#anyway my biceps and my back look. dare I say. kinda hot.

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

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[donutloverxo]

Soooo there are many fics where reader makes steve jealous and it ends in rogh possesive fcking.. but what if steve tries to make reader jealous and it totally backfires and she becomes extremely insecure?? But please with a fluffy ending because my poor heart can’t handle anything less 🥺🥺

Hey. Thanks for the request and I hope this fits. *gif is not mine* Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

"Um... yes?" You asked as you brought down the hand which was holding out a twenty dollar bill - since you thought it was the pizza you've been waiting for, for like the past half an hour, and not a blond, six feet and some inches,tall super soldier.

"Hi... doll," he smiled.

"My name's Y/N," you corrected him as you frowned, so fed up of men undermining you by calling you such 'sweet' nicknames. You knew Captain Rogers wasn't like that, but still you couldn't have him getting any ideas.

"Right," he cleared his throat as he repeated your name. "Sorry," he said with a toothy grin, which almost made your heart melt.

"How did you get my address, Captain?"

"Tony gave it to me. I would've asked you at work... but I wanted to do this the right way."

"Do what?" you quirked a brow.

"Um, I maybe people aren't as formal nowadays," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "But I can't really change who I am... not so late in life anyway," he cringed as he realised he was pretty rambling then, taking a deep breath he gathered enough courage, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, as my date, to the valentines party this Sunday."

You hummed at that, considering it because damn if Rogers wasn't convincing. Even when he wasn't as authoritative and dominating as he is when he puts on the suit.

It would be nice to be courted and treated nicely, and to not have to put up with the shit most men try to pull with you, you were sure Rogers would show you the time of your life. Besides, only an idiot would say no to him.

"No." You said with a finality that left no room for debate. "Is that all?"

"Uh... I... yes..." he stammered, not exactly prepared to be turned down so bluntly. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't shit where I eat."

"What?" his eyebrows cutely scrunching up.

You just knew you must've touched a nerve with your crass language. Tony, your boss, had told you about Cap and his 'language' incident.

"I don't date people at work... it can get complicated," you explained as he nodded.

It wasn't a complete lie. You didn't want to be known as the 'easy' girl or have others gossip about you. But that would be a sacrifice you'd willing make for someone like Steve. Who'd dare make fun of the Captains girl anyway?

You had been smitten with him from the moment you saw him, learning about his bravery and sacrifice as a kid you looked upto him and respected him, but when you met him in real life... you were a complete goner. Your stomach did somersaults every time he touched you, or hell even looked your way.

You tried your best to flirt, which was basically you stuttering and trying to make small talk whenever you had a chance to talk to him. Since he was born almost a century ago he would probably be offended if you were the one to make the first move.

You continued your back and forth for weeks before he told you about her. That he'll be visiting her over the weekend. You simply nodded, having a vague idea of who Peggy Carter was but not of what she went to Steve.

After some research you found out that she was an old flame of his, someone he couldn't marry and build a life with because he was frozen for decades. Upon seeing her many qualifications, and just how freaking brilliant she was, you knew one thing.

You may not be as smart as her, but you knew that you could never measure upto a woman that incredible. Someone Steve still visits after all these years. You were already afraid that he was out of your league but now you were sure of it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, "It's just that you used to talk to me all the time... and now it seems as if you're ignoring me. Is it because of something I did? Whatever it is I never meant to hurt you," he swore.

You sighed. "It's nothing you did, really. I just realized how incompatible we are. I hope you find the one you're looking for, someone who'll make you happy and give you the world. It just won't be me."

You didn't let him say anything closing your door instantly as you kept your tears at bay.

At the valentines party

"Cap," Tony said, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I thought you'd have her on your arm tonight. What happened?"

Referring to his assistant. He wanted to play cupid this once, since it was the season of love, he wanted to see his idiot friends happy. He was sure you both would be disgustingly smooching and all cute at the party. But not only had you both shown up separately, you seemed to be actively ignoring Steve.

"She uh... rejected me," he said, looking down into his glass of whiskey. It didn't do much for him but it helped him blend in.

"Ouch," Tony winced, "I was sure she would go for you. But I guess I have been wrong before," he shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She goes all heart eyes whenever you're around. But I guess that's nothing unique since that's just how most women act around you," he scoffed. "You should read all the love letters you got today. I was going through them, you have quite a passionate fanbase of people who want to... what was it..." he pretended to think hard about it. "Yes, 'ride your bicep', I don't understand the physics of how on earth that would work, but I am intrigued."

"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes as he always does when he's around the billionaire. "I don't really care about all of them... they don't know me. I only care about her and I don't know why she said no, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Whoa, you're accepting defeat so soon? Where's that I-can-do-this-all-day attitude?"

"This isn't a war, Tony. If she doesn't see me that way... then there isn't much I could do."

"Maybe she's just playing hard to get. There's absolutely no way to really know what goes on in womens heads, Rogers. They're so smart and sneaky... it's kinda scary actually."

"I don't think she'd play games..."

Tony had gotten distracted pretty quickly and left Steve alone to pout and only appreciate your beauty from afar. You had worn a pink dress with red hearts on it, and for some reason, you got more beautiful every time he looked at you.

"Hello."

He jerked when he heard the foreign voice, looking at the blonde woman next to him, with her hand out, he shook it just to be polite.

"I'm Crystal," she smiled, flashing her sparkly white teeth.

"I'm Steve."

"Of course I know who you are!" she laughed, "You're Captain America, everyone knows you," she playfully hot his bicep before squeezing it, "Oh my... you must work out a lot."

"Uh... yeah..." he nodded. He could never get used to how people perceived him so differently.

"There is something I need to know really bad," Crystal blinked as she looked up at him, "Do you wear underwear in those suits? They seem really tight, wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

"Oh, um... we just sort of..."

You had never looked at yourself as a jealous person. Maybe things were different when it came to Steve... he was a pretty special guy.

When you looked at him, talking to some girl, dancing with her, laughing and having fun with her, it was as if you were on fire from simmering rage, at the same time you could feel your heart breaking in a million pieces.

You knew it was wrong. You had no claim to him, he can do whatever he wants. If you said no to him then it makes perfect sense that he seeked out someone else.

You just had to get away for some fresh air, so you wouldn't abandon all class and pull the girls hair and drag her away from your Steve.

You yelped when you heard him call out your name.

Looking over your shoulder you saw him staring at you, his brows scrunched up, he looked so worried. But why?

"What're you doing here? You'll catch a cold, doll," he takes off his blazer, putting it over your shoulders and then groaning when he realised his slip up.

"Right, sorry, old habits die hard. I won't call you that again, I promise," he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

"No... I think it's kinda sweet. No ones ever had such an endearing petname for me. I do like it."

"Oh," he frowned, "it's just that you said you didn't."

Tony, of all the people in the whole universe, was right. There was no understanding women.

"I guess I lied..."

"Why?"

"Um..." You were at a loss of words and nervous. Steve wouldn't tolerate lies, and you didn't want him to hate you. "It was easier to do that then tell you the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"I do like you... a lot. But I don't want to live in someone else's shadow. And I just think the whole thing would end in a disaster..."

"What're you talking about, Y/N?"

"Peggy. Your first and only love. I can't measure upto her, not in my wildest dreams, there's no use trying."

"Why would you have to measure upto Peggy?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but couldn't really come up with an answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did have feelings for her, but that was a long time ago. I'm happy she lived her life, it just wasn't meant to be."

"So, you're not still in love with her?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I was."

"Well, what about Crystal? You were practically glued to her the entire evening!" you huffed as you stomped your foot. Mad at your own stupidity. You could've simply told him the truth and asked for a straight answer. "I have to warn you, she had was pretty crazy in the last season."

"Last season?"

"Mm-hm, the last season of her reality show, I've seen all eight seasons. Maybe they just amp up the drama, maybe she isn't actually crazy, I wouldn't know," you shrugged.

"Doll," he smirked, circling a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, "are you jealous?"

"I am not!" you gasped, looking away from his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I don't want anyone but you. Why would I? You're goddamn perfect. And... I want you to be my girl."

"I guess I don't really have a reason to say no now..." you murmured, your face still flustered as you played with the buttons on his shirt before he tilted your chin up to make you look at him, placing his lips over yours in the most tender of kisses.

"Got the job done, Tones... I'm pretty sure I saw him go after her, I have to say though, you look at Captain America, and you really don't expect him to be that awkward..." Crystal said as she sipped on her gin and tonic. "You owe me."

Tony only hummed, not too happy about being indebted to someone, but you both needed a necessary push in the right direction.

[ptergwen]

I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)

friends close, enemies closer

ik this is cherry BUT i had to

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness

a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)

-

you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.

you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.

the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.

peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.

bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.

this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.

you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.

that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.

“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”

god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.

“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.

about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.

“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”

here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.

you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”

he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.

“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”

of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…

you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.

“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.

he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.

you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”

your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”

he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?

“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”

although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.

would that be so terrible?

absolutely.

you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”

he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.

“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.

peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.

that’s a problem.

you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.

“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”

narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”

they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.

“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”

“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”

that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.

once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.

he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.

chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.

“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.

you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”

“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”

laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.

rivalry be damned.

“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.

“lead the way.”

[ericspinkhair]

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

[halstudandruz]

Research Purposes ~ Part 2

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happens when the only person in the world you didn’t want finding out does?

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Part one found here (NSFW, 18+)

A/N 2: Also thank you to @enchantedblackrose for the idea 😊

If you are not 18+ and are unable to read part 1 and want to back story just hit me up (:

“We’re so freaking late. There’s no way we’ll have time to stop for my car.” You rushed around Jay’s apartment, pouring coffee for both of you.

“And whose fault is that.” Jay looked at you accusingly.

“I was just trying to help the environment.” You shrugged, handing him his cup after checking the lid.

“You and I both know we wasted more water in there together than we would’ve showering on our own.” He retorted grabbing his badge and gun off the coffee table to secure them to his belt.

“Yeah okay so I wanted shower sex sue me.” You rolled your eyes shrugging your jacket on.

“I wasn’t the one complaining.” He smiled, taking a drink.

“We would’ve had more than enough time if you didn’t insist on cuddling this morning.” You pointed out, remembering how he pulled you back into his chest every time you tried to move out of bed a couple hours prior.

“You like shower sex. I like cuddling.” He teased handing you your purse.

“Maybe we can draft up an alternate schedule.” You joked.

“I do hear compromise is the key to a healthy relationship.” He replied.

“We gotta go if you don’t want to get pulled over for speeding.” You changed the subject reaching for the door knob, before being tugged back by your arm, turning in time for Jay’s lips to meet yours in a sweet, passionate kiss.

“To get us both through the day.” Jay winked reaching around you to open the door and usher you out.

This was the second time that week you and Jay would be showing up to work together. Nobody noticed it the first time, but your anxiety climbed at the thought of someone recognizing and approaching you about it. What would you say? You and Jay were only in it purely for the sex. Right? Regardless of that fact that you had stayed at his house almost every night the past couple weeks even without the promise of sex, or how your stuff was starting to accumulate at his house from the past few months. A few t-shirts mixed in with his, hair straightener resting on his bathroom organizer, makeup scattered about on the dresser. Friends with benefits, that’s all it was. Nothing more and you certainly were not gaining feelings for him. Absolutely not that was against the rules and you were not about to be some stereotypical fuck buddy turned feelings trope, but you were getting sloppy apparently. You agreed to enter through the front while Jay entered through the back. Skipping up the steps you threw a smile at Trudy offering her a good morning, but in return she stared you down, eyebrow raised as she rested against the desk.

“What?” You stopped in your tracks in front of her. But she stayed silent giving you a look, and you just knew she knew. She was Trudy Platt. She knew everything.

“You should tell him.” She whispered to you, and it’s not the first time she had said something of the sort recently.

“Tell who, what?” You continued to fake innocence as you had the times before.

“It’s going to end badly.” She pushed again.

“It already did end badly.” You reminded her before trudging upstairs feeling the heat of her stare still on your back. Everyone except Kim was already there, including Jay who had his feet kicked up on his desk looking through a file. You greeted everyone draping your coat over the back of your chair and falling into it.

The first hour ticked by slowly, and you found your eyes moving across the room to focus on Jay. Opened documents lay across your desk. He looked so relaxed, shoulders loose, breaths slow and even, head resting against his palm as he fought not to fall asleep. You knew he would rather be out chasing suspects, but deep down you were starting to register you were okay with paperwork days. It meant he was safe, and that thought scared you a little. The last time you had those same thoughts you were staring at a different man in the room. A man who sat not too far behind Jay, clicking his pen absentmindedly as he often did when he was bored.

“Ruz, I’ll break the damn pen.” Kevin grumbled, as he had many times before in response to the habit.

“Sorry.” Adam mumbled, setting the utensil onto his desk away from his fidgety hands.

You chuckled at the small exchange, experiencing the exact same one many times in the years you had been detailed in intelligence with the best people you could’ve ever asked to work with. That certainly didn’t mean it wasn’t complicated though, and you were the very obvious example of that. You watched Jay’s head bob catching himself before adjusting in order to keep himself awake. His eyes accidentally met yours, heart rate immediately increasing. He sent you a small smile as his eyes started to roam over your body. Looking for a distraction from the tedious work. You couldn’t scold him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been doing the same thing the past 10 minutes. Looking at his arms that were tight against his sleeves you wondered if the scratch marks you left on his biceps this morning would still be prevalent, or if the fading hickey from nights prior was still noticeable on his hip bone.

“I need coffee. Anyone else?” You asked trying to divert the obvious eye fucking your were giving each other. Everyone in the room raising their hands. You laughed taking notice of all the tired eyes who so obviously wanted to bash their heads off the desk already bored out of their minds, just waiting for a case to jump off.

“I’ll help.” Jay offered, voice gruff from barely speaking all morning. Together you poured and distributed everyone cups. Sitting back down into your chair when Jay was handing Kev his.

“You gonna shave that thing anytime soon? You usually can’t stand it past a week.” Kevin asked Jay, referring to his beard. They had always teased him whenever he claimed it grew in patchy compared to Adam and Kevin’s and it usually resulted in him having a clean shaven face the next shift. But it had grown in quite nicely this time, and he made sure to keep it presentable by trimming it as needed.

“No, it’s starting to grow on me. I’m keeping it for research anyway. Seems it can enhance far more than just my facial features.” Jay shrugged casually sitting back down atin his chair, and at his words you choked on your coffee spitting it all over your desk. Uncontrollable coughs tickling your throat.

“You good [Y/L/N]?” Hailey asked standing up to help you.

“Yeah..sorry. Just.. went down the wrong pipe. Didn’t expect it to be so.. hot.” You explained between coughs looking across the room to glare at Jay who wore a cocky smirk on his face, flipping through papers not daring to look up at you.

“You forget your ice?” Adam asked, knowing you had put a couple cubes of ice in your coffee every morning cooling it down so you could drink it faster.

“I must’ve. Kinda out of it today.” You shook your head taking napkins out of your drawer to try to clean up the mess you had made on your desk as well as your white shirt.

“I’ll get you some.” He started to walk towards the break room.

“It’s really okay I spit most of it out anyway.” You laughed.

“I’ll just get you a new cup.” He reasoned and you just thanked him not feeling like bickering with him about it. He had been going out of his way to do nice things for you recently. You assumed either so you wouldn’t spill the beans about him and Upton or because he felt bad.

“There’s no way this is coming out..” You grumbled dabbing at the tan stain forming on your shirt, “Do you happen to have a spare?” You asked, turning towards Hailey.

“I’m sorry I don’t. I used my spare the other day after that shooting and haven’t brought another extra.” Hailey apologized. You waved her off thanking her anyway.

“There’s one in my locker.” Jay offered, “You’ll probably just have to tuck it in.” You thought for a moment, it probably wouldn’t look like a big deal. Just a friend helping out a friend.

“Okay. Thanks.” You nodded getting up to head to the locker room where Jay followed. “I know where your locker is.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, but you don’t know my combination nor are you very good at opening dial locks. Hence why you have a keypad one on yours.” Jay pointed out, spinning his combination. He was right. You could never open dial locks.

“Do you analyze everything I do?” You crossed your arms annoyed at how well he always seemed to know you.

“You’re an interesting person babe.” He smiled handing you the shirt as he kissed your forehead.

“Watch yourself. You don’t know who’s hiding in here.” You lectured, “this is your fault by the way.”

“I know. Total win-win situation.” Jay laughed, smiling brightly.

“You’re gonna be the death of me Jay Halstead.” You groaned, a small smile on your lips.

“What a way to go though, huh?” He quipped, giving you a quick kiss.

“Get out.” You pushed his chest.

“What? No free peep show? I offered you my shirt and everything.” He acted offended.

“They’re gonna start getting suspicious if we are in here any longer go.” He huffed at your reply giving in and leaving as you turned around to switch shirts. Jay’s scent immediately overwhelmed you as you slipped his shirt on. Causing your body to relax in turn at the familiar fragrance. Jay was right, you had to tuck the shirt into your jeans, otherwise it could’ve been a dress thanks to your large height difference. Turning to walk out of the locker room, you were met with Adam holding a new cup of coffee out to you making you jump at the unexpected body in your path. “Thank you.” You giggled taking it from his hand to take a drink.

“Did you change?” He asked, eyeing the shirt you now wore.

“Oh yeah. I had white on and it was gonna stain so Jay offered me his shirt.” You explained, shifting on your feet at the uncomfortable conversation.

“Well I have one. It might fit you better.” He offered moving to walk towards his locker, but you put a hand to his chest stopping him.

“I’m good this one is perfectly fine.” You reassured him, Adam stared at you, breaking the tense silence with a long sigh, leaning against the side of the lockers.

“Listen we never got to talk about that night you came to my apartment. I just wanted to say I’m really sorry you-“ He began to apologize when Kevin peeked his head in the door.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt..” he looked between the two of you awkwardly, “but we just got a case.” Adam cleared his throat as you nodded,

“We can..finish this later.” You chewed on your lip pushing past him to grab your coat out of Kevin’s hand.

It was nearing 8 o’clock by the time Voight had given you guys permission to go home and get some sleep. Knowing you’d be returning bright and early in the morning to continue to case.

“What do you think about pizza tonight? I’ve been craving some Bartolis.” Jay asked walking down the stairs behind you.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You stopped turning to face him when you rounded the corner out of sight.

“Well I can just get pizza and I’ll stop for whatever else you want too.” He offered.

“I’m not talking about food, Jay.” You laughed, looking at the ground. Your mind had been racing since showing up with Jay this morning.

“Then..what are you talking about?” He asked, stepping closer towards you.

“I mean I don’t know I’ve been at your place almost every night the last couple weeks.” You whispered, hoping your voice wouldn’t carry to anyone nearby.

“Well we can go to your place. That’s fine.” He reasoned.

“No that’s not..” You sighed not able to find the words.

“Hey, just talk to me. What’s up.” He encouraged hands falling to your hips holding you gently.

“I’m just worried we’re starting to get careless. Showing up to work twice in one week together. One of these days we’re bound to get caught either coming in together or showing up on scene together. We don’t even know what this is. I don’t want to have to talk to Voight about it in the meantime.” You explained.

“We can be more careful. I promise. I just don’t want you to freak out about this.” He assured you tucking your hair behind your ear. “Can we just address how good you look in my shirt. I’m so glad you’re such a klutz..” Jay’s eyes roamed up and down your body.

“I am not a klutz! How did you expect me to react?” You crossed your arms, glaring at him as you did a few hours prior.

“Well is it not the truth? This thing is still on my face purely for your satisfaction.” He reminded you by trailing his lips down your neck, immediately summoning goosebumps from the raggedness tickling in the wake of his lips. He winked knowing his point was proven, moving up to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Sooo pizza?” He asked, pulling back, hopeful look on his face.

“Fine, but I’m not going in to get it.” You rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you towards his truck but when you rounded the corner your eyes connected with Adam’s who stood near the door, eyes wide between you two as Jay let his arm fall to his side, your feet rooted to the floor.

“I forgot my wallet in my locker.” Adam explained stammering over his words.

“Well don’t let us keep you. See you tomorrow brother.” Jay remained calm grabbing your arm to pull you out. Patting Adam on the shoulder when you passed.

“Shit!” You cursed when you reached Jay’s truck.

“What?” He questioned and you looked at him dumbfounded.

“You’re fucking kidding me right?” You scoffed.

“He’s not gonna tell Voight. For starters it’s Adam. Plus we know about him and Hailey. He can’t.” He shrugged.

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” You yelled.

