#and the two that start with him looking over his shoulder both gut-punch me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckybabesonly · 4 months

Text

as long as we're together (does it matter where we go?)

Summary: You don't want to be a burden to Bucky, knowing he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!OC

Genre: Angst

Length: 7.8k

Two years ago

“I don’t think I want to be with you anymore.”

Bucky had expected it. Weeks of you being distant, making secret phone calls, avoiding his touches like they physically hurt you. Countless times Bucky had asked, what's wrong?, only for you to shut him down and say that everything was fine. Bucky was sick of hearing that empty, meaningless mantra, but it didn’t mean that he reveled in your confession now.

Even though it didn't come as a surprise, it still felt like a punch to the gut. It physically winded him to hear those words leave your lips.

He wondered what he did wrong. He wondered where they went wrong. They were so in love, so wonderfully content in each other's company. You were his person. Steve had once told Bucky that he would find someone unexpectedly, when Bucky made an off-hand comment about how lucky he was to have met Peggy.

“You’ll find your Peggy.”

Things had been perfect. Or maybe Bucky had just been in denial, ignoring all the problems between you because he thought that his feelings for you triumphed over everything, no matter what hardships you may have been suffering from. How could he ever face the reality that you might actually leave in pursuit of something better?

Now, Bucky’s chest was tight with an indescribable feeling, both of you stood in your shared apartment. Your belongings stuffed into a black suitcase, Bucky’s heart in pieces on the hardwood floor.

He had expected it, but it didn't stop him from wanting to die.

"Why?" It was all he could ask. He wanted to know the reason, wanted to understand. Wanted to know if he could fix it. He was desperate to make you stay.

Bucky stared at your face. You looked so...indifferent. Unattached, in contrast to the woman he had met all those years ago. Where had the softness in your eyes gone? Why couldn’t you meet his pleading gaze, even now? At what point did your feelings for him start to fade, and was there anything he could have done to salvage it?

Your face was a blank slate, emotionless, and it made Bucky feel a truly troubling combination of sadness and anger. It was as if you had already said your goodbyes to their relationship, completely ready to move on whilst Bucky was still trying to process your words. You were ready to leave him behind to mourn.

“I don’t think we’re right for each other,” you had said quietly. “I don’t think we can give each other what we need.”

"Bullshit," Bucky said, his voice cracking. You grimaced ever so slightly at his tone, still unable to meet his eyes. "How can you say that?"

He took a step forward; you matched it with a retreating step, but with wide strides he seized your wrists. He silently willed you to say something which could somehow lessen the excruciating pain.

“Will you just look at me?”

He wanted so badly for you to meet his stare, to find some source of comfort within your eyes which usually held so much love for him.

Finally, you relented and lifted your head. They did not fill Bucky with any hope. You pressed your lips together firmly as he searched your face desperately for any sign of residual affection.

"We - we're in love. How can you say after all these years that we're not right for each other? For fuck's sake, will you just tell me what happened?"

"People change, Bucky," you said softly. The look on your face - was it sadness, or apathy? "We've become too distant."

"And whose fault is that?" Bucky released you then. He was so angry, wanting to elicit some sort of reaction from you, that he wanted to punch the wall beside them. It made him feel nauseous at how stoic you were now, like a piece of unyielding rock. He knew you hated it when he took his anger out physically. You had been the one to teach him how to manage his rage more constructively, to talk things out and use his words rather than his fists.

"Are you trying to say it's mine?" Your tone was sharp, finally demonstrating some emotion. "Are you saying that all those nights waiting for you to come back home, all those evenings alone whilst you stayed at the Tower, all those hours I spent staring at the four walls of this apartment were my fault?"

"You left me!" Bucky retorted, gritting his teeth. "You left me long before today! You think I haven't noticed? You can barely stand touching me. You're always on your phone, always texting, always out seeing your 'friends'," he said, making air quotes. "I asked Wanda, she said you haven't been meeting her or your other friends for weeks. Who's this 'friend’? Who the fuck is it that's so important that you can't spare any time for me, never mind your actual friends?"

A long, pregnant pause filled the air, an indecipherable mask on your face once more. Bucky’s eyes were wet, and if he hadn't been so angry, he would've seen the way your lower lip was trembling ever so slightly, the way it did whenever you were trying not to cry. It had been the biggest telltale sign for him over the years to know when you were upset and trying your best to hide it.

He was usually so good at reading you, but he was blinded with sadness.

"Fine," you said eventually, slicing the silence with a shaky exhale. "I'm seeing someone else."

You might as well have struck Bucky across the face.

Suspecting it and hearing the words fall from your lips were two different things. He physically reeled back in anguish as he stared at you. He took in the sight of his girlfriend in front of him, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. This was, without a doubt, the woman he had met five years ago. The woman he spent five years loving. The woman whom he recognized no longer.

"Why?" Bucky whispered, all the fight leaving his body. He physically seemed to sag, forehead creasing at all the other questions running through his mind, visions of you being touched and fucked by some faceless, nameless man.

You were almost pitiful in the way you looked at Bucky, and he hated it.

"I care for you, Bucky. But I’m not in love with you anymore. And I'm sorry I had to do this to you. Things just got out of control."

I’m not in love with you anymore.

You offered no further information, but he had stopped listening, anyway. The finality in your voice pierced him slowly, tortuously, through the heart. He barely moved when you took your suitcase and pulled it out behind you, out of their apartment. Out of his life.

The door slammed shut.

Present day

You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Mercedes Knight & Samuel Wilson

Sam had become Bucky’s closest confidant in the past few years, and the latter had been a close witness as Sam met Mercedes ‘Misty’ Knight, a former NYPD officer who had somehow become roped into their crazy world. It was no surprise to Bucky when they announced their engagement just six months into dating.

Bucky found himself being pulled into their wedding planning discussions far too often. He tried to keep an amused smile at bay whilst listening into Misty and Sam’s wedding talk at the Tower. They were using one of the many conference rooms - a Knight-Wilson union was official business, Misty insisted.

"Are you bringing a date?" Misty asked suddenly in the middle of everything, the question directed at Bucky.

"Of course he's bringing a date," Sam smirked. "Heard things with Sharon are going well, right?"

Bucky smiled non-committedly, shrugging. "She's great." It didn’t go unnoticed by Sam that this didn’t quite answer his question.

"You two look good together," Misty offered. She glanced at her watch and widened her eyes theatrically, grabbing Sam’s hand. "Oh crap, we need to go meet with the wedding planner."

"But it feels like we just sat down," Sam complained.

"There's no rest for the bride and groom, Sam," Misty said, pulling her fiancé out of his seat as she waved goodbye at Bucky.

As soon as they departed, the smile on Bucky’s face dimmed. He was beyond happy for his two friends, he really was - but every couple he knew was a fresh reminder of his own failed love life.

Ever since you, he hadn't been in a long term relationship. Sharon is different, he told himself, and she was. They had been friends for a long time, and of course spent a lot of time together carrying out missions and the like. Over time, somehow, they had gotten closer, and one day Sharon had just asked him, “So when are you going to ask me out, Barnes?”

At that point, Bucky was still frequently thinking about you. Sharon had never met you before, but Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if she had heard stories about you from the others, since he had been notoriously affected by the breakup. Even though he was dealing with the aftershocks of the broken relationship, he was forcing himself to get past it.

They had been dating for two months now, and it only seemed right for Sharon to be his date at the wedding.

He had moved on. He was no longer the depressed, dark wreck he was when you left.

Sometimes it’s better to lie to yourself than to face the reality.

“You invited Bucky’s ex to the wedding?” Misty asked curiously.

“Uh, yeah. She’s not just his ex,” Sam explained gently. “She’s my friend too, and I haven’t seen her since she left town.”

"You told Bucky?"

"Nope," Sam snorted, shaking his head. "I can't. I don't think he'd turn up if I did. I want them both there on the day - I'm sure they can be civil for one night."

“I wonder how Bucky will react," his future wife pondered.

Sam shrugged. Not well, probably.

"What else can I do? I can’t not invite her, I really want her to be there. You never met her, so you don’t know, but she’s been through some shit.”

“I know, I know, you told me,” Misty said. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. Do you think she'll be okay seeing Bucky again? Especially if he'll be there with Sharon?"

"She said she can handle it. She would be happy to see that Bucky was happy. She was the one who practically begged me to encourage him to move on."

“Do you think he has?”

Sam paused, considering the question carefully.

“He has to.”

Several weeks later, Misty Knight and Sam Wilson were officially wed at the local registration office. The day was full of hugs, cacophonous laughter, friends and family, and Bucky watched with a wide beam on his face as he witnessed his friends glow. Those kinds of smiles were few and far between nowadays, but he was truly happy for once.

"They look so good together," Sharon murmured as hundreds of guests filled the hotel ballroom, the party commencing in full swing. The newlyweds were in the center of the room, Misty being twirled around wildly by a laughing Sam before his wife collapsed against his chest in fits of giggles, looking up into his eyes adoringly.

More and more people joined them on the dance floor after the conclusion of their official first dance.

"Barnes, would you like to dance?" Sharon asked suddenly with a smile, extending a hand.

Bucky chuckled, allowing her to take his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.

An hour passed, and Bucky had to truthfully say that he was enjoying himself, assisted by all the alcohol he had consumed. Sharon was draped all over him as they swayed to the music, and Bucky found himself appreciating the feel of her body against his all too much, the scent of her intoxicating. His hands felt the fabric of her silky, emerald green dress, buried his nose into Sharon's blonde hair, sighing softly as he tightened his grip on her waist.

Her perfume was strong and woodsy, like a forest. It irritated his nose ever so slightly. You had preferred a more subtle, floral perfume, one that smelt like sakura blossoms.

Sharon was more confident and seductive in the way she danced, whilst you used to always let yourself become putty in his arms, enjoying how he took the lead and managed to make you look like you knew how to dance despite your two left feet.

However, despite the differences, if Bucky closed his eyes and just tried a little harder, he think he could pretend that -

"Sorry to interrupt.”

Bucky pulled away from Sharon suddenly, and he turned to mock glare at Sam. "What do you want, Wilson?"

"Need to borrow you for a minute," Sam said, an undecipherable expression on his face. Bucky tried to see where Misty had disappeared off to, but saw no trace.

"Um, sure..." Bucky tried to read Sam’s face but gleaned nothing.

"I'll just go say hi to Natasha," Sharon said, giving Bucky’s forearm a squeeze before she disappeared.

Sam’s smile faded, and he caught Bucky’s arm in a vice grip. "I need to tell you something. Don't get mad, okay?"

"What?" Bucky scowled as Sam dragged him to the side of the room, weaving through the crowds of guests. "What good news starts with, ‘don’t get mad’? Are you gonna tell me you want to run out on Misty or something?" He joked.

Sam pulled him out through one of the open French doors which led to a pretty, outdoor stone balcony. He shut them behind him as Bucky continued to babble, a little tipsy from the champagne he'd had. "I gotta tell ya, if she asks me to kick your ass I will literally do so -”

"Bucky," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "She’s here." Meeting Bucky’s nonplussed eyes, your name rolled off Sam’s tongue in clarification.

He felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs as he stared back at Sam, who looked uncharacteristically anxious.

“What?" He asked hoarsely, instantly sobering up. “What do you mean?”

Chills were running through his body. The name he had avoided for years was suddenly causing him to feel breathless. How did you still have such an affect on him?

"She couldn't make it to the ceremony earlier today, but she just arrived."

"You - you invited her here? She’s here, now?"

"Yes," Sam replied, nodding. "I invited her.” He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest almost defiantly.

Bucky was speechless for a moment, taking a step back and scoffing. He shook his head. “Do you remember what she did to me?”

“I'm sorry, Buck..."

Bucky suddenly laughed, startling Sam. His laugh was curt, humorless. "What are you sorry for? I'm over her, Sam. It was two years ago. I haven't seen her in two years. I don't care anymore," he said quickly. Too quickly.

"Listen -"

"Look, it's okay." Bucky raised his hands in small surrender. “You have the right to invite whoever you want. I’m not mad. But I just don’t want to be held accountable for whatever happens now.”

He turned and wrenched the French doors open with such force that the handle buckled slightly. The noise inside the ballroom spilled out to replace the painful silence on the balcony.

He disappeared inside before Sam could say anything else, and he tried to hide it, but Sam could clearly see that his hands were shaking as he marched inside.

For the next twenty minutes, Bucky found sanctuary in the restrooms. He stood inside the stall, trying to stop himself from mentally collapsing.

He didn’t know what was happening. He had never felt this overwhelming panic rush over him before, immobilizing him. Anger, sadness and yearning swirling inside a melting pot of emotions that was crippling him.

She was here. The woman he hadn't seen in two years, the woman who broke his heart, the woman who betrayed him, the woman who left him in tatters.

Your infidelity had had an unforeseen impact on him. When he first found out, he was devastated. Terrified of how you became someone he didn’t recognize - or had you always been someone capable of betraying him, just good at hiding it?

You had poisoned all the happy memories they had once shared. Bucky found himself recounting all the years you were together, micro-analyzing everything, wondering if there was a hidden lie behind it all.

That was one of the things which made him angriest. You turned all the beautiful years of your relationship into a lie. None of it was real, Bucky had told himself.

You crushed him.

Of his feelings, anger prevailed, slowly simmering to the surface, like a volcano about to erupt. How dare you walk back into his life like this? He would show you, Bucky thought with determination. He was over you. He had no reason to be angry, he thought bitterly, because you were nothing to him.

Just like Bucky was nothing to you.

When he emerged from the toilets, the first thing he did was find Sharon. She looked relieved to see him, although confusion was clear on her face as she eyed Bucky.

"Where have you been? Are you feeling okay?" She commented, brow furrowed with concern.

"I'm fine," Bucky assured her. "Have you seen Sam?"

Sharon pointed, puzzlement still painted across her face, and Bucky snapped round quickly.

And there you were.

It was as if you had never left. As if the past two years filled with Bucky trying to eradicate every memory and feeling he had for you had never happened, because as soon as Bucky’s eyes found you through the crowd, everything came collapsing back down on top of him like an avalanche. Suffocating.

You were still so beautiful, strikingly so. Like a burning beacon among the crowd, Bucky’s eyes found your face as easily as anything. For a second, he allowed himself to ignore anything except you, and how the sight of you still managed to take his breath away.

You looked thinner than he remembered, your face gaunt. Bucky frowned slightly at this acute observation and found himself wondering if you had been taking care of yourself.

"Barnes? You okay?"

Bucky registered Sharon shaking his arm, but his eyes remained fastened on yourself and Sam. Neither of you had spotted Bucky yet, who was rooted to the spot like a statue. Sam’s mouth was moving, words that Bucky couldn't hear escaping his mouth, but his expression was angry. Almost as if he was scolding you for something.

"I have to...I..." Bucky stumbled over his words, voice faint. He could feel those tendrils of anger slowly seizing him again, wisps at first, until they grew more and more potent by the second. He remembered every single thing he felt when you left him, and instead of trying to hold back the emotions, Bucky just saw red.

"Let me introduce you to someone," he said suddenly, his voice strained as he took Sharon's hand.

"You said you were better," Sam said, expression torn.

"I am," you lied, trying to put on a smile. Truth was, you were exhausted, just like how you always felt. The ballroom was so crowded and loud, and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep, which you would the moment you finished congratulating Sam and Misty. And perhaps, even though you didn't want to admit it, you wanted to catch a glimpse of Bucky, too.

"Look at you, you're -"

“Sam, please don’t,” you interrupted gently. “Just drop it, please? It’s your big day, I don’t want you to worry about anything else.”

Sam opened his mouth to talk, but stopped suddenly, his eyes flitting to look behind you.

"Hey."

You froze. You knew that voice, of course. Heard it enough times, the deep, gravelly voice that had once whispered sweet pet names, proclamations of love, and plagued your dreams ever since you left him.

You had longed to hear his voice again, hear your name being spoken lovingly. His voice was your favorite sound in the world. Except tonight, hearing it for the first time in two years, you heard nothing but ice.

"Bucky?" You turned slowly, and your breath hitched. He was just the way you remembered him. Even more handsome, if possible. Clad in a sleek black tux, tall and dark and sexy, everything you had missed and dreamed of, and...

He was holding another woman’s hand.

"Bucky," Sam repeated, voice tense. Bucky could hear the underlying warning.

"It's been a while," he said stiffly, acting as neutral as he could. As if he hadn't spent months after their terrible break up being a shell of who he used to be, barely repaired even now. Bucky felt like any other venomous words from your mouth would shatter him again, but he had to take the chance. He had to talk to you, show you that he had moved on. He didn't care about you anymore, or how you so ruthlessly left him.

"Yes," you said weakly, smiling softly. God, he still thought that you looked beautiful, clad in a periwinkle blue dress, a thick coat draped around your shoulders. You were shivering, and Bucky resisted the urge to ask you what was wrong. Now that he was closer, he could see that didn’t look well at all. You had dark circles under your eyes and your collarbones were too prominent, your gaze devoid of any livelihood.

You glanced at Bucky’s fingers interlaced with a gorgeous blonde. You had seen her on the news before, you were pretty certain. Your smile forcibly stretched wider, blinking a few times, not knowing what to do with yourself.

"This is Sharon," Sam said, clearing his throat and exchanging introductions.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Sharon said politely. She was gorgeous, you thought, watching as she sent Bucky a subtle, questioning glance.

Bucky was still staring at you, unmoving. You took the initiative first.

“Bucky, can we talk for a second?"

You could see the way he was trying to control himself by the way his lips stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He gave a curt nod. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Sharon and the other hundreds of wedding guests.

“Let’s leave these two to catch up,” Sam said lightly, trying to hide his discomfort as he led Sharon away.

"So now you want to talk?" Bucky asked as soon as they were out of earshot, his voice sharp. You cringed, almost folding into yourself at Bucky’s hard stare.

"Yes," was all you managed to whisper, eyes darting to the ground to avoid meeting his glare. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

You turned and walked towards the exit of the ballroom, turning back to look at Bucky. He followed after a second, his jaw set like stone as you led the way to the empty lobby outside, away from the noise.

"It's been a while, Buck.” You voice was sad as you turned to face him again.

"Yes," he said, fighting an internal battle. He was so torn. Seeing you again made him want to wrap you up in his arms like he would've done two years ago, when you were still together. And feeling like that made Bucky angry. What right did you have to make him feel this way? Who gave you the right to mess with Bucky’s heart again after so long?

"How have you been?" You asked eventually after a painfully awkward silence.

He scoffed at that. "How have I been?" He repeated incredulously. He doubted you really wanted to hear about all those nights he spent in his apartment, refusing to talk to his friends, being a complete social introvert (more than he usually was) because he felt like he just couldn't live anymore. Not without you.

"Great. Fantastic," he said without a shred of sincerity.

You stared at him for the longest time, your lips pressed into a thin line. You looked so regretful that it made Bucky feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," you said eventually, your voice wavering like you were struggling to breathe properly. "I'm so sorry for leaving you like that. We...we could have ended things better. You didn't deserve how I treated you."

You flinched when Bucky scoffed derisively. He dropped any remaining restraints he had previously put in place, letting all his feelings run free.

"Are you kidding me? Why? Why are you coming back here and apologizing after all this time?" He felt like he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration as he stared at you, making sure to keep his distance lest he found himself wanting to pull you closer. God, it was all so confusing. He despised you, and yet seeing you here in the flesh was everything he had ever wanted in the last few years.

He hated how you were making him feel.

"Look, it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done," he spat through gritted teeth, all the while completely unaware of how your heart clenched painfully at Bucky’s scornful eyes. “Do you have any idea how unfair this is? You fucked up big time, disappeared off the face of the earth, then come back standing in front of me now asking how I am?”

“I know. You’re right, about everything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”

“No. You have no right to do this,” Bucky seethed. “You have no right to come back here and try to - what, settle your guilt? Make amends?”

You didn’t say anything, choosing to let him vent instead.

“I still remember the way you left. What you did. I will never forgive you for that. So don’t you dare stand in front of me today with all this bullshit and expect me to have something nice to say.”

"You really hate me, don't you?" You asked then, taking Bucky off guard. You lifted your head properly to stare at him, and the look in your eyes was unsettling.

