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sinner-as-saint · 3 years ago

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Somebody Else

(Mob AU) Cherry!Seb x Reader

Run-through: You decide that it’s high time to tell your boyfriend about the other man in your life, because you couldn’t lie nor keep it a secret anymore. And needless to say, he doesn’t take it very well.

Themes: angst, smut, jealous!seb, fluff

a/n: for those confused, ‘cherry!seb’ is mob!seb, we just gave him a name because well, click here

You were so anxious that it was hard to breathe for a little while.

The moment you heard his car entering the gates, you shot up from the couch and rushed down the stairs. You had been thinking about this for a while now, but tonight was the right time. You couldn’t lie anymore. And it hurt you each time you had to refrain yourself from bringing it up on the phone.

Just as you reached the foyer, you watched Seb walk in - the notorious mob boss who was mean, and ruthless and cruel to anyone else but you. To you, he was everything you could ask for.

He smiled the moment his eyes met yours. “Hi babygirl.” He opened his arms and engulfed you in a warm, tight bear hug. He had been away for work for days, and right now all he wanted was to be home with you.

“Hi baby. Welcome home.” You nuzzled his neck and inhaled his absolutely delicious cologne. You pulled away to look up at him but he was busy scanning your outfit.

He frowned for a brief moment, “Are we going somewhere?” He couldn’t help but ask because although you always looked beautiful, the little sundress you were wearing was absolutely stunning.

You linked your arm with his as you two walked further into your home. “Nope.” You answered, and bit down on your lip as you looked up at him.

He stopped and grabbed you by the waist to pull you closer to give you a sweet kiss on the lips. He pulled away gently, “So you got all dressed up just for me?” You nodded at his question and he chuckled, leaning in to kiss the side of your mouth again. “You know, as much as I appreciate you looking extra pretty for me, all I wanna do it get you out of this dress and-,”

“No,” You whined playfully, pulling away. “Not happening. Go freshen up, I made dinner.” You watched how his brows furrowed a little at you.

“Okay…” His reply sounded more like a question. “Did I forget something, baby? Our anniversary is in December, your birthday is next month and we-,”

You cut him off again, he was stressed out you could tell. “You didn’t forget anything. You’ve been working a lot lately, you’ve been away from home a lot. I just wanted to do something nice for when you get back.” You whispered, grabbing him by his face and pulling him in for a kiss.

He moaned into the kiss and tightened his arms around you, feeling your warm body beneath the dress. “You didn’t have to do anything. You make me feel so much better just by being here with me.” He whispered, his voice deeper, as he kissed his way down your neck. His touch was very persuasive and you almost gave in but then you remembered…

“Okay,” You giggled as you pulled away. “Don’t ruin my plans, now go shower. I’ll be waiting,” You pulled away from his embrace and he groaned as you walked away from him. You turned to face him one last time before you walked into the open kitchen, “And you better be back before I finish my first glass of wine.” You winked at him.

He bolted. Ran upstairs as fast as he could, smiling to himself and wondering how he got so lucky.

Seb showed up sometime later, showered and relaxed; smelling even better. You watched him enter the kitchen, his body moving slowly but confidently - dressed in nothing but just dark grey sweatpants. You bit your lip again as he walked over to you and tried to get all cozy again but you pushed him away playfully.

Midway through dinner, he looked up at you and took your hand in his. “This is torture.” He murmured, taking a sip of wine while rubbing slow circles on the back of your hand.

You smirked. “What, I made your favorite dinner, opened your favorite wine. How is that torture?” You knew you had to get him in the right mood before telling him all that you had to say.

He studied your face for a while, narrowing his eyes at you. “Is there something you want? Babygirl, you know all you have to do is ask. Whatever it is, I’ll get you.” He spoke, then lifted your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean? I make us dinner all the time, why does this seem suspicious to you?”

He playfully nipped at your finger. “Because I know you too well. And I know you’re up to something.”

You pulled your hand away to pick up your fork again. “Well I’m not, now eat up.”

Dinner was just as perfect as you wanted it to. And another glass of wine later, you and Seb found yourselves on the couch in the living room, watching a movie - barely, because Seb was having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Each time he slid his hand under your dress, you pushed his hand away. You purposely dodged each one of his kisses, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he snaps. But you needed to get him desperate enough to where you’d have his whole attention.

“Babygirl,” he whined, pulling you on his lap again, “Give me a kiss, come on.” He grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back, wondering if you should just tell him now.

You pulled away from his kiss and straddled him, he looked up at you with the same curious look he’s had all evening. “Okay,” you took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Seb raised an eyebrow at you. “See? I knew it. I knew you were up to something.” He almost purred as he ran his hands up and down your thighs.

You inched closer to him, and cupped his face in your hands so you had his undivided attention. “I love you, you know that, right? I will always love you, no matter what.”

He blinked at you, nodding.

You kept going. “And whatever happened, it was… it was so unexpected. I wouldn’t call it a mistake but I- I didn’t think it through at the moment. But that doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

He sat up a little straighter, grabbing your hips so you don’t fall off his lap. He blinked once again. “Baby, what are you talking about?” His heart raced just a little. He had no idea where this was going.