“You just said that’s what you were worried about.” Jay reminded you, trying to catch up. “Babe.” He urged when you didn’t answer him.

“You don’t get it Jay!” You shook your head, lump forming in your throat at the anxiety the situation presented.

“No, you’re right I don’t. I’m sorry. Help me understand.” He grabbed a hold of your hand trying to get you to face him.

“Not right now.” You chewed your lip feeling a few tears fall down your cheeks, quickly swiping them away before they were seen, but you knew Jay would know regardless. You were tired, hungry, and now slightly panicking at the thought of having to address the entire situation. His hand squeezed yours tighter before starting his truck putting it in drive.

All Tag List:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda

[restapesta]

gossip never ends

Mickey Milkovich simply just showed up one day at the Old Army, tattoos on his knuckles and a scowl on his face. Lola couldn't help but be intrigued -- nobody lasts here long enough to pique her interest, but there was something special about this guy. The gossip spreads like wildfire, but Mickey's something else altogether -- it's just a matter of time before Lola and her friends figured out why.

OR: How Mickey's coworkers found out about who Mickey really was back in season 10 -- this is more of an outlook on Mickey and his feelings throughout season 10 and how it reflected on his job and altogether his demeanor.

This is based on a prompt by @whatwouldmickeydo which was also even more explored by one of my favorite Gallavich accounts on Tumblr @ianandmickeygallavich -- so, I simply just worked through what they had already created. I hope they don't mind I used their prompt and this is dedicated to both of them! Enjoy!

words: 5.3k

The gossip began almost the exact moment Mickey was introduced to the three workers by the manager.

The Old Army staff was not a stranger to new workers coming and going, some people sticking around longer, working for a couple of months without stop, maybe even sticking around for a full-time position; some just passing through while on trial-basis, failing to meet the manager's demands and simply moving on to find better or more fitting employment -- but the sight of Mickey Milkovich was definitely not something, Lola thought, anybody, not just the curious employees, was used to.

Lola fell into the group of people who had been working at the store for ages now, starting years ago and still sticking around now, subsequently being present for all the biggest changes made to and within the popular store. She saw the interior change, the managers shift, the employees getting hired and fired -- she saw it all. It couldn't be said for many people. Honestly, only three members of the Old Army staff had actually been working full-time here, while everybody else was just a passing face.

She was so used to seeing new faces that it simply did not phase her anymore -- Lola had her own stable position in the store; she had her colleagues which she got along with, and she never paid much attention to the newbies once they came into the store. She knew it was almost always just for a short while, basically until they made a mistake while working and got politely declined for the position, so she usually just remained civil, not engaging in much mingling or bonding -- it wouldn't last anyway.

The staff change happened way too often, especially with security. The store management had no idea how to pick the right person for the job -- they either always chose the gangly, skinny types; the ones who couldn't defend others or themselves from a burglar if their life depended on it, or they chose the fatties who had a donut too many during their break and couldn't chase ten feet after the culprit.

Still, this guy -- this new, weirdly interesting guy -- seemed promising.

Lola had no idea where they managed to find him -- he was kinda hot, and definitely in really good shape with thighs and calves that could probably kill if they wanted to. He seemed crude and unapproachable, and the brooding, mysterious attitude definitely didn't quench anybody's curiosity as to where the hell he came from and how the hell they managed to find him of all the people in the world. A scowl was constantly etched on the newcomer's face -- not just when he was being introduced to the staff by the manager, as Lola thought would be the case -- but literally at every single given moment of the workday.

There were only rare moments Lola and the others saw him smile -- usually every single one of those moments being when he was texting someone during his break, or when he was coming back from having lunch with someone at the food court. Not that anyone would dare ask who, although they definitely speculated.

Mickey was the type of guy Lola was interested in making friends with. She approached him once during their shared shift -- usually, she wouldn't even bother, seeing how these guards come and go, but this one really piqued her interest -- trying to figure out who he was, where he came from, what he was doing here. Was he single? She needed to know for her lady friend considering how he was most definitely a sight for sore eyes.

It came as somewhat a surprise when he gave off clipped answers to her questions, most of them not even answering.

"Did you always work security?" She'd ask with a bright smile.

"You could say that."

Silence.

"How long are you planning on staying with us?" Trial-basis or undefined employment? Lola wondered silently.

"Until Larry finds me a better job."

Silence.

"Who?"

Silence. And then a quick, "Never mind."

Lola had officially given up on her efforts to befriend and find out more about the man once Mickey gave her a sharp, pointed stare after she pointed out he didn't have a ring on his finger, hoping he would reveal his relationship status to her.

She most certainly wasn't that lucky, and she almost shat her pants at the murderous expression on his face. She didn't ask again.

The others tried to pry information out of Mickey too, but they certainly lacked the subtlety Lola had. She honestly couldn't say she was the most discreet person in the world, but she was in the Old Army, considering how she found herself working with the two most non-discreet people in the world. Lola was upfront too -- let's not get that wrong.

But at least she didn't outright ask him if he was in a gang like Jeremy did.

"I wanted to know if the tattoos were gang symbols! They freaked me out!" The skinny twenty-year-old replied when the other workers gaped at him with wide eyes.

Jenna shook her head. "Dude, you can't just ask a guy if he was in a gang."

He wouldn't reveal his age, let alone his gang status if he had one, Lola scolded Jeremy mentally. The guy was as open as a seashell -- you could try and pry it open to see if it had a pearl inside, but you'll most likely fail and, to be honest, probably get pinched in the process, if not careful. It was perhaps best not to even try or, if you did, to proceed with extreme caution. A bunch of seashells didn't even have pearls in them anyway, so it'd all be useless in the end.

It only took a week for the staff to find out how Mickey managed to find himself here at Old Army out of all the possible places in the world. It was a shock, to say the least.

One morning, the revelation came when Larry Seaver showed up to the store, dressed in a nice suit and tie, wearing his casual, perky smile. He asked for the manager and had greeted Mickey immediately once he laid eyes on the man. Larry approached him as Jeremy went to get the manager, placing a firm hand on Mickey's shoulder, smiling widely at him.

Lola and Jenna weren't snooping, but they did manage to overhear Larry asking Mickey if he enjoyed working here; if everything was going well; if he was staying out of trouble -- a question that certainly didn't help stop the gossip -- and if he settled in home nicely.

Mickey responded to most of his questions with short, non-descriptive answers, but not with any malice or disdain. He answered them as if he had to, putting an emphasis on the "I'm not getting into any trouble, don't worry Mr. Cheery," making Lola wonder why the question even needed to be posed.

When the manager finally showed up, greeting the man happily, Larry followed him to his office, leaving the others to get back to the customers -- and some to get back to stopping crime. It was only when Larry Seaver left that Jenna shouted, "Oh my God, he's a parole officer!" at the other two workers while drinking coffee in the break room.

"He's a what?" Jeremy asked, slightly confused.

"A parole officer! I heard him talking to the manager about Mickey and how he's settling in. Mickey is a parolee!"

"Jesus Christ, I knew it! And you told me I shouldn't be scared." Jeremy answered with a sullen look, exaggerating a shudder.

Lola quirked an eyebrow at her friend. "Were you eavesdropping?" She was more amused than surprised if she was honest.

Jenna shook her head at Lola in exasperation. "So not the point. Lola, the guy went to prison!"

"We should all just quit now," Jeremy added.

"Come on, you big baby. The guy keeps to himself. You have literally nothing to be scared of." Lola was rolling her eyes at the man, slightly annoyed at the comments.

It didn't surprise her Mickey was here on parole -- it didn't surprise her he was in prison at all. He seemed like the type, not just because of his sullen look and crude knuckle tattoos. It also had a lot to do with the way he carried himself as if the entire world was against him and he needed to protect himself from the inevitable upcoming battle. It was probably why he never spoke to anybody, why he never had coffee with them, and why he seemed to avoid human contact at all possible times. It was also, now, very much obvious why he was so good at guarding the store -- it takes a criminal to catch a criminal, she guessed.

Honestly, it all just made him more interesting.

"I kind of think it's hot," Jenna admitted sheepishly.

Jeremy's eyes bulged out. "You're kidding me."

She shook her head, smiling like a teenage girl. "He's dark, brooding, mysterious. And he's got a really nice ass."

Lola laughed at her friend and at Jeremy's horrified expression. "You should go flirt with him. Maybe you'll be able to figure out if he's single or not." She was only partly joking. Jenna probably didn't need a repeat of what Lola had gone through.

She sighed sadly. "A guy like that is not single."

"Yeah, sure. An ex-con definitely isn't single and is probably in an extremely committed relationship with somebody who loves him for who he is. And that same ex-con guy totally loves somebody back with his whole, entire heart." Jeremy quipped sarcastically and Jenna pinched his bicep in response.

"Love is love, asshole. People murder for love."

Jeremy nodded in response. "Exactly. That's probably why he was in prison."

Jenna rolled her eyes. "You know what? Unlike Jeremy here, I'm not a pussy. I'm gonna go talk to him."

Lola's eyes widened in response and she smiled widely. If anyone would take the bullet for the team, it'd be Jenna. "You go, girl! Get him. Just make sure to be subtle about it"

Jeremy and Lola watched as Jenna went up to Mickey who was standing next to the Old Army store entrance, looking as bored and uninterested as ever. When he saw Jenna approaching, he grimaced, obviously preparing himself for the confrontation.

Jeremy and Lola locked eyes as Jenna began to audibly flirt with Mickey. They couldn't hear everything she was saying from where they were eavesdropping but they didn't hear Mickey even speak. Based on the disappointed look on Jenna's face when she walked into the break room again, they didn't think it went that well.

"So?" Lola inquired hopefully.

Jenna shook her head. "Completely uninterested. I even made my boobs look bigger in this shirt. Didn't work, obviously."

"What'd he say?" Lola probed deeper.

"Well, I asked where he lived, where he used to work, if he was settling in nicely -- and he just kind of hummed."

"Hummed?"

"He barely even answered the questions."

"Maybe he's gay and in a committed relationship with a dude," Jeremy added sarcastically, once again. "Maybe I should go up and flirt with him instead. See if it works for me."

Jenna rolled her eyes at Jeremy's sarcasm. "You're too big of a pussy to do it. Plus he's probably not gay."

Jeremy didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he just smiled. "Whatever you say, Jenny. Oh, by the way -- I totally am."

Mickey never spent his break with the others. In fact, he was either sitting outside the store, drinking Pinkberry and messing around with his phone, or he was at the food court, presumably meeting somebody for lunch. Lola was dying to know who, but she never dared to ask or to check, although it would have been so easy.

The curiosity extended out of the workplace as well -- Jenna, Lola, and Jeremy had a group chat. It was, at first, formed as a work chat, purely for announcements and work hours, but as time passed -- and as the employees and employers changed -- it evolved into something much more. Now, it was their main gossiping media.

 --- old army besties ---

LOLA (9:56 PM): I can't find him anywhere on social media.

JEREMY (9:58 PM): You're obsessed.

LOLA (9:58 PM): Fuck off, Jeremy.

JENNA (10:03 PM): There are a bunch of articles about him escaping prison!!!!!!!!!

LOLA (10:04 PM): NO SHIT

LOLA (10:04 PM): LINK NOW

LOLA (10:04 PM): !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JENNA (10:06 PM): https://images.app.goo.gl/rzDzCogf1H84QD78A

JENNA (10:06 PM): HEHAGDJADGAIGDAJFGAJFGAJFGA

LOLA (10:08 PM): oh my god

JENNA (10:08 PM): I KNOW

JEREMY (10:07 PM): ya'll are crazy

JENNA (10:08 PM): Is it bad it just makes me even more attracted to him??????

JEREMY (10:09 PM): yes.

LOLA (10:09 PM): NO!

LOLA (10:10 PM): Jenna, same.

JEREMY (10:11 PM): I have a psych ward to recommend you to. Hold up.

JENNA (10:11 PM): Jeremy, stfu

*JEREMY has left the chat*

LOLA (10:12 PM): You wanna add him back in or should I?

JENNA (10:12 PM): Neither.

JENNA (10:12 PM): Let him suffer.

 The gossiping continued for a while. It didn't honestly seem like it would stop at all, and nobody really seemed inclined to put an end to the wildfire gossip that spread through the entire Old Army staff. Not that anyone cared much, either, if they were being completely honest.

One day, though, the Mickey who was always grumpy and never without a scowl seemed particularly furious.

He spoke to no one, he didn't check his phone at all, which was a rare occurrence and almost never happened -- he was usually glued to the thing, always texting someone -- and he basically looked like he was ready to kill the next person who dared steal something from the store.

"Anyone wanna ask what crawled up his ass and died?" Jenna asked lowly, observing Mickey from where she and Lola stood behind the cash register. Jeremy hung around in the back, angry that they still hadn't added him back to the group chat.

Lola simply grimaced. "I guess we've been dealing with happy Mickey all this time."

Jeremy pretended not to pay much attention to them, very much bitter. He just muttered, as a side note, loud enough to get even Mickey's attention, "Yo, I guess they found who killed that parole officer."

That piqued Lola's interest. The murder was all over the news the day before -- a parole officer named Paula had been thrown out the window -- and Lola didn't expect them to have found the killer so soon.

"Already?" She wondered, out loud.

"Who is it?" Jenna asked.

"Some ex of hers -- Shelly, I think. They arrested her yesterday."

Lola released a sigh. "That's some good news. Now she can't hurt anybody else." She mentally applauded the police for the good and quick work.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mickey was listening in to their conversation. She could have sworn she heard him snort when she muttered the last part, the one about it being good news. She saw an opening, and when Lola began to open her mouth and try and include him in the conversation, he had already turned around and left to stand back at his regular spot, expression sullen, pretending as if he never even cared to listen in after all.

Mickey was gone all of a sudden one day -- as the manager had told them briefly, on paid leave. He didn't reveal why or when he'd be coming back, only saying how Mickey had something important come up, and that he'd eventually be back. He didn't seem to be aggravated while talking about Mickey, so Lola guessed he didn't get fired, nor that he was being tested again for his position -- he had honestly been doing great. Better than the ones before him, at least.

Lola was actually somewhat shocked. She was also slightly disappointed he didn't tell her.

Mickey had actually started opening up a little -- not much (when she said little she meant very little) -- but he was finally communicating with them during their shift together, something he most certainly hadn't even tried to do, no matter how hard they tried to push. He also seemed happier, coming in one morning looking the happiest Lola had ever seen him.

It was the first day Mickey made actual conversation with her -- about the ugly clothes in the store, nevertheless -- and she genuinely was starting to like him.

"Maybe he likes you," Jenna told her after noticing them talking.

Lola blushed. "Probably not."

Jeremy snorted and both women turned towards him. "He's probably more attracted to me than you." He muttered absentmindedly while scrolling through his phone.

"Still sticking to the gay theory?" Jenna asked pointedly.

"I may not be dark, brooding, and mysterious, but my gaydar is on point. At first, I was skeptical, but he rocks that pink pastel shirt a little too well." He said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Jenna and Lola shared a look before both rolling their eyes.

"Let's hope he asks you out." Jenna finished and Lola blushed even more. Stupid crush. Jeremy snorted.

She was a little disappointed he was gone but his step-in was a cute guy and the gossip between her, Jeremy, and Jenna was endless -- Jenna and Lola came up with different theories as to where he was which all ranged from family emergencies to crazy prison breaks -- Jeremy would simply roll their eyes at them whenever a new theory came up.

When Mickey came back a couple of days later, it seemed as if he had a spring in his step. For the first time in all the time Lola had known him, instead of a scowl, there was a smile present on his face.

"Holy shit, he's smiling." Jenna pointed out incredulously, and Lola simply nodded shell-shocked. He had a beautiful smile.

It was even weirder when he greeted them when he walked into the store, uttering a simple, "Hey" which neither woman expected.

"So, that's happy Mickey," Lola said under her breath. "Good to know."

The sudden chirpiness didn't disappear throughout his entire shift and Lola began to wonder what type of vacation he had gone on to be this happy. She needed to ask him -- if it could take the stick out of his ass, then it could definitely make her feel like she was in heaven.

The answer came shortly after.

"He's got a ring on his finger."

"What?" Lola and Jenna exclaimed simultaneously, looking at Jeremy like he was crazy.

"The hell are you talking about?" Jenna asked, glancing between Jeremy and Mickey, inconspicuously trying to catch a glimpse of Mickey's hand.

"He's married, guys. He probably got married while he was away. There is a golden band on his ring finger."

Lola and Jenna were surprised they missed it. The ring shone brightly on his left hand, reflecting the shitty lighting of the Old Army store. It looked beautiful and, somehow, it made him look complete. She didn't even realize something was missing until it was there, staring straight at them. That's what the wedding ring seemed like -- a piece of Mickey they were all simply missing. Something that let them know that there was somebody in his life, a single person, who had his heart -- a person who managed to pry open the shell and find the pearl. Perhaps the process was painless; perhaps it wasn't -- Lola supposed there were only two people in the universe who truly knew the answer to that question.

"Well, I didn't see that coming."

Lola chuckled, letting the genuine happiness she felt for him consume her. "Me either."

The next time she passed him, she smiled at the ring widely. "Congratulations! I see the ring." She pointed at his hand.

Mickey smiled softly, gazing at it with a look in his eye Lola could only describe as love. "Yeah, thanks."He seemed a little uncomfortable, so Lola refrained from asking about his wife, and if he had any pictures to show her. She was learning new things about this man every day. The woman who tied him down must have been patient, but also extremely lucky.

"Ugh, I wish he was single," Jenna muttered again later on in the day, gazing longingly at Mickey's ass. "That butt makes the whole ex-con, escaping prison thing worth it."

Lola laughed at her friend, agreeing silently.

It was nearing the end of their shift, and the four people had changed out of their uniforms, getting rid of the ugly pastel pink color, exchanging it with something that was actually fashionable -- Mickey had an especially good fashion sense, in Lola's opinion (he could rock ripped jeans). Mickey had still been in the staff changing room when Lola noticed a guy hanging around the store. A tall, extremely hot redheaded guy, with one of the best bodies she'd seen on a man in a while.

She shook Jenna's arm so she could point out the guy to her, aware that Jenna deserved to gaze at a man this good-looking. He was wearing a tight-fitting black shirt along with skinny jeans that accentuated all of his muscles, from the ones in his arms to his leg ones -- he was ripped, and Lola could only assume there were chiseled abs hiding underneath the shirt. He was drop-dead gorgeous.

Jenna turned around to see what the fuss was about, but her mouth fell open when her eyes landed in the ginger.

"Oh my God, I think just came."

"Me too," Lola admitted. She was genuinely concerned for her wellbeing. "I think we need to get laid."

"Definitely." Jenna's eyes were glued to the man. His hair was perfect too -- slicked back, and just... it was a sort of, ' you simply had to see it to believe it' type of situation. He was beautiful. "Man, how the fuck does God create these men?"

Jenna didn't tear her eyes away. "He must be either really bad in bed or a total douchebag. There's no way he's that hot and nice too."

They suddenly heard Mickey's voice behind them. "Trust me, he's neither."

Lola and Jenna jumped in surprise, but she didn't even have a moment to think about what Mickey said. She was still looking at the ginger, but his green eyes were locked on somebody else though, and he didn't even seem to notice the two women gaping openly at him.

When Lola turned to follow his gaze she was surprised to see it land on Mickey.

"Oh my dear Lord, he's totally eye-fucking Mickey!" She whisper-shouted at Jenna, Mickey being far away not to hear her. Jenna whipped her head around towards where Mickey stood, seemingly unaware.

"Oh my God, he totally is!"

Mickey noticed them staring. He raised an eyebrow at the two women and then as if on a whim, approached them. "You need anything?" He asked, seemingly uncomfortable, but he still paid no attention to the fact a guy was blatantly letting it show on his face that he was imagining all of the things he could probably be doing to Mickey, right now. The redhead had the biggest case of bed-eyes she'd seen in a while.

Lola blinked herself out of her daze. "Um, no. Uh, we just-- we, uh--" She was at a loss for words and Jenna didn't seem to even think about helping.

"Ugh, God." They suddenly heard Jeremy exclaim. All eyes turned to him. "There's a really hot guy outside the store, and he's staring at you." He made a gesture as if saying, 'See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?'. "That's what they're trying to say."

Mickey turned to look forward outside and when his gaze fell on the guy -- the guy he had most certainly already noticed -- his face lit up even more, and his lip curled into a smirk. He turned towards Jeremy and nodded at him. "Glad to see you toughening up."