"I hate you," Bucky confirmed unwaveringly, his voice hard. "I hate what you did to me and by extension, you."

You didn't respond. You bit your lower lip hard, trying desperately not to cry in front of him. Your heart hurt so much.

It was the worst feeling in the world, maybe, seeing the man you loved so dearly tell you that he hated you. It was excruciating, the clenching inside your chest as Bucky’s words rang in your head.

"I know my apologies will never be enough. I just wanted to see if you're happy now," you whispered.

"I'm happy," Bucky replied almost immediately. "I'm happy with Sharon. Does that bother you? Did you hope that I'd still be pining after you? I'm not that pathetic anymore." The barriers were broken, and the hurtful words were falling from Bucky’s mouth, two years worth of it.

“I never said you were pathetic,” you retorted, slightly indignant. “I’m glad that you’re happy.”

Bucky was breathing hard, unconvinced by your words.

“And how's the man you left me for?"

"He...it didn't work out," you shrugged, trying to keep your face as straight as possible.

"Good," Bucky said harshly. "Because you don't deserve happiness." If he wasn't so mad, he wouldn't say such irrational things. But he just wanted you to hurt. He wanted you to feel all the pain you caused.

Bucky pretended he didn't hear you gasp. He pretended that he didn't see your eyes gloss over at the sheer amount of hate in his voice.

"Okay," you said finally, your voice clearly shaking. "Okay," you repeated again, nodding your head. Bucky watched you take a step back, away from him.

“I -”

“I'm sorry, Bucky. Please take care," you interrupted, smiling sadly before you turned and walked away as quickly as possible.

That was not how you envisioned the reunion to go. All you wanted was to apologize, know that he was happy, so that you could go in peace.

But maybe that was the consequence of your decision. Maybe he was just always going to hate you for the rest of his life and remember you as someone awful.

You didn’t know that all Bucky wanted to do was run after you. Tell you to stop. He wanted to apologize and tell you how he didn’t mean a word of what he just said.

Rage and pride kept him shackled, and he watched your retreating back, feeling like a coward.

The last thing Bucky expected when he opened his apartment door a few days later was Sam’s dirty glare.

"You can be a mean son of a bitch, do you know that?”

"Hello to you too,” Bucky retorted.

“Why did you say all that stuff to her?” Sam asked, pushing his way past Bucky.

Bucky closed the door, knowing exactly who he was referring to.

"Why is this any of your business?"

"You acted like a dick!" Sam said furiously.

“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done something like that on your special day. But-”

“I want you to feel sorry to her.”

"She left me,” Bucky exclaimed. "You were there, Sam, you saw how fucked up she made me. She cheated on me! You want me to apologize to her?” His face was incredulous.

“You’re so fucking frustrating.”

“Oh, excuse me for not being the bigger person,” Bucky sneered. “But you don’t know how she made me feel, Sam, so don’t you dare try to give me a fucking lecture now.”

Sam was quiet for the longest time, looking exasperated. He stared up at the ceiling, sighing.

“Bucky, look man. She never cheated on you,” Sam said finally, an apologetic look in his eyes.

The apartment became filled with nothing but the sounds of Bucky’s heavy breathing.

“What are you talking about?” He spat, realizing now that Sam knew something he didn’t.

Sam let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. But fuck it, man, cause I think this is messed up. She’s sick, Bucky," he said solemnly. "Like, really sick."

Two years ago

"It's cancer, Sam."

You physically couldn't cry anymore. You had done enough of that the day the doctor had told you, your eyes puffy and swollen. Funnily enough, the first person you had sought out wasn’t your boyfriend, but rather his best friend.

Bucky wasn’t even in town that weekend, and you really didn’t want to tell him over the phone. In fact, you never wanted to tell him. How do you tell the man you love that you're dying?

"You can get treatment, right?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. It’s not looking good. They're doing some sort of new clinical trial in England, but even that’s a long shot. I - I’m going to try, though.”

Sam sat up straighter. “And Bucky?”

"You can't tell him," you said firmly. You had thought about it all night, and you knew you couldn't let him know. You didn't want to put him through something like this. "My father had cancer too, Sam," you said softly. "He died in so much pain, he had so much treatment but it didn't help. He was throwing up all the time, having fevers, his body was so weak, and by the end he wasn’t the same anymore. I don't want him to see me like that."

“But-”

“No buts,” you said. You had given it enough thought already. You knew that you would have to be very, very lucky to make it through this - the end was essentially inevitable. There was no way you would make Bucky bear witness to you succumbing to this illness the same way you had to watch your father.

It was the worst time of your life. You had told Bucky about it in the past, as he had never had a chance to meet your father since he passed away years before you met Bucky. Knowing what you did, you would never inflict that same experience on him.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I have to leave him.” You had been preparing yourself for what you needed to do all night. "If I go, there's a chance I might not come back, you understand that, right?"

"Don't say things like that," Sam said forcefully, clenching your hand. "Just stop. Bucky will support you all the way, you know that!"

"That’s exactly why I have to go by myself. I can't be selfish, Sam. I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I can’t make him drop everything to make me his number one priority. Looking after me will take time and constant care. If I go to England, he will abandon everything and come. Manhattan is his home.”

Sam looked anguished and you knew that he was disagreeing with everything you had just said, but you plowed on.

"It’s not just a matter of time and effort. If he stays, he will watch me die, and I don’t want him to do that.” You began to cry, and Sam hugged you, wishing he could say something comforting.

“It’s okay," you said through the tears, even though every fiber in your body was telling you the opposite. You had been repeating these words to yourself all night, as if you would believe it if you said it enough times. "It’ll be okay."

Maybe you were being stupid, but you didn't care. You knew Bucky loved you with his body and soul, as did you. But you weren’t going to let him suffer over your illness. You wouldn't let the person you cared most about in the world see you slowly deteriorate.

You had been witness to how your father was clearly in a depressive state, and yet tried his hardest to pretend to be happy and fine around other people. You didn’t know if you had the strength or bravery to even pretend.

You began distancing yourself. Stopped trying to make conversation with Bucky, until the long, endless, random talks you used to share diminished into curt sentences. You stopped waiting for Bucky to come home, simply pretending that you didn't care. You became more secretive, furtively hiding your calls with your doctor and your mother.

There was no other man. You loved him and only him, and had been nothing but faithful. You didn't know what hurt more: having to lie to Bucky or the fact that he so easily believed you would betray him like that.

In the end, you had really regretted fabricating a story of infidelity. You should have just gone your separate ways without making him think that you had been unfaithful. But at that time, you wanted to find a quick solution that would make Bucky voluntarily detach himself from you. It seemed like a wise decision, but you really, really wish you hadn’t let him believe that you didn’t love him. It was truly the worst feeling in the world.

It was all over in a few weeks. You packed your things and left, trying not to cry with every heavy step you took towards the door of your apartment. You knew you were making the best decision for them both, surely.

Time would heal Bucky, and he would be happy again one day.

It just couldn’t be with you.

Present day

"She just didn’t want to feel like a burden to you, man," Sam said, shaking his head. "Why did you have to say all those things to her at the wedding?"

Bucky could register nothing else after Sam finished explaining everything. He was in disbelief, though he knew that there was no way Sam would fabricate a story like that.

Now, he could only think of the way he had shouted at you. The way he told you how much he hated you. The way you had left.

"Where is she?" Bucky whispered.

"She’s leaving today," Sam said tersely. "She’s going back to England. She was real sick for a long time, and she recovered a few months ago, but the cancer came back.”

He slipped a hotel business card into Bucky’s hand. “This is the address she’s staying at," Sam said.

He grasped it like a lifeline, eyes unable to see Sam standing in front of him. His vision was completely filled with images of you.

"Go," Sam said forcefully. "Go and find her.”

The tears wouldn't stop falling.

You didn't know words could hurt so much. Sure, you had expected Bucky to hate you, but you weren’t prepared for the way every single word seemed to embed themselves into your skin like splinters into your heart.

They were once so happy. They were so perfect.

You hated yourself. Hated yourself for getting ill, for ruining what you had. The logic was irrational, but the self-hatred had become second nature.

You had spent the last few days holed up in your hotel. You had planned to use the time to see a few friends before returning to England, but you no longer had the heart.

You left your room that morning only because Wanda was furious that she missed you at the wedding, and you agreed to have coffee with her. She almost cried at the sight of you, but you put on a brave face, refusing to talk about Bucky. You begged her if you could just talk about happy topics and she eventually obliged, smiling sadly when you hugged each other goodbye.

“I’ll see you again, dear,” Wanda had said, and you hoped to God she was right.

As soon as you got inside your hotel room, you felt a switch click internally.

Everything hurt. You were tired, unhappy and you really didn’t know if you would ever make it out of this emotional blackhole. You felt so weak, like you would keel over at any given moment.

Cancer really was a bitch.

You kicked off your shoes and entered the bathroom. You lay down in the bathtub, fully clothed, turning the cold water on until you were almost completely submerged, wanting to numb all the pain inside your body and mind.

You eyes were red and swollen, and you couldn't remember crying so much since that day the doctor diagnosed you. Why was life so unfair? You wanted your old life back again. The life where Bucky didn't detest you, the one where he was happily and wonderfully in love with you.

You lay back, letting the water cover you completely. You closed your eyes, your hair gently swirling around your face. You opened your mouth and screamed, bubbles erupting to the surface.

Eventually you emerged, gasping and coughing, your tears hot in contrast to your frozen face. Your body wracked with sobs, shaking uncontrollably.

You sank back down into the water, your mouth opening once more to scream in uncontrollable rage. It was cathartic, your fists clenched into balls as you willed the feelings inside you to just - disappear.

When you opened your eyes beneath the water, you nearly gasped at the sight of a blurry, warped figure above you. You didn't have time to do anything when arms were suddenly encasing themselves around you, lifting you to the surface.

You spluttered and coughed, your ears assaulted by the voice that once whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"- the fuck are you doing? Are you okay?"

Bucky.

You blinked past the water in your eyes, bewildered at the sight of him, kneeling beside the bathtub with his hands gripping your shoulders. His bright blue eyes were scared, wide open with concern.

You were startled at his sudden appearance, unable to say anything as he scooped you out, lifting you with ease. You were clearly in shock and scared.

You collapsed against him as he sat down on the bathroom floor with you in his arms.

"What were you doing?” Bucky was appalled as he pulled you close to him, watching how you continued to weep, blinking blearily at him. Your body was ice cold, every inch of you soaked.

He whipped a towel down from the railing beside you, wrapping it around your body as you shivered uncontrollably.

"Bu - Bucky?" You asked, as if you couldn't fathom why he was here. You were almost convinced you were hallucinating.

"Fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes," Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he tried not to cry. He had so much to say to you. He wanted you to know how sorry he was, how he didn't mean anything he said, but now wasn’t the time. He had to be strong for you.

You felt like a baby as Bucky removed your soaking wet garments until you were naked, then immediately swaddled you with more towels. He picked you up completely off the floor and took you out of the bathroom.

He chose to place you down on the edge of the bed, positioning himself to kneel down in front of you.

"Bucky," you whispered, voice thick, trying to pull away from him. “I think you should just leave me alone."

He stiffened. It scared him to hear you talk like this, to see you look at Bucky with such defeat in your eyes.

“No,” he said resolutely. “I'm here now, okay? I'm here, I'm not leaving, and I need you to be with me. I need you here, talking to me.”

"I can't. I can't do this anymore. Just go, please."

Bucky looked at you then. Really looked at you. The woman he loved and misunderstood for so long was now a trembling wreck in front of him, skin paper thin and trembling like a leaf. You looked so vulnerable and sad, and it made his heart twist.

Bucky suddenly held you tight against his chest, tucking his nose against the crook of your neck, and you didn't resist.

"Do you have any idea how much I hate myself? I hate myself for letting you go through this alone. I hate myself for telling you all those lies that night. I love you, I love you, I love you," Bucky said, wishing that you would see it.

“Don’t.”

“I wish you had told me. I would have helped you. You should have told me. I can’t believe you -”

You realized now that Sam must've told him the truth, and you sighed softly.

"I'm not good for you, Bucky," you whispered. "I will only ever hurt you, put you through more pain."

"I know everything now," Bucky said firmly. "No matter what happens, I will gladly endure it as long as it means we're no longer apart."

“Don’t be so stupid,” you said, anger tearing through your voice, though the tears were still falling. “I’m broken, Buck. I can’t give you a future. Please just find someone else - stay with Sharon.”

“Sharon?” If you hadn’t mentioned her name, Bucky would never have even thought about her. “No - we’re not serious, doll. She was never going to be the one.”

“No,” you insisted. “If not her, then fine, find someone else. Just not me.”

“Why aren’t you listening?” Bucky asked furiously. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please don’t do this. I need you." He was desperate to make you see, to make you understand. It was you or nothing. "You don’t know how awful the past few years have been. I don’t want to be apart from you, please.” He was prepared to grovel at your feet and beg.

He hated himself for how easily he gave up two years ago. This time, he was not letting you leave him.

His beautiful blue eyes pleaded with you, and you felt your barricades crumble. Your arms finally moved to wrap around him, and he felt a wave of relief as he encircled you in his arms. You had missed this, the feeling of Bucky holding you so tenderly.

You didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but you wanted to give in so badly and just let yourself be selfish and enjoy what time you could have together. And now that Bucky had you back by his side, he was definitely not going to let you go.

Even if they were in pieces, at least they were together. And Bucky was positive that they could put those pieces back into a whole, as long as you gave it a chance.

"You're so stupid," you said through your tears.

"I don't think so," Bucky said, managing the smallest smile. "Just stupidly in love with you."

You wanted to stay like this forever, entangled in each others arms. He pulled back slowly to study your face, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your lips. He kissed you again, deeper this time, breathing you in.

“You owe me two years of kisses,” he mumbled.

You laughed softly, but it soon died. First, you had a lot of talking to do. You used the following hour to tell him the details about your illness, why you had left, how sorry you were for treating Bucky the way you did when you broke up with him.

"You're so dumb," Bucky had said, sounding furious for a moment. "You had no right to decide something like that for me. You know I would support you.”

"I know, Buck," you had interrupted. "That's exactly why I had to leave. I didn't want you to see me die, okay?"

You had looked like you were about to cry again, so Bucky stopped scolding you immediately. He would never make you cry again, he swore.

"You're here now," he said, kissing your temple. "We're together now. Everything feels...right again."

You swallowed, biting your lip. "I told you, my cancer is back and -"

"You'll get better again," he said, refusing to look at you. You knew that tears were in his eyes. "You'll get better, okay?" His voice wavered slightly.

"It's worse this time, Bucky," you said. "Look at me. I'm practically withering away."

"You'll get better," he said, clenching his teeth.

You didn't say anything, just nestled against Bucky’s chest, relishing the way he wrapped his arms securely around your frame as if you would disappear at any moment.

Maybe he was right. Maybe by some miracle, with Bucky by your side, you would be able to give him all the time in the world.

"I'll try to stick around," you whispered.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky angst #sebastian stan #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x you #bucky

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nana-au · 6 months

Text

JJK Men React to Finding Out You Like Them

G.Satoru, G.Suguru, I.Yuji, F.Megumi

(I got carried away with Gojo's.. mb)

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

G.Satoru: You could not stand him and his stupid, annoying, ugly (undeniably pretty) face.

Shoko and Geto swore you two bickered like an old married couple. The two of you would scoff, sometimes even pushing each other’s shoulders just to remind the other one who was stronger. It was down right childish the way you both interacted with each other. Pinching and hair pulling. Arguing over who was right and wrong, sometimes even arguing against obvious facts just to piss the other one off. You couldn’t stand his pompous attitude and he couldn’t stand the fact you weren’t in awe of him like he believed you should be. He made every hair on your body stand straight just by his voice or the way his figure loomed over you as he teased you.

“What’s this for?” He mocked, pinching your cheek you dusted with blush.

“None of your business,” you assured him, attempting to punch him in the gut. He would swiftly dodge it, continuing to mock you.

“Surely it isn’t for a boyfriend. I feel bad for any guy dumb enough to be interested in you,” his glasses would slide down his nose as he looked over your figure. You didn’t hesitant to tell him to suck a dick, and it didn’t even cross his mind to not tell you that you wished you could suck his. “I’d never let you though,” he assured you and you would huff out a ‘thank God!’. You would attempt to storm off, but he kept body blocking you, and you were adamant on not making bodily contact with the guy. “Where are you going?” he quizzed and you begged him to drop it - that it was none of his business. You were getting really worked up, more so than usual. His assumption wasn’t necessarily wrong, you were trying to leave for your date with a barista from the coffee shop you frequented in Tokyo. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to let Sensei know. Can’t have you up to no good.”

“Then go tell him!” you huffed. You were going to be running late if the asshole in front of you wouldn’t move. “God Gojo, you are so childish,” he only stuck his tongue out at you. You were about to start shaking with anger and against your better judgment you confessed to him. “Fine! It’s a date, make fun of me all you want when I get back,” your chest was heaving and your blood was hot. To your sudden shock, Gojo stepped out of your way wordlessly and watched as you took off out the doors.

The next few days felt like the Twilight Zone. You did your makeup again and Gojo didn’t even bother to flick your cheeks. When you mentioned to Shoko how nice the weather was, he didn’t argue that it was ‘Just alright’. While Suguru, Gojo, and you were taking turns sparring, he didn’t hide the defeat in his face when you kicked dirt onto him after knocking him on his ass. To you, that was really the last straw. You started to feel evil for continuing your usual antics while he just took it. A few more days went by of you both ignoring each other until one afternoon you were eating lunch with Shoko talking about your date. Geto and Gojo took their usual seats across from you as you both discussed what transpired. “Maybe he doesn’t want to sound needy,” she said when you mentioned he hadn’t texted you back still.

“He probably thinks you're ugly,” Gojo said nonchalantly. It was the first sentence he had spoken to you in days and you had to keep your jaw from dropping to the floor. You weren’t even sure if he really spoke or if you imagined it. Perhaps your brain was filling in the words you wanted to hear from him. Not that you wanted him to call you ugly per se, but the silence from him was worse than the insults.

“So he talks.” His eyes rolled cartoonishly at your words. He stuck a spoonful of rice in his mouth before talking,

“Giv-up,” he mumbled, some rice spilling out of his mouth. Your face contorted with disgust. He swallowed, continuing, “You're unlikeable”.

“Yeah ‘cause you’re so likable yourself,” you scoff. He continued eating and the table dropped it, all choosing to change the topic.

Honestly, you were sure that would be your last conversation with Gojo. You went about your days without his obnoxious presence. You went on another date and were getting fairly close with your favorite barista, even inviting him to meet Shoko. You all agreed to meet up at his cafe and you were awed as he described to you the drinks he made you two. You sipped them and listened as he rambled on about the ristretto shots and the milk foam. Shoko grew bored quickly, but she was happy you were happy.

The bell attached to the door chimed, and the blood in your face drained, leaving you sickly pale. Gojo waved to you, pointing out to Geto where the three of you sat and dragged him along. “What is he doing here?” you frantically asked Shoko. She covered her face to hide her amusement, she had to give it to him, he was about to make this deathly boring conversation into an incredibly entertaining one.

“Since when do you drink coffee?” Gojo asked you, pulling up a chair and sitting next to you. “I thought caffeine made you sick?” he pouted at you, pulling away the latte. He wasn’t wrong, you did tend to feel unwell after having caffeine, but since when did he care?

“I can handle myself, Gojo,” you spat. Gojo ignored you, taking two big gulps from the mug and finishing it then and there.

“Wow you made this?” he asked the guy. He nodded, looking incredibly confused. “Tastes like shit.” With a quickness you were out of your chair and pulling Gojo by the collar of his button down. “Be right back,” he snickered to the barista as you dragged him out the door.

“What is your problem?” You begged. He looked shocked, telling you him and Geto were just walking by when he saw you and Shoko. You were bewildered by the way he was acting, completely stumped as to what you should even say. His hand grabbed yours that was still gripping his collar. He pulled it off and pushed it against the wall, his hand caging yours as he leaned against your intertwined fingers. His eyes watched your lips as you kept opening them to speak, but closing them when you kept losing your words.