You sighed, and looked down at his bare chest. You brought your hand down and traced along his freckles and indents of his muscles. “Um, recently you’ve been gone a lot. And I’m fine with it really, I mean I know you work so much and how important work is for you. But I… I was so lonely and vulnerable at the time and he just-,”

Seb cut you off with a look of horror on his face. “He? Who’s ‘he’?” He looked like he was confused, angry and surprised all at once.

“Baby, just listen, okay? It didn’t mean anything, it’s not… I wasn’t supposed to get attached but then you know, I-,”

Seb cut you off by sitting up straighter and he grabbed both your wrists and held them away from his face. “Attached? To who? You… you found somebody else?”

You sighed, “Baby… I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

His eyes widened. “What the hell are you talking about? Did you- do you… did you cheat on me?” His voice cracked a little by the end.

You lowered your head in shame. “I… I met him through a friend, they know each other and he was staying with her until he found a new place. And he came along with her when I invited them for dinner the other night. You were away at that time, and I… it wasn’t supposed to but it just happened.”

Seb repeated your words in his mind. It just happened… it just happened?

He grabbed your thigh and pushed you to the side, gently. His movements were so slow as he got up from the couch with a frown on his face. “What… what do you mean ‘it just happened’?” He walked a few steps away, stopping by the fireplace and then turned to look at you. You sat criss-cross on the couch, lowering your face still. “Look at me!” You could hear the disbelief in his voice.

You lifted your head up to look at him. His body flushed with the anger he was having trouble containing. He ran his fingers through his short hair, his muscles flexing as he did.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured.

He looked at you like the apology only drove another dagger through his heart. “You’re sorry?” He sounded defeated. “You cheat on me, and that’s all you have to say? That you’re sorry?”

“Babe, I-,”

He snapped. “Don’t call me that!” He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair again as he paced in front of the fireplace. “Why.. how did- when did you…” he stopped rambling. Too many thoughts ran through his mind all at once. He was having trouble breathing, and his head was pounding - he felt like he was going to be sick.

“When they came over for dinner that night, uh, we all had a little too much to drink and I couldn’t let them drive back home so I offered that they spend the night and leave in the morning. And that’s when I… I got to know him a little more and…” You looked at Seb and found him staring at you, his heart breaking, “and that’s when-,”

“Enough.” He looked away, hands on his waist. “So you just- why are you even telling me this right now? Why tell me at all? Because you couldn’t live with yourself, or is it… is it because you’re in love with him or something?”

Your silence gave him the answer he needed.

“What the fuck? You’re just gonna throw away all we had for this dude? Who the hell is he anyways? You know I’m gonna find out who he is and I’m gonna make sure it hurts when I-,”

You got up from the couch and walked over to him, placing your hands on either side of his waist. His skin was warmer than usual. “Seb please, I care about him.”

Seb looked at you like you spoke some other language. “What bullshit is this?” His heart was beating like crazy, an unpleasant chill dancing down his spine as he felt the tips of his fingers getting numb. “You… you what? Are you-,” He stopped talking abruptly, panic showing all over his face briefly before it was replaced by burning anger. He pushed your hands away from his body. “Is he… is he here right now?” He gestured upstairs. “Are you keeping him here? Has he been here this whole time?”

“Baby, just listen okay? He needed a place to-,”

Seb cut you off by rushing past you and rushing to the drawer where he kept a spare gun, always. You ran after him.

“Seb, wait.” You caught up with him at the stairs. “Just wait, okay, I-,”

He cut you off by grabbing your wrist and tugging you along as he rushed up the stairs. “So not only do you cheat on me, but you let him stay in our own home?” He sounded like he was trying so hard not to unleash the beast inside at you. “What did you think, you were gonna convince me and all three of us would live happily ever after?”

You remained quiet, you hadn’t expected this to turn so violent so soon.

When you reached the landing upstairs, Seb pushed you against the wall, almost growling in anger as he caged you in. “I’ll deal with you later, babygirl. But first I’m gonna deal with your little boy toy and I’m gonna make you watch as I hurt him.” He meant it, every single word. “Where is he?” he asked, his voice dropping so low that you visibly shivered.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Don’t hurt him.” You murmured and his hands were shaking with all the emotions that he was having trouble dealing with all at once.

He chuckled, darkly. You looked into his eyes and they had darkened too. “Don’t tell me what to do, babygirl. Do you really think you can protect him?” He leaned in closer, his lips just inches away from yours, “Where is he?” He asked slowly.

There was no way for you to get out of this one. “The… guest room.”

Seb didn’t move for a few seconds, his brain still processing all of what just happened in the span of a few minutes. His heart was breaking more and more with each passing moment. “I’m gonna burn this whole house down,” he grabbed your wrist again, tugging you further down the hallway and towards the guest room, “With him in it.” He growled the last bit.

He gave you a piercing look as you reached the guest room. He let go of your hand and cocked his gun. He didn’t even think twice as he burst through the door, “You piece of-,”

You heard how his voice died down into a groan. You pushed open the door even wider and took a step further in, you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe. You giggled at the sight in front of you.