Jeremy smiled at Mickey as if they were sharing an inside joke, and both Lola and Jenna had no idea what it was. They shared a disbelieving look. "Learned from the best, man," Jeremy replied as they fist-bumped and Lola knew her and Jenna's eyes had to be unnaturally wide.

"So um, so you know the guy outside? He's totally checking you out." Jenna nodded at the hot guy who was still watching them -- watching Mickey, specifically. Lola guessed he was waiting for him, for whatever reason. She guessed hot guys stuck together. If he wasn't a ginger, Lola would have assumed they were brothers and that the good looks simply ran in the gene pool. Lola watched as Mickey locked eyes with the man and smiled. The guy raised his eyebrows in question and Mickey just kept the grin on his face.

"That's Ian, my husband."

Shock couldn't even begin to describe what Lola was currently feeling. If somebody had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water down her back, she would have probably been less surprised. As she was contemplating everything she knew and had been learning about Mickey, the man in question waved towards Ian to join them. Ian made his way inside and Lola could lie and say she didn't swoon.

"Hi." He greeted sheepishly with a smile, previously observing the commotion.

Mickey seemed unnaturally relaxed as he stood close to Ian, wrapping a hand behind his back subconsciously. Lola wondered who the man in front of her was -- it most certainly wasn't the grump Lola had been working with all this time.

"Ian, meet Lola, Jenna, and Jeremy."

Ian smiled politely at all three of them, leaving Lola in a daze -- God, he was gorgeous. She was just about to reply when he nodded at Jeremy specifically. "Sup, Jeremy. Heard a lot about you."

Jeremy smiled back at Ian. "Same, dude. Your husband just can't seem to shut up about you."

Ian smirked, and then turned to look at Mickey, "Is that so?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Fuck you both. I got married. What am I supposed to do? Just shut up about it? Hell no."

Ian laughed and draped an arm around Mickey's shoulder. "Don't worry, baby. I don't mind."

Ian and Mickey shared a quick look, and Lola wondered if she would ever find a person who would look at her the way these two men looked at each other. She suddenly felt bad for thinking Mickey was straight -- everything about this simple interaction screamed gay.

"We should head home, I know you've been waiting for ages outside."

Ian nodded. "Yeah okay, let's go." He then smiled at the three people in front of them widely. "It was nice meeting you guys."

Jeremy was the only one capable of responding. "You too."

"See ya'," Mickey muttered lamely as a goodbye and the couple was out of the store in the blink of an eye, arms wrapped around each other, talking quietly, their expressions pure happiness.

Lola and Jenna turned around to stare at their friend.

"What the fuck was that?" Lola asked, incredulous.

The traitor in front of them shrugged. "What? While you guys were coming up with conspiracies and weird theories, I actually talked to the guy. He's pretty cool. He was raised and lives on the Southside where he met Ian. He first spent some time in juvie. Got shot twice. Went to prison, escaped from prison, went to Mexico, worked for a cartel, rolled on said cartel be with Ian. They were in prison together and they decided to get married when they got out. He's actually been giving me tips to boost my street cred. We've been working on that shit for some time now."

Lola shook her head in thought. "When did you guys become so close?"

Jeremy snorted. "When you decided not 5o add me back to the group chat, bitches." He smirked. "Revenge is a dish best served cold." As an afterthought, he added, "I'm not dark and brooding, but I guess I can add mysterious to my list of charms."

Lola and Jenna watched him as he turned around.

"Is it just me or did he suddenly get hot?"

Lola sighed loudly. "I think we've been tricked."

Jenna groaned, suddenly. "I can't believe it. Two men that hot -- and they end up with each other. Like, what the fuck? Why can't there be one for me?"

Lola laughed, but, as always, silently agreed.

Everybody lost their jobs when the pandemic hit, and when the Old Army finally went back into business, Mickey Milkovich wasn't there. The gossip moved on to different topics and different employees -- the hot security guard was nothing but a distant memory.

The next time Lola saw them was years later. She was much older, much more experienced, and much more in love. She had met somebody, had fallen deep, and it had changed her life for the better.

Love was an interesting thing.

Mickey was standing at the corner of a street. The sun was shining brightly above him, and Lola realized he still looked as beautiful as ever -- his face was much more relaxed though as if the walls he had spent years putting up were suddenly all down, letting his pearl shine through, and glint in the sun. He was waiting for somebody outside of a store, and somehow, Lola knew it was his husband.

She couldn't remember his name, but she could never forget the look.

So many years had passed, and Lola had gone through so many relationships -- but the look was what always had her looking for more, never settling for anything short of what she knew she could have. What they showed her she could have.

Once she found someone who looked at her the way Ian -- Lola would only remember his name sometime later in the day -- looked at Mickey, and somebody she would look at the way Mickey looked at Ian -- that was when she'd know she had found the one.

Ian exited the store, much to Lola's expectation, his red hair, slightly grown out, fiery red in the Sun. The boy holding his hand was smiling widely, and the smile only grew once he saw Mickey.

The boy dropped Ian's hand and ran towards -- Lola simply knew -- his father, jumping into his arms. Mickey picked the small boy up effortlessly -- he was no older than five -- laughing along with him as the boy dove into, what Lola presumed, a story.

Ian and Mickey shared a look, so akin to the one they had shared that day, years ago, in the store, filled with so much love, adoration and happiness before focusing their gazes on their child. It wasn't just between them anymore -- the love they had was now for the little boy as well, nurturing and taking care of him, allowing him to bask in it. They probably didn't even realize they were doing it.

Lola felt tears in her eyes.

She had once searched for the look.

Now, she hoped she would one day be able to share this look with her own husband and her own child.

Lola patted her swollen belly.

One day.

She watched as the two men and boy pulled away, still listening to the story the boy was telling. Lola pulled her phone out as she watched their retreating forms.

Lola opened the group chat, typing excitedly.

 --- old army besties ---

LOLA (12:33 PM): You'll never guess who I just saw.

 She was thankful for many things Mickey Milkovich showed her, but the one thing she was grateful for the most was that thanks to him, the gossip never ended.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

In the cloak of the night

Summary: A night on which your friend ditched you, turned out to be the most eventful night you maybe had in your life. All thanks to the tall and handsome stranger you met and who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Not even when you were waiting for the bus to take both of you to your place...

Pairing: Syverson / F!Reader

Wordcount: 2.586

Warnings: alcohol, smut. exhibtionism, dirty talk

A/N: With a two day delay it’s here. Enjoy *winks*

Taglist in reblog. Join my Taglist here

By now you were pretty sure your friend wouldn’t be joining you in the pub. It was Saturday, you were wearing a way too short skirt and all you wanted to do was get drunk with your best friend on the day you would have gotten married.

That was if you hadn’t found out your ex fiance had another fiance in another part of town. The things you discovered ever since you broke the engagement could be straight out of a novel.

That was now six months ago. 

Sighing, you leaned with your head on your hand ordering yourself another Gin Tonic. That really was typical. She kept nagging you about to go out more, to make some effort and then she stood you up.

Rolling your eyes you decided to stay for the next drink and then make your way home. If you were quick, you could still catch another rerun of Charmed on tv. 

Laughter from the other side of the pub made you turn your head to find out where it was coming from. A group of men in camouflage was sitting at the biggest table of the bar. You knew that a bunch of army people had been back from wherever they had been for the last few months, but you didn’t know it had been that many. 

A pair of blue eyes meet yours out of the group of men. He had very short dark hair, a wild scruff in his face hiding most of his face from view. For what felt like minutes he looked at you, his eyes not leaving yours until you both snapped out of it, him because somebody wanted something and you because another glass of gin tonic was set down in front of you.

For the next half hour, you casually looked over your shoulder, to steal another gaze but he was nowhere to be seen. You huffed. Story of your life. 

You weren’t a supermodel, but you were happy with how you looked. Sure you could work out more, your mother kept saying that you never would find a man again if you didn’t put a bit more effort in how you looked, yet as long as you were happy, you wouldn’t give a damn.

“Excuse me?” Someone asked beside you. Already sighing, you turned around only to find the man from earlier staring down at you. If his eyes were what caught your attention at first, the second was certainly his stature. He was huge. His biceps were probably bigger than your head. A little grin sneaked to his face when you didn’t say anything.

“Sorry.” You shyly said, probably blushing. He genuinely smiled at you, his face softening.

“I was wondering if I could invite you for a drink?” He asked.

“Aren’t you busy catching up with your guys?” You asked teasingly.

“Nah. I’ve seen those fuckers every day for 5 months.” He laughed, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head.

“Blink once if you need someone to save you.” You leaned in and whispered. He looked at you surprised and you could see a fleck of brown in his left eye. He winked once at you, making you laugh, before he sat down on the seat next to you.

“What can I get ya?” He asked, already waving to the waiter.

“Nothing yet.” You pointed to your still half full glass.

“Well then, I’d like a beer and some mozzarella sticks.” He said.

He told you his name was Sy and he was an army captain just back from a 5 month stay in Iraq. He’d be home for three months before he had to go back for another 5 months before he was done for good.

“Isn’t that hard?” You asked.

“You get used to it.” He shrugged. The longer you talked the more both of you had turned towards another.

“It’s not like I have much to come back here to anyway. I have my dog and my mom.”

“No friends?” You asked. He shook his head.

“Not really. I never invested time in friends because I’m not around much.”

“That sounds lonely. What about girlfriends?” You sucked your bottom lip in. He looked at you for a while, his eyes not leaving yours.

“No girlfriends. I mean there was this woman I loved but…” He shook his head looking away from you. You reached for his arm and waited until he looked at you.

“I get it. Let’s not talk about it,” you said quietly. He nodded at you and you dared to steal one of his mozzarella sticks.

“Didn’t take you for a thief.” He chuckled.

“You’ve known me for an hour, Captain. You haven’t even scratched the surface on who I am.” You winked, eating the mozzarella stick.

An hour later you found yourself in his arms as you danced along to the band that was performing on stage. You were standing with your back against his chest, his arms around your waist. He was so tall, his head didn’t even have to rest on top of yours. The fact that he was so much bigger than you was making you all kinds of tingly.

His fingers brushed over the exposed skin of your stomach. You could feel his hard muscles on your back. He was exactly what you needed. A man who you knew you would have no future with because he would leave in a matter of time. That didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun. You never had a one night stand in your life but….

Turning in his arms you looked up at him before you could talk yourself out of it and grinned up at him.

“Come down here.” You said, and when he leaned down you kissed him, catching him by surprise. He groaned against your lips, as his arms pulled you closer, his tongue brushing over your lips, deepening the kiss. Grasping the fabric of his shirt you clang to him. One of his hands on your back sneaking under your shirt, caressing your skin. He tasted of beer and something unique you were growing addicted to.

The band finished their song, the crowd around you applauding.

“You wanna get out of here?” You asked against his lips. He nodded, before he kissed you again, taking your hand and going back to the bar where you left your stuff.

The very short way to the bus stop a little down the street took way longer than anticipated. Which could have to do with the fact that Sy couldn’t keep his hands off of you. His lips seemed to be glued to your neck and you were pretty sure you would end up with a hickey. Which was kinda hot. 

When you came to a stop at the bus station and studied the plan, you sighed.

“Next bus will be here in 30 minutes,” you said. His arms sneaked around your waist, his chest pressed against your back and you could feel just how hard he was. Never in your life had you been this horny. For anyone really.

“I can’t wait that long,” he whispered against your ear as he leaned down, making you shiver.

“I think you can, big boy. It’s not like you can fuck me here out in the open.” You chuckled.

“And why is that?” He asked, his big hands running down your sides, resting on your thighs as you leaned into him.

“Because this is an open street and my bed is way more comfortable…” you argued, his lips kissing up your neck.

“My lap is very comfortable,” he whispered.

“I don’t have condoms…” You tilted your head, giving him more space.

“I have some…” He sucked on your earlobe, making you moan.

“Always prepared, Captain?” You teased.

“Better safe than sorry.” He grinned.

Where you really about to let a man you had met only hours before fuck you at a bus station?

“I promise I’ll make you cum on my tongue for the rest of the night…” He whispered against your ear, as one of his hands ran up your thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 9 months…” you whimpered when you felt his hand between your legs.

“Try a year.” You let your head fall back against his shoulder.

“Fuck….” You closed your eyes. Your panties were soaked. Looking around the empty and dark street, the only light coming from the streetlamp next to the bus station, you decided to give in. He was right, you couldn’t wait until the bus was here. 

Turning in his arms you ran your hands up his back to his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him hard. He groaned against your lips and you opened your mouth for him as he picked you up and carried you to a bench where he sat down with you straddling him, his lips still on yours. 

“Are we really doing this?” You asked, moaning when his hands landed on your ass under your skirt.

“We better, otherwise I gotta somehow take care of this boner.” He grinned, making you laugh. You kissed him again, your hands holding on to his shirt, slowly running down his chest until you  felt the outline of his cock through his pants, making him hiss. 

“I always thought only pornstars have cocks like that.” You chuckled.

“A Veteran as a porn star?” He asked, his eyebrow raised, as if he was thinking about it. One of his hands opened the buttons of the blouse you were wearing, exposing your lacy black bra.

“You’ll be a rich guy. Can I be your manager?” You joked, biting your lip when both of his hands massaged your boobs, his fingers harshly pulling the lace down, to expose your nipples to him. 

“What do you want as payment?” He grinned, leaning down and sucked on one of your nipples, his eyes looking up at you. You felt his teeth pulling it making you whine, your hands flying up to hold onto his neck, your hips rolling on top of him, making him growl.

“Can we talk about that after you make me cum?” You whispered. The only answer you got was his other hand pulling at your other nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

“Sy... “ You moaned. He released your nipple with a plop, making you breathe in deep as he leaned back at the bench, looking at you with hungry eyes as his hand pulled out a condom out of his pants pocket. You bit your lip, casually looking around to make sure that there wasn’t anyone around.

“We could stop…” he said. All you did was take his hand, bringing it between your legs.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet, Captain. Any second thoughts?” You asked. He looked up at you, thinking, before you felt his fingers rubbing over your soaked panties.

“When we’re at your place…” He said quietly, pulling your panties to the side, as you opened his belt.

“I’m gonna fuck you on every flat surface that I can find.” You felt his finger exploring your pussy, making you breathe deeply to stop yourself from moaning as you opened the fly of his pants, your hand sneaking inside, not even surprised to find that he wasn’t wearing underwear. He hissed, when he felt your hand pull his cock out.

“I’m gonna fuck you, then I’m gonna let you nap and then you’re gonna wake up with my head buried between your thighs, eating you out ‘cause….” Two of his fingers pushed into you now, making you moan quietly. 

You began to pump his cock, honestly wondering how it would fit inside of you. Yet you weren’t someone who said no to a challenge. He watched you with dark eyes as he pumped his fingers, adding another one before he pulled out and brought his finger to his lips, moaning as he tasted you.

“I knew it. Like honey…” He shook his head with a grin.

“You talk too much.” You grinned, pulling the condom out of his other hand, ripping it open.

He cocked his eyebrow at you as you pulled the condom over his cock, pumping a couple times. He leaned over, kissing you again, his hands on your ass, pulling you closer to him.

“You will find out that I’m a man of my word.” He whispered against your lips.

“Oh I don’t doubt that, Cap.” You grinned, slowly pushing yourself up so you were on your knees. You rolled your hips up and down his cock, holding on to his shoulders.

“Stop teasing, ‘Hon. Or I’d have to bend you over my knee.”

“Is that a promise?” You asked as you slowly lowered yourself down, his cock pushing slowly into you, making you both hold your breath until he was settled deep inside of you.

“”Fuck, Captain. I’m gonna feel you for days.” You moaned, slowly grinding on top of him.

“Oh no…” He shook his head, thrusting once up into you, making you whimper.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll never even think of another cock.” He promised, his hands on your hips as you began to ride him. Everytime you moved, his cock rubbed over your G-spot. You were so wet and horny, it wouldn’t take long for you to fall apart. His mouth found your breast, sucking on the skin just over your nipple. You were sure you would have bruises once he was finished with you. But you would wear them with pride.

“Fuck…. I’m close already.” You sighed, arching your back, pushing your boobs into his face, which made him growl.

“Me too ‘Hon.” 

You put your hands in his neck and kissed him hard as he looked up at you. You felt his fingers on your clit, rubbing harsh circles, making you moan into his mouth as he began to thrust up, meeting you. You bit into his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth as you parted from him and came so hard, you saw white for a second. He fucked you through your orgasm, holding you close to his chest.

“God you’re so tight… I’m gonna cum.” He groaned. And as you were still trying to get air into your lungs, his thrusts became sloppy until you felt him twitch inside of you. 

“God I wish you’d cum inside me.” You whispered against his ear, making him groan.

“Woman, you will be the death of me.” He shook his head.

You didn’t even care if you looked like you’ve just been fucked as the bus arrived and you walked past the bus driver while Sy paid for the ride. He never let go of your hand, grinning at you, his eyes full of mischief. You didn’t believe in love at first sight… or fuck… but Goddamn this man and his blue eyes.

He motioned for you to walk to the back of the bus where he sat down and pulled you sideways on his lap so you could look at him.

Smiling, you ran your hand on his scruffy cheek, your thumb brushing over his lips.

“You are one of a kind, Captain.”

“And I’m at your service, Ma’am.” He grinned.  “How many stops until we’re at your place?” He asked.

“Eight.” You said, sighing. The grin on his face got wider, making you frown.

“Then you better try to keep quiet.” He whispered, before his hand disappeared between your legs.

[ambivalent-anarchy]

No-one

Masterlist

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: None

Based on a true story. Just wanted to write something relatable for myself lol and anybody else that's gone through what the reader's going through also wtf it's already thanksgiving break? that's wild

Summary: Peter finds out something about his crush that might totally change the game for him

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

"Dare," Ned said, a smile creeping onto his face as the rest of the bus stared at him.

"Okay," you said, looking around for inspiration. "I dare you to..." You tilted your head to the front with a smirk."-go sniff Mr. Harrington's armpit then come back and tell us how he smells," you said, earning some laughs and a disturbed face from MJ.

Ned shuddered slightly, looking to his friend Peter for support. Peter simply shrugged, barely able to hold in his laughter from the frivolous dare.

The entire back of the bus turned to watch as Ned slowly stood up and made his way to the front seat where Mr. Harrington sat, cursing himself out under his breath the whole way there. "Uh, hi Mr. Harrington!"

"Hey there Ned!," Mr. Harrington greeted, but quickly ran himself into a fit of worries, standing up to check the back of the bus. "Why're you up here? What's wrong?"

"Nothing!," Ned yelled, trying to get him to sit back down. "I just... kinda really want to hear about your wife!" Ned looked back to see the entire bus giving him frantic thumbs up.

"Oh," Mr. Harrington said, sitting back down with a blank look on his face. "Well, did I tell you how she set every piece of clothing I bought her on fire and sent me a video of it?" He leaned over a bit as he reached down his pockets to pull out his phone. "I'll show you."

Panicked disgust transformed Ned's face. '1...2...3!' He sucked in a deep breath before practically plunging himself into his teacher's arm.

"Jesus Christ!," Mr. Harrington yelled in shock at being practically tackled by a kid. "What are you doing Leeds?!"

Ned backed up immediately after, face deep red. "Um, I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I LEFT SOMETHING BACK THERE! BYE-!"

The bus erupted with laughter and applause as Ned sprinted back to the back of the bus, leaving a confused Mr. Harrington behind him.

"He smells like cheap cologne," he coughed, his head still reeling. "Cheap cologne covering up a week of no showering..."

"MJ, truth or dare?," Flash asked after the commotion had died down.

"Truth," MJ mumbled, her eyes never leaving her phone.

Flash leaned over till he was practically halfway in Michelle's seat. "Who are the top five hottest guys in our class? Rank 'em." He tilted his ear towards her, obviously expecting to hear his name first.

In response, MJ simply smirked and brought her free hand up to count it off.

"Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody, and nobody," MJ answered with a shrug, earning multiple groans from many boys on the bus.

"That's not acceptable!," Ned exclaimed.

Brad nodded. "Yeah give us a real answer, Michelle."

MJ scoffed, scrolling higher on her phone. "That's the answer I gave you. Therefore, it's acceptable."

You grinned, shaking your head at MJ. "Can't argue with that logic," you said with a shrug.

It was hilarious to see the boys and their little egos, desperate to hear that Michelle Jones, of all people, thought they were hot.

"Well what about you, [Y/N]?," Brad asked, directing his attention to you.

You raised your eyebrows as nearly all of the boys in the bus turned to you with desperate or curious faces. "What about me?," you asked with a smirk.

