, otherwise known as Malfoy to you now, "I'm not in the mood for one of Malfoy's lectures."

"What?" Alessia asks, confused, "Whos' Malfoy?" She's bewildered by the name.

"Le, Malfoys' her new code name cos' of that god-awful hair cut," You explain in the state of being half asleep.

The blonde couldn't help but stifle her laughter, "I don't think she'll be too happy to hear that." She jokes.

"I'm willing to take that risk of her shouting, because its' funny at least," You mumble tiredly as you let out a yawn, "Lessi? Can I sleep on the plane? I'm so tired."

"Sure kid, you can sleep on the plane," Alessia chuckles and pats your back, "Just try and stay awake until we board the flight at least. None of us want to carry you onto the plane." She adds.

"I can't promise that," Your voice is once again muffled in the crook of the older blondes' neck as you fight the urge to stay awake, "I'm so tired, but TikToks' addictive though to give up watching it."

"I don't think I've ever seen Y/N be this quiet before," Teyah jokes as she glances over to where your sat watching a movie on your iPad while still being leant up against Alessia.

"Unless shes' asleep," Katie remarks.

"Or she's sick," Vic chimes in, remembering the time where you came to training before and were too stubborn to admit you were feeling unwell.

You were more than aware that they were talking about you, but you were much too engrossed in the current Avengers film to even care about it.

The first flight from Melbourne had been fine, you had been able to peacefully sleep practically the whole flight; Luckily enough Alessia had taken pity on your tiredness and allowed you to all but lie right on her to snooze away, also making sure that nobody else woke you up either.

The connected flight from Dubai to London was a little different and with your newfound energy, you found yourself growing bored, fidgeting in your seat and being quickly aggitated when you couldn't get comfy until Alessia suggested that you watch a film to try and distract yourself for a bit, so therefor you're now sitting beside the blonde-- more like practically leaning on her while you watch the first Avengers film.

"She's too quiet. Are we sure that shes' not secretley plotting something?" Teyah wonders, hesistantly.

Katie shrugs her shoulders, "I'm not sure."

"You know how much she loves them Avengers films," Vic all but rolls her eyes; Its' true that you were a massive Marvels' fan, you wouldn't ever deny that - You bedroom walls were covered with posters, amongst other things and any time that you needed to wind down, you'd take yourself off to your bedroom, or a quiet place where ever you were to watch a film.

The Irish girl hums and tries to observe you closely, "Ere' Y/N! What's up with yer, kid?" She shouts across the plane to you.

"Leave her be, Katie, shes' fine," Kim gives the bruntte a pointed look.

Teyah snickers, "Are you sure? Shes' actually not being a pest for once!" She makes the snide remark.

"Yeh, only cos' she doesn't have her sidekick by her side. I've never seen her look so depressed..."

You finally had enough of the constant back and forth chat about you, besides they were ruining the perfect film.

Making sure to pause the film first so you don't miss any of it, you whip your head round to face the girls, "I can hear, you know!" You shout at them.

"Now look what you've done," Cloe pipes in, shaking her head.

"Y/N," Alessia tries to divert your attention back to the film rather than arguing with the older girls.

"What? They're talkin' about me behind me back-- And they're interrupting one of the greatest films made!" You whine in protest, shooting a glare at Katie and Teyah.

Kim exhales a sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose, "I knew it was too good to be true," She thinks to herself, "Y/N, just ignore them and watch the film. Katie, Teyah, you girls are old enough to know better than to wind her up!" She scolds them both.

"Y/N is the same age as Teyah," Katie reminds the Scots' women.

"Are you sure? The way she behaves sometimes says different," Emily chips in, amusedly.

"She has a point," Frida adds in.

Kim starts to rub her temples, "Just a few more hours, just a few more hours until we're off the plane," She repeats to herself. "Lets' just leave Y/N be, alright?" She tells the rest of the girls, sternly.

"Yeah," Katie and Teyah mumble in sync.

You can't help but help look Katie dead in the eye and stick your tongue out at her before you go back to watching the film.