Seb clutched his chest as he fell onto his knees on the floor, exhaling loudly and lowering his head to the floor. And in front of him was the little ball of black and white fur - your new pup, a baby Border Collie.

Your friend was fostering him, and she brought the pup along when she came over for dinner the other night and told you about how he needed a forever home. You hadn’t thought about having a dog just yet, but when you saw this little baby that night, you knew you had to keep him. So you did, and you hadn’t told Seb about it right away.

And well, he just found out.

“Isn’t he handsome?” You asked, and upon hearing your voice, the little one yelped and ran over to you on its little legs. You giggled as you picked him up and walked further into the room, which was filled with everything a dog could need. You went over and knelt right in front of Seb, holding up the pup, making them both face each other.

“Don’t burn the house down. I’m sorry I cheated on you with this handsome boy.” You teased.

Seb finally lifted his head to look at you both. He hissed, “I think I’m having a heart attack. Or my blood pressure is really really high.” He locked his gun and tossed it to the side. “Woman, you’re killing me.”

You rolled your eyes at Seb. “Oh stop your theatrics.” You looked down at your new dog, stroking his soft fur. “Did you really think I would cheat on you?” When you looked back up at your boyfriend, he was looking down at the dog.

“You scared me for a moment. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t think, I just...” He groaned. “You really know how to mess with me, don’t you?”

You giggled, and he threw you a dirty look before picking up the pup from your arms to inspect it better. “So this little guy kept you company while I was gone?” The little one yelped and started licking Seb’s chin eagerly. “I think I’ll forgive him, good thing he’s cute.”

You watched them both, smiling like crazy. “I named him Kenny.”

You then spent the next hour explaining how you got the dog and hung out with your new pet, until Kenny fell asleep. And while you stepped out of the room, Seb grabbed you and pushed you against the wall again, just outside the guest room.

“I hope you know that had there been a guy in there, I would shoot him first and ask questions later.” He whispered before pressing his lips to yours.

You smiled into the kiss, giggling when he bit down on your lip. “You crazy man,” You pulled away to look into his eyes. “I love you, I wouldn’t do that to you, to us.”

“Hmm,” he leaned in to kiss your neck. “Don’t you dare leave me.” He mumbled against your skin. “I mean it.”

“Else you’re gonna burn this house down?” You teased him for his dramatic threat earlier.

He groaned, pinching your butt and making you squeal. “Or I’m gonna burn this whole city to the ground,” he corrected you, “And everyone in it.” He added, making you chuckle as you pulled him in for another kiss.

Seb had gotten rid of your dress before you even made it to your bedroom.

You laughed as you made him chase you around the room, and he groaned each time he missed you. “Come here, you little-,” He finally caught you and pinned you down on the bed, straddling you and gripping your wrists in his hands as he leaned down to kiss you. “You better make up for almost giving me a stroke, babygirl.” He murmured.

You gasped as he bit down on your neck, kissing and licking along your throat. “And you better make up for being away so much.” You sassed.

He chuckled. “Well then, we both have a lot to make up for it seems.”

Seb placed his mouth on top of yours to swallow your whimpers and moans as he pushed his cock into you. He groaned as he pushed himself fully into you. He lifted his head and watched you grimace in pleasure and pain as his cock stretched you out. He watched you in awe as your lips parted and you moaned his name once he filled you up nicely.

You whined as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you with a slightly bigger force.

He groaned at the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, squeezing and clenching around him. You heard him swear and felt him bite down on your lip as he sped up into you. He tugged on your lips and he started moving his hips; rocking into you slowly, then gradually increasing his speed. Your back arched off the surface of the bed again and your chest pressed to his.

He moaned into your ear. “You’re mine.”

“Baby…” You were a moaning mess under him in no time. There was something about the way he kissed you, deeply and passionately; as though he was scared you might just get away from him.

He worshipped your body. He mumbled how good you felt in your ear, groaning as you bucked your hips to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He kissed you roughly as he pounded into you; fingers wrapped around your throat. He fucked you raw and relentlessly, watching how your face morphed into frowns of pleasure.

He pressed his forehead on yours; looking down to where your bodies connected so intimately. Then he pulled away to look into your eyes with that animalistic, primal and fiery look in his eyes. His lips parted as he panted while he fucked you like he owned you.

“You missed me, didn’t you, babygirl?”

You nodded, whining in pleasure. He smirked. His hand left your neck and slid in between your connected bodies and furiously rubbed your clit, earning a loud moan out of you.

“Say it, baby. Tell me how much you missed my cock buried deep inside you…”

You couldn’t talk as the pressure in between your legs became too much to handle, and you craved for release.

He cooed, “Missed me so much it had you acting up. Scheming for ways to torture me for being away from you for so long…” a dark chuckle followed his words, “For not being here to fuck this greedy little cunt, huh?”

He noticed that you were too much in a haze to respond. So he just slipped his tongue back into your mouth and took your bottom lip between his teeth again.