“Is this not what you wanted?” His words were breathy and hard to hear. “I know you are doing this-” His free hand gesturing to your figure, “to get a reaction from me.”

“You’ve really lost it now, Gojo,” you couldn’t hide the blush though. He smiled at you regardless, and your legs began to feel weak. It hit you like a truck. His smile was cocky and genuine. It wasn’t coated with his usual delusional smirk, but an all-knowing, teeth-showing grin. It was then you grew nauseous with the knowledge Suguru snitched on your drunk confession.

You hardly remembered that night - Geto had shared his bottle of Jack Daniel’s and you were too much of a lightweight to keep yourself from admitting to him that you enjoyed Gojo’s teasing. That you were infatuated with the white-haired sorcerer and you had really started to like him. That his cocky attitude was not a turn off like you tried to convince yourself and that when he stood over you, making you feel small, you weren’t mad at him but mad you enjoyed the feeling of being towered over by him.

“I’m not dating just to make you jealous,” you tried to stand up for yourself. You really weren’t, the guy just asked you and you had nothing better to do. You got free drinks out of it too- really that was all it was.

“How could I be jealous when I know you like me?”

In Suguru’s defense, when you called him a traitor he assured you it was an accident. He just wanted to get Satoru out of his funk. The day he caught you looking all dolled up, just to find out it was for another man, he couldn’t get out of his own head. He also didn’t understand why he couldn’t. He pestered his best friend for days over it and Suguru had to throw in the towel. You liked him because he heard it from you. And Satoru liked you because he knows his best friend more than anyone.

It was all worth it in the end, because things went back to normal. (Except for the small detail that Satoru and you were now a couple).

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

G.Suguru: The older boy’s reaction made you swoon.

You were a year below him at Jujutsu Tech and you were in awe of his cursed technique and if you were forced to be honest, in awe of him. You must’ve looked like a lost puppy following him around when you insisted on watching him train, joining him to find a snack at the convenience store, and insisting on learning about all the curses he had under his control. He was so kind about it too - always dismissing Gojo when he would groan about how insistent you were. “How can you put up with her? She doesn’t have her own life,” he would say, poking his tongue out.

“She’s just curious, Satoru,” he would reply. He wouldn’t kid himself though, he found you absolutely adorable and didn’t mind having you under his arm all day. You weren’t much younger than him, but you felt as though he held infinite wisdom. Your eyes would twinkle up at him as he shared stories of his missions and his lips would tingle watching yours twitch with ‘oohs” and “ahhs”. He adored the way you would watch him as he ran around the track, shirtless and dripping with sweat. When you joined him he couldn’t help but keep your pace just so he could keep his attention on you. You didn’t know this when you finally confessed, but he was as infatuated with you as you were with him. He was obsessed with how obsessed you were with him. He was by no means struggling in attracting women, but to have you be so casually faithful to him, it was too hard to not take advantage of.

The day you decided to dress up really pretty for your weekly Tuesday walk to Tokyo for lunch at his favorite place was the day you officially confessed. You wore the skirt the two of you saw one day while window shopping - the one he said reminded him of something you would wear. You even applied lip gloss even though you despise the fact your hair always gets stuck in it. “What’s got you looking all pretty?” he would muse.

“Sugu, I like you,” you admitted, quick like pulling off a bandaid. You hadn’t even made it out of the school’s grounds when you confessed. He held out his arm to stop you and blocked the way with his tall figure.

“I already knew that, little one,” he cooed. “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late,” he grabbed your small hand in his and continued forward. It wasn’t an official response, but you knew him so well that it was official enough for you.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

I.Yuji : You swear the boy must be dumb.

Your friends would definitely describe you as the shy type. You never talked out of turn or made your true feelings known so blatantly - but with Yuji - you were really trying. If Yuji said he was hungry, you would always be there to hand him his favorite candy. When his face was caked with dirt and sweat after a mission, you were there with a cloth to clean him up. If he so much as got a paper cut you would insist on applying a bandaid to his finger. You couldn’t tell if you liked helping him more than he liked being helped. He would always smile at you, warm and sincere. His eyes would hold yours, cheeks flushed a light pink. The way he would look at you, head angled down to get a good look at your face, the innocent scrunch of his eyebrows..

“You’re such an amazing friend,” he would say and you had to blink to keep your eyes from rolling back into your head.

One day as he was happily sipping the ice cold tea you bought him, munching on the little pastry you went out of your way to get after he announced - very loudly - how starved he was, you decided enough was enough.

“I like you,” You told him bluntly. He finished chewing his last bite before telling you he liked you too.

“You’re a really good friend,” he smiled. You could feel your body begin to shake as you repeated what you said.

“I like-like you, Yuji. Not friend-like. Like-Like.” Your hands went to grip the grass beneath you, desperately trying to ground yourself. His eyebrows scrunched, as if he was trying to process your confession. You couldn’t hold his eyes when he didn’t immediately respond. You turned your attention to Maki and Nobara who were training not far in front of you. Your eyes couldn’t focus on their figures as your body shouted at you to get up and bury yourself in bed for the day. His hand found your thigh, and you jumped slightly. When your eyes met him again, you swore you never saw him look so serious. His lips were in a thin line, eyes twinkling.

“Maybe I like-like you too,” he spoke only above a whisper and you melted on the spot.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

F.Megumi: The boy was always in his own little world

That’s what you really liked about him. His ability to be quiet, observant, and at times lost in his own thoughts. All though, trying to get him to notice your crush on him would be harder than pulling all of your toenails off one by one. You would lay in Nobara’s bed as she admired the outfits she bought that day, trying her best to ignore your groans.

“I should just give up now,” you whined. You had finished a long winded rant about Megumi, how he never reacted to your attention in the way you craved him to.

“You should give up. I’m sick of hearing it,” Nobara lovingly teased. “Or you could just tell him,” You would gasp at the idea and bury your head into her pillow.

You always found yourself to be the type of girl to read everyone’s feelings. People were like books to you, except for him. Before joining Jujutsu Tech, flirting was second nature to you. But when you saw his messy black hair and cold blue eyes your brain short circuited. You sure would try to flirt though. Giggling at his jokes he thought no one heard or playing with your hair in conversation. You would buy a new perfume and ask him to smell you, or ask if he liked the way you did your makeup that day. He would flush red and obey your asks. He would tell you that you smell great or that your eyelashes looked really pretty, but he would end it there.

A couple days had passed since your rant to Nobara and the four of you were out in Tokyo. Yuji had insisted you all join him to the movies, and with nothing better to do you all obliged. At the theater you paid for your drink and popcorn and made your way to your movie when you noticed Nobara and Megumi weren’t following behind you. You shrugged it off and sat down with Yuji to watch the previews. The lights had already dimmed and the movie just started by the time Nobara came with Megumi in tow. “Sit,” she commanded him, referring to the spot next to you. You watched as Megumi - stiff as a board- took the seat beside you, and continued to shuffle around in his seat trying to get comfortable.

“What happened?” you whispered to him, scared of what Nobara had done to make him act so odd. He didn’t respond and kept his eyes glued to the screen. It went on like that for a while, him still squirming awkwardly in his seat and when a jump scare came on screen and he didn’t react you turned to him again. “You act like you saw a ghost,” you joked to him. He replied dead serious.

“Just saw Nobara, that’s all.”

“What did she do?” You weren’t really sure you even wanted to know. After what seemed like hours of silence he asked if you really did like him.

“Is it true what Nobara said?” Your mouth fell open and he was now completely facing you. You were all there for a screening of a horror movie and right now the main character was in a dark basement making it hard to see any light on Megumi’s face. From what you could see though, he looked flustered but maintained his eye contact with you. Thanks to Nobara it was now or never, and you meekly shook your head at him. He scratched the back of his neck and you could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. Your face was hot watching him process your confession, not sure if you wanted to punch Nobara or thank her for finally putting you out of your misery. Even if it did mean Megumi no longer wanted to be near you. “I’ve just never had someone tell me that,” he finally spoke. ‘I don’t hate you, just give me time to process that,” he asked. You nodded and turned back to the screen, trying to focus on the protagonist dodging death. You had grown as stiff as him and noticing, he put his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly as reassurance. You both were red in the face, eyes glued to the front of the theater but not actually watching what was on it, lost in your thoughts. The process wasn’t smooth for you two, but your confession made Megumi realize his own feelings. Why he felt nervous when you were in the room and why he doubted his words before speaking to you. You both worked on it together, and your confidence with each other grew. It wasn’t long before you two went to Tokyo alone or sat in each other’s room late at night just talking. Megumi was your boyfriend by the end of the year, and you felt as giddy around him as the day you first met him.

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hwayangyeon · 1 year

Text

nsfw bassist!heeseung x drummer!reader // heeseung and you sabotage your metal band's practices by constant fighting so jay tells you to fuck each other // smut, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, hate sex kinda, reader has a vagina, i don't know anything about metal, not proofread // 1k words

your band's practices have never been worse ever since a new bassist joined you. you disliked him the second you saw him, but for your group's sake, you tried to hide your feelings as hard as possible.

as a percussionist you usually start the songs and set up the pace, heeseung follows you right after but you just can't seem to synchronize. whatever you play sounds off, even for metal.

"why the fuck are you so fast? slow down, jesus. i can't keep up," heeseung complained after the 4th time you had to start over the song.

"speed up then? what are you doing with those slow fingers? fingering your mom?" you talked back to him and got ready to practice again.

"what did you just say?" he put his guitar aside and started walking in your direction with the angriest look on his face.

"enough," jay, your vocalist and leader, stopped him and stared at both of you, "you two - go to the bathroom and fuck each other. i'm growing sick of you"

"wha-"

"NOW. if jake and sunghoon don't get the chorus right, they just punch each other in the face and go back to playing. i don't want any more blood on my basement floor, so just go and fuck the shit out of each other."

you couldn't believe what you just heard. but, to be fair, it sounded better than having to deal with a black eye for two weeks. heeseung and you followed jay's finger pointing to his obscure bathroom.

the room was so small that you two barely fit in. unfortunately the ceiling lamp was still working (barely too) so you were able to see the black-haired guy's face. just looking at him makes you heat up.

"show me your tits."

"what?"

"do you want me to get hard, or no? or should i fuck you with your drumsticks?"

"fine," you hissed and pulled up your shirt. you don't really wear bras to your concerts, so you don't bother putting one on to practices. he cupped your breast and the sudden touch sent a shiver down your spine. he's... bold. his finger brushed against your nipple, causing an even bigger pool in your panties.

he moved his hand to your other breast. it was pretty rough from the past 2 hours of playing the guitar, yet it felt like he was melting your skin.

"not bad."

"shut up," you pulled your shirt down and pushed his arm away. there's no way you'd let him do that in any other situation.

"bend over," he said and pointed at the sink behind you.

"you bend o-" you tried to say but he grabbed your hips, turned you around, and pinned you to the cabinet, trapping you with his hands on the counter.

you really couldn't help but push your butt back against him when you felt his bulge poking you as he pressed his whole body onto you. for two people hating each other's guts, your bodies felt like magnets.

he shoved your pants and panties down, then took out his dick and wasted no more time. you were so wet. he pushed his member between your thighs and you covered it completely in your juices. your folds were so slippery, he could barely put his cock in your pussy.

"fuck..." you sighed when he finally entered you after teasing your entrance.

he wrapped his arm around your waist and leaned over your shoulder. a gasp escaped his lips as he thrusts his whole length in.

he nibbled on your neck as his cold jewelry pressed on your back. his face was covered in his hair and a few strands of yours but you could see in the fogged mirror that he's furrowing his eyebrows.

his hand moved under your shirt from your waist to your breast and he squeezed it as he kept pounding into you.

your bodies moved in unison, both of you wanting to fuck the other.

the feeling of his dick stretching your walls apart became so overwhelming, you could barely keep your head up.

"come for me," he whispered into your ear, seeing your expression in the reflection.

"i'm not... coming for you," you struggled to say back.

"what are you going to tell jay then?" he continued kissing and licking your neck, extremely close to the sensitive spot under your ear.

you only gritted your teeth, wanting to stop the moans coming out of your mouth. thank god the guys started playing something the second you went into the bathroom, or else they'd be hearing all sorts of noises your bodies are making. with the guy you can't stand. fuck.

you brought your hand up to his still sweaty from the practice hair and pulled on it with the little power you had left. it was either the lack of oxygen in this small room or him fucking you brainless, but your vision became blurry and him pushing so much onto you didn't help either. you were so close. both to fainting and to your release.

he rode you off your orgasm so well, supporting your tired body with his hand on your chest and arm gripping the sink. he rested his head on your shoulder for a second to catch his breath with you before pulling away from you and brushing his hair away from his face.

even though you were still a little dizzy you quickly picked up your pants and left the bathroom. you both awkwardly walked back to your spots. you sat on your drum stool and he picked up his guitar.

as if nothing happened you resumed your practice and surprisingly, everything went well.

so now, whenever you and heeseung started jumping at each other's throats, jay just yells 'bathroom.' and you two obediently go there.

after hotel.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #after hotel.#heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung smut #heeseung x you #heeseung x yn #heeseung x reader

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fruitjoos · 17 days

Text

don’t you think you deserve it?

art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

summary: art’s playing snake between you and patrick. it’s obvious there’s a reason, so a confession is made.

warnings none

You and Patrick were in the middle of a slightly tense argument, one that had started as a lighthearted disagreement but quickly escalated. He had brought up a conversation he’d had with “a friend,” which quickly soured the mood. Patrick was feeling insecure, convinced that he wasn’t good enough for you, and no matter how hard you tried to reassure him, your words felt like they were bouncing off a wall. It wasn’t you he was listening to, it was this friend of his.

Frustrated, you asked who this so called friend was. Patrick hesitated before finally admitting it was Art. The revelation hit hard. You tried to explain that Art didn’t know what he was talking about, that Patrick needed to stop letting other people’s opinions poison his mind. But instead of understanding, it seemed like Patrick was defending Art, making excuses for why he’d take Art’s word over yours.

That was when you snapped. "If you're so willing to believe everything Art says over what I’m telling you, then maybe you two should be in a relationship instead."

The tension in the air lingered long after the argument died down, so later that evening, you set out to find Art. Unsurprisingly, you found him in the dining hall sitting with Tashi. You barely acknowledged her as you asked if you could talk to him alone. Tashi hesitated, giving Art a wary look, but eventually stood up and left the two of you alone.

Without warning, you smacked Art upside the head, fury bubbling over. “Where the hell do you get off telling Patrick he’s not good enough for me?”

Art, unfazed, rubbed the back of his head and sighed. "That’s not what I said. I told him you deserve better, and if he didn’t think he was that, that has nothing to do with me."

But his explanation did little to calm you, the damage already done.

Art’s casual tone only fueled your anger. You stepped closer, your voice trembling with emotion. "Do you realize what you've done? Patrick’s spiraling because of you. He’s questioning everything between us, and now he thinks I’m settling for him. All because of your careless words."

Art's face hardened, his usual laid-back demeanor shifting to something more serious. "I wasn’t trying to hurt him. Or you. But if he’s doubting himself that much, isn’t that something you should both face?"

"That’s not your call to make!" you shouted, fists clenched at your sides. "You don’t get to decide what’s good for our relationship. You don’t get to plant seeds of doubt in his head just because you think you know what's best for me."

Art's eyes flashed, his calm exterior cracking just a little. "I only said what everyone’s been thinking. You deserve someone who’s not afraid to be everything you need."

Your heart twisted painfully at his words, the weight of them settling in your chest like lead. You took a shaky breath, trying to hold back the storm of emotions threatening to break loose. "Why do you care so much?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, more vulnerable than you intended.

Art froze, his jaw tightening as he looked away for a moment, like he was weighing his response. Then, almost too quietly, he muttered, "Because I’ve seen him doubt himself for too long. And I’ve seen how you deserve someone who doesn’t need convincing to believe they’re enough for you."

His words hung heavy in the air between you, but there was something in his voice that made you pause. It wasn’t just about Patrick anymore, and the realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

"This is about you?" you whispered, scoffing. The accusation barely audible, but it made Art flinch like you’d struck him again.

He didn’t answer at first, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder, avoiding yours. But the silence was answer enough. Your heart thudded painfully in your chest, the weight of the truth crashing over you. Art hadn’t just been talking as Patrick’s best friend. Somewhere along the way, this had become personal for him too.

"Art," you breathed, your voice shaking now for entirely different reasons. "You don’t—"

"I don’t what?" he cut in sharply, his eyes finally meeting yours with raw fustration. "I don’t get to care about you? I don’t get to worry that maybe, just maybe, you’re with someone who’ll never see himself as worthy of you? God, do you know how hard it is to watch that every day and say nothing?"

You stared at him, stunned into silence, as the full weight of his words hit you. This wasn’t just a friendship anymore, not for him. And maybe, you’d been ignoring it for longer than you wanted to admit.

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you forced them back, refusing to let them fall. "You don’t get to make this about you, Art. You don’t get to mess with Patrick’s head just because you—"

"Just because I love you?" he interrupted, the confession ripping out of him like it had been tearing him apart for far too long. The words hung between you, heavy and inescapable. There was no taking them back now.

You felt like everything crashed down in a blur of confusion, anger, and heartache. You had come here to defend your relationship with Patrick, to confront the person who had planted doubt in his mind, but now, now you didn’t even know what you were fighting for anymore.

"You’re selfish," you whispered, the hurt and betrayal clawing at your throat. "Patrick’s your best friend, and you’re doing this to him. To me."

Art looked at you with a hollow expression, the vulnerability he’d let slip quickly fading into something colder, more guarded. "Maybe I am," he admitted, his voice low. "But at least I’m honest about how I feel. Can you say the same?"

Your breath caught in your throat, his words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. Because the truth was, you weren’t sure anymore. Not about Patrick, not about Art, and definitely not about the complicated mess of emotions swirling within you.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, leaving Art standing there in the background, his confession ringing in your ears. “Don’t talk about me with Patrick anymore.”

#challengers fanfic #challengers #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson imagine #patrick zweig imagine

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mattsfavbigtitties · 2 months

Text

Blind, Deaf, and Mute Challenge/ Sturniolo Triplets

Warning: Cussing, purely platonic, playful flirting, Implied chrisxreader, finger sucking.

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

A/n: ngl this took SOOO long🥲 playlist y/n has

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

“Gitchie, gitchie, ya-ya, da-da. Gitchie, gitchie, ya-ya, here.” The video starts with you in front of the camera doing the sprinkler dance.

“Get out the way bitch!” Nick comes into focus and pushes you around the frame. “So, it’s been a good enough gap between the last blind, mute, and deaf challenge. We decided to do it again!” Nick says as he does jazz hands while walking behind the table.

You and the boys go ahead and play rock, paper, scissors to debate which person gets what. Matt and Chris went and Matt won, so he picked mute.

Then Chris and Nick went and Nick won, so he picked deaf which made the youngest mad. Chris had to pick blind, leaving you to choose. You had a fear of the dark and you speak a lot of nonsense, in conclusion you picked to be deaf. And it’s not as bad as the other two because you get to listen to your favorite songs.

Afterwards, everyone put on their respective gear which were the headphones and bandanas. A problem you had to figure out because you left yours in Nick’s room, so you went to run up real quick.

When you get to the ground floor you’re focused on connecting your headphones to your phone. Right before you place them on your head you hear a grunt and something stumble to the floor.

“Matt fucking gut punched me.” Nick stands up slowly and bends over holding onto his stomach with a grimace on his face. You start laughing to yourself as you put your headphones on fully and go to stand behind the table along with the other three crazy kids.

“Y’all, I can’t hear shit.” You slammed your hands on the wood table in front of you as your southern side came out. “Y’all.” Chris mocked a foreign country voice, laughing at you. “I saw your mouth move, bitch! I know you being rude, you fucking hoe!” You shouted out at Chris who only laughed harder in response and flopped himself on the table.

As Matt and Nick get the cupcake pans, measurements and the bowl for the batter, you get the eggs out of the fridge. All while Chris stands there looking like a total doofus, in your eyes.