"C'mon, who's your top five?," Ned questioned.

You placed your hands over your cheeks. "What and help you little lost boys' fragile male egos?," she teased. "Yeah, no thanks."

The boys groaned.

Peter looked over the seat to where you were sitting. He watched as you held your head up, satisfied at the frustration you were causing the guys. Could he? Should he? Ya know what, screw it.

"Well then, truth or dare [Y/N]?," he squeaked, his hands already shaking.

Your eyes flickered over to Peter curiously. "Um, dare, Pete."

He breathed in deep, face immediately turning red from seeing the entire bus looking at him. "I dare you to tell everyone your crush!," he rushed out. "A-and don't lie!"

But then everyone turned towards you with questions and assumptions and guilt quickly fell onto Peter's shoulders. He couldn't make you say that to everyone. How would he feel if someone did that to him? "Wait, nah no no nevermind, I was just fooling around you don't actually have to-!"

Flash spoke over him. "Yeah [Y/N], who's the lucky guy?"

Abe laughed. "C'mon, spill."

Peter hecticly turned and sat back down in his seat, Ned quick to turn with him.

"Dude, I can't believe you just said that!," Ned whisper-shouted with a large grin.

"I can't believe I just said that!," Peter repeated in a gasp, frozen and staring at the back of the seat in front of him in horror.

"Why did you ask her that?!"

"Why did I really just ask her that?"

Ned gasped dramatically. "Oh my gosh do you think she'll say you?!"

"Oh my God what if she says me?!," Peter reeled.

"No-one. I've never had a crush."

Peter's eyes went wide before he turned back around onto his knees in his seat.

"Wait, seriously?!"

"B.S.!"

"Total lie!"

"I smell cap."

The other guys were obviously not putting up with that answer.

Ned frowned. "Like foreal? You've never had a crush? Like ever? In your entire life?"

Peter however, was still trying to process what he'd just heard.

"No-one."

No.

One.

It's not like he expected you to like him back- a part of him sort of wished for it but he knew that was unlikely- but no chance? None at all?

Suddenly you'd become the new focus for every boy on the bus.

"Seriously, who was your last crush?," Brad asked.

You stared for a while. "Do celebrities count?"

"No."

"Oh, then no-one."

Flash stood up. "How does that even work? Are you ace or something?," he asked, right before getting smacked in the head by Abe.

"You can't just ask people that stuff, Flash!"

Flash shrugged. "Yeah I know...but like-" he wiggled his eyebrows. "-are you?"

You groaned and laid back in your seat, already growing tired of this little 'interrogation' the boys were having. "No. I like guys, okay? I've seen enough to know that much at least" You shrugged. "I've just never liked any guy I've met before."

Millions of questions roamed through Peter's head.

Were you lying? Did you just have high standards that no one you'd been around had ever met? What was keeping you from liking people?

He wasn't some big hot-shot lady killer. There was no way he could be your first crush. That's just narcissistic to even think about. Peter had grown to become quite content with not being the guy who just reeled in girls.

He peeked back over the bus seat at all of the boys surrounding you, obnoxiously attempting to show themselves off.

Brad lifted his sleeves and flexed his biceps. "[Y/N], I mean, c'mon. Can't resist the gun show, right? This does nothing for you?"

That one made you laugh. "You guys really aren't as attractive as you think you are!"

Peter groaned for what must've been the tenth time that morning. And the worst part? He couldn't even be mad.

"So, like never? Never in your life?," Flash asked.

Betty chimed in as well. "Not even that 'puppy love' phase we all had in middle school?"

You shook your head. "Why are you all so invested in who I haven't liked anyway?"

"Okay okay," Brad said. "So if you were gonna like someone, who would you like?"

MJ bursts out laughing and you rolled your eyes. "That is literally the dumbest question I've ever been asked in my entire life. I just said I've never-"

MJ nudged you and tilted her head to one of the seats furthest from yours. Peter Parker and Ned Leeds were sitting there, Ned watching the commotion intensely while Peter was seemingly knocking his head into the back of the seat in front of him repeatedly. Poor guy.

You knew he had a crush on you. You could at least do him this one little favor.

You grinned. "Peter."

"Peter?!"

'What?!"

"Parker?! Are you serious?"

"Awww."

Peter looked up frantically. "Um.. okay..why?"

"Yeah, that needs an explanation [Y/N]," Flash sneered, suddenly losing interest when his name wasn't called.

You shrugged and looked at the nerdy boy. "I like his rosy cheeks," you laughed before looking back at your phone. "Plus, he minds his own business, unlike other people."

The school bus filled, half with sounds of disinterest and the other half with sounds of amusement.

"Now can we go back to actually playing the game now? Jesus..."

The game of Truth or Dare continued and you couldn't have been more glad that the guys' interrogation was finally over. But then you got a text on your phone.

MJ: look at parker

Looking over you saw Ned shaking the boy as he simply just stared out of the window with a dumb look of glee in his face. "Dude, snap out of it! We still have a competition to go to, where's your brain gone?"

Ned turned to you with a frown. "[Y/N]...I think you broke him."

Tagging mutuals: @allegra-writes, @allegra-soleil l, @yumings, @hey-its-grey, @spideyyeet, @sunkissedspidey, @tommyunderoos, @chaoticpete, @spidey-reids-2003, @thesherlockianavenger, @bubblebucky, @kelieah

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 6

okay so I wasn’t originally going to include the entire scene in Lessa’s office but, once again, my words ran away from me. now you get this beast of a chapter. it’s the longest one yet, coming in at a whopping 4,383 words so think of it as an apology for letting my other fic take over for a sec and also taking like a million years to post this.

I started working on Luke’s POV because I am nothing if not a fan of jumping the gun, and his writing style is so different and living in his head is such an adorable journey of Julie Molina obsession. really excited for you to see some of the stuff that’s been going on for our sweet lil soft boy. also, if you notice the dialogue style changing a little bit in this/future chapters it’s so I can have the same scenes without a ton of repeated dialogue in Luke’s POV.

writer’s block anecdote of the day: I keep flipping Luke and Alex’s name in Luke’s POV because one of the main OCs in my novel is actually named Alex and has been since I started working on this novel a literal decade ago. oh and there is also an OC named Owen. someday I’ll learn to give my characters unique names, but not today!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​, @kat-maybe-not​, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist​​

Once they were close enough to risk running into other students, Julie dropped Luke’s hand. She made a point of ignoring the frown he gave her, using her now free hand to reach up and adjust her hat. Only, her hat wasn’t there. Her hands landed on loose, untamed curls instead and she immediately turned to Luke with a small amount of panic already building in her chest. He gave her a funny look, and then seemed to notice her hair and somehow understood completely. His hands reached up to lower hers. He let his grasp linger for just a moment before letting go, leaving her hands to dangle limply at her sides. Only his gaze held her in place.

“I never really liked that hat. Your hair is too pretty to cover up like that.”

He said it like a fact. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, your hair is too pretty to cover up. Julie felt a swell of emotions rise again, threatening to overwhelm her. But then he was off towards the front of the school throwing a very casual, “You coming?” over his shoulder at her. She raced to catch up, emotions beaten back for the time being.

They joined the surge of bodies filtering through the front doors. Alex and Reggie stood off to the side inside the entryway of the school. It was impossible to miss the tall blonde in his light pink sweatshirt standing next to the shorter boy in leather. Luke didn’t hesitate to weave his way over to them, but Julie hung back. She wasn’t really sure what was going on between them, wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable enough to just tag along behind him. She caught sight of Flynn’s hot pink beanie bouncing in the distance and let out a sigh of relief. She could separate from Luke here, talk to Flynn, get some perspective on this whole situation.

Luke glanced back at her then. She saw the question in his eyes, felt her heart race when he gave a little side nod like he was inviting her to join him. She swallowed and gave him a half-hearted smile before jerking her thumb over her shoulder in Flynn’s direction. He frowned, but she was already turning away. She pretended she didn’t hear him call her name, slipping into the crowd of students, letting it swallow her up so she could disappear from his sight. Eyes locked on Flynn’s back she moved farther away from the Sunset Curve boys. Flynn only jumped a little when Julie snuck up behind her.

“Jesus, Jules! You scared the shit out of me!”

Her best friend’s familiar voice washed over her like a comforting blanket. All at once, Julie was word vomiting the entire night.

“Flynn, oh my God. He had Mom’s song and he saved it for like, a whole year, and then he gave it to me yesterday, and holy shit I forgot how beautiful it is. And you’re not gonna believe this but I played, like I actually played the piano and sang, and it was like homecoming, it was like the biggest rush, like my mom was right there in the studio with me. And then, oh my god, now you’re really not gonna believe this, but oh my god, then Luke freaking Patterson showed up out of nowhere and he uh might have stayed on the pull-out couch, and then he uhm he made me breakfast this morning? And we walked here together?? He was like...doing this thing where his eyes were going all starry and soft and he was saying really sweet things and it was...a lot and I really don’t know what’s going on with that but uhm I’m kinda freaking out. Also, hey good morning, how are you?”

If Flynn’s mouth opened any wider Julie thought she might unhinge her jaw. In a sea of bustling students, it felt like they were in a bubble all their own. She anxiously fiddled with the bracelets on her wrists as she watched the gears turn behind her best friend’s eyes. After a full two minutes of silence, Flynn’s hand flew out to latch onto Julie’s bicep. Without a word she dragged her down the hallway and into an empty practice room. Flynn released her grip, Julie rubbing at her arm, jeez Flynn was strong!, while the other girl closed the door and flipped on the light that indicated the room was in use. She whirled around, her eyes drilling into Julie’s.

“You’re gonna start at the beginning of that whole mess of truth bombs and spill every last detail about exactly what happened with Luke ‘freaking’ Patterson. Right now. Starting with the bit about your mom’s song.”

Julie took a deep breath and slowly walked Flynn through the events of the last few days, from the moment she had run into Luke after her meeting with Ms. Harrison to when she ran away from him this morning as he was calling her name. Distantly, she was aware of the bell ringing, but it was only homeroom anyway. What did that matter when she was having an existential crisis? Flynn’s mouth only hung open a little bit by the time she was finished telling the story again. Julie felt her shoulders slump. What an emotional rollercoaster. Flynn was quiet for a long moment. Then, she smirked at Julie with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Hmph. Looks like my girl’s got a crush, and his name is Luke. I cannot believe you’ve been holding out on me like this!”

She was teasing, her tone light with a little bit of a mocking sing-song quality to it. But Julie could hear the undercurrent of worry running through her words. She had become quite adept at detecting that particular vocal quality in the last year. She sighed.

“Whatever. Can we focus on the more important revelation that I played the piano and sang again?”

Flynn, best friend that she was, gracefully allowed the subject change.

“Jules, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! How did you feel? Alive again?”

Julie laughed, the sound feeling easy and light as it left her chest.

“Yeah, actually, that’s exactly how I felt. It was...honestly, it felt magical. It really did feel like my mom was there with me. There was this sense of peace that just felt...”

She shivered, remembering the sensation of ghostly arms around her shoulders.

“I can’t really describe it. But it was like something just clicked, and I realized that the best way to remember my mom and honor her is through music. The music we made together and the music I’ll make in the future. Rose Molina’s musical legacy will live on in me, and that feels pretty special.”

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face or the happiness from her voice. Peace really had been found out in that studio last night. Julie felt more ready than ever to move out of the darkness she’d kept wrapped around her like a shield for the last year.

“That’s beautiful.”

Flynn pulled Julie into her arms, the two girls sharing a long hug. The bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom, before either girl could say anything more. They left the practice room together, splitting up when they reached their respective classroom doors. Julie swallowed thickly as she settled herself in the back of her Calc class. This was one of the classes she shared with Luke, although she had conveniently forgotten that fact until the moment she sat down at her desk. He appeared in the doorway within seconds, giving her no chance to properly prepare herself. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he started to make a beeline for the desk next to hers before their teacher caught him.

“Patterson! You know the deal.”

Not even Luke’s best pout could win over Ms. May. She simply raised a brow and pointed at the seat he had been assigned at the front of the classroom. Julie let out a small sigh of relief. It was hard not to smile at Luke’s dramatics as he slumped over and slowly shuffled his way to his desk. He dropped into his seat with a loud huff, glancing over his shoulder at Julie with forlorn expression. She rolled her eyes, smothering her smirk behind her hand. The bell rang again, and he turned his attention to the front of the room as Ms. May called the class to order.

He didn’t stop sneaking looks back at her the entire class period though. It made her want to squirm in her seat every time she dared peek at him and caught him watching her in return. He would always give her one of those soft, sweet smiles and then turn back to his work. It was unsettling, especially when she thought of how he hadn’t paid much attention to her in this particular class before today. Although, now that she really thought about it, maybe he had. Julie had basically been living in a fog of grief for the last year. The school could have caught on fire and she probably wouldn’t have noticed it until her clothes were burning.

She was almost grateful when one of the front desk aides appeared in the door to their classroom. Kayla made direct eye contact with her before knocking on the door frame to get Ms. May’s attention.

“Julie Molina is needed in the office.”

A tense silence fell over the classroom. Every single student remembered the last time Julie had been called down to the office in the middle of a class. Even Ms. May’s eyes flickered with pity for a moment before she gave Julie a gentle smile and nod. Julie stood slowly, forcing herself to keep her breath even as she gathered her books and papers into her backpack. 22 pairs of eyes watched her slowly make her way to the front of the room. One pair burned hotter than the others. Julie met Luke’s eyes for the smallest fraction of a second. Just long enough to see the concern rise up in them. Then she was out the door, walking the uncomfortably familiar path to the front office.

“It’s Lessa. And I think your dad.”

Kayla’s quiet voice startled her. She looked to her left, surprised to find the other girl keeping pace with her. Julie had thought she would walk ahead or peel off to deliver other messages. Instead, she got a small but genuine smile.

“Look, I know things are weird because of the Carrie thing, but I just didn’t want you to freak out too much. Frankly, I think Lessa’s kinda a bitch to pull you out of class like that. She’s an idiot if she doesn’t remember...well anyway. It’s something school related, not like a family thing.”

Kayla briefly squeezed her bicep, almost like she wished she could give Julie a hug. Then she was off down a separate hallway, waving the stack of messages in her hand at Julie as a goodbye. Julie watched her go for a second, feeling off balance and surprisingly emotional. Kayla was a Dirty Candy girl. In the battle lines that had been drawn between Julie and Carrie, Kayla’s position was as obvious as Flynn’s. For all intents and purposes, she shouldn’t be looking out for Julie, and yet, she was anyway. Julie wondered how many small protective moments she had missed from her classmates in the last year. Maybe she hadn’t been quite as alone as she had always felt. She took a deep breath and finished the walk to the front office, a little more ready to face what was on the other side.

Knowing it was school related and that her dad had been called down sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine for a different reason. It had to be something about the music program. Not for the first time, Julie regretted keeping it from her dad for this long. She was out of time now. At least she could thank the universe for small favors. If it had been her Tía in this meeting, Julie’s life would be over. Her dad was more understanding. They would be able to get through this. Julie forced herself to square her shoulders and enter the office with more confidence than she felt. Her mom’s words echoed in her mind you can do it. It was all the strength she needed.

At least until the door to Principal Lessa’s office was closing behind her, and she was face-to-face with her heartbroken father.

“Julie. Take a seat, please.”

Lessa’s voice lacked its usual bite. She just sounded tired. Julie felt that down to her bones. She slipped into the seat next to her dad without a word.

“I’m going to get right to the point. Two of us,” her eyes narrowed slightly on Julie who shifted in her seat in response, “knew this meeting was coming. The other one of us has now been informed as to why it was called.”

The weight of her father’s stare was crushing her. Julie didn’t have to look to see the disappointment there. It was rolling off of him in tsunami sized waves. Lessa continued talking despite the uncomfortable tension growing in the air.

“Now. We have several options. As you both know, Los Feliz is at its core an arts academy. We ask that our students participate in at least one of the arts programs. Participate being the key word there. Julie, it’s clear that participation in our music department isn’t something you’re able to do right now. While we were able to offer you a grace period, we have other students applying for the position you aren’t using. It’s only fair to allow them the chance to participate if you won’t.”

Julie was not going to cry. Not here in front of Principal Lessa and her dad, trapped on school grounds where everyone would see her when she left. She bit the inside of her cheek as hard as she could, letting Lessa’s soft but firm voice wash over her without absorbing anything she was saying.  She caught bits and pieces: Lessa offering her a spot in the less desirable subset of illustration in the fine arts department with a chance to reapply for the music department the following semester, her dad requesting information about the new program as well as copies of her transcripts in case they decided to move schools, Lessa’s voice softening as she apologized, her dad’s growing even softer as he thanked her for everything the school had done so far. Then the meeting was wrapping up, and her dad was shaking Lessa’s hand, and Julie was focusing on her backpack so she could get the hell out of there. She barely caught the sad smile Lessa gave her as she said, “Good luck, Julie” in that same goodbye tone Ms. Harrison had used on Monday. Julie had never been so desperate for her old hat to hide behind as she was in that moment.

She shuffled along behind her dad. It was obvious the school day was over for Julie. He was quiet as they made their way out of the office and into the empty hallway. Class had been dismissed while they were with Lessa. Julie was thankful there weren’t any other students around to witness her downfall. Her dad almost made it out of the building before rounding on her. Almost.

“I cannot believe you tried to hide this from me! I thought I raised you better than that, mija. You’re lucky your Aunt had a work meeting she couldn’t miss. Why didn’t you come to me?”

It was the overwhelming disappointment in her dad’s tone that did Julie in. She had never been able to stomach letting her parents down. If Ray’s voice was any indication, she may have reached the rock bottom of let downs.

“I’m sorry.”

She was. She truly was. She didn’t know why she had kept it from her dad except that if she had told him then she would have had to admit it was real. She hadn’t wanted to face that reality just yet.

“I just don’t understand, Julie. You still like music, right? Is it the school? We can find a different music program. You don’t have to stay here just because your mom loved it so much.”

Julie opened her mouth to argue that actually that was exactly why she had to stay here, but a different voice cut her off. An annoyingly familiar voice that had her heart racing and her palms sweating.

“Julie!”

She nearly groaned aloud. Never before in her life had Julie wished to disappear as much as she did right now. Just open a hole in the floor and jump right into it. The absolute last thing she needed right now was Lucas freaking Patterson getting in the middle of this dressing down. Hell, she didn’t even want him witnessing it let alone trying to get involved. She clenched her jaw, ignored her dad’s pointedly raised eyebrow, and turned on her heel to meet the teenage boy that suddenly seemed to be haunting her every step.

“Luke. Hi.”

She kept her voice flat, the go away clear in her tone. His steps faltered for a second, but she could tell by the way his shoulders bounced that he wasn’t going to be so easily deterred. She had run away from him this morning and been saved multiple times in Calc. He wasn’t going to let her avoid him anymore. He approached her and her dad with all the cool confidence a 17-year-old boy in a band could muster. Her mouth almost fell open when he bypassed her completely to stick his hand out towards Ray.

“Luke Patterson. You must be Mr. Molina. It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

His smile was genuine and charming, his lyrical voice all too polite. Julie wanted to scream as she watched her dad fall for it. Could she not have one single embarrassing moment to herself anymore? Was she doomed to play out the moments she came off looking the worst in front of this cute boy for the rest of her life? Her dad’s eyes lit up as he shook Luke’s hand. Julie wished she could bash her head against something.

“Patterson? Mitch and Emily’s boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

Only Julie caught the way his smile tightened and his shoulders raised defensively at the mention of his parents.

“Wow, you’ve grown quite a bit since the last time I saw you! Good people, your parents.”

Julie rolled her eyes at the dad-ness of it all.

“I forgot you were in the music program with Julie...”

She couldn’t help but cringe as her dad’s words trailed off. That statement had been enough to remind him why he was here in the first place. He turned away from Luke to give her another heartbroken look. She hung her head to escape the censure behind his eyes.

“I am. Actually, that’s why I was trying to find Julie! She was late for rehearsal.”

Julie whipped her head up to glare at the boy still bobbing in front of them. He was trying to cover for her not knowing Lessa had blown that opportunity sky high not even 5 minutes ago. It was sweet in a misguided way, but it was also a painful reminder of all the things Luke had that she didn’t.

“He knows I got kicked out. You don’t have to lie for me.”

Her voice was sharp, and she was fully prepared for the kicked puppy look she was sure he would give her, but instead his smile only grew. His bouncing became impossibly springier, like gravity just didn’t apply to him. And then he winked, actually winked, at her.