“Come on, cum for me babygirl…,” he swore as he felt you clench around him perfectly. You came hard around him, moaning and whimpering under him as he finished right after you; kissing your swollen lips deeply as he came.

He pushed his face into the crook of your neck as he caught his breath. And you cradled his head; panting as well. Your fingers gently massaged his scalp as he calmed his racing heart. “I’ve missed you so much.” You mumbled.

A few moments later, he shifted all his weight right on top of you making you laugh as you tried to scoot out from under him.

He groaned and pulled you closer. “Come here.” He pressed you against his body and wrapped his arms around. “I love you. So much. Don’t you ever leave me.”

You buried your face into his chest, inhaling his scent. “Never happening. You’re my one and only.”

#cherry!seb #sebastian stan #sebastian stan au #mob!seb #sebastian stan smut

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eartht137 · 3 years ago

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FOR THE BETTER pt II

Hey curvies, glad you liked the first part of my story yay. I now bestow upon you part 2. I went a bit out of the way with this chapter, but I hope you like it. The singing part is something I did in class once on a whim, it didn't work as good as I described in the story, I still had to submit my work LOL. Enjoy my little curvies MMMMWWWahHHH!

Dark Clark Kent x (Black)!Plus Size Reader SUMMARY: Mr. Kent said friends til the end of the week right? Think again. Y/n, still getting used to having Mr. Kent as a friend, is trying to be a bit more bold. She's trying to adjust to change and even though sometimes he may seem a bit pushy, she doesn't mind, its all friendship right? He'll back off after awhile right?

You walked in class, no paper in hand and you refused to meet Clarks disappointed gaze. You weren't the only one without a paper but you were really nervous about the presentation you had up your sleeve. You just hoped it made sense. "Alright, looks like we're getting speeches today. Who wants to go first? Hmm?" He said with his hands on his hips. No one volunteered. "Am I going to have to voluntell somebody?" he gave you "the look" over his glasses. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you shakily stood as first volunteer. "Alright Miss Y/l/n, lets hear it." You could hear disappointment dripping in his voice, but you wanted to do this. You took a deep breath, and started to sing. 'Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again, because a vision softly creeping left its seed while I was sleeping, and the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains. Within the sound!!!!!!!!! Of silence.' you ended making everyone freeze and stare. "My voice is pretty much the best thing I like about me. I-I didn't think a paper could put in words what my voice could. Th-that's my speech." You said awkwardly sitting down. You'd never sang in front of anyone like that before, you hadn't even joined the choir, so singing in front of everyone was a huge step for you. Just as you'd finished processing what you'd done, the classroom erupted in cheers and applause. You were shaking at how many people liked what you'd done. You really began to shake when you saw Clark clapping for you too. "That's my wife!" One of your classmates yelled across the room smiling at you. "Alright, alright. Miss Y/l/n," Clark started. "That's Mrs. Bankston to you." the same classmate yelled out making everyone laugh. Your face heated up a bit. "Miss Y/l/n thank you for the speech. It'll suffice this time, next time I want a paper. Okay, Bankston, you're up next." "Aw Mr. Kent for reals? Like how am I supposed to follow up an act like that? Besides we're duo. Like ebony and ivory..." He serenaded holding his hand out toward you, making you giggle. "Mr. Bankston Miss Y/l/n has fantastic gpa in comparison, so seeing as your such a duo I would've expected a lot better." Clark shaded calmly, "So unless you want it to suffer any further, I suggest you cut the crap and give your speech." Clark said a bit irritated. The rest of class was filled with boring speeches from classmates who weren't even prepared to do their work. When class was dismissed, you tried easing out of the room without being noticed. "Uh, Miss Y/l/n, my office please?" He said looking over his glasses at you. You inwardly groaned and went back to his office. "So, what excuse do you have for not doing your paper?" "I honestly couldn't come up with the words to describe how it felt to use my voice. I tried I really did, but honestly, I really just couldn't find the words to describe what I like about me when-I just couldn't find the words." "Y/n, you do not give yourself enough credit. You're a very good writer and obviously an incredible singer. You can be whatever-" "Clark, do I look like a singer to you? No I don't, that's why I write, I know my words have more impact behind the scenes." You said with strength. You didn't have to be seen to be heard. "You can be whatever you want to be and you'll have my support every step of the way. That's what friends, real friends do." "Clark we are not still friends, we said til the end of the week." you shook your head at him with a smile. He smiled and stuffed his hands in his pocket. "Sorry, I'm not going away." "Figures." You laughed a bit. "What are you doing tonight? We could have a movie night." "Will Lois be there?" You asked excited. "I can ask her if you want me to." "I guess it'd be cool, but for like 30 minutes though." "Y/n no movie lasts 30 minutes. Nice try though." he laughed. "We'll be over at 8." "'Kay bye!" You said rushing out of his office off to your next class. That night at 8 on dot a knock came to your door, you answered expecting to see the couple standing there but was a bit shocked to