“What are we doing, Nick? Aye!” Chris hollers, looking for an answer back, shaking his head around to hear anything as you dance around with the eggs in your hands shaking them like maracas. Matt shoves Nick who was in La La Land dancing around.

“AH! Don’t touch me bitch, ew, gross.” Nick backed up into the fridge raising his hands in surrender. Matt slaps him multiple times to get his point across while exaggeratingly pointing his hand towards Chris.

You move around them, putting the eggs in the metal bowl Nick set down while bobbing your head to a beat in your ears. “Nobody wants to see us together, but it don’t matter, no. ‘Cause we gon’ fight, oh yes, we gon’ fight.” You sing softly, placing one hand on both Matt and Nick’s shoulder looking between both of them.

Matt shakes his head walking away to help Chris. “OHH! Chris, are you ready?!” Nick shouts, finally getting what the hand movements meant.

“Yeah! Hello?!” Chris replied, waving his hands around in show. “We’re making cupcakes, Chris!” Nick shouts again, chucking the whisk that was held in his hand just a few seconds prior beside the bowl.

“Damn, took you long enough.” Chris sighed in exaggeration as he felt around for the box of cake mix. Once in his hands, he rips open the box in many pieces and throws it away behind him.

Which landed absolutely everywhere making Matt groan and you laugh who saw the whole thing while Nick was faced the sink dancing again, in his own world. NIck walks back to the table, still dancing and singing of course, just as Chris once again rips open the clear bag of cake mix, feeling around for the bowl and dumping the powder into it.

Next thing you know, you see Chris throw the empty bag to his right, hitting Nick right in the face with leaving him to splutter about, waving his hands around in dramatic effect. “PFFT” Nick blows raspberries, face morphed into disgust with wild eyes as he shoves Chris’ shoulder.

“GOD! I’m right here, you idiot! Can’t you se-oh my God I forgot.” He pops his lips and looks around with his eyes avoiding Matt’s accusing stare. You ignore them, looking into the distance behind the camera while nodding your head to the beat that plays inside your headphones.

Nick takes the bag that landed on the ground and throws it in the trash can. Matt groans, realizing he had to put the box pieces back together to read the instructions.

He sees you in his sight first and hits you on your shoulder multiple times to get your attention. “HUH?” Your eyes widen a bit, trying to get your ears to listen, but it’s useless as Matt can’t even speak.

He gestures to the piece of cardboard in his hand and then points to you, then points again to the floor signaling he wants you to look for the others.

“WhAT?!” You shout, extending your arms in an ‘I don’t know’ pose. Matt sighs heavily and proceeds to exaggerate his previous movements with more umph. You gasp loudly as you finally understand what he’s trying to say.

“OHH, OKAY. I’LL FIND EM!” You point your pointer finger at the ceiling with a confident look on your face. He quickly made a shushing motion with his finger at you.

“Ohhh, whoopsies.” You whisper back leaning in and place the same finger from the air to your lips in an agreement and go crawling on the floor looking for any other cardboard scraps. Matt looked around with furrowed brows and shook his head, weirded out with you crawling on the floor, paying attention to the other two who were currently running around the table.

While Matt takes care of them, you crawl around on all fours looking for the reminisce of the box, also while avoiding the crazy men running around up top. Soon enough you found enough to make out the instructions and everything needed.

You stand up quickly from behind the camera, where one piece had surprisingly been, scaring Nick in the process.

”A-OH, my God!” Nick started laughing at himself. Resulting in Matt stifling a laugh and you bursting out loud laughing, walking over to the middle child and handing him all the cardboard pieces from the ground.

“OKAY, what is fucking happening!?” Chris shouted, asking what all the commotion and laughing was from as he stood behind the table with his hands fiddling with the bottom of his tank top.

“Woah! I could hear that. Good thing my song was changing, damn.” Nick shook his head and moved the whisk away from the bowl.

“We’re going to start now, okay!?” Nick shouted as the music started playing again. “Sheesh, finally.” Chris raised his hands in exasperation and started reaching for the bowl and eggs.

Nick went in to go for a high five with Matt after he moved the whisk. “Matt, you can see that I'm going for a high five, no?” Nick smacked his lips together wiggling his hand that’s currently in the air while Matt just stares at it.

All while you’re listening to Low, so while you sing, “Them baggy sweatpants and the reebok with the straps. She turned around and gave that big booty a slap.”

You slap Nick's booty that was to your right. “She hit the floor. Next thing you know, shawty got low, low-” You start squatting and slapping his ass repetitively.

“AAH, Y/n stop that, what the fuck are you doing, girl?” Nick turned around smacking your hands away quickly, like lightning, giving you a death glare.

You nervously smiled in response, getting up and walking behind Chris, using him as a barrier. Nick points suspiciously at you and gets back to helping Chris get the oil.

After repeating ‘Yas queen’ every time Chris poured the oil professionally in the measuring cup, Chris chuckled into laughter every time, Chris dumped the oil into the bowl. Now onto the next step, the eggs, the difficult job.

“The eggs next!!” You yelled into Chris’ ear as you repelled out from behind Matt with strong retribution. While you help Chris put the eggs into the cup, he keeps flailing his arms.

“I only call you when it’s half-past fiv-OW BITCH!” You sing as you sidestep to try and get away from him, you get smacked right in the boob.

You start hitting him back and he smacks you back, so you guys are just standing there having a girl slapping fight.

“What the fuck is happening oh my gosh. STOP, You fucking minions!” Nick got in the middle of it, spacing his hands towards each of your chests trying to stop both of your hands. Chris turned around to the table in front of him again muttering about how it was all your fault and that you started it.

As Chris finished getting all the eggs in the bowl along with the oil and powder, Matt put all the egg shells into the measuring cup, going to throw it in the garbage. Nick saying something stupid of course and dancing around in his way equaling to Matt jiggling the cup up and the shells aimed at Nick’s chest, making him scream in disgust.

“Are you fucking kidding me, your disgusting!” Nick picks a shell off the floor and throws it back at Matt. Matt’s response to that is to run after Nick, resulting in a chase around the table.

While Matt is chasing around Nick, Chris is lost as fuck at what he’s hearing and you’re just singing and putting all your emotions in the song. “Just gonna stand there and watch me burn?! Well, that’s alright because I like the way it hurts.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Chris is just so confused standing next to the fridge rearranging his blindfold.

Nick walks past ready to stop the chase and Matt throwing more egg shells at him. “Matt fucking chased me and now i’m covered in fucking baby chicken.” The aggravation in Nick’s voice has Chris as he asks “What?” in surprise.

Chris pushes the nearest person to his right, that being Nick and he stumbles over into your stature behind him just a singin’ away, leading to you falling for real and getting up quickly singing the Trolls song.

“If you knock, knock me over. I will get back up again, oh.”

Nick shouting sorry at you as you walk away to clean up the thrown egg shells everywhere while Matt tends to helping Chris get the water from inside the fridge. Nick comes over to them watching carefully how much water is being poured in the measuring cup.

You come back from the trash can to Nick yelling at Chris to hold the cup straight. “Hold it flat. Flat!. FLAT!” Nick’s face is practically in the cup as he looks at the numbers written on it.

Matt helps move the bowl under where Chris’ hand was with the cup. “Pour it, baby girl!” Trying to be quiet with your words, you felt Matt's slaps as Nick was singing Melanie Martinez again by the sink.

“M’kay.” After he poured the water in, you saw him patting his hands around for the whisk. You thought of a brilliant idea to play a trick on him and the best view for the fans to see.

You reach for the whisk that's near the camera on the table and put it where if you had one your dick would be.You grabbed his hand and brought it to the utensil so it looks like he’s touching your dick.

While Chris was mixing the batter with Matt helping occasionally, Nick decided to have a dance break. You saw it from the corner of your eye and wanted to join him.

Next thing you know you were shaking it real bad while “Country girl” was playing in your headphones. As your dance break was coming to an end as the other two boys finished mixing, the song came to your favorite part, the chorus.

“Country girl, shake it for me, girl, shake it for me, girl, shake it for me.” You sang the part while shaking your ass. “Get it queen, slay!!” Nick shouted even if you couldn’t hear, hyping you up by flinging his finger around in the air towards you.

As Chris just finished mixing he got the batter all over his hands. “Nick, I need a towel please.” he reached his hands out to feel for the other man and in the process came in contact with nicks shirt, so he just wiped his hands off with that.

Nick screamed and swiped at his brother's hands away. “Get away! What the fuck, Chris?!” He holds his hands out in front of him in a way to protect himself from the ugly monster hands.

“Like he’s coming at me with gross hands. Like get a towel or something.” Nick then realizes what he said and slaps his hand on his mouth in shock, cackling at himself.

“Oh my God, am I stupid. I’ll get you a towel buddy don’t worry.” He patted Chris’ head as said man replies with mumbles.

He went around the two boys and you who were just standing, leaning against the stove singing along to a random song. Nick comes back to Chris with a napkin in hand, still giggling and smiling as Chris just grins at his idiotic brother.

As soon as Chris wipes his hands off Nick goes back to practically yelling the Melenie lyrics flowing through his headphones. “Not it off, fucker!” Chris yells at him. And of course Nick can’t hear so Matt smacked Nick a couple times, Chris doing the same, reaching for him around in his little bubble.

“Like a priest behind the-” Nick runs around to the opposite end of the table, Chris chasing after, being careful of falling.

While the two boys are running in circles, you move beside Matt as one of your favorite songs is playing through your ears. Causing you to grab onto Matt’s shoulders, shaking them back and forth as you put your face right up to his, your nose almost touching his cheek as his head faced the rascals.

“But I ain’t promiscuous and if you were suspicious, all that shit is fictitious, I blow kisses. Muahh!” Then you kiss Matt’s cheek while Matt side eyes you and the camera the whole time, him used to your random shenanigans.

Next would be to pour the batter in the pans and cook the cupcakes finally. You go through their cabinets real fast finding the pam spray for the cupcakes to not stick to the pan.

“Got the pam, my kings. Time for a lubing experience!” You held up the pam to the ceiling, shaking it around for the boys to see, except Chris of course. You came over beside Chris, turning him to face the camera and table while still holding the bottle, Chris fiddling with his hands.

“I’m gonna guide your hands, baby girl. You’re going to spray the pam on the pan, okay?!” You slightly yell in Chris’ ear as for him to hear you properly.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise and laughed quietly, jerking his head back a bit to escape your sudden ambush. You glance at Matt for permission to start, he scratches his forehead in response, sighing quietly into his bandana.

You smile brightly with all your teeth as you take Chris’ hands and shove the spray bottle in them, making sure to face the nozzle to the pans. Matt walks over to take one of the muffin pans in his hands to hold out for Chris to spray them with your help.

You feel a bump to your back and your hips hit the table making you yelp, turning around to scold Nick who was laughing while saying sorry over and over while waving his hands around repeatedly.

“When should I spray, Matt-I mean Y/n, fuck.” You rolled your eyes paying attention to the other boys.

“Spray now, pretty boy.” You finally got your voice to a nice volume, Matt raised a brow at the name as Chris pressed down on the nozzle

“Oh! My God-” You yelped again, this time from the shooting pam getting all over the table and on Matt's hand holding the pan. After Matt moved around the pan for the butter to get into every hole the best he could with you helping the blind man move his hands around, he motioned for you to grab the pan on your side.

“Stop real quick! Oh my goshyyy.” You drag out your words as you move to grab the muffin pan and shove it in the air in front of the nozzle at a decent space away.

“Alright spray away.” Just as he pressed the sprayer down the butter came in contact with your hand holding the pan, you just stared with a blank face making the :[ lips in disappointment. “You got your jizz on me, fucking whore. What the fuck.” You shot a stare at Matt as you moved Chris’ hand to the empty spots in the pan, you watched Matt wipe his hands on Nick’s back as he danced past him in his own world.

You moved your eyes and paid more attention to Chris again as you saw there was enough on the pan. “Stop! No more, man.” You sat the pan on the table moving them directly in Chris’ sight-if he didn’t have the blindfold on.

You watch Chris try his best(fail) to put the bottle correctly on the table upright, all it ended up doing was falling and rolling to the very end of the table near the camera.

“You’re doing great, Chris. “ You sigh, holding out your buttered hand in front of you, freezing in place not knowing where to go as Nick was dancing right behind you and Chris and Matt were to the left of you.

“You don’t sound very proud though, Y/n.” Chris chuckled, setting both his hands on the table leaning up against it waiting for directions. You hummed, hearing him as the song was changing at that time. Don’t worry, baby, you really did great for a blind guy. “ You pat his head with your non buttered hand as you came to the conclusion, very fast, to turn around and wipe your hands on Nick also, resulting in him seeing this time what was on your hands and screaming dramatically like always.

“AHH, what the fuck, you bitch! You got some kind of fucking cum all over your fingers! Get away from me, oh my God!!” Nick retreated backwards with a traumatized look on his face shoving your hands away from his shirt.

“Boys call you sexy and you don’t care what they say…hehe” you sing softly and giggle menacingly, wiggling your brows in faux suggestion. Nick screwed his lips up and backed away towards the other side of Chris where Matt looked with wide eyes between you two.

You face the camera giving a show(dance) as you put your right hand on your chest “When I grow up-”, then point to the ceiling while your other hand rests on your hip. “-I wanna be famous. I wanna be a star. I wanna be in movies.” You bring both hands under your chin with your palms facing up while you bob your head back and forth.

“When I grow up-” You once again put your right hand on your chest then point to the ceiling while your other rests on your hip. “-I wanna see the world. Drive nice cars. I wanna have groupies.” This time you bring your hands to your mouth and blow kisses left and right while bobbing your head.

After your stunning performance, you join Chris’ right side again while Matt is holding Nick back while he rants about where the trays are. You went ahead to help Chris get the batter in the trays. You put your hands on top of his as you start to pour the batter with him into the first pan.

“Oh, when you walk by every night, talking sweet and looking fine.“ You start singing ‘Fantasy’ while you guide him for the batter into the correct holes as he sings with you a little bit.

“I get kinda hectic inside. Mm, baby I’m so into you. Darling, if you only knewww.” Chris joins in with a fond smile on his lips as you guide the bowl up to stop the flow of the batter and move to hold the second pan underneath the bowl, letting Chris resume pouring the thick liquid.

“YAS, YAS QUEEN.” Nick hypes you up while you hold the tray up and help get batter in the muffin holes. Matt, to the left of Chris once more, helps with the silicone spatula, moving the batter stuck to the sides to the direction the bottom of the bowl is faced.

After Matt practically cleaned the bowl with the scraper tool, you set the pan beside the first one on the table and took the bowl from Chris to put in the sink as Nick told him to take off his blindfold finally.

You turned around from putting water in the bowl to the top and saw the three boys without their bandanas or headphones on and pouted walking over while taking your headphones off.

“You bitch! You didn't tell me we’re done, you fucking loser ass whore.” You slapped Nick on the shoulder closest to you and Nick’s pained yell cut off right as the screen cut to when the cupcakes were done.

Chris comes towards the stove with the camera right as Nick turns around. “Oh my God, I thought you were gonna attack me.” Nick gasps, eyes wide, holding his chest with one hand while the other holds an oven mitt from when he just took the pans from inside it. Matt was to the left of Nick as were you to Matt, Chris behind the camera obviously.

“You whore, you almost gave Nick a heart attack. “ You move to slap Chris playfully, but he moves backwards in time already anticipating your move. You gasp dramatically in offense bringing both hands tight to your chest in faux anguish.

“Don’t mind him Y/n, he’s just being a booty licker.” Nick pats your shoulder as Matt and Chris go into shock, their mouths agape in revelation to what Nick had said.

“Anyway! Back to the cupcakes.” You redirect their attention to the pans with tiny yellow cakes in them by presenting your hand towards the oven top where they lay.

“Like th-the c-cupcake itself looks very warm and fluffy..” Chris points the camera up close to the cupcakes, already letting go of the forgotten words said previously. “Like the c-c-c-cupcake itself.” Matt taunts, mocking Chris.

“Shut the fuck up.” Chris giggles. Nick suddenly gasps and holds up a fully burnt piece of batter with his tooth pick, showing it to the three of you and the camera. “I will actually venmo you a hundred dollars if you eat this.”

“For real, bitch? You're not kidding?” You ask shockingly. ”A hundred twenty dollars to eat this.”He says looking you straight in the eyes.

“I’d need cash, five hundred.” Chris chimes in from behind the camera.

“Hey man, free money.” You shrug your shoulders, pushing Chris out your way to the stove top, grabbing Nick’s wrist and making him put the black, burnt piece of practically char into your mouth.

“Jesus, lady. A little too sexy for me.” Nick speaks as Matt and Chris look horrified as they watch you eat it with a soured face while shaking your head back and forth like a wiggle worm. All three of them start laughing loud as you shoving them away and quickly speed walk to the fridge where there was your body armor you brought over.

You chug down most of the drink, all while Chris films up close to your face. You slam the bottle on the table breathing heavily from not taking a breath drinking. “So how was it Y/n? Was it the yummiest thing you ever ate?” Matt laughs smugly, rubbing your back with one hand.

“Send it, Nick.” You sigh, shaking your hands ferociously with the shiver that went down your spine. “Alright, we’ll be back for the frosting of the cupcakes.” Matt pushed the camera away.

“For the CUPCAKES, YAY!” Nick squeaks out as he does jazz hands above your head from behind you. “YAAHOO” You squeal back in a yoshi voice, back to your old self in a matter of moments, shoving your forehead to the camera lens.

“Nah, no transitions babe-” Just then the camera cuts off Chris’ voice to you and the boys standing behind the table, each with a cupcake plated in front of you.

“We’re all gonna decorate one cupcake fully blindfolded. Lemme get all the supplies.” Nick says, walking around you to grab the sprinkles and icings by the sink counter.

Soon enough everyone had a blindfold on, Chris having to help you to not get your hair caught in it. First thing you roamed your hands around for was the small tub of white icing.

Thankfully finding and using it before anyone else got to it. You took the butter knife from the table, scooping what you thought was only a little, but ended up being a whole lot of icing on your cupcake where you made sure it was right under it.

After practically using the whole tub, you reached for some sprinkles, lifting a hand to peak out your blindfold for the pink one and seeing all the icing on your cake.

You suck your lips in and widen your eyes, pulling the bandana back over your eyes, continuing to open the sprinkle top. You proceeded to just twist the whole top off, pouring most of them in once again.

“Where the fuck is the fucking icing?! I’ve been searching for hours!” You hear Chris from your left groan in despair. You giggle quietly, hearing him slap his hands against the table fumbling around to find the icing. “Hey! Mister, that's mine.” You call out as Chris hits against your plate, making a scratching sound from all your sprinkles.

“Womp womp.” He mocks at you as he accidentally touches the very bottom of your stomach while reaching around.

"Chris stop! You’re literally touching my puss, you fucking dumbass!” You screech out, moving backward, flailing your hands out to push him away from him barely touching your pubic bone.

“WOOAAH, WOAHH!!” Nick shouts in horror and shock with his mouth agape.

“Not in the kitchen, guys.” You can practically see Matt’s smirk from your far left in front of you.

“Well I COULDN’T FUCKING FInd it!” Chris yells, flapping his hands against his thighs in aggression, his voice lowering in pitch due to your laugh shushing. “I had it alright damn. Chill out pretty boy.” You move up to the table again, finding the icing more by Nick than you, but who cares and handing it to the pouting man.

After the explosion everything went pretty fast as you four quit talking, focusing on making your cupcakes beautiful. “Dude I got frosting on my face, ugh.” Chris groaned, taking off his blindfold.

“That’s fine baby, I’ll lick it off ya.” You smirked, already having your blindfold off. “WOAH, AGAIN?!” Nick shouts, taking his off also, seeing Matt with his off too.

“Aww, I wanted blue. Oh! It matches my shirt!” He wiggles. “Wait! I thought I used this? Ohh I forgot to cut the tip off” Nick groans while Chris sucks the icing off his hands and Matt picks at his, wiping it on his pants.

“Oh my God, I tried to use that to make a smiley face. WAAH” You fake cry, heading to the sink to wash your hands and drag Chris along too. In the background of the video, fans could see you and Chris whispering while washing hands behind where Matt and Nick were inspecting their(and yours) cupcake designs. In the corner Chris speaks quietly to you.