"Y/N," Alessia chides, catching the rude face you had pulled at the Irish.

"What? I didn't do out," You protest innocently, trying to act like butter wouldn't melt.

Alessia definitely knew different as she laughed and slung her arm around your shoulder, leaving you to be so watch the film and enjoy the peace and quiet for the remainder of the flight, hopefully.

"Wha... What was that?" Kim shoots up from her seat and immediately sets her eyes' on you.

"What was what?" Cloe asks, confused.

"I just felt something hit the back of my neck-- Y/N!" Kims' straight to blame you for whatever it was that happened.

You poke your head up from your iPad to see your Captain looking less than happy, "What?" You question.

"What'd I tell you? No more pranks, or else!" Kims' still quick enough to scold you, thinking it had something to do with you.

"That weren't me, Kimmy. I've been watched the film-- Ask Alessia!" You protest, turning to look at the blonde for her to back you up.

Kim turns to look at the blonde girl, "Alessia?" She questions.

"Shes' right, Kim," Alessia nods in agreement, "Y/N has been practically glued to be the whole flight." She teases you, ruffling your hair which she knows' you all but hate when someone does that.

The Scots' women looks more than confused now, "Then who was it?" She wonders.

There's a few snickers around the plane and you poke your head round to spot where the laughters coming from; The Young Guns.

You weren't going to rat them out, you were actually quite impressed about being able to pull the prank off, even if it did mean that you were the one to get blamed for it.

"I don't know. Sure you're not imaging things now, Kimmy?" You joke with the older women, sure enough you were in sulking still about the lack of your best friend this flight but you had a spark of energy after your nap and would you really be yourself if you didn't act up even the slightest bit?

"Wha-- I know you had something to do with this, Y/N!" Kim is lost for words as shes' more than convinced it was you pulling the strings on the chaos.

"It wasn't me. How could I do that when I've been sat here the whole time?" You tell the Scots' women as you give her one of your famous cheeky grins.

"Yes, well-- Urgh. Enough of it, anyways. I don't want any more trouble the reaminder of the flight," Kim states sternly, wagging her finger in your face, "The sooner this plane lands, the better." She mutters to herself, walking back over to her own seat.

"It weren't even me!" You protest, miffed about the fact that you were automatically the one to get the blame for this.

Are you that predictable?

"Back in a minute. I need to loo," You make the quick excuse to the blonde, clambering over the seats before you head to where the academy players are all huddled around together, "Young Guns!" You shout in a low whisper.

"Hi Eagle 1," Mini Viv greets you.

"Whatever it was that you did, I got the blame for!" You huff in protest.

"We don't know what you're talking about," Noami replies.

You can't help but scoff and glance between all 6 of them who're trying to stifle their laughter, "I know you definitely did something. I know that look!" You insist.

"We didn't do anything," Maddie snickers.

"Yeah and well, if we did then we just learnt from the best," Laila remarks.

"Yeah but that's not the-- Wait, really? You really think I'm the best?" Your sidetracked by the compliment to continue to point your point across, "Seriously?"

"Yep," Maddie agrees.

Freya shrugs her shoulders, "We just wanted to have some fun. The flight is boring otherwise." She admits.

"I told them it was a bad idea," Mini Katie chips in, looking more apologetic than the other 5 of them.

You can't help but grin feeling a certain acomplishment, "Right, okay... I'm goin' back to my seats, but no more pranks. Mother Kimmys' convinced it' me and I'm toast if anything else happens!" You warn them.

Mini Viv mockingly salutes you, "You've got it, Eagle 1. No more pranks."

"Good," You glance between the 6 of them with a certain look, hoping it looks at least the bit immidating; After all, you have a great mentor when it comes to it, "I'm going back to my seat before Less starts to wonder where I am."

"Guys, should we have told her about us switching the luggage or leave it as a suprise for her to find out?" Noami questions in a hushed whisper.

"Nah, leave it. At least we won't be in the firing line then," Laila jokes with the rest of the Academy players.