just see Clark. "Hey, Lois coming by later?" You asked, the last you wanted was to cause drama. "No she's following a lead on a story for the front page. She says she's sorry and she'll catch up next time." He said walking past with bags of groceries. "Oh, well let me help you." You said motioning at the bags in his hands. "I've got it, its pretty heavy." "I swear I honestly thought you'd be bringing a pizza." you chuckled. "Where's your table?" "Table?" You asked head tilted to the side. "Where you eat, the dining table?" he asked sitting the groceries on your counter. "Haha, you have a table for guests. I never have anyone over, so I just sit in front of the tv." you said pointing at your couch. He rolled his eyes at you and huffed. "Oh come on don't look at me crazy, I warned you that I was anti." "That's no excuse." he mumbled as he opened your refrigerator. "Y/n, you don't have any food in here." He fussed. "I do, its in the freezer and the pantry." you defended. "Two chimichangas, a pint of ice cream, Nutella, animal crackers, soda, and ramen. That's not food." He fussed even harder. "Okay dude chill, I'm a working grown college student. I don't eat here much anyway I eat at work, and Nutella is sustainable to my everyday existence." You said yanking the hazelnut spread away before he threw it away. He shook his head as he put the food away. "How long has it been since you've had a hot home cooked meal?" "Last week at your mom's." you shrugged. "I'm glad I brought real food to cook." he fussed on. "Clark, we could've just ordered pizza." you said starting to feel a bit bad for not adulting enough. "We could've, but I wanted to cook for you." He turned and looked at you pleading. "Please tell me you have pots and pans." "God Clark I'm hopeless not an idiot." You joked laughing obnoxiously making him roll his eyes at you. You showed him where everything was and he started cooking. You offered to help, be wanted to cook for you. You sat up the snacks an pulled up Netflix so you could choose a movie. He made his way over to you with a glass of wine. You took a sip and dramatically fell to the ground, pretending to die by poisoned wine. He got down on the floor with you and you looked at the height difference of his head by your feet and your head at the middle of his thighs and started laughing making him laugh like you'd never heard. After you both calmed down you laid there staring at the ceiling like there were stars hovering. "You really do have an amazing voice." Clark said cutting the peaceful silence. You couldn't help but smile. "Thanks....friend." You said nudging him in his thigh with your elbow. You both stayed silent until you gasped making him almost jump out of his skin. "What?" he said worried. "Can I sing at you and Lois' wedding?" You asked catching him off guard. "Oh come on, you love her, I can see it, " You said sitting up and smiling down at him. "and you both look so beautiful together." You stood tall and put your hands on your hips in "Superman" fashion. "Since I'm your friend I give her the golden stamp of, put a ring on it!" You said holding out your thumb. "Okay, I'm picking gonna pick the movie." You said marching to the couch. "That's not fair, I'm cooking I should get to pick the movie." He standing to check on his food. "We could've ordered pizza." You rebutted. "I'm your guest." he shot back with a shit eating grin. "Shit! Fine, you get to pick the movie." "Well I'll pick it after we eat." "Aww what? The tv's right there." You pointed. He looked over his glasses at you. "I don't even have a table." you argued. "You've got an argument for everything don't you?" He said chuckling. "You've got a coffee table, we'll make it work. Do you have a candle?" He said looking around before looking at you. You were there with your hands on your hips, looking at him like-'you know damn well.' He shook his head at your for the millionth time making you giggle a bit. He set the table and poured you another glass of wine. "You know this stuff gets better the more you

drink it." You said gulping the glass down and holding it out for more. "Mm-hmm." He agreed taking a sip of his own while pouring you more. You took a bite of you food, you immediately stood and clapped. "You were right, this is way better than pizza, although pizza is still good, this is amazing. "So what genre do you like most?" He asked. "Horror, I don't know why I watch it though, I always spook myself afterwards." "Okay so no horror." "No, wait please? I won't get scared tonight I promise. I mean unless you want to watch cartoons?" "We'll watch something scary." "Yaaaaay!!!!" you cheered and went to reach for the remote to your tv. "Ah, after we finish dinner and clean up." "Deal!" You said a bit excited. Once dinner was done and you'd both cleaned, even though you told him you'd do all the cleaning, he still helped. Afterwards you both sat and watched a scary movie that had you stress eating and jumping every two seconds. After that movie ended, Clark suggested another movie to help you not feel so spooked. You'd lost count of how many glasses of wine you'd had and you were feeling tipsy and tired. "Hey friend?" You hummed. "Hm?" "I fuckin hate to admit this, but I'm drunk. I'm glad we're friends. You better be glad too." you fussed at him. "I am glad," he laughed, "I really am." He said staring at you. "Good, cause you're the only person I can tolerate. Oh, and Lois....oh and that your mom, I really like your mom....oh and that cute guy from class." you giggled making Clark roll his eyes in disgust. "Y/n please." "What? He's cute, he's an idiot, that doesn't change that he's cute." You said looking at your phone. Your eyes grew big as you saw the time. "Dude its past midnight. Don't you need get home and rest for lecture?" He stared at you for a moment and you could tell he didn't want to go home, but you both knew he had to. "Yeah I'm sure I could use some rest." He said getting up to leave. You tried to get him to take the rest of the food he'd bought with him, but he refused. "Well thanks for dinner's meals and be safe. Do you need me to walk you out?" "Absolutely not, how about I see you off to bed?" "I look five to you? Don't even answer that." You sassed. He laughed and gave you a long hug, telling you how proud of you he was for using your voice and for letting him be your friend. You squirmed out of his arms pretending it was burning you. He ruffled your fro' and you gave him a playful nudge out the door. That night as you laid in bed trying to fall asleep, you kept thinking about Clark and no matter how hard you tried to shake it you couldn't help but fawn over him and how close you both had gotten so fast. 'Girl puh-lease, he's got Lois, she's beautiful and thin. He's happy with her and there's no way he'd even bat an eye at you like that. Don't even get it twisted.' you scolded yourself internally. You couldn't allow yourself to catch feelings for him that way because you knew you'd only end up with hurt feelings. You also didn't want to break up a happy relationship. 'How'd he know I needed groceries though?' you thought to yourself, 'Maybe just a hunch.' you dismissed. Soon with your mind going in 50 different directions, you were tired enough to fall asleep. "Goodnight little bird." Clark said as he watched you finally drift off to sleep. He wondered what thoughts plagued your brain that kept you awake. He hoped you'd thought of him. After making sure every inch of you apartment was safe inside and out he felt satisfied enough to go home and get a bit of rest. 'No harm in making sure she's safe' he thought as he finally took off. 'I'll always make sure she's safe.'