“Awh, c’mon, Jules!”

His whine was just the right amount of playful, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Her heart did a weird flip in her chest.

“I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but the poor man is clearly suffering! We should let him in on our little secret.”

Julie’s glare intensified as she ignored the way the words our little secret hit the softest part of her heart. What the hell was he playing at? He winked again, something that should be outlawed given the way it made her stomach drop and knees weaken. Then he held up his hands in a half-hearted I give up gesture.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell him about the plan to get you back into the music program if you don’t want to.”

If this were a cartoon, Julie was sure her eyes would have popped out of her skull completely at those words. As it were, she settled on doing everything she could to keep her jaw from dropping. She had absolutely no clue what he was going on about, but he clearly had some sort of agenda. There was a script to this encounter, she just hadn’t been given her lines. She saw her father shift out of the corner of her eye, arms raising to fold across his chest as he took in the scene unfolding between the two teenagers. Luke was still talking, apparently deciding to capitalize on Julie’s stunned silence.

“I just think it would be helpful if he knew about it. Then we wouldn’t have to sneak around so much. I know you wanted to have it be a big reveal, but we can still surprise your aunt!”

Her dad turned to her with a raised brow, confusion and the smallest seeds of hope growing behind his gaze.

“¿Mija?”

Julie wanted to punch a locker and also vomit. What the actual hell was Luke Patterson doing? She had no frame of reference for whatever game he was playing. No way of knowing if it was serious or some sort of prank. She looked away from her dad to meet Luke’s eyes. He gave her a small, pleading smile, silently begging her to trust him. His eyes became impossibly gentle and she saw that same boy from the studio last night and the kitchen this morning peeking out at her. Ultimately, it was that intimate reminder of his softer side that made her cave.

“It’s nothing, Papí. Just some hair-brained scheme Luke came up with.”

She raised her brow in a challenge, communicating with that one twitch that she wanted to see his endgame here. His face lit up like the 4th of July. She was sure if they had been alone he would have let out a victory whoop. He rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets, biceps flexing in his best cool kid impersonation.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Molina. We’re getting just as much out of this as you are.”

She didn’t have time to snap back that she wasn’t sure she was getting anything out of whatever ‘this’ was before he was plowing ahead.

“See, my band and I lost our fourth member earlier this year, and we have our Junior Showcase coming up, but man, it’s been a serious struggle to find our sound without Bobby, and we really gotta nail this Showcase. It’s like the one where managers scout out who they really wanna pay attention to as a senior, so we gotta be the best.”

Julie saw where he was going with this before he actually got there, but it was too late to stop him. That was what she got for playing along with his stupid game in the first place.

“And see, I finally figured out that what we really need is someone like Julie to elevate us to that level. Your daughter is a freaking wrecking ball of talent, Mr. Molina. It took a lot of begging, but she finally agreed to play with us. There’s no way Lessa won’t put her back in the music program after we play together.”

His grin was a mile wide, pride shining from his pores. He was 100% sure of this plan, she could see it in the way he looked at her. Absolute blind faith in her. It was as flattering as it was terrifying.

“I see.”

Her dad’s voice was shockingly contemplative. Like he was actually considering supporting this crazy idea. He looked at Luke thoughtfully.

“Do Principal Lessa and Ms. Harrison know about this plan?”

Luke’s hand raised for one quick nervous scratch at the back of his neck. He gave her dad his most charming smile.

“Sometimes you’ve gotta go into ambush mode. Swing that wrecking ball of talent and smash some rules, eh?”

If it were any other parent, that line would have probably been the worst possible thing to say. But this was Ray Molina, whose first date with Rose had involved a small amount of breaking and entering as well as a large amount of running from cop cars and stealing kisses while hiding in alleyways. Rose had never met a rule worth following, and it was part of the reason Ray had fallen in love with her in the first place. Luke had sealed the deal without even really trying. Julie was doomed.

“I like it.”

Ray’s smile was almost as large as Luke’s. It was scary how similar they looked right now, enthusiasm shining in their eyes with an intensity that was borderline maniacal. There would be no getting out of this now.

“Why don’t you boys come over to the house after school? You can practice in our studio.”

Julie didn’t even get a chance to open her mouth before Luke was agreeing. She watched him shake her dad’s hand once again, some weird kind of bonding look passing between the two of them. Her dad wrapped a tight arm around her shoulder, and then turned them both towards the front doors again. Julie cast one final look at Luke over her shoulder, heart skipping a beat as he bit his lip and gave her yet another wink.

“See ya later, boss!”

Had her dad not been holding her up, Julie would have melted right into a puddle of mush. Yup, she was totally and completely doomed.

[outcast-thingz]

Hello my lovelies im back once again with a song fic. I'm feeling SUUUUPER DUUUUPER iffy on this one, I don't like how I ended it but I'll put it up for now. Just know it may come down later for editing... anyways enjoy!

Pairing: Kyotani x Reader

Summary: loosing a match results in new friends and a new spark?

Warnings: fluff, and a bit of cussing here and there

Love at First Kick

       "Y/n please!" Oikawa begs. You briefly glare at the whiny boy. You grunt and struggle to win the arm wrestling match with Iwaizumi.

"I'm not going to be your-" you grunt again and successfully push Iwa's hand down on the table, "manager." You turn in your seat so you are fully facing Oikawa. The sinister look on your face is a complete 180 of how you normally look and act. "You interrupt one of my arm wrestling matches with Iwazumi again and I will send you to an early grave Trashbag. Now you two should go, you'll be late if you don't." You threaten. Oikawa smirks,

"You love me and you know it. If you didn't you wouldn't hang around Iwa-chan and I so much!" He lifts a finger as if a light bulb lit up above his head, "what about this? One more match with Iwa-cha. If you win I will stop pestering you about being our manager."

"And if I lose?" You dare to ask. Oikawa frowns,

"I'm surprised you have to ask Y/n-chan~" he returns to that stupid smug smirk, " I thought you were supposed to be smart. You are in smart classes aren't you?"

"Get to the point Trashbag, or I'm leaving." You threaten, he briefly glances at Iwaizumi

"If you lose then you have to agree to be our manager." His eyes narrow and his smirk deepens. Before you have the chance to argue Iwaizumi grips your hand. 

"I-... fine" you roll you eyes, "just be ready to look for someone else to be your manager." You agree begrudgingly. The match begins and you realize your mistake. While you had both been struggling for three round before this, you knew Iwaizumi had a bigger stamina than you. 'That asshole! He waited to ask for this match on purpose!' You thought to yourself as the struggling Iwa successfully slams your hand down. The moment he releases your hand you slam both of yours on the table and rise to your feet.

"Did you let me win earlier!? Because you were NOT pushing as hard as you were earlier!" You argue knowing you were wrong. Oikawa busts out laughing. Iwaizumi shakes his head,

"No, I just refused to lose this because I didn't want to listen to Trashy-kawa moan and complain for the next two weeks about failing again." He crosses his eyes and narrows them at you, " You let your guard down, not me. Maybe part of you wants our manager afterall." His eyes soften as you purse your lips knowing you'd been caught red handed. 

"I do not!!" You lied.

"Awe Y/n-chan~, or should I say Manager~. you don't have to be shy. You can say I finally got to you. After all everyone falls for my charms at some point." Oikawa teases before starting to run off. You spin on your heels and just barely miss being caught by Iwa.

'On the first day of class; you walked into the room; a hot little thing; with a bad attitude'

       You're hot on Oikawa's heels. If you hadn't been mad you would have fell over laughing when he looked over his shoulder and yelped seeing you so close. He busts into the gym where only one other boy happened to be. You kick Oikawa to the floor and quickly pin his arm behind his back.

"Damn Y/n I didn't know you were into that" Oikawa jokes as he winced in pain. A whistle rings out in the gym. Before you could do anything else to the aggravating captain a pair of arms wrap around you. Not knowing who it was turned all of your anger into panic. You struggled for a moment before realizing what you had to do to get free. You slam you head back/up hitting your capture's chin. Then you stomp on their foot as hard as you could. They release you. You spin and round house kick the boy kid that held you. You foot reaches the ground and a chilling grip lands on your shoulder.

"Y/n, calm down." Iwa's voice come from behind you. You work on slowing your breathing as you search for whoever held you. Once you spot him you look up at Iwa who nods and let's you go. Iwaizumi drags Oikawa off by the ear to the changing room where the rest of the boys were exiting from. You extend a hand to the poor boy, 

"Here." He looks you up and down, huffy, and grips your hand. As bright as his yellow hair was you could help but hold your gaze in his glaring eyes. His cold intimidating aura mixed and tangled with his firey, piercing eyes. You gripped as hard as you could and helped him to his feet. You could see his eyes soften as a warm light seems to hide behind the swirling honey brown pot for eyes he has. 

'And I knew, I knew; I knew you were trouble baby'

        "Are you okay? I'm sorry I kind freaked out when I realized it wasn't Iwaizumi who had their arms around me" you apologize. The brooding boy just stares at you for a moment. You purse your lips to the side and lift an eyebrow. After waving a hand in front of him, "hello? Did I really hit you that hard?" And calling to him he blinks. He shakes his head and sticks his hand out to you.

"Kyo- Kyotmmi" he mumbles as he keeps his eyes glued to the outstretched hand. You can't help but giggle and smile. You grip his hand and his eyes snap up to yours like an excited puppy. 

"Y/n," the two of you shake hands. Your hands part and fall to their respective sides. The rest of the team lines up beside Kyotani. You back up so you are in front of them but lined up with the middle person. They go down the line introducing themselves.

"Hello~! It's a pleasure to meet all of you, I'm Y/n! I will be you're new manager, so feel free to ask me any questions." You bow. "Pleasure to meet you manager!" All but one of the boys bow breifly and speak in unison. After a second or two Yahaba turns, slaps Kyo's back and laughs,

"Jesus Mad Dog. Breathe." The rest of the team joins in laughter. Once again you find yourself smiling and giggling,

"Relax Kyo-Kyo. I don't normally roundhouse people, just Oikawa when he gets on my nerves." 

       "Wait!? You roundhouse kicked Mad Dog!?" Kindaichi shouts with wide eyes. You cross your arms and rub your thumb back and forth on your bicep, 

"Yeah… again im really sorry about that Kyo-Kyo."

"I'm sorry did I hear you say Kyo-Kyo~? Awe Y/n-chan~ are you already falling for mad dog? What a cute nickname for him but kinda of opposite from his personality don't 'cha think?" Oikawa teases as he approaches the team with Iwaizumi. Iwa smacks the back of the captain's head. "Iwachan you're so mean!" Oikawa whines.

"Wait. Did you not say Kyo-Kyo? I- oh my! I-I I'm sorry, I really thought you said your name was Kyo-Kyo!" You blushed furiously as you explained yourself. The daggers shooting from Kyotani's eyes at his captain could kill an elephant. 

"Quit saying it if you don't mean it!" He barks at you as he turns his head to the side and stares st the ground. 

"What's that suppose to mean?" Yahaba jokingly elbows Kyotani who is matchingabout blush. Kunimi raises his hand to his chest,

"It was an accident but I think our Mad Dog actually likes our manager's nickname for him." Kyotani growls and glares at Kunimi. Oikawa stomps his foot like a child having a tantrum,

"Don't call him Mad Dog! That's my nickname for him!" Kunimi turns to his captain, pulls the bottom of his eyelid down and sticks tounge out. "RUDE! Don't do that to your captain!!" He chides. You watched as the other team members teases Kyotani while Kunimi messes with Oikawa. 

       Out of worry that the team was overwhelming you Iwaizumi gently places his hand on your shoulder. 

"Y/n?" You smiled and began to laugh. All mouths shut and eyes landed on you. You continued to laugh as the boys shared confused glances. "God, it's no wonder Iwaizumi is stressed all the time." You pause to continue laughing, "it certainly explains why on his bad days it's impossible to beat him in an arm wrestling match. He must be taking his frustration out on the matches. You all are insane…" you laughter dies down but your smile stays. "Losing that match might have been the best thing that's ever happened to me. I can't wait to manage you guys." You admit.

       Everyone shares a collective laugh and practice finally starts. Once it ends Kyotani runs up to you with that excited puppy look in his eyes again.

"Will.. will you arm wrestle me sometime?" He asks, his voice once again a mumble. You nod your head,

"Of course any time Kyotani!" His eyes became dim, almost as if he didn't like you calling him by his real name. He starts to shuffle away. You shake your head smiling yet again because of this hot-headed boy. "Hey!" You call out, "how about after some ice cream, you and I have a match?... Kyo Kyo~" His eyes light up but his face remains blank. You could see that inside he was smiling as he nods. Just like that your free night had a new date.

Taglist: @red-riot-rat @oof-she-needs-therapy @gayfanficanonymous

[pedros-mustache-main]

couldn’t utter my love

summary: some words are simply too dangerous to speak.

word count: 2k+ 

warnings: big hoe for the angst

a/n: long time reader, first time writer (for this fandom, anyway). i’m eager to write for these guys––majority being gwil, bri, and joe. let me know what you think & what you’d like to see. i have some more ideas coming in the future which i’ll share soon. 

(disclaimer: i do not own gif below.)

he’s been there, hovering in the back of your mind like an itch, for the past week.

it’s not totally uncommon, thinking about brian. since meeting in the early days of your university studies, he’s been a friend, and fleeting thoughts––whether he’s finished his term paper, if he’d like something other than a sandwich for supper, if he’s phoned his parents recently––filter through your mind on repeat during any given day. you mother him; it’s an unfortunate habit as the eldest sibling of five, but he’s never seemed to mind. and your silly worries over his health and his studies? they’ve never bothered you either.

that is, until your worries shifted to something... unexpected.

you blame freddie. 

if it hadn’t been for freddie, smile likely wouldn’t have become queen, and queen wouldn’t have taken the u.k. by storm, and you wouldn’t have gotten a front row seat to your friend’s talent and success, and then you wouldn’t have found yourself thinking of brian may as anything other than a good schoolmate. so, in actuality, freddie is at fault for the new course of your thoughts and the new course of your worries.

now, brian is like a spectre in the corner of your eye. he’s always there, even when he’s not. every turn you take around a corner, you imagine he’ll be standing there, all long legs and curly hair. every night when you slip under the covers, you find yourself wondering if brian is alone in his own bed. every morning, when you look at your reflection in the mirror, you try to guess what he sees when he looks at you.

it’s positively infuriating, and it’s freddie’s fault, so you avoid them altogether.

but brian is too smart for his own good, and he catches on fast. he knows the spots around campus you hide in when the going gets tough, and he finds you one thursday afternoon.

it’s raining. you’re snuggled beneath an over-sized, pill-ridden sweater, the latest draft of your senior thesis spread across your lap. the pen in your mouth is worn with teeth marks, and your hands are stained with red ink. you fingers are attentive to the work—you shuffle through the pages of your paper with expertise and purpose—but your mind is elsewhere. you’d dreamt of brian the night before (and not for the first time). he’d been singing to you and you alone, and it’s gotten to be—

“thought I might find you here.”

you look up, the replay of your dream stuttering to a halt. his hair is sodden by the rain, his face covered in a fine mist. he’s smiling, though the smile is soft as ever, as if he’s shy despite it only being you and he in dimly lit corridor. 

“here.” he hands you a paper cup. steam rises from within, smelling vaguely of berries. “can i sit?” he motions to the small space on the window seat not overtaken by your work or your feet.

you nod, and he squeezes himself in between the wall and your legs. you scoot your knees closer to your chest in response.

“i haven’t seen you ‘round lately,” he says. “i––we missed you at the last few shows.”

with a sigh, you set your cup of tea on the floor. “i’ve got my thesis. it’s due soon.” he only looks at you, so you hurriedly add, “i’d be there if i could. you know that.”

he shrugs, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck. “i haven’t been paying much attention to my coursework myself. thing’s are kinda crazy.”

at this you have to laugh. he’s effortlessly humble about queen. you suspect he views it as a hobby; at least, he did at one point. what with the recent tour around the u.k., you’re surprised he’s still enrolled in his doctorate program. anyone else would have jumped at the chance to drop out and focus entirely on rock n roll.

but not brian. he’s different. and that’s why you like him.

that’s why you like him as a friend. nothing more.

the silence stretches, thinning but not yet brittle. quiet has always been a part of your friendship. whether it’s studying in the library or reading in one of the common rooms, you feel at ease in the subdued moments you share with brian. but this silence... it’s different. you shift on the bench, your backside gone numb. you open your mouth to say something, but he speaks first.

“we’re going on tour... after the holidays.”

your brow puckers in a frown. “you only just got back from a tour. a small one, but still a tour.”

“this one’s bigger. it’s america... japan too, if they can fix it.”

your first instinct is to question him, to mother him: what about his program? what about his family? what about all the travel, the logistics of it all? what about his health?

what about you?

instead, you smile. you lean forward and squeeze his shoulder. “i’m happy for you, bri. truly i am. that’s wonderful news!”

the tension in his shoulders seem to ease under your fingers, but you chalk it up to the happy news and his excitement. still, you leave your hand on his upper bicep, your touch feather-light. 

“i’m really happy about it. all the guys are. but it means i’ve got to let go of my studies for awhile. i just came from submitting the withdrawal forms.” he shakes his head with a rueful sort of chuckle. “never thought i’d say that.”

“it’s not every day you become a rock star.”

head still bent, he peers at you through his long lashes. “i came to tell you first. i mean, besides the registrar. i thought you should hear it from me instead of... i dunno... someone else.”

as cliche as it is, butterflies take flight in your chest. you try to squash them, but they won’t be moved. you’re left with a hammering heart and increasingly hot palms. you pull your hand away from his arm, but nudge his leg with your foot.

“well, i’m honored. it’s not every day a girl’s lab partner suddenly decides to tour the world with his band. just so long remember me when you start winning awards or something. after all, i was the one who helped you through literature 101.”

you’re rambling now, nervous and trying to underplay the rising giddiness in your chest. likely he meant nothing by his decision to come and give you the news first. your mind, however, which has run through wistful thought after wistful thought for the last week, jumps at the chance to imagine that he could mean something more.

his gaze is serious, as is customary, but there’s something decidedly more intense about the way he’s looking at you. you look down at the floor and reach for your tea. the cup is growing cool, perhaps hurried along by the chill of rain against the window. you take a sip, try not to smile at his remembering your favorite flavor. 

“you mean a great deal to me,” he suddenly says. 

your eyes snap up, meeting his. you swallow past the lump in your throat. something about the tone in his voice and the uncertainty in his eyes makes you wonder what more he’s trying to say.

“you mean a lot to me, too, bri. i’ll miss you loads while you’re gone.” you force your lips into an easy smile. “but you’ll be back and then i’ll keep pestering you about whether you’ve eaten enough for dinner. maybe i’ll call you in japan just to make sure.”

“[y/n]...” his voice is but a whisper, so much softer than it normally is, heavier too. he twists where he’s sitting, and you feel your heart squeeze painfully. 

you know what he’s going to say then. you can see it written across his face, in the way he watches you every movement, in the way his hand moves to cup your bent knee then falls to his lap. god, you’d dreamed of this––him wanting you. only you hadn’t planned on the fear which is creeping up your spine. you hadn’t planned on feeling so afraid when it truly happened. you aren’t even sure what you’re afraid of, but the giddiness of moments past is quickly replaced by panic.

before he can speak, you surge to your feet. the force of your movement sends papers scattering to the four winds, falling through the air like leaves in autumn. you set the tea aside and drop to your knees, muttering under your breath as you scramble to grab the papers and put them back in their proper order. brian joins you (as if he wouldn’t?). your hands brush amongst the mess, and, by george, you want to take his hand and hold it, maybe even kiss his knuckles if you’re daring enough, but you’re too afraid. too afraid of what it will do to your friendship which is good and solid and comfortable. and you’re too afraid of what will happen if you do hold his hand and then he leaves and meets someone else, someone more suited for life beside a rockstar. 

so you ignore the fleeting touch, mumble a thank you as you stand, papers gathered––out of order, but gathered.

he towers over you. it’s not threatening, but it’s not as comforting as it once was. he shoves his hands in his pockets, his face colored by frustration.

“when do you leave?” you ask.

“februrary, i think.”

“i really will miss you.” 

your words have an air of finality you weren’t intending. you don’t mean to say goodbye forever. aside from a handful of others, brian is your closest mate at school. he has been since year one, and you don’t want to lose that. you don’t want to lose that to a world tour or a shift in your relationship.

even if it means shutting off the part of your heart that is screaming––screaming––for you to push to your toes and kiss him hard in the quiet hallway.

brian has the decency to nod in agreement, though you can see the disappointment in the way he holds his shoulders. “i’ll miss you, too.” clearing his throat, he jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “i should go tell my parents the news.”