“So, you really wanna lick it off?” With raised brows he whispers. You decide not to answer with words, but in action.

You took the non wet hand of his and made sure Chris’ back was hiding it from the camera, taking his pinky that was covered in white frosting slowly into your mouth. The whole time your eyes were locked on his own.

You sucked hard, rubbing the finger with your tongue, trying to get all the icing off in one go. You slowly removed the pinky, so as to not make too much noise.

Once it was fully out, you saw a little white still on the left side and moved your tongue out to lick at it. When finished, you pull his hand under the running water faucet, squirting soap on him as you hear him let out a deep breath.

In the end yours kinda looked like Chris’, all pink sprinkles and so so so much icing. You take a bite of yours and some crumbs get on your shirt.

“Um, you got a lil' somethin' somethin' on your tittie, Y/n” Nick pointed out to you and everyone there. “I know, I was saving it for later, you whore.” You bit back at him and he held his hands up in surrender with wide eyes. Matt walked up to the camera showing his cupcake upclose.

“Mine. The blue cyclone.” He showed his cupcake covered in blue sprinkles and you joined in front of the camera with yours too, shoving it up closer than Matt's.

“Yas bitch! And my pink pussaayy.” The cupcake covered in pink sprinkles is shown with a bite taken out and a made line, from you obviously, in the middle which looked like it was lips.

“Don’t sa-”

And the video ends there.

________

-COMMENTS-

@ chris and y/n in the back omg so cute

@ y/n has THE literal epitome of a shuffled playlist it’s fr wild

@ y/n and matts moment!!!!

@ the old songs….I LUV

@ rockin the sexc songs girl fsfs

@ jealous of y/nnnn ;(

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

@ y/n is too wild fr

TAGLIST: @riowritesitall @conspiracy-ash @miyasturniolo

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jaemmphilia · 1 year

Text

★ 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦: 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘴*𝘹

★ kinktober 2023 - masterlist ★ includes: seungmin ★ warnings: explicit content, seungmin and reader hate each others guts and decide to get it out by fucking © triplejracha, 2023. please do not copy to any other platform.

Seungmin angrily bites at your throat, not caring about the semi-pained whines coming from you. Your hands are tugging at the short hairs at the back of his neck, your legs wrapping around his middle. Seungmin squeezes your thighs as he growls into your neck.

Neither of you know how you ended up like this, what started out as a heated argument quickly turned into lips locked together and teeth biting skin.

Seungmin admires the bruises forming on your skin as he kneads your plush thighs in his hands.

"You planned this. You just wanted to get me in bed so you could have me all to yourself." Seungmin teases, dropping you onto the bed. Your body bounces and you glare at him.

"Oh fuck off, Kim. I had no part of this!" You snap back, taking off your shirt as you tug Seungmin down to your level to press a kiss to his lips. "How was I supposed to know there was only one bed?"

Seungmin hovers over you as he takes in your bare upper body. He resumes his attack on your neck as he ignores you. You writhe under him, a whine slipping past your lips.

Seungmin laughs at you and you know he's about to tease you.

"Oh? You're a whiny type? I never would have guessed that." He snickers into your neck.

Seungmin rids himself of his clothes and he doesn't give you much time to comment on his body before he's tugging your sweatpants and underwear off of you.

You try to protest, your mouth opening to yell at him but he just shoves two fingers into your mouth.

He looks down at you with a cocky look on his face that makes you want to punch him right in his perfect nose. "Suck on them like the good little bitch you are."

You narrow your eyes at him as you bite down on his digits. He lets out a noise of pain, making you smirk. You refuse to give yourself to him so easily.

Seungmin grabs you by the jaw roughly and tuts at you. "Just for that, I'm going to rip you in half." He threatens, making you roll your eyes again.

Seungmin hardly preps you, just going right for it. When he slides inside you, the burn feels good and it makes you cry out under him. Your cock leaks precum onto your abdomen, your face twisted up in pleasure. Seungmin sets a brutal pace, his hands holding onto your thighs as your calves sit on his shoulders. His hips snap into the back of your upper thighs as the room begins to get humid with arousal.

As much as you hate Seungmin and his smart ass mouth, you have to admit that he is good at fucking. He's pounding into you at a harsh pace, your skin turning red from how rough he is.

The fact that the pace is so rough causes the two of you to finish rather quickly. It creeps up on you both, neither of you having time to try and hold back. Once you calm down from your high, you glare at Seungmin.

"Way to go, asshole! You finished early, which isn't surprising in the slightest!" You point a finger at him as he pulls out of you.

Seungmin sputters, his eyes widening at your insane accusation. "Me!? What about you? You finished before me!"

"I did not! You came inside me and then I came!"

"That is not what happend and you know it!"

"Oh, shut the hell up, you one-pump chump!"

"Excuse me?!"

No one in the hotel got any sleep that night.

#💘 - written by tjr #👻 - kinktober 2023 #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader #male reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids smut #seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x male reader #this was ass im so sorry

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littlexdeaths · 5 months

Text

bye bye bye - e.m.

y2k eddie munson x girly reader

opposites attract masterlist

warnings: gareth is a dickhead, hope y’all like some cheesy fluff, eddie is a complete dork but we love him for it.

a/n: this is a repost of my first y2k eddie fic, with some much needed edits and additions. i will be working on editing and posting the rest of this series soon. i hope you enjoy 💕

word count: 1.5k

Today really hadn’t gone how you’d planned.

You had been hanging out with Eddie and his band mates, something you’d done quite often. Only this time you made the mistake of wearing your *NSYNC tour shirt.

It wasn’t a secret that you and Eddie had polar opposite tastes, it was apparent by just looking at you. You were all pink, bubblegum and boy bands. And your boyfriend was a leather clad, heavy metal enthusiast.

Despite these differences, you fit so well together.

And as they say— opposites attract.

But one of his friends was always more standoffish towards you because of it. While you were always nice to Gareth, he seemed annoyed anytime Eddie brought you around. But today that annoyance had seemingly reached its peak.

And all over a stupid t-shirt.

Eddie had gone to get you both a drink, leaving you in the living room with the three other males. They were discussing the newest Linkin Park album. Which oddly enough, was a band you actually enjoyed outside your normal realm of music.

You perked up at the mention of the album, as it had been the only thing Eddie had been playing since it was released. Feeling eager to see what they also thought of it.

“Oh come on man, you can't say Meteora is better than Hybrid Theory,” Jeff scoffs, shaking his head in response to Gareth’s admission as Eddie leaves the room.

The male rolls his eyes before tossing a piece of popcorn at Jeff’s head, “See that’s where you’re wrong dude, have you tried listening to the albums back to back?”

You take this as an opportunity to add in your two cents, trying to include yourself in the conversation despite your nerves.

“Well, personally I think both albums are great in their own—”

You are interrupted with a loud snort as Gareth rudely cuts you off, glancing down at your shirt before meeting your eyes.

“Why would we care about your opinion of it? All you listen to is boy band trash pop,” he sneers, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his friends.

It felt like someone had punched you in the gut, any other words became lodged in your throat. Jeff and Grant throw apologetic glances your way, but continue on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Eddie returns shortly after, completely oblivious to what had just transpired. He plops down next to you on the sofa and passes you a can of coke. Due to your solemn appearance, he knew something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.

A frown tugs at the corner of his mouth as he wraps an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks softly, replying with a shrug of your shoulders.

You let your eyes fall to the open can of soda clutched in your fist. You didn’t want to talk about it, especially not in front of them. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, or to give Gareth the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

So you sat quietly through the next half hour, letting Eddie enjoy the time with his friends.

But he couldn’t seem to let it go, far too focused on what had caused this sudden shift in your mood. So he ended the hangout early, claiming to be too tired from work. But all of you knew the real reason, guilt filled your chest as he walked you out to his van.

They must think you’re a buzzkill too.

The questions started the moment the door shut behind him, badgering you the entire way back to your house. You easily dodged his line of questioning, claiming to be tired. But Eddie wasn’t having any of that, he could see right through you. He always could.

“Baby, come on. Talk to me please,” he pleaded as he followed you up the stairs to your bedroom.

You continued to ignore him as you sat on the bed with a sigh. You felt embarrassed, knowing such a silly comment shouldn’t bother you as much as it did. All you wanted was for his friends to like you, but it was made abundantly clear that they didn’t.

All because you favored pop music? It all felt so trivial, like they weren’t even willing to give you a real chance. It hurt your feelings more than you cared to admit.

But Eddie being the sweet, doting boyfriend that he was— wasn’t giving up that easily.

“Just tell me what happened, sweetheart.” He says, kneeling in front of you, palms resting on either side of your thighs.

“It’s stupid,” you mutter, avoiding his curious gaze.

“Nothing that upset you this much is stupid,” he counters as you let out a groan, dramatically falling back onto the mattress and covering your face.

You hear his exasperated sigh, feeling the weight of his chest against yours as he leans over you. Eddie carefully removes your hands from your face, looking down at you expectantly.

“Your friends don’t like me,” you utter softly.

He frowns, confusion settling on his features.

“Why do you say that?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes which causes his frown to deepen.

“Well, just look at me…” you trail off, gesturing to yourself. “And look at you.”

It’s his turn to sigh now, taking your hands as he guides you back into a sitting position. Eddie cups your cheeks in between his palms, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I know what you’re insinuating, but I promise that’s the furthest thing from the truth.” He reassures you, his dark eyes utterly sincere.

And as much as you want to believe him, there’s still a small part of you that wonders if maybe they are right. Maybe you’re too different. He must be able to read the apprehension lingering on your features, as one of determination crosses over his.

“I don’t know what they said to make you think that,” he pauses to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “But I won’t hesitate to kick some ass, sweetheart.”

Despite the teasing lithe in his voice you know he’s serious, quickly shaking your head. The last thing you’d want is to cause more beef with his friends.

“It’s fine, Eds, I’m just too sensitive.” You give him a quick peck on the lips, “Let’s just drop it, yeah?”

You pull away to scoot further up the mattress, patting the spot beside you. But he shakes his head, remaining on the floor for a moment. His eyes dart contemplatively around the room, stopping on the shelf that held your extension CD collection.

A Cheshire-like grin tugs at his lips as he moves towards it, balancing on the balls of his feet. Your brows knit together in confusion as his ringed fingers graze over the plastic spines, stopping once he finds what he was looking for. Eddie pops the disc out of its case and into the clunky boombox before pressing play.

The beginning chords of Bye Bye Bye fill the once quiet space of your bedroom. Your boyfriend quickly jumps to his feet, spinning around to face you. He plants his feet on the carpet, head falling forward as his hands raise up in a marionette style.

Your eyes widen in realization as you crawl back towards the edge of your bed, suddenly intrigued. Eddie shoots a wink your way once he meets your gaze, beginning to sing along. His voice stood out amongst the others, the raspy quality brought a new edge to the track.

But he didn’t stop there.

You watched in amazement as he nailed all the choreography from the music video. You had no idea when he found the time to study all the moves. Between classes, work, hellfire and band practice he barely had time to think.

But knowing he took the time to do this, specifically for you— made your stomach flutter.

You can’t stop the smile from lighting up your features, giggling as your boyfriend continues to serenade you.

“I don’t want to be your fool, in this game for two…”

Eddie drops to his knees at your feet again, coaxing you onto the floor with him. He presses feather light kisses all over your face, the sensation causes you to giggle more. As hurt as you had been, the male always knew how to make you forget your problems.

At least for a little while.

“That’s my girl,” he mumbled, grinning down at you.

He’s a little out of breath from his impromptu dance routine, bangs lightly sticking to his forehead.

“You’re an absolute dork, Ed,” you giggle, ruffling his curls in a playful manner.

But the way he’s looking at you has your heart racing. His head dips, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss as the song comes to an end.

“Now, admit it,” he chuckles against your mouth, nudging his nose with yours. “I’m a much better dancer than that Dustin Timberlake.”

You laugh loudly, fondly shaking your head at him.

“It’s Justin, baby…”

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #y2k!eddie munson #y2k!eddie munson x girly reader #eddie munson x girly reader #my series: opposites attract 🫧#early 2000s!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you

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in1-nutshell · 7 months

Note

One more before I forget... a delinquent senior in high school Buddy who secretly has a heart of gold, who would defend the kids. They have the mentality of 'You mess with them, you mess with me.' However, it's mostly Jack's and maybe Raf's(?) bullies. And would go against Megatron with only a spiked bat for the kids and for team Prime too. For this scenario, I'd imagine while defending one of the kids against their bullies. They get into a really serious fight with them and practically send the bully to the hospital. So how would the tfp team Prime react to learning this on the drive from school to the base?

Buddy is ready to attack anything that looks at the kids the wrong way.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy protecting the Kids from bullies with Bulkhead, Ultra Magnus, and Bumblebee

SFW, Platonic, Mentions of injury and fights (nothing detailed), Human reader

TFP

Buddy looked like a heartless person.

They had a resting scowl on their face.

But they were one of the sweetest people the kids and Bots knew.

When Buddy found out that the kids went to the same school, Buddy made sure to look out for them.

They insisted on walking each one of them to class.

Jack coming out of class looking both ways in the hallway.

“Hmm—”--Jack

Buddy tapping his shoulder.

“Ready?”--Buddy

“Ack!”--Jack

Miko coming out of her class, sticking close to the wall.

No Buddy in sight.

Buddy looking over her shoulder.

“Who you looking for?”--Buddy

“AHH! How are you so quiet? And how did you even get here so fast? Isn’t your class on the other side of the school?”--Miko

“I have long legs.”--Buddy

Raf coming out of his class.

Buddy waiting for him by the wall.

“You ready for that test?”--Buddy

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”--Raf

Buddy just wanted to look after their friends, especially since they knew there were some awful people in the school.

The day of the incident was one to remember.

Vince had come up with the dumbest stunt yet.

After school Vince and some of his goons had managed to corner Jack.

“Hey Darby.”--Vince

“Vince? What—what are you doing with your… friends?”--Jack

The group slowly formed a semi-circle around Jack and Vince.

“What happened at lunch? You trying to start something? Huh, Dirt bag?”--Vince

“No—I mean—why would I? You tripped over your own foot—”--Jack

Vince punches Jack in the stomach causing him to fall on his knees wheezing.

“Don’t lie to me Darby! You stuck out your foot and made me trip!”--Vince

“I –wheeze—didn’t—”--Jack

Vince kicked him in the gut again.

“HEY!”--Buddy

The group looking at Buddy, Miko, and Raf behind them.

Buddy walking forward with Miko and Raf trailing behind them.

Buddy is standing between Jack and Vince, while Raf is helping Jack up and Miko is eyeing everyone around them.

“I’m only going to tell you this one-time Vince. Back. Off. Don’t come near my friends or me ever. Got that?”--Buddy

“Please. You think that this is going to work? Just come here and talk. I think its time to finally teach these losers a lesson, right fellas?”--Vince

One of the boy’s grabs Raf by the back of the shirt while another two grab Miko.

The ones who grabbed Miko threw her to the ground and started a few kicks to her sides.

Raf has just held tightly by his wrist trying to surpass the little cries from the pain.

Jack tries to help but gets slugged across the face.

“Guys! Vince, let them--”--Buddy

Vince spits in Buddy’s face as one of his goon’s slams Buddy in the back with a baseball bat, making them fall to the floor.

“Buddy!”—Jack, Miko, and Raf

Buddy shakingly got up with a large cut on their forehead and looked at the offender dead in the eyes with their split knuckles.

The goon tried to hit them again, but this time Buddy managed to grab the bat, twisted it from his hold making him let go.

Now Buddy had the bat and they saw red.

Maybe it was because of the blood slowly dribbling down or it was the pure anger they felt.

Buddy was delivering blows to all of them like they were candy on Halloween.

Did they see a tooth fly?

Yes.

Did they care?

No.

The group eventually had enough and ran away.

Buddy was mostly dizzy from the punches and kicks.

Jack, with his slightly bruised face, helped Buddy sit down.

Miko with a busted lip and split knuckles sat down next to Buddy making sure they didn’t close their eyes.

Raf, with some bruising around his wrists, managed to produce some tissues for them.

Buddy with a smile on their beaten face.

One hand still gripping the bat.

“That… that was something.”--Buddy

“We should call the hos—”--Jack

“No hospital.”--Buddy

“What?”--Jack

“Are you insane?! You look like you got beaten up by a monster truck! You need help! We all need some help!”—Miko

“Miko, we can get in trouble with the cops, which leads to them snooping around which can be bad for the bot’s cover. We can’t go.”--Buddy

“As much as I hate it, Buddy’s got a point. None of us need cops on us. How else are our guardians going to get us? We can’t keep asking Fowler for favors like this.”—Jack

“Finally, someone is making…”—Buddy

Buddy shaking their head a bit, blinking hard.

“Buddy?”--Raf

“Head hurts a lot… Maybe having your Mom look at this thick skull isn’t a bad idea…”--Buddy

“You look really bad.”--Raf

“It looks worse than what it is—hold up—okay we’re good.”--Buddy

“What was that?”--Miko

“The world was spinning for a second, but we’re good now.”—Buddy

“Felt that. Literally.”--Miko

“…”—Jack and Raf

“Now to the million dollar question.”--Buddy

“What is that?”--Jack

“How are we going to explain this to the bots?”--Buddy

“…”--Everyone

“Welp… I guess house arrest it is. Good thing I have some Uno cards with me.”--Buddy

Bulkhead

Bulkhead was sent to go get the kids after a rather late mission.

Since he had the most space to have all the kids ride comfortably, he went ahead.

He knew that it was late, so he went slightly above the speed limit.

The first thing he saw was the kids sitting and huddling close together.

This sent warning flags to his mind.

The kids didn’t huddle this close to each other unless something happened, or it was cold, and it wasn’t cold.

He nearly blows his cover when he sees the bruises and blood.

“Miko?! Buddy?! Jack?! Raf?! What in the name of—”Bulkhead

“Shh! Bulkhead someone might hear you!”--Miko

“But what happened?!”--Bulkhead

Jack and Raf helped Buddy into the back seat.

“Shouldn’t you guys go to a hospital?”--Bulkhead

“And…And risk your cover being blown? I don’t… don’t think so big guy.”--Buddy

“But—”--Bulkhead

“Everything we need is at the base in the med kits.”--Buddy

“And my Mom should be at the base by now.”--Jack

“How do you know this?”--Bulkhead

“…She left with Fowler…”--Jack

“If my chest wasn’t hurting too much, I would be laughing so hard right now…”--Buddy

Concerning car noises intensifies by a tenfold.

“Bulk, you okay—Woah!”--Miko

Bulkhead starts speeding to the base well above the speed limit because screw the law the kids are hurt bad.

Bulkhead comms in the base to get the med bay and the human med kits ready. When he is asked further, he just tells them that everyone isn’t looking too good right now.

Was his message cryptic and most likely sent panic to everyone listening?

Yes.

Did he care at the moment?

Not entirely, especially as he is splitting his attention between the injured kids and the road ahead of them.

When Bulkhead gets to the base, he is almost yelling for someone, anyone to help the kids out of the car.

Blame the yelling on the panic, Buddy and Miko looked like they were going to fall asleep.

There is a lot of audial gasps when the kids are taken out of him.

So far none of the kids have said anything. The beatings and adrenaline were wearing off and no one had the energy right now to recall all the events.

Buddy still hasn’t let go of the bat.

Since Raf and Jack were the two that were the least injured they had the task of telling them what happened.

Bulkhead had never had the sudden urge to squash a human than in that moment.

A little while later…

Jack, Miko and Raf are sleeping in their respective med slabs.

Buddy is awake shuffling some Uno cards the best they can with their bandaged hands.

Bulkhead comes into the med bay as quietly as he can.

“Buddy?”--Bulkhead

“Hmm? Oh Bulkhead.”--Buddy

Bulkhead walking a little bit closer to the group.