#dark clark kent #x black reader #plus size reader #character development

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fvrxdrm · 4 years ago

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.•*Friends to Lovers on Holidays with Leon Kennedy*•.

Happy Single Asses’ Day!!!

Pairing: Modern!Leon x F!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW

*****

“Cheers to us single fuckers!”

The clinking of wine glasses subtly intertwined with the voices of the actors in a horribly-done “horror” movie that was running on the television as you and Leon briefly joined them together before letting the tang of sweet, bitter, and sour wine hit your tongues. And when they did, you moaned in satisfaction.

“Not bad.”

“It better not be. This shit costed, like, $100.”

Leon grabbed the wine bottle in front of him and went on to refilling yours and his glasses respectively.

“My wallet’s fucking crying,” he continued.

“Hey, don’t bullshit me now. Jack Daniel’s costs $50.00 and I don’t hear you complaining. And from what I remember you buy five of ‘em,” you retorted back hitherto taking a small sip of your drink.

“For your information I only buy one bottle now. Had the president not let us quit going on missions your statement would’ve been correct.”

It was true. Ever since the New York incident, bioterrorism had gone down and those rare times where an occurrence would go down somewhere in a small region on earth the BSAA would be sent, sometimes even bringing one of the newer DSO agents to help them with the cases. And so, with the conclusion that the count was dying at a leisure pace, the government decided there was no need for their veteran agents to be sent on missions unless they were lethal and needed someone who was as exceedingly experienced as you on the field and sanctioned both you and Leon to only do office work until further notice.

“I mean, yeah, true… Pass me the bowl?” With eyes still glued to the T.V., Leon reached out to grab ahold of the large bowl of popcorn and blindly looked for your hand until he finally felt the bottom of the bowl touch a surface, letting it go once he felt the weight shift lighter.

“This is bullshit. Who the fuck just crawls on the ground after tripping while the killer is literally right behind them? Like, fucking 5 inches away from them! I would’ve stood up and ran.”

The movie had been going for about half an hour now and Leon couldn’t be more amused at how you reacted at every scene where the characters’ brains seemingly flew out of their heads. He wasn’t paying attention to the film. He’d watch this way, way, way, way back anyway and he knew how stupid it was so he just entertained himself by listening to your rants and laughing (also getting smacked every now and then).

“Oh my god! Why the fuck does she keep screaming?”

“You know what, I wouldn’t care if he gets killed.”

“Of course, the phone just had to be dead.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now!? Why the fuck are you making out while a psycho is literally out there to sheesh kebab you?”

“Oh my god, I just lost my brain cells.” And so on and so forth…

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Leon muttered with a smirk, popping a chip in his mouth as he turned his gaze towards the movie.

“Well, I didn’t know it was that bad. I thought it was one of those movies that are so bad they’re good,” you defended as you swigged the rest of the wine that filled a portion of your glass. Your friend just snickered in response, stretching his arms and legs and smiled in fulfilment once he heard the crack of aging bones and staring narrow-eyed at the credit screen in front of him.

Words became trapped inside your heads. You didn’t know what to do from here. The only thing you planned was watching a movie for Valentine’s day – or Single Asses’ day as you call it – and fight shy of anything revolving around romance whether it be some sort of song or movie or something.

You both had been unlucky when it came to romance and intimacy. The closest you had to love were some one-night stands with random strangers and even that was far away from said emotion. Your jobs were complicated and when you both had started in the agency years after the Raccoon City incident, it already began taking a toll on your heads and continued to up until the incident in New York. And so, relationships were the last thing you worried about. Though, that didn’t mean your hearts wouldn’t race every once and a while. Truth be told you caught feelings halfway through your career, both of you. You sometimes entertained the idea of you and your best friend being together while he had conflict between you and Ada. Both of you were people he couldn’t let go of but he felt like one was superior to the other and his brain scrambled around for a bit until the day he almost lost you. It was the day disease almost took over the world: Tall Oaks and China. That was the day he realized just how much you meant to him.