“yes!” your voice is loud in the cramped space; you suppress a wince. “yes, they’ll be thrilled.”

“well”––he shrugs, the awkward, gangly boy of your first year––“bye.”

leaning forward, he presses a kiss to your cheek. it’s all you can do to not turn your head and capture his lips, wind your arms around his back, and throw fear to the wolves. instead, your eyes flutter shut, reveling in the softness. he draws back, and the moment is gone.

“bye,” you whisper. “i’ll call you over the holiday, yeah?”

he nods. you both know the truth. 

with a grim sort of smile, he turns and walks down the hall. you watch until he disappears around the corner. 

months later, you catch a glimpse of him on the local news. the reporter is raving about queen’s success across north america and hyping the band’s journey to asia. the images of him which flash across the screen are brief, a second here and there in between shots of roger and freddie. 

you slowly sit on the couch, hands curled around a mug of tea. berry flavored, like the one he gave you. you watch, entranced, until he appears, just him, speaking to someone just off camera.

“i guess we just want to say thank you.” his voice is slightly garbled by poor quality, but it wrenches your chest because you hadn’t realized how much you missed the sound of it. “it’s been great fun over here, and we’re excited for japan. should be exciting.” his eyes slide to the camera, and he laughs with ease. “i think i’m having trouble remembering to eat, though, we’re so busy, but it’s all good.”

you know in your heart of hearts he’s speaking to you. and you wish, not for the first time, you could change the past. you wish you had ignored the fear and said what you both felt.

you wish you had kissed him when you had the chance.

[felineinquiries]

Dinner and Reconciliation

[ Collaborative RP with @themarmaladeblog / @waynecorp-incorporated ]

[S]

Selina is precisely on time. She prides herself on it, in fact; five thirty means five thirty, and not a minute later.

So it is at five thirty that she, in clothes meant to suit the season and slightly on the flirty side, knocks at the Wayne Manor Door.

 [B]

Bruce, himself, answers the door. He's in a suit, a personal comfort, though it's too hot for even his constitution to weather a jacket. Summer and three pieces don't really get along.

"Selina." He says, and tries to smile. It more or less works, though his eyes crease with something decidedly other than pleasure at seeing her. Still, he steps aside and with a grand, if halfhearted gesture, waves her into his home.

"Been a couple days, you look... good."

 [S]

Inwardly, Selina sighs. Awkward, great. She counts silently to three before she tosses him a radiant smile over her shoulder. "Come now, darling, we've spent longer apart than this."

"And since when have I delivered on anything less than stunning for you, heart? Though I understand, circumstances being what they are...."

"I am glad to see you, Bruce. I am always going to be glad to see you, pet."

"The tension in your shoulders isn't called for, I promise."

 [B]

He rubs the back of his neck. Is he... tense? He hadn't noticed.

.... Okay, that's a bold faced lie, but he was used to it, he hadn't thought she had noticed. Bruce makes a mental note to lower his proverbial hackles, just a little. His shoulders sink, still as his posture remains.

"Right, yeah, of course. I uh, I wasn't sure if you'd want to eat, or, see Marmalade first, or...?"

 [S]

"We can eat, and... talk, how does that sound?" Selina shrugs her bag off her shoulder, smile fading as she turns her head away from Bruce again. Well...

Jervis had said he was nervous. She didn't think he'd be this nervous, so that's.. certainly something to adapt for, but she's dealt with worse.

She's pretty sure she's dealt with worse, anyway. Not with Bruce, though....

Ah well, stage face on.

She knows where the dining room is, and starts there presently. "After all, you look as to have quite a few things on your mind, my love."

 [B]

"Yeah, you could say that." He agrees, following a step behind. His mind races as he walks. Is this goodbye? Is that really such a bad thing if it is? What had she even been seeing him for anyway for all this time?

He should... probably ask that, come to think of it. That'd be a good thing to get off his chest.

Instead of that perfectly eloquent list of questions, however, Bruce goes with the much better choice of: "Why are you here, Sel?"

 [S]

Selina... blinks. And turns her head to blink at Bruce directly, instead of the hallway she was in the process of navigating. Stops walking, and all that - no one needs to go crashing into an antique over befuddlement.

"I beg your pardon?" Her tone is light, confused, no edge to her words. She's scarcely sure she heard him right, even, and so her brow furrows. "Why am I... here, darling?"

"It's to see you, of course, dear. I'm afraid I don't believe I really understand your question....?"

 [B]

"No, I get that. I do. I figured it wasn't just for my cat, I just...."

"Why? Why do you want to see me?" He knows this isn't the right way to phrase this. Not slightly. Nor should he be allowing frustration and anger into his tone, and yet... and yet.

Internally, in fact, he berates himself: Bruce, this is Selina we're talking about. Selina. Cool your temper, my man, she's always been on your side, even after figuring out the mask. Relax, just a little.

But internally, a stronger voice, demands answers. Damn the phrasing. You're the Batman.

 [S]

Puzzled blinking becomes... a quiet frown. She's being rebuffed. All right then, she can play this game too, Bruce.

She turns to face him fully, lifts her chin, and draws herself up to her fullest height. Back straight, severely so, lips a thin line, eyes narrowed only slightly.

"I'm sorry darling, I'm not sure I understand what you're asking, could you please elaborate on that a little?"

 [B]

Bruce draws himself up too, preparing, mentally, for a fight, but - but.

The smaller voice wins out. This is Selina, it yells down his anger, What the hell is wrong with you, Bruce?

And, so he deflates. His gaze drops from her narrowed eyes to the floor, and he picks a bit at one sleeve with his fingernails. "...Sorry."

"I'm not really sure what I mean." Liar. "Or at least," He amends, "I don't know how to phrase it. Come on, let's... get food, I'll figure it out. Pretend I never said anything."

 [S]

"No, Bruce, you don't get to just walk away after insinuating that I had ulterior motives for coming here today." Her eyes narrow further, and she does not budge.

"Did you think I was going to rob you? Or that I was here to mock you, or...?"

"Talk, Bruce. I want to hear what you're thinking."

 [B]

Oh.

He shuffles, and, moves to lean against, something, so he can look up but doesn't have to look at her. He doesn't really want to look at her.

"I - I don't think that little of you, Sel. I promise. I just...."

"You made it clear you don't love me, so I don't really know why you're still humoring me."

 [S]

Selina is... quiet, for a few moments. Staring at Bruce's face - she will move, if she has to, so she can stare at Bruce's face.

Silent, calm, passive, with an unreadable mask in place. Her arms cross, and she taps a fingernail against her bicep in thought.

"....If your view of me is that shallow, Mister Wayne, then I suppose I can collect my things and go, shall I?" She asks, and her tone is as calm and even as her expression.

Calm, even, and terribly cold. Dangerously so, in fact.

 [B]

His head jerks up in alarm. Wait, what? What did he do? He did something. He has no idea what he stumbled over, and he searches Selina's face for answers. What?

"Wait, what? No, what do you...? You told me you didn't love me, Selina, you... didn't you?"

"That's what the whole thing, this whole thing is about, Sel, isn't it?" He frowns, frantic.

"Don't, don't just leave, I don't understand - did I miss something?"

 [S]

...Sigh. Selina closes her eyes, and presses two tips to her temple, massaging it. This dear, stupid man, honestly now...

No, it's wrong to expect him to understand just because she talks about it on her blog, she can at least - really now, Bruce do you read nothing that I write? - ugh, she can explain. She will explain.

"I want to sit down." She informs him, without opening her eyes. And with that, she turns, and starts towards the dining room again. "You've got a few things mixed up, darling, the least I can do is clarify. But don't you dare say that I don't care for you, really and truly and genuinely."

"Frankly I thought you knew me better than that."

 [B]

Bruce stumbles to follow, head reeling only slightly. She does? Love him? Then? But she... talked about how she didn't? Days ago.

He doesn't get it. Not at all. But promise of an explanation has him following her, and pulling a chair out in a bustle to be a proper gentleman. And maybe it'll put her back in a good mood, who knows?

Not him.

He, apparently, doesn't know anything.

 [S]

He'll have to wait. She does accept the seat with a tight-lipped smile, and treats Alfred to a much warmer one when he comes around to explain what's been cooked, or is cookable. She makes her selection, requests a glass of wine, and is well settled and with something to drink before she'll even look at Bruce again.

"...Love and Romance are not the same things." She says, simply, scowling at Bruce over the lip of her glass.

"I have no desire for the latter, but that doesn't mean I don't love you, you fool of a man. If I didn't, I'd have taken my money from this place and left years ago."

 [B]

Bruce's heard skips in his chest. Probably not literally, but who can tell these days? He's been thrown into so many walls, a murmur is just par for the...

No. Stop it. Stop that train of thought. This is not about Batman, this is not about injuries, this is not about dwelling in dark shit, Bruce. Bruce.

For ten fucking seconds, Bruce, talk to the people you're looking at and stop getting lost in your own god damn problems. Focus. Okay? Got it? She said she loves you.

He blinks back into reality, mouth dry, close to tears. Water will save him there, he decides. "You do?"

 [S]

"...Went on a bit of a trip there, darling?" The light tone is back to her words. Teasing. Familiar, fond.

"Goodness, Bruce, you read people for a living, darling." Selina's chuckle is gentle, and again, familiar. "I'm flabbergasted this all comes as such a surprise. You're very dear to me, heart. As dear as Jervis, or Edward, or Jonathan."

"Just because I can't return those... fuzzy feelings of wanting to be swept away into a forever after doesn't mean that I don't adore you, you dear man. You're a wonderful person, darling, and I like your company."

"That is why I'm here."

 [B]

"...Oh." Bruce says, softly. It's all he can say, and he's grateful for when the salads come around. He feels a bit... foolish, now.

Mister Tetch was right, this... wasn't going to change anything, was it?

"Does it, um. Bother you that... I do have feelings of romance towards you, Sel? I kinda, assumed it would, though I'm glad to know you still love me. Or, uh, always did, I guess."

 [S]

Mmm... She pauses, mid bite, to think that over, head slowly tilting towards one side, eyes unfocused.

"...I suppose that depends on you, darling. I can't return those feelings, much as... frankly, I'd prefer if I could. I'm not blind, after all, you are a catch. And moreover, a good man."

"But I can't. I've tried that before and I was miserable, trust me, you don't want to leave my life through the route of my attempting to pretend because it would be easier. So... does it bother you?"

"That you will be among my dearest of friends, one with whom I'm quite happy to get physical, and who I'd rather like to keep around if I have a say in it, but... that I will never see you as more than that? Are you going to try and change me, dear?"

"Because if... no, then, no. I'm quite comfortable with what we are."

 [B]

"...I may need a bit of time to reconcile that." He admits, softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Right, food, yes. He can buy time with food. And also should probably eat, worrying does terrible things to an appetite, after all, and he likely needs it. "But, um...."

"That's a me thing, not a you thing. I'm really glad to hear that, where things stand hasn't changed too much and, - well, I obviously like having you around, heh. Yeah, uh..."

"...Sorry for jumping to conclusions. I'm glad to hear it, Sel. I lo-- I care about you a lot, too."

 [S]

Selina smiles her bright, radiant smile, and means it this time, leaning to pat Bruce's hand. "Time, I can do. And well, I'm easy enough to call, after all, darling."

"You let me know when I'm welcome, and I'm here, love. That's how it works. And of course, you're welcome to visit, if you call ahead~? Clients don't really like having work meetings interrupted, but that doesn't mean I can't prioritize the company I actually... want."

 [B]

He smiles, at that. Want - wanted. Being wanted isn't the worst thing in the world - it's kind of nice, honestly. "Yeah, I definitely will do. The house's been kinda quiet without company."

"I've uh, actually reached out to mister Tetch some, and invited him and Jonathan over for tea if they wanted sometime, I thought... y'know, I should probably make more friends."

"Than just... three friends. That's not a lot of people."

 [S]

Selina grins to herself, and chuckles. "We'll make a social butterfly out of you yet, mister Wayne. In a way you like, even."

"I'm sure Jervis darling will appreciate the repose, as well, and Jonathan the opportunity to make you uncomfortable in your own home~ Do have fun, though, they're really lovely gentlemen, both of them." Smile.

"Much like Edward." Her grin grows. "You didn't think I'd forgotten, did you?"

 [B]

Bruce flushes in his ears, and near about drops his fork. "Selina!"

"I - look, it's, it's not a good idea. You know why it's not a good idea, he - okay, so he's charming."

"And really cute. And when he lets his guard down and gets enthusiastic about something it's honestly riveting to watch and it's hard to not think about him lately but that doesn't mean it's going to work out, Sel."

 [S]

"It doesn't mean it won't~" She sing songs, grin growing even further. Her eyes are alight with mischief, now, as she looks Bruce over.

"Come now darling, I've been dancing around with fools in love who won't admit it for weeks now, I can't tease them, so I have to tease you. And besides~"

"You're rambling. <3"

 [B]

Bruce can no longer object. He simply makes a flustered sputter of indignation and dives for the solace of food, ears burning. Okay, so nothing she said is wrong, and it is true that it's as likely to flop as not, but that doesn't mean he should say anything, 

"...Okay, fine, yeah, sure." Mumbled. "But I barely know him, Sel."

"I said this last time, I don't know him better just because it's been two weeks, I just.... C'mon, let up, right?"

"Yes, he's... wonderful, and adorable and... and a rogue. And interesting, and a rogue."

 [S]

"Aw." She tuts, patting Bruce's hand. "That never stopped you with me~ Just... don't give up on him, darling. Even as just a friend, I do think he truly likes you, and frankly, you deserve more people who do."

"Besides, more time in his company means more time to sneak a look at his butt when he's not looking; I do it to you, only fair."

 [B]

"Jesus Christ Selina...!"

But he laughs. The tension is broken, finally. It shakes the anxiety out of his shoulders even as he shakes his head and focuses on the soup now being brought around.

"I've got Marmalade in the Library, you're going to love him. He's as much a mischief as you are, I swear to god...."

 [S]

She chuckles faintly. "Good. Someone should keep you on your toes, and it seems fitting it's going to be a cat. I'm honestly... thrilled to meet him." She too, focuses on her soup - adding pepper, and the like.

"...Regarding Edward, darling. Just remember he's as much of a nerd as you are, and... flirting hasn't come from an honest place before, I don't think. Fans, and the like - if it comes at all, I don't imagine he got much behind a desk before."

"You'll need to be earnest. Okay?"

 [B]

...Blink.

"Ah... yeah. I'll keep that in min-- I'm not planning on hitting on him, Selina."

He catches himself mid-sentence, flustering. "Not... not anytime soon, anyway."

 [S]

"Riiiight. I'll remind you in a few weeks then." She grins a bit, flashing fangs in Bruce's direction, before settling in to eat.

"At least you stopped flirting as The Batman, that was really a terrible call."

 [B]

"...Yeah. No, I know. It's a shield, it wasn't a good decision by any means. No more of that."

"...Thanks, Sel. I mean, this is weird, and vaguely uncomfortable but..."

"Kinda nice to know? You think I have a chance, maybe?"

 [S]

"I do, if only because he respects you, but - don't rush, darling. And don't see it as an end goal. Edward is a darling man and his company is reward enough, when he chooses to give it enthusiastically."

"That you're getting it is a good sign, but be prepared for it to stop there - and try anyway. Okay?"

 [B]

"...Okay."

[mrs-hollandstan]

Undercover {2} || Undercover Cop!Reader x Mobster!Bucky

Warnings: more alcohol consumption, language, talk of past domestic abuse, talk of religion, lil bit of violence, kidnapping?? (already in the last chapter), verbal fighting

Word Count: 3,745

Author’s Note: Here’s part two loves. I also left this part open for a next and I might have smut in the next one or the one after?? Idk, I’ll see where it takes me. Leave me feedback!

⟵Previous || Series Masterlist || Next⟶

Bucky was very familiar with the story of Adam and Eve. Despite being violent by nature, he still referred back to his Catholic upbringing brought upon him by his mother after his father left the family. He and his sisters dressed in worn clothes that were handed down, and some of the people of upper Brooklyn crinkled their noses at, attended church every Sunday with their God fearing mother who prayed every Sunday morning that her son wouldn't end up like his father. She prayed every day and every night that her son would be nothing like his abusive, alcoholic father and if he ever were a father he'd the complete opposite. And he proved her wrong. She didn't see the business he was starting. She was gone long before he began the criminal career of head mobster of New York. He wasn't an alcoholic and he killed men that hit their women or kids. He kept a Bible in his office but it hadn't been opened in years. The small black Bible with crumpled, yellowing pages had belonged to his mother. He'd been thunked upside the head with it a few times when he'd said something stupid, but it brought memories back that often reminded him to go to a confessional every once in a while. And the father at the local church was always waiting patiently, every other Sunday or so for Bucky to come in and confess to all the crime he committed. The story of Adam and Eve was one of the stories Bucky was most familiar with. He saw himself as Eve in the situation of you and him. He knew what he wanted with you was forbidden but he was tempted and if he could, he would eat the forbidden fruit. Hell, he was even willing to face the consequences. The way he saw it, half of your precinct was crooked anyways. It's not like he'd get arrested waltzing in to see his girl. Half of the men would even welcome him like a long lost relative showing back up at Christmas. But he wouldn't show you that. Even if you already knew.

He sat fuming in his corner of the bar the night after you'd shared a cold shower, awaiting your arrival expectantly. But you didn't show. Instead you ordered takeout, watching the clock tick by and wondering if he'd show his face in your building again. Your heart skipped excitedly when the delivery man knocked, leaving you wondering if it was Bucky. But much to your dismay it was a tall blonde with similar blue eyes that you wished were someone else's. Bucky questioned going out to find you. Force you back to the bar and take the snake off his hands. But you never arrived and he was a little saddened. And you, the same when you rolled into bed that night with no butterflies fluttering in your belly from the mobster kissing you or growling in your ear, showing how pissed off he was at your actions.

The following day and evening was slow, your feet kicked up on your desk waiting for more phone calls staring at the same dingy wall and twiddling a pen between your fingers. Each time you sighed, your so-called partner, Agent Davis, smiled to himself, flipping through old unsolved cases and doing paperwork,

"You should go out. Just patrol. See if ya catch any robbery suspects or a hopeless dame wrestling her purse from some criminal. Ya got too much time on your hands." Twirling the pen, you shook your head and reached across the joined desks to snag a dusty manila folder from the thick stack,

"Nah... I'm goin out later. I'm gonna bring someone in tonight." Cocking his head, red hair fell in Davis's curious eyes,

"Is this still about Barnes? You better watch yourself. He shows up here and you could end up dead. Half these fuckin cops got a thing with him and if you deliver him in cuffs you better draw a line for them to cut across your neck."

"You think I don't know that? I'm not stupid. And no, it's not Barnes. He's actually... helping me... unfortunately." Dropping his own pen against the desk as if he'd been shocked, Davis leaned in, the crisp, light blue button up he had on stretching tightly around his biceps,

"Seriously? What happened to you staying neutral Y/L/N? You told me you wouldn't get involved and now here you are shacking up with the head kingpin of New York." Tsking, you shook your head,

"Not that it's any of your business Davis, but I told you that to shut you up. It seems like every word that comes out of your mouth is you spouting some bullshit about what's in my best interest. News flash, I'm a big girl, I can handle myself. Being a cop isn't a cake walk, I earned my way in and I sure as hell can handle the responsibility that comes with it without you breathing down my neck every five minutes." He frowned disapprovingly, leaning back in his chair, the creak of it ricocheting off the walls. He studied you through narrow eyes, watching the tendrils of hair not tucked in the braid resting neatly at your back bob as you looked through the suspects in an old, tattered manila folder that had seen many a fugitives in its day,

"What did you do?" Your eyes found his again, quickly looking back down at the date of birth of one Adrian Gonzales, a convicted armed robbery suspect put behind bars for six months until a more cement sentencing was drawn out in the few short months arriving. The year 1988 flashed in your brain as you collected words for Davis in the forefront of your mind. And then it spilled,

"I let him kiss me."