“How you holding up?”--Bulkhead

“Eh… Got a big pounding in my head and some bandages, but other wise good. You should have seen the other guys.”—Buddy

“Yeah… Raf said they ran away after you went ‘whack a mole’ on them.”--Bulkhead

“Ha! That’s one way to put it.”--Buddy

“Hehe… Thank you.”--Bulkhead

“Thank you?”--Buddy

“For protecting them.”--Bulkhead

“Bulkhead… they got hurt. I didn’t protect them…If I had tried—”--Buddy

“I’m going to stop you right there.”--Bulkhead

“Huh?”--Buddy

“From what Jack and Raf told us, you did everything possible to try and protect them. You went to fight for your friends. I could mistake you for potential Wrecker material.”--Bulkhead

“Ha… don’t let Ratchet hear you say that now.”--Buddy

“Yeah… but my point still stands. You’re a good kid Buddy and you protecting them just proves it even more.”--Bulkhead

Buddy trying to hold in some tears.

“Do you need Ratchet? Does something hurt?”--Bulkhead

“No—I mean I don’t feel good—but… just thanks… I needed to hear that.”--Buddy

Bulkhead gently stroking Buddy’s cheek from the tears.

“No problem, Buddy. Sleep, will ya? You’ll end up looking like those ‘raccoons’ if you don’t.”--Bulkhead

Buddy nods letting their eyes shut softly.

Ultra Magnus

Magnus is one of the bots helping get everyone out of Bulkhead.

He is the one who gets Buddy out.

In all his years holding injured soldiers, his servos shook more holding Buddy’s beaten body.

They were holding a bat in one of their hands.

“Bulkhead! What—”--Magnus

Buddy gently patted his digit.

“Hey Mags… how’s it going?”--Buddy

“Ratchet!”--Magnus

Buddy trying to soothe Magnus.

“It’s okay Mags… everything’s okay.”--Buddy

Concern truck noises intensifies.

Magnus quickly passed Buddy to Ratchet and June.

Jack and Raf retold the whole story.

Magnus was furious at the dirty fighting.

He goes off to the supplies closet to reorganize it, something to keep his mind off of the incident for a bit.

At least till he cools down.

Afterwards, Magnus is hypervigilant of the children after they are all patched up.

Magnus sits on a crate by Buddy’s side as they retell a bit of the story to him.

His servos clench hearing the boy who nearly decked them with a baseball bat.

“I don’t even know where that thing came from. It was like it came out of nowhere.”--Buddy

“Hmm…”--Magnus

Magnus is glaring with hatred at the bat.

Buddy takes notice and gently pats Magnus’s digit in reassurance.

Magnus and Buddy give each other a smile of understanding before Buddy tries to explain the game of Uno to him.

Bumblebee

Bumblebee feels the world stops the second Bulkhead is telling them to get the kids out.

He rushes over to get Raf out, gently cradling him in his servos.

“Beep bep bop?! (Raf what happened?!)--Bumblebee

Bumblebee gently turned Raf’s wrist to see more of the injury.

Immediately stops after hearing Raf take a sharp intake.

A quick little flashback to when Raf had gotten exposed to dark energon.

“Beep! Beep! Beep! (Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!)”--Bumblebee

“Its okay Bee, it just stings a bit.”--Raf

Bumblebee cradles him a bit closer.

Concern Beeping noises intensifies.

Bumblebee feels his spark drop seeing the rest come out of the car, especially Buddy holding on to a bat.

He is slightly hovering by the med bay with the other listening to the story.

He had the ‘pleasure’ of meeting the meathead once and that was enough for him.

He wants justice for the kids.

For Buddy.

He doesn’t leave the kids out of his sight for a while.

Ratchet walking into the med bay.

Bumblebee sitting on a corner of Buddy’s med slab, watching intensely at the human’s sleep.

Ratchet comes over gently placing a servo on his shoulder.

“They’re safe now Bumblebee.”--Ratchet

“Boop bop… bep beep boop bep bop? (I know… but it doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of optics watching them?).”--Bumblebee

“It doesn’t but you need to recharge.”--Ratchet

“Beep—(But--)”--Bumblebee

“They’ll still be here when you wake up. I will personally let you know when they wake up, as long as you go recharge.”--Ratchet

Bumblebee taking one last look at the kids, whispering a gentle ‘Thank you” towards Buddy, and leaves to recharge.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #tfp #tfp x reader #human buddy #tfp x platonic reader #tfp bulkhead x platonic reader #tfp bulkhead #tfp bumblebee x platonic reader #tfp bumblebee #tfp ultra magnus #tfp ultra magnus x platonic reader

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albertasunrise · 28 days

Text

Hope You Can Forgive Me - Hope Preview

Masterlist

Summary: After Joel loses his wife and your best friend during childbirth. You support him as he takes on parenthood on his own at 22. But when feelings start to develop, you battle with the guilt you feel for falling for your best friend’s husband.

Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+… this is to avoid spoilers! (So it’s been a while for this fic but this chapter is well underway. Thought I’d give y’all a sneaky peak of what's to come ♥️ Hoping to get this chapter up this weekend... I don't really have time to proofread beyond Grammerly so sorry for any mistakes 😬)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

"How's things been with you?" Tommy asked you as he turned to face you. It was something that you had always liked about Tommy. When he was talking to you he gave you his undivided attention and never butted in when you spoke. Something that your husband and his family had always done that had driven you to distraction… But never the Miller boys. They always listened to what you had to say.

"Yeah, they're good." You nodded as you replied and placed your bottle on the table "Starting to meld well with the nice team. Making some friends too which is nice."

"Any hot men in the office catch your eye?"

Tommy's question took you by surprise and you couldn't help but glance at Joel a moment before answered. He was looking at anything but you and Tommy as they awaited your answer and you felt a small pang of hope fill you. Why, you weren't sure.

"Not really looking for anything at the moment." You said, shrugging your shoulders "Been so focused on work and the kids the last few months that I haven't really thought about what comes next."

Your eyes drifted to Noah and Ali who were talking animatedly about, you assumed, something that had happened in the books they were holding. Both of them had ended up bookworms like their dad. Something you were glad of as they had grown up. Buying them books to distract them from the reality of how sick Alec had been.

"Plus Alec hasn't been gone long. Would be wrong for me to just move on."

"You're entitled to be happy." Tommy stated plainly as he gave you that signature Miller look "He would want you to live life to the fullest. Lord knows you've earned that."

"I guess." You shrugged.

Truth be told, since coming back into the Miller's lives your feelings for Joel had started to stir again. He had turned out to be an incredible father, not that you had doubted him for a second but he had been forced to take on parenthood completely on his own when you had left. Ali's parents had died a few years after the accident leaving Joel with just Tommy for family but he had been in the army. So he had to take it all on by himself and he had flourished. Sarah was a kind, polite and caring young girl and the spitting image of her mother. Something that had made you both happy and sad. Happy that she had turned out so beautiful, but sad because there wasn't a day that went by that you didn't miss Ali. So much so that you had named your own daughter after her.

"How about you brother?" Tommy asked, taking the attention off of you "How's things been with that chick you're dating?"

"We've been on like two dates Tommy." Joel sighed but his brother shrugged.

'Still dating her." He chuckled as he took a long pull of his drink "Given her the Miller magic yet?" Joel choked on his beer as the words settled between you and your stomach sank.

He was dating?

Of course, he was dating. He was an attractive young man, why wouldn't he? Yet this information felt like a punch to the gut. You knew you had no right to feel this way about Joel seeing someone yet it was a fight to keep the tears at bay. You would later realise as you analysed your feelings over a large glass of wine at home that a small part of you had always held onto the hope that one day, you and Joel may have had your chance. That after all these years, he would realise how you felt and would return those feelings. You would later realise that that was a fool's hope.

You had broken things beyond repair with Joel all those years ago.

There was no hope for the two of you now. There was no way he felt the same way about you.

If only you knew.

Chapter Here

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #last of us #the last of us #joel miller gif #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gif #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #last of us fanfiction

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unholyhelbig · 1 month

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Obsessed obsessed obsessed with Firecrest 🥺

Title: Firecrest (Part 2/???)

Read Part One

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Parental abandonment, horrible parenting, slight mentions of blood, reader has villain tendencies, and horrible grammar because I never proofread!

[A/n: I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I'm honestly really digging writing it. If this is something you guys would like me to keep going, I'll do my best. Just let me know!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

A sting worked its way through your knuckles before dissolving into a dull ache at your wrist. Sweat had started at your hairline and the small of your back before soaking through the wicked fabric of your tank-top. You could feel your shoulders cramping up. But, you’d stopped crying an hour ago. You feared that if you stopped assaulting the punching bag, then the tears would spill over again.

Lance had told you to take it easy. Your ribs had been bruised after the situation you’d left the benefit for. While you were grateful, said distraction packed a punch and you’d taken a swift kick to the gut and the side of a fire escape digging painfully into your side. It took everything in you not to throw the low-level criminal onto the pavement below.

Instead, you’d cuffed him and left him there until morning, or until law enforcement showed up. You were projecting, you were sure. But if your mother looked at you with pity one more time, you would have shoved him to his certain death.

You’d gotten out of the house and came to the boxing gym. The owner had given you your own key and it gave you enough privacy. If you had any tears left, you’d be able to shed them freely. You clenched your eyes shut and threw a solid round of punches, a scream of anguish ripping through your throat.

Two more hits and the bag became stagnant. Not the same, rocking defense that you’d been punching. You were used to the rhythmic sway and your eyes sprung open at the change in density. You’d ripped a bag before, sand spilling onto the floor.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shouted, taking a step back. Kate Bishop was on the other side of the bag, holding onto it with a concerned stare on her features. Her annoying perfect features, despite the late time of night. You panted. “Shit.”

“I called out, but you didn’t answer. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry.”

She released the bag and it swung back and fourth between you both. The chain that attached it to the ceiling squeaked in a rusted effort. Her stormy eyes flicked up nervously and then back to you. You knew that Kate used to come here with her father, her biological father, but you weren’t aware that she had the same key privileges as you.

You worked a hand through sweat-soaked hair and closed the distance to the side of the boxing ring. You used your teeth to pull open the plastic nib on your water bottle, soothed by the cool swallows. Kate watched you carefully. Her eyes roamed over your form, coated in sweat and toned from years of physical exertion.

You couldn’t stop your shoulders from trembling. Violent attempts from your body to assert it’s emotions. You could give in, and you could do so easily. But you would not. Not with Kate Bishop relinquishing her hold on the punching bag that you’d nearly turned to a pulp of sand and shredded upholstery. This wasn’t your dynamic. This wasn’t how things worked.

It was easy to take a lot of things that Kate was willing to give; a ride home from the gym, a doll that matched hers when the two of you were young, soft touches and harder thrusts. But one thing you refused to take was her pity. It leaked from her expression like a broken faucet and for some reason, that angered you.

“What are you doing here, Kate?”

“I came here to work off some extra energy. What are you doing here? I figured I wouldn’t see you for a few more months after you left the benefit early like that.”

“There was no reason for me to stick around.”

The answer fell from your lips in a deadened, emotionless tone. She clenched her jaw and then unclenched it, mulling her thoughts. There was an apprehension to her stance, even as she closed the distance between you both. She stopped just short of your fingers twitching to press against her hip, holding her in place. You lifted an unimpressed eyebrow.

Another swallow of now-warm water seemed to stop the uncertainty of your movements. You hoisted yourself onto the edge of the ring with a sigh, pressing your fingertips to your temples. Kate moved silently and leaned next to you. The quiet she offered was something you took, just like everything else.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Kate asked softly. You looked at her in confusion, lilting your head to the side. “You watched me fawn over Clint Barton for years. I had his posters in my room, and replica’s of his bows, and every news story ever written about him cut out and saved in a shoebox.”

“Because he’s important to you, Katie.”

“He’s your father.”

“He’s not.” You snapped. It was harsh. You forced yourself to relax, softening your voice. “He’s not. Lance is my father, and Clint Barton is far more important to you then he is to me.”

Kate swallowed thickly and hoisted herself up next to you. Her heat was overwhelming you with comfort. You didn’t have it in you to figure out what that meant, past your petty rivalry. She smelled of fresh detergent, of the winter air that clung to her so heavenly.

Her hand tentatively moved to your knee, and you didn’t stop her. You were still trembling and stilled at her closeness. “I’m not going to see him anymore.”

“Kate,” you chuckled sadly. “He’s your hero, and he trusts you enough to take over the Hawkeye name. You can’t throw that out because of his choices, and you certainly can’t throw that out because of me. We hate each other, remember?”

A look of sadness flickered momentarily against her features. The two of you had been in a constant head to head race to prove yourselves since you were young. Kate always came in first, and you had settled with second place; in school, in sports, in forced family outings. It used to end in toe to toe screaming matches.

But, the two of you were older now, and all that built up tension was easily released with stripped clothes and thrown around insults that did nothing but stir the excitement in your gut.

Being a hero was the only thing you were better at, than Katherine Elizabeth Bishop and you were sure that was about to change with Hawkeyes diligent teaching. Lance and Bobbi didn’t need the glory that came with being an Avenger- no, they kept the secret in the term secret agent.

“Right, of course.” She sounded out, nudged you with her shoulder. “But… you can still talk to me.”

You leveled her with an unimpressed stare. Despite her suave playboy attitude that infuriated you, Kate Bishop was not subtle when she wanted something. She chewed her bottom lip, both of her eyebrows raised in an adorable attempt to ease your nerves.

“Right, you’re right, sorry.” She moved to push herself off of the mat, but you wrapped your fingers around her wrist and gave it a tender squeeze. Kate froze in place before scooting back up, even closer this time. Her words reduced to a whisper, as if trying not to scare you off. “Okay.”

“Do you know what Terrigen crystals are?”

“We learned about them last semester, inhuman history. It’s a catalyst chemical that binds with red blood cells that are receptive to change.”

“Impressive.” You gave her a wolfish smile. “When I was growing up, my mom gave up her solo-agent status and conceded to joining a team, and one of their first missions together was to find, and retrieve these Terrigen crystals, the only ones in the entire world. They were meant to contain them, and nothing else, but things rarely go as planned.”

You were sure that Kate knew about the broken crystals that had leaked into the push and pull of the ocean. Fish naturally consumed the microscopic agent and soon, the Terrigen properties were distributed throughout the world commercially. Coulson had called it untamable. You remembered the fear in his eyes, and you had squirmed uncomfortably in the same Inhuman History class a year back.

“The day that things changed, my Aunt Daisy was in solitary confinement in the team’s underground bunker. My mom was busy running tests on her blood after she’d been exposed to the chemical agent. I knew how to stay out of the way, but happened to be in the lab with her when everything started to shake.”

“Shake?” Kate quirked a brow.

You nodded “The Terrigen crystal gave Daisy control of vibrational forces, but none of us knew that at the time. We just knew that something was wrong. The shaking startled everyone and my mom, she grabbed every Terrigen crystal but one.”

If not for Jemma, if not for her quick reflexes and wrapping her arms around Bobbi, sending them both from the lab before activating the safety seal, then neither of them would have made it. Indigo mist rushed from the shattered crystal and you remember the acrid floral taste that coated your lungs. It suffocated you.

“The last thing I remember about that day is my mother sobbing. She had both of her hands pressed against the glass surrounding the lab. She wailed like I wasn’t coming back, like she had failed me.”

Kate whimpered your name “Y/n,”

A tear drop hit the collar of your shirt and wicked nicely with the drying sweat. You used the base of hand to delicately wipe the rest away and came to the startling realization that Kate Bishop was one of the only people who had ever seen you cry.

“Everything went dark, then. I remember this hot, prickling feeling and it was hard to move. And then there was nothing. I know now that it was some… some type of cocoon of dirt and stone, but it crumbled away easily when the Terrigen had taken it’s effect.”

“That must have been scary.”

“Terrifying,” You let out a watery chuckle. “But in the end, I was in the best place possible for something like that to happen. I was surrounded by people who cared about me, who loved me, and who could teach me how to control the fire that’s always just below the surface.”

You pulled one knee to your chest and leaned your cheek against it, keeping a steady eye on Kate. She was already watching you. Fingers toying with the small brass zipper of her sweatshirt. She looked beautiful in the dimmed lights, and being this close, stopping to talk to her, had given you an even view of her freckles.

“Clint was on a mission in the Baltic Sea with Natasha, or at least, that’s how my mom tells it. Point is, he wasn’t there and even when he did return he took one look at me in solitary confinement and packed a duffel bag. There were arguments, I’m sure, but I wasn’t privy to them.”

The last time you had seen your biological father was when he knelt down at the sealed doors of the lab. His hand was massive compared to yours, it looked unnatural and alien when he pressed it against the glass. There was a finality in his stare. He’d called you Sparky, and you’d giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world.

You could see the turmoil in her stormy gaze. There was the sense of betrayal there, and the quiet contemplation of someone who had just found out the reality of their hero. Clint was her everything, her mentor, her teacher. He was the father figure she needed, and that was a clear line drawn in the sand.

Kate’s cold touch against your cheek, hot and tinted red from your earlier exertion, pulled you from your thoughts. Pity had replaced any semblance of anger she held onto. A whine moving involuntarily past your lips. You hadn’t realized how desperate you were for someone to touch you. For Kate to touch you.

Your relationship with the archer had never been any more than a succession of first and second place. A deadly dance that had culminated in open mouthed kisses and wandering fingers. This was one of the few times you’d had a serious conversation with her, a raw one that exposed wounds.

“I’ll do it,”

“Do what?”

You were hopelessly and pathetically lost. She smiled at that, an animalistic grin that often fell over her when she knew she was winning. You’d seen in countless times and couldn’t quite remember when it stopped annoying you and started turning you on.

“Pretend that we’re a couple,” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, dropping her hand and hopping off the edge of the ring. You missed her warmth, but it didn’t last for long. Kate was suddenly posted up between your legs, her arms draped over your shoulders. She was so close you could smell the mint on her breath. “To piss off Clint.”

Your hands naturally found her hips, not daring to squeeze them, “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“First of all, you didn’t ask. You saw the way Clint reacted to us sleeping together and your instincts to make him angry kicked in. Secondly, I already told him we’re dating. I have way too much talent for him to drop me as a protégé just because I’m banging his estranged daughter.”

“Wow, you have such a way with words, Kate. Really, I’m just fawning over you here.”

She rolled her eyes, but you couldn’t stifle the phantom of a smile on your face. No one had ever offered to do something like this for you before. Especially not someone this close to the playing field. People had called you a freak for most of your life, an inhuman disaster that had a hot temper.

The anger you could control. It was the intensity in which you loved that got you into the most trouble.

Footfalls echoed against the rain-soaked streets of the city. A deep burn resonated within your chest, sweat forming against your collarbone and dripping down the small of your back. You’d never seen the benefit to tactical suits in the summer. They kept heat in like no other and by the time the night was over, your entire body ached.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You’d lost one of the targets. It wasn’t something you’ve done in years, but your mind was admittedly somewhere else. You hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past week and it was showing in your sloppy work. Your mother had given you a worried look that only lasted half a second before you’d taken off.

The man you were pursuing was faster than you anticipated, but it wasn’t hard for you to catch up. You never understood why people ran into alleyways. They’d most likely lived in the city for their entire lives and knew that most of them ended in construction zones, or the end of a brownstone.

His chest heaved as he felt the wall behind him, turning and pressing his back against the wall. If he was desperate enough to run, you knew that he didn’t have a plan past this.

The tactical suit came with a few benefits that staved off the discomfort. While your mother preferred her staves, you had always leaned more towards a quarterstaff, a hot, reactive, type of metal that would glow a dangerous neon orange at just your touch.

It extended with a mechanical whir, your head tilting to the side. “Dude, really?”

“Look, I’ll never do it again!” His voice cracked like he was adolescent, but the beard that splattered the bottom half of his face betrayed the effects of his fear. “Just let me go, please.”

You closed the distance that lingered between you both, using the end of your staff to push up his chin. Your voice leaked with mock sympathy “Really? You promise?”

Half of his face was dripping with the blue dye from an exploding pack in a bundle of bills. His hands were coated entirely, the lapels of his shirt smeared from his lackluster attempt to wipe away the pigment. The man nodded vigorously.

“Oh, thank God, that’s a relief. I really thought I was going to have to take you in. The nearest station is eight blocks south and that would be a load of paperwork.”