“So, um… I should go now. I’ll see you around.” Leon stood up from the couch and was about to head out your apartment door until he felt something warm enclose around his wrist. He turned around to find your pretty face looking sheepish and pleading – pink creeping from your neck to the tip of your ears.

“I-it’s already late and I… I don’t think you’re in the right condition to drive. You can stay here if you want.” The blush on your face darkened even more and your eyes suddenly found interest on your tiled floor, your grip around Leon loosening. Seeing as how abashed you looked right now, he playfully simpered and decided hey, I teasing is fun!😀

“You don’t think I can drive myself home while drunk? Haven’t you seen me in action back in New York?” He spoke.

All enervation and intoxication suddenly voided out of your body; eyes bulging out of their sockets as his statement caught you unwary for a second. Incoherent words stumbled out of your mouth and none were piecing together to form an acceptable response.

“I’m just playing. I get your intentions. You seriously need to chill the fuck out,” Leon finally said after a few enough rambles were pitched into the room ceaselessly.

Your shoulders sagged and the tension that rapidly built up in you were unfettered in a matter of seconds. “Jesus,” you murmured. “You know how I get when I’m drunk.” Leon continued in his bursts of loud laughter and it only made you sink into your seat even more.

“I’m sorry… You’re just so freaking cute!”

Whoops… Didn’t mean for that to come out…

Leon’s fit of hysterics died down in a trice, feeling like a twelve-year-old whose embarrassment was so immense after getting rejected and being made fun of in front of the whole school that he’d rather melt in a puddle where he can be forgotten.

“I-I’m sorry. That just…flew out of nowhere. I- “

“It’s fine. At least I’m not the only tomato here, right? And um… Thanks… For the compliment,” you said, face burning another 100°C.

“Well, uh,” Leon scratched the nape of his neck and shoved his free hand in his pockets where each of his fingers twiddled with one another, “wanna chat?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be bed anytime soon, unless you’re really tired.”

“No, I’d love for you to accompany me tonight,” he replied.

“Okay, come back here you himbo.” You patted the empty space on the couch Leon previously sat on and smiled at him once he made himself comfortable with his feet resting on your coffee table and hands finding contentment in providing itself as a pillow for his head. “So, how’s life?”

“Okay, okay…fine I’ll…haha…do it.”

A few minutes had passed, talking being the only thing you’d done up until Leon tackled and attacked you with tickles on your sides.

“You, Leon Scott Kennedy,” a giggle fell past your lips, “are…”

“Are?”

“…a fucking…idiot!” Leon fell in a daze at your words and while he was at it you took advantage of his vulnerability and shoved him down to the floor with you collapsing on top of him. Only when he felt the softness of your carpet and the hardness of your floor did he bring himself out of his stupor.

“You sneaky little shit-“ He was about to place both of his hands on your waist and flip you two over when his wrists were suddenly grabbed and pinned above his head not even a second after he blinked.

“Uh uh, not so fast. You really think you could get away with this, don’t you?” A smug grin pulled the corners of your lips. Leon sighed.

“Fine, you win.”

Silence had taken over the room once more, the muffled chirping of crickets outside the closed windows the only sound filling in the missing gaps. Though the light that gave life to your apartment was dim, the distance between your faces was enough for Leon to take in every detail that defined the complexion of your face: from the lines that explicated the years and hardship you had been through, to the little dimples beside your lips that he was sure was as deep as the Pacific Ocean. From the constellation of cute freckles that flecked your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, to the pink hue that gave light to them. You were beautiful and there was no doubt it was one of the many things he admired about you. And there was also no doubt that he wasn’t afraid to voice it out while he laid flushed beneath you.

“You’re cute. You know that, right?”

“Mhm, I’m gonna be hot when I’m sixty.” You giggled at your own joke but when you saw just how awestricken your friend was by you, your smile immediately dropped and you were left flustered on top of him in diffidence and nervousness. And because of your oblivion, your hold on his wrists slackened and he took no time flipping the two of you over and switching up the roles.

“I knew you would fall for that, princess,” Leon remarked and before you could even let out a single letter, he already had his lips smashed onto yours.

A soft gasp fell from your lips but it didn’t take long for you to succumb to the feeling of his supple and slightly chapped lips.

In that kiss was the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment, and in that moment, you were in your pure and vulnerable selves.

It was slow and subtle at first, lips delicately lingering against each other for a moment of lip-lock until a relentless appetency set fire in your bodies. It became sloppy and messy and the abiding flavor that ghosted on your tongues left you wanting more and more of what you could give.

Hands set sail on plump skin and it wasn’t long until pieces of clothing slowly began replacing the space on your carpet where you once laid, Leon having carried you to sit you down on your couch.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with this? I don’t want to push you into something you don’t want,” Leon whispered against your kiss-swollen lips, the ghost of his breath sending a delicious chill down your spine.