"You what?" He whisper yelled like an excited schoolgirl who just found out who her best friend's crush is at a sleepover. You looked up again, his eyes sparkling in wonder, now resembling that same schoolgirl but older, wondering when her best friend became such a badass. His general reaction had you cracking a smile through the stoic façade. You nodded, biting your lip,

"He brought Stark to my apartment. He was just sitting in the dark and scared the piss out of me. But he uhh... he's handsome and he just... without words asked to kiss me and I let him." You reply quickly with a shrug, your finger tracing over the red stamp in Gonzales's file that in the moment you couldn't read. Your brain was fogged with how bad of an idea the situation of Barnes was. Davis was growing excited at not only the opportunity for you to finally get some, but at the sheer audacity of you to want to take on such a wide load with a convicted felon in your bed if it ended well.

"What. A. Rebel." He speaks slowly and when you look up again, his eyes are trained on the wall behind you, his eyes flashing, deep in thought,

"So what flowers do you want in your bouquet?" You giggled together, Davis shielding himself when you chucked a paperclip his way,

"Shut up. Don't assume it's going that far. It was just a kiss."

"Yeah but you read him. He didn't even have to ASK to kiss you and you gave him permission. That's soulmate material. I expect it to at least get to third base." With a sarcastic roll of his eyes, he smiles, resting his chin on his hand,

"Its not that serious. It was one kiss, a spur of the moment thing. No more." He clicked his tongue,

"Right, just make sure that you name one of your boys after me when you get one."

"Shut up!" He chuckled, leaning back in his chair,

"Y/N Barnes. Got a nice ring to it darlin. I like you two together. I feel like he's like the devil and you're an angel and he's gonna corrupt you. It's kinda hot... like... write a book after you guys get together." Rolling your eyes,

"Anyways... moving on swiftly, I want you to help me pick out my outfit. Red dress?" You turn your phone, showing him the mirror selfie of yourself in a short, low cut red dress that dared to impress, "or leather pants and a tank?" You swiped to the next photo, similar in taste but black leather jeans and a fitted black tank top, both of which clung to your curves. Davis's eyebrows raised,

"Uhh... I-I don't know. They're both daring and bold and will definitely capture attention but are you trying to scream sexy or business?" Thinking on your answer, you shrugged,

"I'm not really sure." You muttered. He sighed,

"I'd say red dress. You look good." You nod, looking yourself over in your awkward selfies. At ten in the morning, just before your shift you were trying on outfits for him. He'd never know that but you felt ashamed. You pulled out every piece of clothing you think he'd like and by the looks of it, you'd fit right in to the Barnes Mob family. Sitting in his lap just like he imagined playing with his hair and kissing his neck while he negotiated an arms deal. Despite the hard shell, Bucky was desperate for every grain of your attention. He wasn't used to not getting what he wanted and now here you are telling him no. Watching you daydream, Davis smiles,

"My God you're in love."

"I am not and don't you repeat that. It's a job and I intend to get it done. Even if I have to seduce him a little bit."

"You know he'd be impressed by you in fucking sweats but here you are going all out with a fucking red dress and some high heels. There's no need for seduction, you're a stunner babe." Rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair again, wondering how Bucky would take to you skipping into his club after telling him you'd be in the night before. No doubt about it, he'd be pissed seeing you strut in like nothing happened. But what you'd done was over, you'd have to face the consequences with a high head and pray it didn't bite you.

Around nine that same night you dressed in the little red dress, sliding a pair of black pumps on to go with it. The bright lights outside Bucky's club made you realize how deep in you were. The bouncer knew your name instantly, your nerves skyrocketing, a hand on your lower back from the tall blonde as you entered the already crowded club privately as if you were a queen. The smell of sweat and alcohol was strong and through the crowd, you could see Bucky, his eyes wandering the misty, dark club. When his scanning eyes rested on your figure stood in the doorway, you swore he clenched his jaw in anger, his grip tightening on his typical tumbler. Downing the rest of the alcohol in it without looking away, he stood, brushing his suit jacket off and storming up the stairs to his office. Pushing through the crowd, you paused at the base of the steep steps, composing yourself before heading up. The clack of your heels on the wood announced your presence, Bucky's fists tensing in his pockets, his jaw clenching as his anger boiled over on the stove of his belly. Trudging up to the open velvet door, the stale cigar smell hit you in the face like it did the night before last, somewhat comforting you in the heated moment. Enveloped in the scent and the new warmth his office brought, you sucked in a deep breath through your nose, exhaling slowly and looking him over. Hues of red and blue danced across his pale face, shadowed as he clenched his jaw again and again, his hands tucked in his pockets and his jacket discarded across the back of the desk's single chair. He stared down at the bar-goes through the single octagonal window,

"Close the door." He spoke lowly, not flinching as you complied, closing the creaky door tight behind you. Standing frozen to your place in the doorway, the air between the two of you was suffocatingly thick. He cleared his throat, his eyes traveling up to the ceiling,

"This is a fucking game to you isn't it?" When you didn't respond, his eyes found yours, his anger strengthening at the shy look in your own,

"Don't go shy on me now baby. You're the one that played me remember." He spat through gritted teeth.

"I didn't play you. I was acting the same as you did. You kick me outta here and tell me that we'll be in touch and you expect me to just sit here and play your little bitch. Expect me to come running every time you call?"  

"So where were you last night then huh? I had my arch fucking nemesis sitting in my office all fucking night, waiting for your ass to make an appearance, and I could've turned him loose but no, I held him waiting for you to show and you didn't." Crossing his arms and turning his body towards you, he cocks his head like a child waiting for his question to be answered by a parent, his feet set at a wide, domineering stance that you wanted to laugh at if you were completely honest. Looking down at the dress clinging to your every curve, your lips twitch up,

"I was at home... what are you gonna do Mr. Barnes... punish me?" The shock written across his face is a mixture of comical and terrifying. Either way you've just crossed a line and there's no coming back. He growls before he storms forward, bracing you against the door behind you, his body pressed against yours. With his arms above your head, he growls again, shaking the door,

"Is this a fucking game to you sweetheart? You think you're special or somethin?" Staring up into his stormy blue eyes you can see the battle he's in with himself. He wants you. He wants you just as much as you want him. But his business and your job both stand in the way. Diving in for it, your lips meet his rather harshly. He stumbles back holding your body to his as you thread your fingers through his hair. Turning you both, he slams you into one of the dark walls, holding your wrists in his hands again, jamming a knee between your thighs, his face darker than before,

"You don't get what you want. You don't get to fucking stand me up and waltz in here and say you're not my bitch and then act like you're gonna get somethin outta me." His jaw clenches yet again and you can't help but feel a little overpowered,

"What do you want from me Barnes? You want me to drop to my knees and beg you to forgive me? You want me to come in here every night and make you happy?"

"I WANT YOU TO STOP ACTING LIKE A CHILD!" He snarls in your face pulling you back only to slam you against the wall like he did that first night. You squeak involuntarily, your wrists pressed so hard into the wall that now you're convinced they'll break. You whine in pain, twisting them in an attempt to get them free, your eyes still locked in his,

"Bucky you're hurting me." The pain in your voice has him pressing harder, a cry falling from your lips. With hair covering your face as you bow your head, another cry leaves you and you raise your head, tears already streaming down your cheeks,

"Bucky please you're gonna break my arms." The quiet voice breaks through his rage, the sight before him something he saw far too often during his childhood. The tear tracks down your cheeks has him reeling back, your body slumping against the wall as he stares down at you. Memories of his terrified and maltreated mother finding her children cowering in a dark corner together flash in the forefront of his mind and he realizes then that he's made a mistake. He swore to not only his mother but his sisters, himself even that he'd never be that man. He swore he'd never hurt a woman but here you are rubbing your wrists. And it's not like the other night when he had your arms braced behind you. You weren't in pain then, just petrified of being manhandled. Reaching up, Bucky watched you wipe tears away, collecting yourself just enough and looking up at him,

"Where's Stark?" His tongue was caught in his throat,

"Doll I-"

"No! Where is Stark Mr. Barnes? I have other places to be." He didn't think his heart could break at the sound of your voice cracking and your eyes now cold and slowly drawing the shield he'd had knocked down back up. He swallowed, jutting his thumb over his shoulder,

"Basement. I'll show ya." Sadly leading you down the stairs and into the back room, down into the basement, he rounded a corner, gesturing to a passed out Stark tied to a chair. Keeping the zipties around his wrist, Bucky hoisted him up, staring down at your face as you looked him over. You avoided Bucky's eyes, holding your hand up when he opened his mouth,

"Don't. Just... go back to doing what you were doing. I'll leave you alone and you can just go about your side of the deal. No more death, no more bodies. Stark is behind bars and that's what we had an agreement on, nothing more." Taking Stark's arm in your hand, Bucky jumps in front of you as you start towards the door,

"Doll don't do this."

"I'm not your girlfriend! You don't own me and I'm a cop. This isn't going to work in any way and now that you've hurt me I can't." His heart breaks as you avoid his eyes still, tears filling them. He remembers in that moment what his mother looked like. He remembered how tired she looked. He remembered how exhausted and hurt she looked. He remembered the bruises and the busted lips that he always thought was her trying to make a stand but it was just when her overall appearance annoyed him. And now you're reflecting that same thing. And Bucky is the reason. His heart pounds when you look up at him,

"I'm... I'm sorry darlin." He speaks so low you almost don't hear him over the music upstairs. For once you can see the tough exterior he's built, crumbling. You can see the pain in his features and you know its personal but you refuse to touch on it. He steps forward, his shoes clacking along the thick cement, his hand coming up to rest at the back of your neck. Holding you in place, he leans in slowly, kissing your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin longer than they should. Stepping back he waves you up the stairs, following you, the mood between the two of you having gone from angry to sad. You could feel how much passion the both of you had put into such a brief relationship. You knew you were wrong walking into Bucky's bar. He knew he was wrong expecting the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen to lay her life down, kick her career aside and be his so easily. You both knew what you were getting into and you avoided the red flags. And now here you were, walking out of Bucky's bar and he wasn't sure he'd ever see you again. He followed you out into the cool night, watching you shove Stark into the back of your car, his arms still bound behind him. Bucky stood straight, staring up at the bright lights outside his club wondering if the life of scars, the life of crime and deceit was worth losing something so valuable like a life with you,

"Do you uhh... do you want me to come down to the station with you? Make sure he doesn't try an pull a fast one on ya?" You shake your head, looking him over from his feet to the top of his head. He was sharp. Suit and tie, polished shoes, soft, long hair cascading down his shoulders. When they say eyes are the windows to the soul, they really mean it, and Bucky's were scarred with the years of pain, but staring up into them, you could see the turmoil he was putting himself through over his actions within the past ten minutes. He'd hurt you and if he could go back he'd have done so many things different. He would have never laid a finger on you. He would've never gotten so angry. He would've never done any of it. He nodded, tucking his hands in his pockets again and looking at his feet, trying to hide all his raw emotion from you,

"Guess I'll uhh... I'll see ya around then." You nod, looking down at his shoes, your heart pounding as you realize that this is it.

"Yeah, I'll see ya. Don't make me come down here again." You don't see it, but he smiles in the dark. When you look up, he finds your eyes hauntingly cold. The you he fell in love with is gone. Her shell stands before him. The vessel of the warm soul is standing before him, closing him off and for once he fears it. He wants to grab you and hold your body to his, make that soul come back. He wants the spunk and the attitude, he wants you to do your worse. But instead he watches you walk away. He watches you climb in your car and start it, the emission from your tailpipe billowing up into the air. He watches you drive away from him, leaving him standing on the curb, hating himself. He promised his family he wouldn't become his father and now he was standing in overcast Brooklyn, watching you drive away after he hurt you. He deserved it. Bucky was familiar with the story of Adam and Eve and his consequence for eating the forbidden fruit was losing you.

Permanent Taglist: @embrace-themagic @mmeeggaannn @spiderman-n @winters-beauty @smexylemony 

Series Taglist: @ddaengboi @avengersassemblee @vogueworthy-barnes @teawithbucky @imnotcoolmasterrr @whaddaputa @akamaiden

[bigskydreaming]

LOL, any time I try and make plans or estimates, the universe is like hahahaha, surprise, fuck-o! so, you think I’d stop doing that but I never learn, OH WELL.

Anyway, obvsly didn’t update LC like I thought I was going to last week, but my previous intentions laid out in that post still hold, just....slower. Got yet another CT scan to get done today, so off to that in a few, but let’s call this Lightning Crashes, Chapter 6A for now, with the actual fic actually updated once all three parts of Chapter 6 are ready.

CHAPTER 6A

Two more anticlimactic weeks into the most exciting thing to ever happen to her, Kira was forced to come to one of two conclusions:

1) She was completely paranoid, delusional and a bit of a narcissist, convinced everyone and their mother was out to get her or at least drive her nuts

or

2) She really was the focus of some secret, shadowy government agency that employed adorable five foot tall freshmen with scraggly peach fuzz in place of the facial hair they were in a clear hurry to grow because who knows, masculinity merit badges or whatever. Boys are weird.

Anyway. It was definitely one of those two things. Problem was, she had no idea which.

She didn’t feel like she was in a super big hurry to get confirmation one way or the other though, no matter how crazy it was making her. So she made an abrupt heel turn and noped her way in the opposite direction when she saw Scott Vasquez waiting anxiously outside her English classroom.

Lurking, she meant. That was definite lurking behavior, no matter if said lurker was shuffling his feet, biting his lip and looking all sorts of nervous and cute while running a hand through his hair. The movement made the bicep beneath his long-sleeved shirt go all taut and…muscle-y. And…oh my god what was she doing, what was wrong with her, do not crush on your stalker Kira, he is not cute, what is your brain damage even. Maybe she had Stockholm Syndrome. Did that still count if he was just stalking her and hadn’t actually kidnapped her yet?

Yet? YET? Oh good god, where was an intervention when she needed one? She needed better friends, clearly, there would be no kidnapping, PERIOD, what the hell self, that is not relationship goals!

UGH WHY WAS SHE THINKING ABOUT A RELATIONSHIP IN THE CONTEXT OF WEIRDO CUTE BOY WHO WAS STALKING HER???

“Kira, wait up!” She heard Scott call out behind her and her skin did that weird tingling thing that made her blood start to buzz like liquid lightning crackling through her veins. Rude, even his voice was hot, it was all deep but soft and how dare evil government agencies employ not just cute boys but cute boys with hot, throaty voices, that was just genius and downright…insidious.

“Sorry, I’m late to class!” Kira yelled over her shoulder and quickened her steps. She could hear him jogging to keep up, not even breathing hard, because of course he was athletic too.

“Umm, I know, we’re in the same English class. It’s back that way?”

“No habla ingles!”

…she clearly was not qualified for like, any of this.

Scott pulled ahead of her and turned around so he was walking backwards. He held his hands out in front of him in an obvious effort to come off as safe and non-threatening, making no move to come any closer even when she skidded to a stop. He looked…concerned. And maybe even a little amused?

“What?” She snapped when seconds continued to tick by without another word from him. He blinked and then shook his head like coming out of a daze.

“Sorry, I just, that was kinda funny because we’re also in the same Spanish class, y’know?”

Her face burned. Right. That.

“Well, its not like I could pretend to speak anything else. Just because I’m Korean and Japanese doesn’t mean I actually speak either of those things, okay?”

His brow furrowed. “I didn’t assume you did?”

She deflated. Everyone always said the best defense was a good offense but nobody ever mentioned that staying on the offensive was really hard when the other person refused to get offended.

“Well. Good.”

He nodded then and took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. Which was all kinds of weird, because what did HE have to be nervous about? He was the one stalking HER!

“Okay, so. Look. I’m really sorry for like, all of this. We went about this all wrong and I don’t blame you for being freaked out and I’d like to start over and just…can we go somewhere and talk? And I can try and explain? Anywhere you want, just not…here here.”

That was not remotely something she was prepared for. Not that she was prepared for any of this. Whatever the hell this was. She took a step back, trying to gauge his sincerity even as she became aware for the first time that they were still in the middle of the hall and it was in between classes. While other students were giving them a wide berth, there was no shortage of curious glances being thrown their way. Her skin tingled again. She was not at all used to being the center of attention and this did not feel anywhere near as rewarding as it seemed in her occasional (well, rare, really rare) daydreams about being super popular.

After a few moments of consideration, she huffed an aggravated breath that blew stray hair out of her face and stomped over to an out of the way alcove where a little-used exit led to a small outdoor study area. She did not exude grace. Scott gave her a few seconds head start, and then when she stopped in the alcove and made no attempt to go outside, he hesitantly joined her in the out of the way doorway. Still in clear view of everyone in the hall but no longer right in the midst of everything.

He made an effort to still leave a few feet of separation between them, out of arms’ reach. Which she did not appreciate exactly, because she did not appreciate any of this and wanted that on record. But she did note it. Unfortunately, Kira also noted that the less threatening he became, the more aware of his obnoxious cuteness she became. And she was not a fan.

Its not like she’d ever spent a ton of time contemplating what her priorities would be should she ever star in some government conspiracy young adult dystopian adventure. But she’d always kinda assumed that at the very least she’d be able to go five seconds without concentrating on the way the mysterious secrecy boy in said adventure had soft brown eyes that managed to sparkle even though that was not an adjective normally associated with that particular eye color. Seriously, how was he doing that. Stop it.

Oh thank god, her ire was back.

“Look, I may not know what’s going on here, but let’s make one thing clear,” Kira hissed in a low voice. She was the one to close the distance between them, which…why, as she stepped forward and jabbed a finger at his chest. He didn’t flinch. She did though, kinda, because his pecs were like rock solid, what the hell, this was so unfair. “I don’t care who you are, but I, mister, am no Bella Swan.”

Scott blinked. His mouth fell open a little as he tilted his head, his eyes going distant and a little glazed as she could almost see his thoughts racing behind them, trying to figure something out. Then they focused again and he looked down at her with a frown.

“I don’t know who that is,” he admitted. “Is she in one of our classes?”

She stared. “What? No. Twilight?”

His frown deepened. He looked around the hall for a second, landing on a patch of sunlight on the floor beneath a window. Then he looked back at her, his eyes crinkling with something that vaguely registered as concern.

“Kira, it’s ten in the morning.”

What? “Yeah, I know. How do you not know what Twilight is? By Stephanie Meyer? Bella Swan, Edward Cullen, you seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”

Scott’s face cleared, eyes widening and cheeks darkening slightly. The top of his ears reddened. “Oh right, sorry,” he said, obviously embarrassed. Ew, now she felt bad and also he was back to being cute. Why was she even bothering at this point. “The book. Got it. Sorry, I haven’t read it. Is it good?”

Her brain had broken like, at least ten minutes ago, so she decided to let her mouth just do whatever. It’s not like an actual filter had contributed anything useful to this conversation.

“I mean, its not bad, but I wouldn’t call it good exactly. I was talking more about the movie anyway, but…oh my god this is not the point. I’m just…look, so there’s a girl in it and she gets involved in all this weird stuff because of the hot vampire boy in her class and it felt like there were parallels to this whatever that all this is. So I’m just saying, I am no Bella Swan because I think she gets a lot of criticism that’s not totally fair but at the same time she definitely makes choices that I think are dumb and that’s all. I was just clarifying that do not expect that I am someone who will make dumb choices just because. Ugh you know what, just forget it.”

She wanted to melt into a puddle five seconds after her brain did catch up and realized she’d basically told him she’d categorized him as her hot YA love interest. But in the one bit of good fortune bestowed on her and her dignity today, that was not the part he’d fixated on. If anything, he looked weirdly insulted.

“Wait, do you think I’m a vampire?”

She stared at him helplessly.

“You know what, I don’t even care if you’re gonna axe murder me or abduct me to take part in some weird government experiments. Fine, let’s have your freaking conversation. Come on.”

[dreamworksworddump]

Pavlov’s dogs part 3

Lance ties his hair into a small ponytail at the back of his neck, and then settles into a defensive position; legs spread slightly, knees bent, his hands raised to guard his face. His body is not tensed, but held loosely, like a dancer about to break into movement. A small smile graces his lips, something about it mischievous, like it’s on the verge of turning into a smirk. There is nothing about this that Pidge hasn’t seen before, but there must be something, because why else would seeing him like this make her suddenly feel so hot?

Her ears and cheeks feel flushed, more so than a simple bout of cardio should be cause for. There’s a feeling in the depths of her stomach like the start of a fire- warm, and yearning. Pidge swallows uncomfortably, and takes a deep breath. Lance waits for Keith to make his move.