“Yeah, yes, a lot of red tape” He shakily replied.

You slammed the quarterstaff into his gut. His breath left him, curling into himself as he fell to his knees. In the same moment, an arrow whizzed past you and lodged into his shoulder. His exhale of air turned into a scream of pain.

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose. The fletching was a dark purple, almost black under the light of the moon. Telling the difference between Clint’s arrows and Kate’s hadn’t become an issue until now. Knowing that he was in the same city as you made you feel ill.

“I had that!”

The staff retracted and you attached it back in place on your belt. So, what if you liked to play around with the perpetrators every once and awhile? You did good work, but there were long and deep lulls of footwork in the hero business.

Clint stood at the mouth of the alleyway. His stance was shadowed with the concise way he carried himself. You couldn’t tell if he was alone or not, but didn’t get the signature winter scent from Kate’s presence.

He strode up to the target, pulling the arrow from his shoulder with a gentle tug. He put it back into it’s quiver as if it wasn’t slick with blood. Clint cuffed him, dragged him into a sitting position by the arm. You watched his languid movements with a resentment you didn’t know you harbored.

“Yeah, it looked like you had it, Sparky.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

His blue eyes flicked down to your hands, watching for any signs of a dull glow. He didn’t’ find any. You balled your fists and clenched your jaw. You didn’t owe him anything. Tonight, he seemed to be approaching you with contempt, now that his initial shock had worn off.

Clint clearly didn’t’ know how to handle you, or the giant emotional elephant in the room. It was nearing midnight and there was a storm brewing, you could smell it. The last thing you wanted to do was stand by the dumpsters and discuss your feelings, so you started to walk away.

“Kid, wait. I’m approaching this all wrong. I’m sure you had it handled.” His words didn’t stop you, but he jogged to catch up and fell in step. You glared at him, shoved your suddenly cold hands into the pockets of your suit. “We need to talk about Kate.”

This stopped you in your tracks. He wanted to talk about Kate. All these years separated, living completely different lives and he wanted to talk about your fake girlfriend. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s talk about Kate.”

“You can’t continue to see her.”

You stopped, standing in front of him with your arms crossed. He had a few inches on you, but you carried his stance. One of the only things other than his stubbornness that you had inherited from him.

“I’m sorry?”

“Kate is persistent, I’m sure you know that. It took months of her poking and prodding for me to even agree to take her under my wing. She’s a good archer, but she’s reckless, thinks too much with her heart and not her brain. She can’t afford to have distractions right now.”

A brick dropped in the pit of your stomach. The flames seemed to lick viciously at your pulse points. But, you swallowed it back and let out a sad laugh. “You don’t think I’m good enough for her.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to, you did all the talking when you walked out on me at eight years old. Then you come waltzing back after years of building the family you wanted. The family that wasn’t filled with freaks.”

“Y/n, I don’t-“

“Because that’s all we ever were for you.” You growled at him. “the accident was just the excuse you needed to leave, and you’ve spent your time trying to make up for it by parenting every single stray that shows up on your doorstep expect for me.”

He was rendered silent, something that Clint rarely was. He opened his mouth and closed it again, a few times as if he was a fish out of water. You were breathing heavy, the words stinging your throat. You’d been harboring that for years, burying it deep inside. He’d tripped the metaphorical wire.

When he did find his voice, it was cracked and morose. “Okay. You’re right, you’re right.”

“I’m… right?”

He nodded sadly “I haven’t been fair to you, or your mother. I was a different person back then. I just don’t want Kate to get hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have.”

A step back from him seemed to clear your mind. For a moment, you wanted to crash into his safe embrace, to breathe in the scent of his aftershave. He was your father, your biological father, and despite it all, you were drawn to his kindness.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, mouth tasting of metal and bile. “You’re afraid of me, Hawkeye. You always have been.”

“That’s not true” He said it weakly.

“It is. You wouldn’t have run the moment I became different if you weren’t.” another step back and he didn’t’ dare to follow you. You vowed not to cry in front of him, or about him. Not now, and not ever, but you couldn’t stop the tears from streaking your cheeks. “You don’t have to worry about Kate Bishop. She can take care of herself. And so can I.”

#Kate Bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x y/n #Kate Bishop x you #Kate bishop x reader #Hawkeye #Hawkeye fanfiction #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction #hurt/comfort #Ask #bobbi morse #lance hunter #mockingbird #clint barton #Reader has fire powers

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xoxovalrea · 5 months

Text

Ifhy. Fugishiro m. + !fem reader

🎀Based on this audio🎀

༊*·˚ Warnings- hatefuck-ish, rude words, alcohol use, mentions of weed, dom megumi, sub reader, smut

༊*·˚ A/n: pretend megumi is gojos bsf cus this isn’t like yuji😇☺️

༊*·˚ Sypno: You’re at a party you came for one sole reason, your crush. Just to find out he has a gf. Butt things work out in the end.

⋆·˚ ༘ * MINORS DNI🕊️ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

You liked gojo for a while. A while as in one whole college semester and two weeks during the summer. To back track you gave up on him after a party a specific party at that was of course hosted by the man himself Gojo and his dick of a best friend megumi. You three were friends you and megumi were even in the same classes but there was always this tension between you guys.

Anyways, your bestie nobara heard about a party gojo is hosting. Of course being the best friend ever she encourages you to go because “he might see how hot you are and tap that i would too honestly” you hit her and you both laughed in response.

Fast forwarding to the night of the party, you took a nap because shit you were fucking tired from all the beach trips you did previously throughout the week. You woke up two hours prior which was NOT enough time to get ready but who the hell shows up for a party the time it starts? You hopped in the shower cleaning off all the crusties and musties you had. You of course shaved EVERYTHING just in case Nobara was right. But you had a feeling the night would not go as planned.

There wasn’t really a theme but you knew it was a typical house party. So you threw on a black halter top and a beige mini skirt you didn’t really care about with some black shoes. You sprayed some type of sweet smelling perfume on and called nobara.

“Bitch pick up“ you looked at the ringing facetime call. She finally answered looking like she was driving. “Heyyy you look cutee girlie” she smiled at you. “Thank you pooka what the fuck should i do to my hair pony with a side part or down with a side part” she nodded and held up a 1. You quickly did your hair and headed out of your apartment complex and saw nobara’s white honda civic in front of the place.

“Hi my fav girl” you said as you entered her car. She was putting on some sort of lipgloss. She basically had on the same thing as you but with tan pants total copy cat. “Soo have you even been talking to satoru.” She questioned as she started heading to the party. “Yea a bit he is just so damn hard to talk to like just a few weeks ago he texted so much and now im unadded on everything” She looked at you with disappointment in her eyes knowing you’re gonna spend this whole party sulking over him. Funny thing is you definitely didn’t well for the record you didn’t cry at all but you got upset and other things but for the record you didn’t cry

See what you didn’t know is megumi liked you and hated the fact that you were wrapped all around Satoru’s finger. He hated the fact that you would stare off at him and just blank out everytime you, him, and satoru hung out. He purposely let gojo fall inlove with another girl and he would casually just let gojo ghost you. He went as far as to even setting gojo up on a date just so he couldn’t have you. He wanted you to forget about him in more than one way.

Anyways, nobara just nodded and said “maybe you should try his bestfriend he’s pretty cute” you looked at her like she was crazy “oh he HATES my fucking guts nobara. he wants me dead like the stares he gives me are the worst” you whine she shrugs her shoulders and adds “well maybe megs wants to rearrange them you know its always the quiet ones” she giggles as you punch her shoulder and blush. You guys arrive to the party at around 9:30 ish As soon as you step into the house the thick sent of weed engulfs your lungs. Yea you smoked every 5 months but that smell could be the worst but the best at the same time.

You see nobara walk off leaving you all alone. “Well just say fuck me huh” you mutter to yourself trying to find the kitchen. You see megumi pouring himself a drink a simple one at that rum and coke. “excuse me” you say pushing past him to get a cup and some pink Whitney and a sprite . He looked you up and down rolling his eyes and scoffing “all dressed up huh“ he says taking a sip of his drink. You finish pouring your drink, “yea i guess“ you laugh “well you look like a slut” he chuckles trying to insult you “you must like sluts“ you reply as you walk off to find nobara. Feeling his eyes piercing through your skull. Yea megumi was cute but his attitude was fucking terrible.

As you walk around you see gojo kissing a girl. You felt every bone in your body twitch with not with hate just sadness. Being honest you only liked his attention he was cute but his attention was amazing. The playful texts the calls everything it was amazing. You felt a tear run down your face and you walked upstairs towards the bathroom bumping into megumi who scowled at you.

You gained your composure after a solid 5 minutes of standing in the mirror with a burning throat feeling you couldn’t even cry. You sat on the stairs scowling and pouting at gojo and his new girlfriend. She was beautiful really really beautiful. You were snapped out of your thoughts when someone pushed you. It was megumi standing infront of you.

“Enjoying the view?” Megumi questions as he laughs. “Go to hell” you say looking up at him pouting. “Already there” you roll your eyes as he sits down next to you. “the outfit didnt work huh?” He pouts at you as you shift over. “You know you could probably fuck anyone here but your too focused on gojos dick” you roll your eyes again trying not to curse megumi out “you wanna bet?” You say out of confidence. “Oh you’d lose in an instant”

You remember what nobara said and sigh. You grab megumi’s hoodie and straddle his lap seeing his face tint pink. “Are you fucking crazy” you roll your eyes as if he isnt getting rock hard under you right now. “Your not even pushing me off dont deny it now” you laugh looking into his low glossy eyes. “Well fuck kiss me.” He says you hesitate a little looking at gojo who obviously isnt paying any mind to yall. You kiss him gently holding his face. You feel him get harder by the second as you grind on his lap trying to get some friction.

Megumi snakes his hands around your waist. He sighs a bit as he deepens the kiss and carries you into gojos room. He quickly opens and shuts the door pushing you against the wall kissing you harder. He hooked his hands under your bra cupping your breasts.

“You’re such a slut you know that right?” You gasp in response as he pinches your nipples. You think about how wrong this is especially fucking Gojos best friend in his room. You snap out of your thoughts from the feeling of being picked up megumi still dominating your mouth as he sits you on the bed. “Come on baby open that pretty mouth let me fuck it” he unzips his pants pulling them down along with his underwear. Revealing his pale colored dick suprizingly he was pretty big. He shoved his length in your mouth making you gag violently. He groaned loudly as he slowly thrusted in your mouth picking up pace by the second.

“So fucking wet and warm” he growled as he fucked your throat at this point he should be in your lungs because you can barely breathe with his length. “Look at me pretty girl” he said as he held your face you looked at him with cock drunk eyes and spit running down your chin. He rolled his eyes and took his cock out of your mouth. “lay down and spread your legs” he ripped your skirt off examined the wet spot on your panties and whispered a low fuck. Yes you hated megumi but fuck it felt so good to see a man look at your body like a starved animal. He kissed up and down your thighs leaving small marks, finally he slid your panties off revealing your arousal and pocketed them. He kissed the soft fleash of your pussy then licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit. You shivered at the sensation after a long minute of licking he finally sucked your clit making your hand jolt to his hair.

You arched and moaned as megumi ate you out. Really his tounge was skilled the muscle knew every spot inside and out of your body. “More” you uttered out in pleasure and he added two fingers in. You gripped his hair tightly from the sudden stretch he growled as you tightened around him. His fingers hit every spot you couldn’t its like you hated him for making you feel this good but at the same time you loved every second of it. You didn’t realize how this whole time he was watching expressions until he spoke “no come on baby look at me look at me and cum all over my face” you opened your eyes as your orgasm suddenly began building up you were seconds from coming eyes tearing up body shaking you came all over his fingers he lapped up your sweet liquids and came up to kiss your neck.

“Surprisingly you taste really fucking good” you scoffed at him he chuckled and slapped your ass harshly “Say thank you” you rolled your eyes “for what? Gojo’s probably better” you knew what you were doing you’re making him jealous it really fucked him up seriously. He looked at you like you were fucking stupid “Take it back” you laughed repeating what you said “really okay” he kissed you roughly biting your lip making it bleed breaking the kiss then flipping you into doggy style pushing your head into gojos pillows slapping your ass harshly multiple times then slapping his dick on your pussy. He slid it in quickly thrusting in giving you no time to adjust. Your eyes were rolling back head foggy not even 10 minutes in thats how good his dick was. You tried not to moan loud but megumi didn’t like it he grabbed your neck and yanked your head back to look at him. “Come on moan like the slut you are” you had no choice really you moaned his name loud enough for the whole house to hear luckily the music was up extremely loud. “Megumi fuck too big I can’t-“ he shoved your head back into the pillows he hated the word ‘can’t’ it just wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“Fuck megumi please im sorry” you dont know how many orgasms or how many positions megumi put you in but you know he wasnt even close to cumming and you guys ended up on the floor. “No no you want gojo right dont even think about moaning my name slut.” He smacked your ass harshly as he twitched inside of you as you came again. “Sorry ‘m so so sorry” you say slurred he laughs as he watches your make up run down your hot cheeks biting your shoulders again “awhh you want my cum baby? Or you want gojo to fill you up?” You shake your head no violently he doesn’t take this as an answer and slaps your ass four times making you scream. “Please you i want only you please cum in me please” you moan as he rubs your clit violently groaning and picking up his speed as be finally climaxes inside of you. “Fuckk baby you feel so fucking good” he shutters as he pulls out putting his cum back in with his fingers. Fingering you slowly to your last climax. You arch your back and cry his name as you squirt all over his fingers with a slight shake as you slowly fall asleep.

He picks you up off the floor and places you on the bed seeing you fall asleep. He laughs and puts on his clothes and dresses you carrying your sleeping body over his shoulders down the stairs letting gojo and nobara you guys are leaving. You woke up in the morning groggy and sore from last nights events, you felt a hand pull you in closer as you tried to get away. “Stop fucking moving” you rolled your eyes but obliged when the not so mysterious man behind you kissed your neck. “Megumi stop” you rolled over and kissed his lips softly as he looked at you with sleepy eyes arms still wrapped around your waist. He buried himself in your breasts and fell back asleep you did the did same resting your chin in his hair.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

THE END💗

This may be the last jjk fanfic I write as of rn😭 i gotta move on. Bye lovessss💗💗💗

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu megumi #loverzzlane

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imtryingbuck · 2 months

Text

Heartbreak and confessions.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: DBF!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: your father’s best friend is there for you when you have your heartbroken.

Word count: 1,131

Warnings: fluff. angst. heartbreak. Steve falling in love. legal age gap. cheating (ex boyfriend)

Masterlist

Your boyfriend - correction ex-boyfriend had sent you a text message telling you that he had cheated on you, and he was breaking up with you to be with her. A whole paragraph he had sent you, a whole paragraph telling you how much better this girl was than you, how much prettier and better she was in bed, a whole paragraph explaining what you had done wrong to make him cheat, and then also telling you not to contact him again now that he was happy. You read the whole message with tears in your eyes and falling down your cheeks, heart breaking into little pieces at reading it. Not had he broken your trust by cheating on you but he hadn’t even had the audacity to break up with in person.

Sending him ‘ok.’ before throwing your phone to the other sofa, you buried your head into a cushion and released a gut wrenching cry. You felt stupid for crying over a cheater but you had been with him for three years and he threw all that away for a girl he had met on a night out with his friends a few weeks ago.

You had lost track of how long you had been crying over him, lost in your own despair and devastation that when you felt a hand on your shoulder you screamed.

“I’m sorry darling, I didn’t mean- hey, why are you crying?” It was Steve. Your dads best friend, and the man you had been harbouring a crush on since you turned eighteen, the man who cried on your shoulder three days after you eighteenth birthday when he fiancée had left him for someone else.

“I-I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Why are you crying?” He asked again, his ocean like eyes moving around your body looking for signs of injuries.

“It-it doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does sweetheart. Come on, tell me”

“He cheated on me and then broke up with me to be with her.”

Steve sighed, he had always hated your boyfriend from the second he had met him. He thought - no, knew that you deserved so much better than that boy, you truly deserved the world. Steve wasn’t so sure of when he started seeing you in a different light - he knew it was as soon as you turned eighteen, he always knew you was beautiful having the resemblance of your mother but something changed after your birthday. His heart would tingle whenever you were near him, his thoughts would be surrounded on you. He knew it was wrong, he had known you since you were twelve years old, if your dad knew of his feelings he wouldn’t hold back on his punches and the blond knew this.

“Sweet girl, he doesn’t deserve those tears”

“I-I know but I loved him. I loved him so much” Steve inhales the sweet smell of your shampoo as you laid your head on his chest, his hand rubbing circles against your back as you cried into his shirt, soaking the material. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. You deserve someone so much better than him.”

“Like you?” He heard you mumble.

“Yeah like me but younger”

“Why younger?” You ask, lifting your head up - searching his eyes for answers.

“I… I’m a bit too old for you darling.”

“Your a year younger than my dad-“

“Exactly. I’m old” You chuckle at his words, he might be older than you but he didn’t look it, didn’t act like it. Definitely didn’t look older either.

Steve wiped away the tears with the pad of his thumbs, stroking your cheeks softly as you looked into his eyes. You didn’t notice straight away that you were leaning in, or that you stopped just inches away from his plumb, inviting lips but Steve does. His eyes bounce from your eyes to your lips, lightly licking his own, he asks you silently if you are sure you want this your head nods, Steve closes the gap between the two of you. Both sighing in content the moment your lips touch, the kiss you two share is sweet and soft and when it’s time for the pair of you to pull away from one another, you smile shyly.

“Was-was that okay?”

“Better than I ever imagined.” You admitted, his shirt being scrunched up in your fist - not wanting him to move back from you.

“You are so beautiful Y/n, so so beautiful. But we can’t do this again” he says it even though it pains him to speak those words.

“Why? I’m an adult-“

“You’re upset. You’ve just found out what that bastard did and you’re confused-“

“I’m not. I mean I’m upset but I’m not confused Stevie, I want this. I want to be with you”

“Sweet girl-“

“I love you Stevie. Don’t… don’t you love me too?”

“I do. God knows I do baby but… I, we know your father will hate this.”

“All my dad wants is me to be happy, and you will make me happier than I’ve even felt, I just know it and he’ll understand”

“Before or after he beats me to a bloody pulp?” He asks chuckling. Pushing the few strands of hair away from your face to behind your ear.

“After, obviously” you chuckle along with him. “I want to be with you Stevie”

“I want to be with you too sweet girl”

“I thought you’re too old for me” you smirk, pulling him in for another kiss.

Steve nods, giving you a soft smile that made your heart flutter. “That’s right but that doesn’t mean I can stop the feelings I have around you and only for you.”

When your dad found out - two months later - that you and Steve were dating, his first reaction was to attack Steve, naturally. But he saw the difference in you, you was smiling and laughing more, you were more confident and content than you were when you was with you ex - who by the way had messaged you a week after he broke your heart telling you it was all a mistake, that he wanted you back and throwing empty promises after empty promises to you.

Your dad found it weird that his best friend was dating his daughter but didn’t get in the way of your happiness just like you knew he would. He watched you and his best friend laying on the grass looking up at the stars one night, knowing that Steve was telling you their names and the stories behind them, he just knew that you was safe and loved by Steve.