"Freedom!" You exclaim, jumping up from your seat the minute that you touch down in Lonndon; You couldn't wait to be off the plane and be able to run around again.

"Someones' eager to get off, huh?" Cloe jokes, spotting you from her seat as she watches you to try and rush off the plane the second you can.

"It's almost hard to believe that Y/N was this quiet on the plane," Emily chimes in.

"Yeah, you wouldn't think it now," Vic snickers, noting your usual energetic self again.

"Lemme off! I need fresh air!" You insist, wanting nothing more than to be off the plane, having had enough of being confided inside of it.

With that being said, as soon as the moment came where you could exit the plane, you pretty much sprint from your seat and out of the door, running down the steps onto the tarmac ahead of the rest of the girls.

"And shes' off," Alessia chuckles, shaking her head.

"Y/N! Don't run off!" Kims' back to stressing about you as she rushes to try and catch up with you, knowing the busy airport that you're no doubt bound to get lost inside if you get far, "Come back here!"

"Freedom!" You exclaim, throwing your arms up in the air as you run around like a complete maniac in that moment.

"Run, Y/N. Run!" The Young Guns shout in encouragement.

"Y/N! Come 'ere!" Kim shouts in frustration, trying to get a hold of you while your running about.

"I'm free!" You shout aloud like a mad man.

"Y/N, come back here-- We're about to go into a crowded airport!" Kim continues to shout frantically, catching up with you and taking a hold of your upper bicep.

"Ay, Kimmy-- Lemme go, I want a taste of freedom!" You whine and try to wriggle away, all you want to do is run around but the Scots' women is pretty reluctant to let go anytime soon.

"I'm not letting go, I can't trust that you won't run off again!" Kim states, sternly.

You still continue to try and break free from her grasp, "I won't do it again. Lemme go!"

"Mhm, I don't believe that-- Come on!" With that being said, Kim tugs you in the direction of the airport with the rest of the girls.

At least while you went through security, the Scot' had the kindness to realise her grip before you all head over to reclaim your baggage.

Low and behold did you or the rest of the team know what had happened to it.

Of course you were the one to get the blame for it without even a second thought.

"Oh hold on, I need to grab my power bank before we leave the airport," Katie speaks up in realisation, "My phones' almost dead."

"There's always one," Teyah jokes, rolling her eyes.

Katie unzips her suitcase, or at least what she thinks is hers, "Why can't I find it? I swear I packed it-- Hold on, this one ain't even mine!" She exclaims, confused as she continues to dig around in it, "Who's is this?" She questions, turning to the rest of the group.

"That's mine," Sarah chimes in.

Katie huffs and passes the suitcase to her, "You must've got mine then?" She questions, accepting the suitcase before she opens it up to have no luck there either, "What? This ones' not even mine!" She states, annoyed about the situation.

With that being said, Katie begins to start literally ripping open each and every suitcase, scouring through to find the correct one.

"They've all been messed up!" Vic points out in realisation.

"Really? No shit sherlock," Teyah teases the Dutch girl.

"What's going on?" Kim asks, confused as she overhears the commotion.

"The baggage has all been mixed up," Alessia exhales a sigh.

"Y/N," Kim mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose; At the news of this, your Captain is literally stood there seething in anger while you're non the wiser, distracted by the colourful logos' in the airport of a nearby shop where you spot lego.

"Of course it was her," Katie remarks, huffing in annoyance.

"Ah, no. Y/N, come back here, right now!" Kims' quick to spot you making a run for it in the direction, "Y/F/N, get back here!" She shouts through the airport.

"O... Ow, Kimmy!" You flinch in shock as you feel the pain of your ear being yanked, "Lemme go! Lemme go, I just want the Lego!" You state, not seeing the big deal about it; In your opinion, it looked so cool!

"Absolutely not! No!" Kims' firm in her words as she believes your the one thats' behind the whole mix up of the bags, "Why can't you not just behave for once? This is gettin' beyond a joke now, Y/F/N!"