Behind her eyelids, she sees the highlights of the past few months flash before her; skin against skin, the feeling of something more than friendship, and there- it’s almost so obvious that she wants to kick herself for not noticing it sooner. Lance’s hair has grown longer since they’ve been away from Earth, and while Allura keeps Pidge’s hair at the same length, Lance hasn’t cut it at all. Instead he’s taken to tying it back when it gets in the way, like when they’re about to engage in- blood pulses in her ears as Lance laughs, breezily avoiding Keith’s uppercut like a leaf on the wind- when they’re about to have sex.

Keith’s lips curl into something like a grimace as he falls back. His strengths lie in his brawn, usually underestimated by his opponents, and in his ability to sniff out his opponent’s weaknesses, and go after them relentlessly. That’s great in life or death fight, which more often than not, is what Voltron is up against. But in a sparring match against a friend, or against someone that he need to disable rather than kill, it leads to hesitation. Lance isn’t a defensive fighter, but he does know the value of waiting to attack rather than rushing in. He likes to draw out his opponents strength by taunting him, and running out his endurance, and due to his years of dancing instruction, he has the agility to do so, remaining just tantalizingly out of reach until he feels that it is time to strike. However, he has a lack of long term strategy, and usually falls back on the same patterns over and over again, making it easy for an attentive opponent to figure him out. Against each other, Keith and Lance are pretty well-matched, and it is hard to tell who will come out on top when they go head to head.

Pidge keeps focusing on the wrong things; Lance’s face, the swell of his biceps, the rippling of his lithe muscles beneath his shirt. She should be paying attention to his technique, to his evasive maneuvers and Keith’s answering aggression, not the things that look visually appealing. She knows what she should be thinking about, but it’s like the correct thoughts are just out of reach. Her eyes keep drifting to the little ponytail, and that mischievous grin no matter how hard she tries to concentrate elsewhere.

Her thighs clench together, and she struggles not to squirm as a small wave of pleasure runs through her.

Lance waits for Keith to charge him, and side steps his attack. He attempts to elbow him in his back to force him to the ground, but Keith takes the strike as he turns around, violet eyes burning above his gloved fists. Lance steps lightly, shifting from foot to foot, as Keith jabs at him- uppercut, left swing, right swing- that grin of his remaining in place the whole time.

He grins as he leans over her, all length and lanky muscle, his eyes shifting from her exposed chest, to her blushing face. Lance winks, and he shifts down under the covers, nudges her knees apart, and then suddenly there is-

“Are you okay?” Hunk whispers behind a cupped hand. “You look really red.”

“I’m fine.” Hunk gives her a look, and she sighs. Better to give him a bone then have him looking too closely into the correlation between Lance’s appearance and her sudden onset of awkwardness. “I’m feeling a little overheated. I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Hmm. Okay. Feel better.” His gaze returns to the ongoign sparring session. Pidge quietly slips off of the bench and out into the hall. Maybe a nice, long shower will calm her down until she can get ahold of Lance and…. She sighs and shakes her head. She’s not sure what she’ll do, but she’ll do something alright.

By the time Pidge is done with her shower, Lance is already in his room in the midst of his usual after-workout facials. She considers waiting for him to finish up, but decides that she doesn’t have the patience for it, and starts down the hall. The ground is cold against her bare feet, and the gentle woosh of air conditioning against her skin has her feeling chilled. She crosses her arms as she reaches his door, and knocks twice.

“M’ busy.”

She knocks harder.

“Oh,” He steps in the doorway as it slides open. “It’s you.”

Pidge scowls as she brushes past him. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

“Eh,” Lance flops on his bed, his housecoat flying open to reveal his bare chest, and blue boxers. “You made me lose the match today, so I think it’s fair.”

“I left. How could I have possibly made you lose?”

Lance sticks his hands behind his damp hair, and shrugs. “I mean, the show was all for you. Once you left, it kinda wasn’t as fun.”

“Still wasn’t my fault you lost.”

“And I’m still blaming you.”

Pidge rolls her eyes, and flops on the bed next to him. “I had a good reason for that anyway.”

“Which is?” He asks as he grabs a rag to wipe his facemask off. It stains the towel bright green. He misses a few spots around his hairline, she notes as he tosses the rag aside. She catches it before it hits the ground, and rubs them away. “Thanks,” Lance catches her hands and kisses her knuckles. “But seriously. What’s your reason?”

Pidge takes a deep breath, and words come spilling out right after like water spilling from a dam. “So, you know how with Pavlov’s dogs, he rung a bell before feeding them? And then every time he rung a bell, they’d salivate, even when there was no food?”

Lance raises an eyebrow, then after a moment, nods. “Yeah?”

“So before you eat me out, you always pin your hair back.”

“And?”

“And you pinned your hair back in training earlier, and it’s still pinned up.”

Lance shrugs. “Am I missing something here?”

“So when I saw you with your hair pinned up,” Pidge wonders how people actually manage to say this kind of stuff without melting into a puddle of human embarrassment, and decides that must be either mentally indestructible, or desperate. She herself falls into the desperate category. She take a deep breath and says in one breath. “IGotWet.”

“Are you- you’re saying that you’ve been conditioned to get wet when my hair is up?” He laughs and flicks the little ponytail. “Well, maybe I should wear my hair up more often.”

Pidge slaps his arm, and tries her best not to pout when he leans forward and flicks her nipple in retaliation. “Don’t you dare.” She says, catching his hand before he can do the same to the other. “It’s bad enough as it is.”

“It?” Lance cups her crotch and presses hard against her. She shudders, and grinds down on him almost mindlessly. “I dunno,” Lance grins as he fingers her bra strap. He examines the beige elastic material like it’s something interesting, and then releases it. It snaps back, leaving a red mark on her pale skin. “I think I like it.”

She could say something snappy, something to make him think twice about his teasing her, but she doubts that that would make him inclined to stop his teasing and get to it already.

“You made this problem,” Her words are supposed to be more demanding, less like whining, but they come out like a beggar asking for water on a hot summer’s day. “You need to deal with it.”

Lance grin’s like a cat who’s caught a mouse between his clawed paws as he shoves her back against the bed. She huffs at his sudden roughness, but doesn’t get a chance to protest. He tugs her shirt until the buttons pop open, and ducks his head into the valley of her breasts to lick a hot stripe right up to her neck. If it had been any other day, any other time, she might have complained at his audacity, at his roughness, at the kind of ick that briefly followed his action, but right now, she is running so hot, she doesn’t care. He licks her right nipple, and then cups her tit in his hand, squeezing as he creates a trail of kisses leading from her chest to her neck to her ear.

His breath is hot as he says, “Am I ‘dealing with it’ right?”

Lance’s other hand caresses the sensitive line above the top of her panties, back and forth, back and forth. Her hips arch into the touch, and she squirms beneath his touch.

She bites her lip to stop herself from whimpering as she chokes out, “I’ll let you know when you finish.”

Lance tilts his head to the side. His eyes drift over her lazily, never halting anywhere for too long. His hand keeps moving on her breast, kneading carefully, as he decides where exactly he wants to pull the string to take her apart. His eyes smoulder as he kisses her softly, his tongue slipping into her mouth gently as his free hand slips under her waistband, and into her heat.

“You do that.” Lance teases as he rubs his thumb across her clit. She jolts, and he pulls his hand back. She pouts, and he holds up a finger. “I want to reinforce that ‘conditioning’ of yours.”

“Tease.” She gasps as he peels them away. “No, come ‘ere.”  Her fingers dance over the lithe muscles of his arms as he leans closer, closer; she touches the broadness of his shoulders, wraps her arms around him and pulls him closer.

His blue eyes survey her face as he dips down and kisses her, gently taking her lower lip in his, testing the skin with his blunt teeth. Pidge kisses back, arching toward him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tries to keep him there. He pulls back, but she doesn’t release him.

Lance laughs, and the sound is like audible sunshine. It brightens the room, makes her feel like laughing too. “I can’t exactly ‘finish’ if you won’t let me get started.”

“I know.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?”

 “Kiss me again.” Pidge says it like a spoiled child demanding candy, and like a fool, Lance gives it to her. He kisses her again, kisses the side of her mouth, pretends that that wasn’t a mistake and makes a trail down her neck, hot and blazing.

“Can I move on to your concha now?”

Pidge feels breathless. The words come out haltingly. “I- Uh- I, um. Yes.”

“I mean, really.  You’ve been such a tease today.” He spreads her thighs apart gently, and tsks. “You’ve been wet since training this morning, haven’t you?” Lance leans down, and she sees it, that little ponytail at the nape of his neck, tied away with a twice broken hair tie. He nudges her legs apart, and digs in.

No matter which way she puts it or how she looks at it, Lance is a teenage boy with no real experience with, well, anyone besides herself. He doesn’t have much skill, and neither does she. All that the two of them really have is enthusiasm, and the desire to do it, no matter how much trial and error it takes to get there. Fortunately for her, one thing Lance has plenty of is enthusiasm.

He eats at her like she’s the best tasting thing in the world. Lance doesn’t seem to notice that more often than not, he misses her clit. His tongue brushes the side of it, the bottom half, very rarely the center of the thing. He has her drenched in a mix of spit and arousal due to a lack of aim. Pidge’s hands grasp the sides of his head, holding him still as the first waves of orgasm run through her body. She bites her lip as he keeps writhing, keeps moving, even as her thighs tighten around him.

Her hands loosen as she finishes, and Lance leans back, his face darkened with blush and slick with spit. He wipes his face on the back of his hand, and leans back on his hands. His boxers are tented, a small flagpole holding up a sea of blue.

“I can- I think I can condition you too.” She slides her glasses off, and sets them on the bedside table. Pidge gets to her knees, slides a leg between his, and knocks him onto his back. “If you’re gonna be a tease all the time, don’t think I can’t be one too.”

There’s this little slit in men’s boxers. She knows that the logical explanation is that it’s for easy access for biological reasons, but isn’t it interesting how easy it is to slip his dick through that little hole, wrap her fist around the base, and stick it in her mouth.

It doesn’t taste like much to talk about. Salty, kind of, but with a weight that fills her mouth and rests heavy on her tongue. It’s not much to talk about, but the way that it makes Lance groan and twitch beneath her makes it the best thing she’d ever done.

Half of it is enough to fill her mouth comfortably, the other, still gripped in her palm. She briefly considers copying one of those cheesy pornos she knows he has on his phone, but decides that she’d prefer to not hit her gag reflex and ruin the whole sexy vibe with her sudden nausea and subsequent vomiting. She pulls back slowly, keeping her lips tight around his cock, and then lowers herself again. Spit spills down his shaft, makes her hand slide easier. Lance’s hands reach for her hair, then settles on the bed. Even now, even when he’s supposed to so out of his mind he can’t even tell what decade he’s in (as reported by the last girly magazienze she’d read), he’s concerned about her. If she could laugh, she would.

Pidge takes his hand and brings it back to her hair, holds it there until his fingers knot into her hair, holds the side of her face and holds her steady as he thrusts forward, never quite hitting the back of her throat, never quite so hard that it’s uncomfortable. He leans forward a little bit, catches her eyes right before he cums. If her mouth weren’t full, she’d be grinning.

When he finishes, and she’s done spitting it out into the bathroom sink, and the two of them are getting sleepy in the mess of blankets and pillows on the bed, she lays her head on his chest, and says, “If it’s like this everytime, I don’t think I’ll mind the ponytail that much.”

Lance wears his hair tied up three times the next week. In training again, at midnight when she went to the kitchen for a midnight snack, and once, he put it up spontaneously in the hallway when they’d stumbled into each other after a mission.

The day after that incident, she takes her glasses off, and leaves them there, and watches through a blurry gaze as he struggles to hide his boner during the rest of the Princess’s lecture.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Quiet (Part Three)

A Bucky X Fem!Reader series. 3/16

Summary: Steve Rogers makes an accidental discovery while on a simple hydra base raid. You. He brings you back to the Avengers Tower where they all try to figure you out. Your... interesting way of communicating makes that especially hard. Until one super-soldier proves otherwise.

Series warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Pregnancy, Injuries, Violence, Sickness, a few mild spoilers (maybe), Nudity, Embarrassment,

Chapter warnings: Partial nudity, embarrassment, Fluff

Word Count: 1,888

A/N: Nothing :)

Part One  Part Two  Part Three

You wake up in a strangely soft bed.

Confused, you stretch out, sighing happily.

The previous day rushes into your mind and you sit up to make sure it's all real. You stand up and press your hand against the wall.

F.R.I.D.A.Y?

"Yes miss?"

You smile.

Where's Steve?

"He's on the second floor in the gym with Agent Barnes."

You process that information as you get dressed and brush your teeth and hair.

Once you're ready, you get into the elevator and press the button for the second floor. The elevator moves quickly and before you know it, the doors are opening.

You walk into a gym and watch quietly as Steve and Bucky spar.

You lean against the wall and watch the two of them intently.

Bucky blocks Steve's punches and sends a few back, blocking his face and ducking under a kick.

"Okay Buck. Timeout," Steve pants, his shirt clinging to his chest with sweat.

He glances at you and waves you over.

"Good morning."

You nod your reply to him and smile.

"What's got you down here so early?" He asks curiously. You place your hand on his bicep.

I don't sleep too much. But the reason I'm down here is because I was looking for you.

He smiles, obviously flattered. "Me? Why?" 

Because you're the one I'm most comfortable with.

"Well I won't be much company. Bucky and I are sparring right now.  But feel free to watch." You nod and sit down on a piece of exercise equipment and watch again as the two of them spar.

Each move they make puts you more and more on the edge of your seat. They move with such grace and so fast that you can't help but stare in awe.

Bucky and Steve stop again and you look away quickly as they take off their shirts. You hear them chuckle and your face heats.

"You can look. It's fine." You shake your head at Steve and flutter your fingers. You feel them brush against his chest and you pull them away quickly.

"You'll need to look at him if you want to find his skin Doll," Bucky says.

Your face flushes even brighter at the nickname and you stare at your fingers until they meet his shoulder.

I've hardly seen my own body. A body of the opposite sex...

You stop and shake your head, earning another chuckle from Steve.

"It's alright. Bucky and I aren't going to judge you if you-" Bucky cuts his friend off, "Admire the fine art." You grin and look at him, your ears bruning hot as you look over his muscular body. He laughs and runs a hand through his hair.

"So. I'm assuming you haven't seen many guys' bodies in your lifetime?"

You shake your head at Bucky’s question, causing him to chuckle.

"Apparently she's never seen a guys body... clothes-less before," Steve says.

Bucky flexes his muscles teasingly, "well I hope I don't dissapoint."

You muster up your confidence and walk to him, placing your fingertips on his bulging forearm.

Trust me, you don't.

He laughs and ruffles your hair with his metal hand. "That's what I like to hear. So how're you liking the tower so far?" He asks, glancing over your shoulder at Steve.

It's... spacious. Filled with people. And the chances of being killed by the people here are a lot smaller.

He chuckles and nods. "Well I'd be careful about Nat. She tends to get kinda..." He makes a strange sound and you smile.

"I can show you around if you want. Help you get more comfortable with your surroundings," he suggests out of the blue. You rest your hand gently on his arm to let your emotions show into what you're thinking.

I'd like that quite a bit. Thank you.

He smiles and nods. "No problem. Just let me get changed. I'll be back out in a few minutes." He jogs into the change rooms and you smile at his undeniable friendliness.

"Bucky's a good guy. If there's one person who'll make you feel comfortable here it's him." Steve's positive remarks about his friend make you feel even better. You press your hand to his shoulder.

I can tell we'll get along. And I can tell that you care about him a great deal.

Steve nods and looks over his shoulder as Bucky walks back into the room. 

His shoulder length hair is slicked back and a few drops of water drip down his neck from the brief shower he just took. "You ready to get going?" He asks, coming next you and smiling. You nod and let him show you to the elevator.

"As I'm sure you've figured out, that was the gym. Most of the other floors are just rooms and offices. You've seen the common area only briefly so I'll show it to you more in depth." 

Your silent ways don't bother him and when silence does happen to fall upon the two of you, he doesn't try to break it; he simply let's it happen.

The elevator doors open and he guides you out. "Most people are still sleeping. So it's a perfect time to show you around,” he says, smiling at Vision briefly. 

"Mister Barnes, do you often forget that I do not require sleep? I spend my nights with Wanda." An almost giggle escapes your lips and Bucky smiles at the sound, loving the fact that you're getting more comfortable.

"You hungry?" He asks, guiding you to the kitchen. You reach out to him and he holds his flesh arm out to you.

If it isn't too much to ask for. A piece of bread would suffice. Maybe a glass of water.

Bucky scoffs and shakes his head. "I'm in the mood for waffles. You wanna have some? I'm making them anyway." He adds the last part after noticing you start to shake your head.

If you're offering, I would love maybe... half a waffle.

He grins and sits you down on a bar stool. "If you ever want to ask anything or say anything, just wave. Do some crazy or obscene hand gesture and you'll get my attention."

You smile and flutter your fingers at him. He reaches out to you and you press your palm against his wrist.

Tell me what it's like. Living here with all these people. What are they all like?

He chuckles and starts grabbing ingredients. "Well, they're all very welcoming. Had it not been for their hospitality, I'd probably still be an awkward hermit with long greasy hair and not so designer bags under my eyes. But after getting to know them..." He trails off and glances at you. "Let's just say that they each have their own... interesting personalities." You grin at that and motion for him to continue.

"Sam for example. He's a nuisance. Loves to make fun of people but he does it light-heartedly. Uh... Steve and Tony are totally the father figures. To Peter mostly. But they take care of all of us. Pietro and Clint have been... quarreling since before I got here. Wanda's a sweetheart and Vision’s... well... he's as much as can be expected from artificial intelligence." 

He chuckles to himself and continues cooking. 

"Peter... he's a kid. Nat's fun, daring. Bruce is quiet. Thor is... straight out of Norse mythology." He finishes and stirs something before turning to you and offering you his arm.

Are you... are there any relationships amongst these people?

You blush slightly as he chuckles. "Wanda and Vis are together, have been for a while... Nat and Clint have been on and off. And... that's about it. I mean I'm sure Sam's gonna try to get with you but if I were you I wouldn't let him. He's not worth your time. I can guarantee he'll have around three girls over before the end of the week." You raise your eyebrows and scoff lightly.

"So you make sounds but you don't speak?" He asks after another moment. You nod and inhale deeply, suppressing a moan as an incredible smell fills your nostrils. 

"Smells good, don't it? I've always had a gift for cooking. Mostly breakfast foods though," he gloats. 

You smile and watch as he grabs an armful of fruits and toppings out of the humongous refrigerator. He sets them on the counter and puts a plate of two huge waffles in front of you.

"Strawberries, syrup and whipped cream on them is really good,” he whispers, looking up at you from under his lashes. 

"Doesn't matter what those things are on. Whatever going down is gonna be good." You look up at the voice, a faint blush heating your cheeks. "Good morning Sam. Thank you for that comment." Bucky shoots a glare at the man.

"Anytime. So how's sweet cheeks fitting in?" He puts his arm over your shoulder. You shudder and pull away from him. 

"Leave her alone Sam." Bucky pushes Sam away from you. "Shouldn't you be going for a run? Having Steve pass by your left about a dozen times?" Sam rolls his eyes and grabs a water bottle out of the fridge. 

"Yeah, actually. Just dropped by to say hi. Grab some water. Flirt with the new girl. But I'll be leaving now." With that, Sam waltzes out of the room. 

You turn back to Bucky and raise your eyebrows before touching his arm lightly.

I've Um. .. never really made myself food before. Could you help me with the... placement of toppings? Please?

He smiles and nods, pulling your plate in front of himself. He tops the waffles nicely then pushes the plate back to you.

Thank you.

He shivers at your unexpected touch and glances at you. 

"Anytime." 

His response is earnest and filled with an emotion you can't pin. You brush it off as friendliness and cut a small square of waffle. You gently place it on your tongue, a sound of pure pleasure leaving you as the flavours explode in your mouth. 

"It's good?" He asks. You nod vigorously and shovel a full fork of food into your mouth.

Bucky watches you in amusement as you eat. 

And eat. 

And eat. 

When the two huge waffles are gone, you wipe your mouth with a napkin and glance at the Super Soldier beside you. 

"That was... impressive." You giggle quietly then sigh. He holds his arm out to you for feedback and you press your hand against it.

I've never eaten anything that amazing in my life. I've never eaten that much in my entire life.

He chuckles and picks up your plate. "Well I'm glad you enjoyed it." He cleans up and you watch him in slight awe.

When he's finished he offers you his metal hand. Hesitantly you take it, tilting your head to the side. 

You hear nothing.

He grins and guides you to the couch. 

You sit down beside him and watch as he puts some random show on TV, his metal hand resting on your knee.

Part Four

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