He was just happy that you had finally met your other half. Even if it was his best friend.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

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mcondance · 6 months

Text

southern fantasy

— this is indulgently a self-ship. | reader is explicitly and beautifully Black southern (specifically from louisiana). this is literally the definition of “i wrote this for myself, but you can read it too.” | no smut 😱 | hotch got me writing fluff yall do you know how out of character this is for me? | inspired by @murdrdocs’s persisting southern enthusiasm with her characters | story is non-linear mostly, just snapshots if you wanna call it that

1.2k words of fluff and southern fantasy, ft hotch. a love letter to my state, and to hotch.

in the car, hotch’s finger taps in time against the steering wheel, sliding gracefully into the rhythm of the song rumbling out of the stereo. the sun is setting, casting a glow over his face, outlining his prominent nose and cheeks, lighting up the smile on his face.

southern skies are beautiful when you’ve got hotch to see them with.

the south is your home, your territory, your space. hotch, on the other hand, is new. he was fresh, but he’s fit in so well. the difference in birthplaces was stark, at the start, hotch’s eyes gaining a youthful glow every time you showed him a green bayou or took him to a gas station in the middle of nowhere with chicken and meat pies so hot he laughed through the burn.

he still sees everything like it’s new, eyes surveying the small towns you take him through, telling him you have family from here or there, about how your dad knows someone from here and your mom’s childhood friend lives here now. but he’s experienced, has a thing for the nights when it’s quiet out, when even in your bed he can hear the crickets chirping just outside the window.

he likes the drives, the rolling roads and graveled streets and towns that pop up here and there. the breaks in trees that reveal a church, the yellow, faded Dollar General signs and the pastures with cows and horses grazing away.

the towns are his favorite, though. small and cozy, one store for everyone, a mom & pop shop, a church.

lousiana summers are hot, bright and burning and, with the proper precautions, he can enjoy you in the sunshine. under the shade of pecan trees, a distance away from the playground, you sit across him on a checkered blanket, and it looks the image of a picnic date, your dress loose and flowing.

the nights are his favorite, too. you’d both picked a house on the edge of town, half an hour away from the nearest big store, where it’s more practical to hit a market or a gas station than drive to Walmart.

so at night, when it gets dark, it gets dark. he’s never seen the stars so clear until he met you. you and your southern wit entranced him and are still entrancing him now. he likes the subtle differences, the different ways you go about things.

and if he’s being honest, your drawl makes his head spin. he hangs on your words, on the elongated syllables and sour twang and how your accent grows deeper when you’re angry about something, or when you’re so excited your words twist and curl around themselves.

he can’t help but poke fun at you for it sometimes, when you’re speaking normally and a word comes out a little more flavored than the others.

he repeats it to you in his own voice, laughing as you scold him, saying he knew you were country when he met you.

“i did,” he concedes, and it’s like a gut-punch every time he speaks with such fondness about anything related to the relationship you two have shared.

you showed him a different kind of southern, one that isn’t horses and cowboy boots, but parties with familiar songs and a city where everyone knows everyone, nights with fireflies, and foxes you just barely catch glimpses of, rap groups proclaiming their pride in their southern heritage and experiences you only know if you’ve been here.

he’s learned some party songs, and you’ve taught him the dances. he’s so comfortable with them now that he can do them with his arms draped over your shoulders, leaning into the groove as the family you welcomed him into enjoys themselves around him.

he’s a dream at the backyard parties. he lets the kids bounce him on the trampoline, and hang off his shoulders, and pretends like he doesn't see your little cousins sneaking up on him with water guns that look more like water bazookas.

“you know, if that thing isn’t registered, i could confiscate it,” he jokes, dripping with water and too entertained to even fein professionalism.

your cousins shriek with delight, running off to no doubt refill their guns and attack him again.

he’s got rhythm, for a white guy, still awkward but endearing and he’s got enough to make the line dances fun. he claims his favorite is a toss up between “cupid shuffle” and “candy,” but it’s obvious what he leans toward more. he hears the bassline of “candy” and he’s rising out of his chair with a beer in his hand and turning to pull you up too, dancing you backwards into the mass of your family.

your love for him grows with every party you attend, with every dramatic slap he delivers to the ground.

he watches you run and play with your siblings, grown but morphing into the children in the pictures hanging on the walls of the house, your dress soft and purple and flowing and he falls further in love when he hears you scream “stop, i’m not playin’ with you,” all country and playful and beautiful.

inside, squeezed up beside you on a chair, the darkness of night falling over the party and moving everyone inside, his heart is light. he goes back for more plates than he’s proud of, pretending like he doesn’t hear a cousin or aunt giggling at you as he walks away with the promise of bringing you more lemonade.

he’s grown accustomed to the hour long goodbyes, where he’s still talking to your dad or brother about something or the other with his keys dangling in his hand and you talking to your aunt as she plates and wraps up another bowl of her banana pudding.

and the drives. god, the drives. he traded his big truck in for a lowrider at your request, an old car from the 70s that’ll fall apart before it needs to hit the shop. he’s navigated this road more times than he can count, knows what gas station is where and when to look out for the nasty bends and twists that are so prevalent back here.

there’s a CD labeled with yours and hotch’s name in the player, fashioned with hearts all around and a plus between the two names. the sunset flows in through the window, eclipsing hotch’s face and molding him so perfectly with the sky you swear he belongs there.

high and happy, the gas station stop is silly, you fill the small space up with your laughs and chopped up words and hotch laughs with you, finding humor in the smallest things with you.

there’s soft conversation and snacking and feeding him food, him trying and holding his own on a particularly difficult song. he slows the car down, at times, cruises way under the limit cause he just wants to look at you, wants to indulge in the sight of you while he listens to you speak in that tone he can’t get enough of.

he really can’t get over your accent. he gets wrapped up in the push and pull of it, the lows and the highs and the way you sometimes sound like a southern belle, sweet-talking him into staying in bed another hour or hitting the store nearest your house for a drink.

his ears perk up when he hears the subtle (and sometimes, not so subtle) inflection, the way you say “baby,” how his name sounds different from your mouth. he’s wrapped up in a southern girl, in the life he’s grateful to have been given.

southern nights with hotch, through the window of a car or in a closed-in porch on a house in the middle of nowhere, are a dream. a fantasy.

#hotch x reader #hotch fluff #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner x black reader #aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #— 🎠#mcondance 2024 #. southern hotch

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illegal-spiegel · 3 months

Text

ꜱᴏʀᴇ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ

ꜱᴘɪᴋᴇ ꜱᴘɪᴇɢᴇʟ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴘɪᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴅʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴘɪɴɢ, ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴅᴀ ɴᴀꜱᴛʏ ᴏɴ ᴀ ɢʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴍᴀᴛ ʟᴍᴀᴏ, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx?, ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛɪᴏɴɪꜱᴍ??, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Spike leans against the doorway as he watches you, a secret, fond smile on his lips. You’re in nothing but a navy blue bra and a matching pair of shorts, but his eyes are trained on the way your hands are moving. You’re up on your tippy-toes moving around the mat, your hands protected by the black kumpur as you lay consecutive, hard hits to the punching bag. He lets out an inaudible hum when you start doing jab crosses followed by some lead teeps. He has to admit, he’s impressed by how far you’ve come with your fighting abilities since he first met you.

After watching you for a couple of minutes, you drop your hands and grab the punching bag to stop it from swinging around. Your chest rises and falls with your labored breathing, and who can really blame Spike for staring, especially since you’re just letting sweat bead down your neck and letting it go down the valley of your breasts.

“Need something, Spiegel?” you suddenly call out, shocking him from his staring contest with your breasts. He looks up to your eyes to find you smirking at him, making him smirk right back with a hum.

“Yeah. Let’s go. You and me, one on one. Mano y mano,” he says as he steps further into the room, walking towards the dueling mat. You raise a brow at this, starting to remove your kumpur as you follow him in the direction of the mat.

“What, seriously? You never want to fight me,” you reply, voice laced with suspicion. He turns to look at you over his shoulder, his brow cocking up while a smirk starts to crawl across his face.

“Well, now I do. I was scared of hurting you before, but now I know that you can take me,” he replies, stopping in the middle of the mat and starting to undo the buttons of his coat. You stop at the edge of the mat, placing your hands onto your hips after you place the kumpur onto the chair by the mat, which is where you normally sit while he spars with someone else.

“You should’ve known for months that I’m capable of that. You’ve seen me take down people twice my size,” you reply, your tone becoming exasperated and your arms crossing over your chest now as you stare him down.

“‘Nough chit-chat. More fighting,” he says as he spins to face you, tossing his coat onto the chair with annoyingly perfect precision.

“Fine. Have it your way,” you grumble, walking towards him. His smirk only gets bigger as you grow closer. He’s not only happy that you agreed but he’s also glad that he was able to irk you. Maybe that’ll throw you off your game.

You two start circling each other, both of you studying the other and debating if you should attack first or not. You know Spike is good at defense, so you decide to go on the defensive and let him attack first. And, just like he taught you, you avoid his punch with fluid movements and watch his fist whiz past your face. Your eyes flit to his with a smirk before you’re landing an uppercut to his chin.

He staggers back a step before catching himself, using that momentum to lift his other foot and swing it toward you. You duck under his leg easily but miss the punch he lands on your cheek right after. You grunt and reel back from it, quickly stepping further away when he comes back for another punch with the opposite hand. He tries to land six more punches before you finally go back onto the offensive. You grab ahold of his arm after his last attempt at punching you, tugging him towards your side and using your other arm to jab him in the gut with your elbow. This hit causes him to grunt and fall backward, swaying as he tries to find his footing.

While he’s caught off guard, you swiftly rush towards him and swipe his feet out from underneath him. He gasps as he flies towards the ground, landing with a loud thud and an even louder grunt. You’re quick to crawl on top of him and pin him down, but he’s not going down that easily. He flips you as soon as you lift one leg to get higher above him, making you gasp when he flips you onto your back. Just like him though, you’re not going down without a fight.

He smirks down at you as he pins your arms, sweat beading on his forehead. “One...two...” he starts to mockingly count, making you squint your eyes up at him. Before he can get to three though, you lift your hips up and throw him up above your body. He grunts as his face makes impact with the floor, letting go of your wrists to quickly push himself back up onto his hands to regain some balance.

With your arms now free, you wrap your arms around his torso, tucking yourself tight against his chest as you pull yourself up his body a bit, hearing the hammering of his heart for a second. Wrapping your left arm around his right, you tuck the arm into his side, causing him to lose his balance completely. With no arm holding him up, he topples over to his right, letting you use that momentum to roll back on top of him.

With you in control again, your legs pin his thighs down while your hands hastily pin his down just like how he had done to you. He pants as he stares up at you, the sweat on his forehead sliding back towards his hairline. You smirk when he doesn’t try to throw you off, impressed with that last move you did. He’s never seen something like that before, even after all these years of fighting.

“I win,” you boast after counting to three, letting go of his wrists and sitting back. You swipe at your forehead when you feel the sweat there threatening to fall down your face, your chest heaving with each breath you take as you try to regain oxygen back into your desperate lungs. Just as you’re about to get off of Spike though, you feel something. It has your body completely freezing as you assess what it is.

“Is that your gun I’m feeling or are you unusually excited about losing?” you promptly ask, unsure of which one you want it to be. You can feel a newfound heat spreading through your body though, that being a telltale for your brain to know what it wants the answer to be. You blame the fact that you’re up in space and only stop on planets for bounties. No one on this goddamn starship has gotten laid in months because they’ve been so busy.

“What can I say? I love the kind of woman that can kick my ass.”

Your jaw drops open a bit at his words, your cheeks getting hotter when you see his eyes are heavy-lidded and clouded with lust. “What?” you breathe, suddenly finding it hard to speak. Instead of verbally replying to you though, he grabs the back of your neck and tugs you down for a kiss. Despite the initial shock of being kissed by the self-proclaimed ‘woman hater,' you quickly melt into the kiss. The kiss is immediately one full of passion, desperation, and need. As you explore the other’s mouth, your teeth clack against each other rather painfully every so often, but neither of you pulls away from the messy kiss, even as drool starts to slide down Spike’s cheek.

It may be messy, but it’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

Well, that is until he flips you over again just like he had done earlier, and you almost whine when he doesn’t instantly go back to kissing you. He smirks at the wretched look etched across your face, using the back of his hand to wipe the spit off his face as he studies you, almost as if he were trying to figure out just what he should do with you. “Open up,” he suddenly directs, grabbing your cheeks with one hand to hold your face in place for him. Without hesitation you comply, parting your lips eagerly for him, eyes locked on his as you gaze up out from under him. A devilish grin stretches across his face at your willingness to follow his order without question, and he leans down, his face moving to hover over yours. And before you can even realize what he’s doing, he’s spitting into your mouth.

You make a muffled noise in confusion, trying to process the fact that he had just spat into your mouth, treating you as if you were nothing more than the scum beneath his feet. You know that you should be more than beyond pissed, to push him off of you and storm up right from out of there. And yet despite that, you can’t help the way his downright filthy and untamed behavior manages to turn you on.

“There. Now we’re even,” he says softly between pants, a devilish smirk on his face. He’s then surging forward, reconnecting your lips with his for another desperate kiss, during which you can’t help but moan between the gasps of air you take. Your noises only grow more frequent and louder in volume as he starts grinding against you teasingly. Though neither of you has removed any clothes, you can still feel just how much he has to offer, and the thought alone excites you. His hands roam your bare thighs, going from there up to your bare midriff.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy. I’ve wanted to do this ever since your dumbass walked onto the Bebop,” Spike admits through a groan after pulling away from the kiss, letting his head drop forward a bit as he grinds against you harder.

“Then stop wasting time,” you hiss, spreading your legs further for him. He chuckles lowly and tilts his head to look back up at you, wearing his usual smirk on his lips.

“Beg for it,” he commands, his voice sounding so deep that it sounds downright sinister, especially with that demand.

“No,” you grit out, trying to keep your hips from gravitating up towards his warm body to his hard cock that he’s refusing to give you. You weren’t going to stoop that low for him and you decided that you would keep your pride till the very end. He raises a brow at your denial, pulling away to lean back on his knees, looking down at you as his fingers move to knock against your chin to tilt your head up towards him.

“No? Hm, okay,” he replies all too calmly, making your skin tingle with the possibilities of what he’s planning. You gasp when he unexpectedly forces two fingers past your lips and into your mouth, your moan being stopped by his fingers. His fingers taste salty, like sweat, and despite the fact it’s a little gross, you’re loving it all the same. Your eyes flutter up at him, his watching you with supposed disinterest.

You know better though.

You’re able to read him like a book now. His face appears blank and impartial, but it’s the little things that give him away. The way his eyes stare transfixed at how your lips suck him in, the way his chest rises and falls faster and faster each time you rove your tongue against his fingers, the way his pants are getting tighter and his hips jump up slightly anytime you give his digits a harsh suck. He can try all he wants to hide how he’s really feeling, but you know him more than he likes to admit.

He lets out a groan when you reach up and bring another one of his fingers into your mouth, his head falling back as he thrusts his hips down against yours. You mewl at the friction that’s returned, sucking hard on his fingers and rubbing your tongue against his fingers faster.

You whimper around his digits when his free hand suddenly comes down and rubs you through your shorts. Your legs part further for him yet again, craving for more of his touch on your throbbing cunt. He chuckles when he sees this, using that hand to slide your shorts down.

He manically grins when he finds that you’re not wearing panties, his eyes trained on your wet pussy. “No panties, hm?” he teases, starting to stroke his fingers up from your dripping hole to your swollen clit. “You were over here training with no panties on like a true slut, weren’t ya?” he coos, slipping a single finger in. It feels good, but it's nowhere near enough to get you off and he knows that.

“You sure you don’t wanna beg, baby? This pretty pussy here looks quite desperate for my cock,” he purrs, rubbing his thumb across your clit with his other hand. You shake your head, your breathing starting to become as labored as when you were fighting. “Still no? Alright then.”

He slips his finger out of you as well as removes his thumb from your clit. You whine before you can stop yourself. It doesn’t go unheard. “Last chance, love. Beg for it,” he growls, squinting his eyes down at you.

“No,” you growl right back, glaring up at him in defiance.

“Fine,” he grunts out. “You can take care of it yourself since you want to act like such a damn brat.” And with that he pulls away from your touch completely, bringing himself back to his feet as he dusts himself off and turns to walk away from your disheveled form on the ground and walking towards the exit.

Another thing that comes with knowing how to read someone like a book is knowing when they’re bluffing right through their teeth to get what they want out of you. So, naturally, you call him out on his bluff.

Pushing yourself up by your elbows, you smirk back up at him mischievously. “What is it, Spiegel? Trying to run away from a fight that you started with your tail between your legs? Seems a bit cowardly, doncha think?” you taunt.

And just like that, he’s stopping in his tracks.

“You really don’t know when to keep that mouth of yours shut, do you?” He replies cooly, swiftly walking back over to you and using his heel to push at your shoulder to force you back to the ground. The force of his actions knocks the wind out of you for a moment, but you’re quick to recover.

“Ah, but you love this mouth of mine, don’t you? So much so that you’ve been wanting to take me ever since—what was it?—that I walked onto the Bebop? Seems like you like me a bit more than you try to let on,” you reply with a shit-eating grin. He huffs and shoves his foot off of you before standing in a lazy stance in front of you, his shoulders slouched as he pockets his hands.

“I’m not gonna help you get you off anymore if that’s what you’re going for,” he says lowly, trying to act as if he’s unbothered by it all. You clench your jaw at his words despite knowing that he wants nothing more than to jump your bones right now. He’s just too stubborn to admit it and to give in to his desires. Well, two can play at that game. You’re just as stubborn as he is, if not more so.

“Fine. Feel free to see yourself out then,” you sass, spreading your legs to show your naked core. His eyes immediately flicker down to your drooling cunt, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. Your own lips quirk up into a smirk, your hand lowering down to your heat with a hum. Once your hand starts to flick your swollen clit, your clenching hole oozes more of your arousal. “Ah, fuck,” you moan dramatically, wanting to egg Spike on further. You watch his hands clench by his side, his jaw clamping shut as he tries to convince himself to walk away to win this fight.

“Will you cut it out? Jet or Faye could walk in at any minute!” he hisses, going as far as to kick his foot out to lightly nudge you.

“Yeah? How come it was okay for you to do this to me, but now it’s a problem? Hm?” you start, dipping two of your fingers into your hole with a pornographic moan. “Scared they might see what you think is yours? Hm? You think Jet or Faye wants to touch me this way? Wh-”

Before you can even blink, he’s hovering over you again with one hand tugging your fingers out of your squelching hole while the other is pulling your hair harshly. You let out a groan of pain, your eyes rolling back into your head for a moment.

“Listen here, slut. This pussy is mine and if you even think for a goddamn second that I would let them-” He stops talking when you start giggling, causing his face to only scrunch up further in anger. He realizes then that you were just egging him on, trying to get him to snap and spill the truth. “You’re going to wish you had just begged,” he says in between staggered breaths, his body becoming an inferno with newfound heat and lust.

“Challenge accepted,” you breathe out before his lips crash against yours. His teeth gnaw at your lip and he forces his tongue into your mouth, his fingers hooking inside of your cunt to hit that spongey spot every single time. You moan into the kiss, your hips thrusting up a bit to meet his fingers’ thrust.

And only a few minutes later, you’re cumming. Jesus, he really knows what he’s doing with those fingers. You pull away from the kiss, whining when he continues to finger fuck you. “Spike,” you stutter out, grabbing his wrist to try and get him to stop or at least slow down.

“What?” he growls, his eyes watching as he continues to finger-bang you.

“I’m sensitive, stop,” you whine. You and he know good and well that if you really wanted him to stop, you could force him to stop. You like that you have no control over him though, no control over your own body.

“Cry about it,” he bites back, glaring down a you. You groan as he continues to use his fingers on you, trying to draw another orgasm out of you. Your eyes roll back into your head, your legs clamping down around his arm to yet again try to stop him.

You see your mistake now. Maybe you really should have just asked nicely for his cock. Because now, he’s just going to keep making you cum in any and every way he knows how until he’s satisfied.

When you start getting close to your second orgasm, you look up at him again to find him evilly grinning down at you. “Yeah, take it like the slut you are,” he coos, moving his fingers deeper inside of you. You cry out as your orgasm slams into you, your body quaking beneath him.

You gasp in relief when he rips his fingers out of you, watching as he stares at his fingers in mock disgust as he makes a scissoring motion in the air. “You’re fucking soaked…” he comments, seemingly more so to himself than to you as he watches your cum stick to his fingers as he pulls them apart before pushing them back together to repeat the action.

His eyes suddenly flicker to you, a sadistic smile on his face. “Ready for the real thing, slut?” he taunts as he unzips his pants and pulls his dick out. Your eyes shift down and bulge at the sight of it. His cock is veiny and sits heavy in his hand, the tip reaching way past where he holds it at the base. His eyes are lidded as he swipes the head through your cum that’s still dribbling out of your cunt.

“Be a good girl and take it,” he whispers just before pushing it into the base.

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