"O... Ow! This hurts-- Lemme go!" You continue to whine and writh around in pain, your definitely not a fan of this but you don't see what the huge fuss was about you running off to look at the Lego, "I just wanted to look at the Lego, its' not a big deal!"

"I'm not talkin' about the lego, Y/N. You mixed up the bags!" Kim points the finger at you for the blame, "Don't even try to deny it-- I knew you were up to something!" The Scots' women scolds you.

"What? That wasn't even me!" You whine, trying to break free from the Scots' women.

"Like I believe that, Y/N-- This is completely out of order!" Kim states, sternly as she drags you in the direction back to the bags, "I can't believe you-- You can't ever stop causing trouble!" She scolds.

Your at a complete loss for words, you had no idea what she was talking about but the pain in your ear really was hurting a lot the more that Kim continued to hold it tightly, "I don't... I don't-- It wasn't me. Let go, it hurts!" You complain.

"The Young Guns have a confession," Katie speaks up as you both approach them all again; It turns out that while Kim was chasing you around the airport, the Young Guns decided to come clean.

"Oh?" Kim blinks and looks between the 6 academy players.

"Go ahead," Teyah nudges Freya to speak.

"Uh... It's about the baggage..." Freya begins.

"That wasn't Y/N," Maddie continues to say.

Mini Viv scratches the back of her neck, "Er, yeah, it was us instead."

"We just wanted to have some fun," Laila chips in.

"Yeah, the flight was borin' and wanted to do something," Noami states.

"I was completely against it-- I told them it was a bad idea!" Mini Katie insists, seeing the fury in the Scots' facial expression and not wanting to be on the wrong side of her Captain.

Kim exhales a sigh, easing her grip on your ear as she pinches the bridge of her nose, "Right, I see. Well, thank you for being honest," She states.

You stare at the Scots' women in disbelief, "Thats' it? That's all your gonna say-- You yanked me by me ear across the airport and they just get off scot free? What the actual fuck!" You exclaim, annoyed.

"Calm down, Y/N," Alessia can clearly tell your annoyed and tries to defuse the situation.

"Calm down? Nah, sod that! If... If that were me then I actually would've been in trouble-- That's not fair!" You whine, huffing and puffing and stomping your feet around to cause a scene.

"That's enough, Y/N," Kim cuts in, her voice remaining firm, "I don't care who did it, they've admitted it now lets' grab our things and get out of here so we can go and meet the rest of the girls.

"I didn't... I didn't even get to look at the lego!" You huff in annoyance, kicking the ground beneath you as you sulk behind the rest of the girls, "I want to at least look at that!"

"I don't think so!" Kims' quick to grip a hold of your ear again as you're reluctantly pulled in the direction of where Leah, Lia, Beth and Viv are all waiting for you, "Leah! Come get yer' kid. I'm done babysittin' now!" She exclaims.

"Kimmy, lemme go-- This hurts!" You still try and break free from the Scots' womens' grip, but to no avail shes' still reluctant to let go.

"Hi, girls. Good trip?" Lia greets you all as you walk over to them.

Katie scoffs, "You could say so."

"It's been eventful," Alessia chimes in.

"So, we heard you might need one of these?" Beth smirks, holding up one of Myles' leashes in her hand as she looks you dead in the eye.

"What-- No!" You protest against the idea, scowling at the blonde, whos' finding complete humour in the situation.

Leah furrows her eyebrows in confusion as she catches up to you all, "Dare I ask what happened?" She asks.

"Y/N's just having a tantrum over lego and other things," Vic jokes.

Judging by Leahs' stoic facial expression, you guess that shes' less than happy to hear that.

"I'm never babysittin' again!" Kim states, releasing her grip on your ear as she pushes you in the direction of the blonde, "Shes' your problem now."

With that being said, Kim all but takes a hold of her luggage and starts to walk off from the rest of the group.

"Wait, no-- Hey Kim, hold on!" Leah calls out to her in sudden realisation, "We still need you to babysit when we go to camp!"

"No, no, nope. Absolutely not!" Kim shouts back in response without even turning round, "Theres' not a single chance that I'm taking care of that menace any time soon-- I need a break!" She exclaims.

"C'mon Kim, we can hardly take her to camp with us!" Beth pleads with the Scots' women.

Kim scoffs and shakes her head, "That's your problem girls, figure it out yourself!" That being said, shes' quick to make her exit out of the airport and you bet no doubt the first place shes' heading to is the nearest off license.

"You know I'm 19, right? I can take care of myself just fine-- Alright, I'll just shut up then..." You go to protest, but judging by the look that you get from all four older girls, you just decide to shut up.

"Poor Kim," Lia exhales, shaking her head.

Viv hums in agreement, "Yeah, poor Kim indeed."

"I thought I told you to behave?" Leah exhales a sigh while she looks at you in disappointment.

You were now back home, you had to deal with the scolding of a lifetime which still didn't end even when you arrived back at the flat you shared with the blonde.

Which led you to know, where the blonde was still telling you off for everything dumb and idiotic in her own words that you've done over the past few days.

"I did-- I just wanted to look at lego!" You whine, trying to justify the reasoning for your need to run off in the airport.

"Oh, really? So Kim literally dragging you through the airport by your ear was for no reason at all, was it?" Leah questions with a raised eyebrow as she unlocks the front door.

Busted.

"I hope you know that you're grounded," Leah states, firmly.

"What! Why?" Your eyes widen in disbelief.

"Because I quite clearly remember telling you to behave and you clearly didn't," Leah explains the reasoning as she continues with her usual stern facial expresion, "Therefor, you are grounded."

"You can't ground me-- I'm 19!" Your quick to protest, knowing there was probably no use in even doing that.

Leah has the audacity to smirk at you, "Oh, well that's where you're wrong there, sunshine. My house, my rules."

You continue to widen your eyes in disbelief, "What!? That's not... That's not even fair!" You whine, like the ever mature adult you are.

"It is more than fair, Y/N," Leah states, firmly as she looks you dead in the eye, "From what it seems like, between you and Kyra, you've both tormented Kim the whole trip. We had a conversation about this, didn't we? The reason for you being grounded is more than justified and I'm not going to change my mind anytime soon."

"Meany," You mumble, staring down at your shoes.

"Great, so we can't leave her alone and nor can we take her with us," Leah huffs aloud, talking about you like you weren't even there with Lia, Beth and Viv who also came back to the flat with you both since they all seemed to have shared one car.

"What do we do?" Lia questions.

"Well, there is a third option," Beth chimes in.

"What's that?" Leah furrows' her eyebrows in confusion.

Beth starts to turn to look at Viv with a coy smirk on her face, "Viv could you..."

"No, no, definitely not!" Vivs' quick to catch on to what her girlfriend was about to say and protests against the idea, "You heard what Y/N was like in Melbourne, I'm goin' to Scotland-- I'm not dealing with that!"

Spoiler alert, you do in fact end up going to Scotland.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal women x reader #scribblesofagoonerr #kim little x reader #leah williamson x reader #chaos fc

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ivybucky · 1 year ago

Text

First Time - b.b. x gn!reader

Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.

a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k

Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)

Masterlist

Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past.

Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible.

The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.

“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.

Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”

Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”

He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously).

Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore.

He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”

—

The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.

“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar.

Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”

With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”

He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”

You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”

Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”

Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”

You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”

The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”

Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window.

“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”

Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.”

He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal

Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.”

Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride.

—

The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker.

Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.

Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.

Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.

To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.

John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity.

“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”

You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”

He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”

“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”

You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”

____

The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana.

You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.

He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.

The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family.

You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”

You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again.

“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?”

He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”

You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”

Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”

You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”

Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”

You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer. “And you? Do you need me?”

Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”

You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs.

You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”

Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x gn!reader #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes #tfaws!bucky x reader #tfaws!bucky barnes x reader #tfaws!bucky #bucky barnes fluff #songfic?#songfic

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