“I want to… Please?” And that did it for him.

He let out low growl from the depths of his throat before battering your neck with tickling kisses and bites were marks were left as graves created by the inner animal that was housed inside of his body. The brush of his skin against yours arised the short hairs that adorned your own and it didn’t help that the evening cold would tease past you in a speed that sent you shivering to your toes.

“Leon, please.”

“Please what, babe?” Leon kissed along your thighs while he looked at you through the shortness of his lashes.

“I need you, please.”

“In a minute, babe. I fucking need to taste you,” he mumbled, voice raspy with lust and desire.

You anticipated with what was bound to happen next with closed eyes and lip restrained in between teeth. However, no matter how much you prepared yourself for the feeling of his tongue touching your folds, your back still arched at the feeling and a soft moan sounded from an open mouth, hands finding home on Leon’s disheveled hair.

“Oh, fuck!”

“That’s it, baby. Moan for me, moan my name.” That you did. You let a string of curses unknowingly escape your lips along with his name slipping in between them as he lapped your sex with a type of hunger even he couldn’t describe for the life of him. He simply couldn’t get enough of your taste; getting you off once, twice, thrice, until you couldn’t take it anymore and pulled him by his hair before having a sample taste of your own through his lips. And while he was busy savoring your mouth once more, you pushed him on the floor again and straddled his hips impatiently where you felt the twitch of his cock touch your pussy.

“Please, Leon. I want you. I want you so bad. I wanna feel your cock inside me, now.”

“It’s all yours, sweetheart. It’s all yours.”

Permission granted.

Your hand grasped the base of his cock and stroked it a few times before lining the tip up to your entrance, pushing it down once you were sure enough that his dick would just slide in you, and you both moaned at the stretch and the tightness that surrounded him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so tight,” Leon grunted.

You let yourself give in to his astonishing size before you slowly began bouncing up and down his length, your eyelids falling close to the feeling of his dick hitting just the right spots with neither of you trying. You moved in sync together, his hips propelling into yours and gradually speeding up as indulgence replaced the throbbing of your walls at their painful expansion.

“Fuck, Leon, shit.”

This was good, painfully good, but somehow it still wasn’t enough for Leon so he decided to take control again and turned you to your back where he can finally satisfy both you and him much to your contentment. He pounded into you with so much force and the tips of his fingers dug into your skin that you were sure you were going to be sore the next day at work and bruises were going to be a part of your attire for a while. Oh, well, I’m just going to call in sick tomorrow.

“You’re taking my co – ngh – ck so good, baby girl. So – ngh – good.”

Mewls left your mouth at the sound of his broken words and a familiar tight warmth filled your stomach, your moans getting louder and louder each time Leon gave a powerful blow.

“Leon, please, please, please, I’m so close – shit!”

“I know, baby, I know. Just hold on a little longer for me.”

After a few more thrusts, they became sloppy, you noticed, and all pent-up emotion boiled over into one strong orgasm that has you writhing and shaking in relief.

“Well, fuck. That was good,” you spoke in between heavy breathing, the blanket you took from inside your couch now covering your glistening wet bodies.

“Best sex I’ve ever had if I’m being honestly,” Leon added, chuckling despite struggling to get some air himself.

“Yeah. But seriously though,” you steadied your head in your hand and began tracing random doodles on the exposed skin of his chest as you spoke, “Is this going to be a one-time thing or…”

“Well, to be honest, I wanna go further from just being a one-night stand. You know, a real relationship and all that. But if you want it to be a one-time thing, I’ll respect that.” You could tell Leon was disheartened at the thought of him being a one-night stand only but your intention was just the same as his and now, you were sure about your decision.

“I wanna go further than this, too. I love you so fucking much.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page then.” Leon placed a chaste kiss on your lips before he pulled you on top of him and lulled you both into a deep slumber.

*****

Lmao this was longer than intended XD.

#leonkennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon+kennedy+imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon+kennedy+fanfic #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy x reader #leonxreader #resident evil #leon+s+kennedy+x+reader

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icollectyoursins · 4 years ago

Text

Leone Abbacchio Relationship HCs

🐉 anon asked for: “Abbacchio relationship hcs?? -🐉”

These are just SFW headcanons, so I went a little overboard to compensate for the lack of NSFW although, I’ll no doubt do some in the future. Tried to make these kind of organized so it’s easier to read. This will all be under the cut And, yes, reader is a stand user and can see Moody Blues.

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: SFW, brief mentions of nightmares, trauma.

Word Count: 2226

General

Abbacchio is a tough cookie to crack when it comes to romance and forms of affection. He just doesn’t think he’s super into it. Until you gently caress his face while he’s falling asleep or maybe it was the time you curled up next to him while watching a movie. Or the time you casually laced your fingers with his while walking down the street.

Okay, fine, he’s soft, but he would never admit it! Unless he’s been drinking a little too much. Then he’ll tell you how much you mean to him. Or when you’re feeling like shit and super down on yourself.

His nicknames/pet names for you are usually dear, cara/caro (darling/dear), but mostly he just uses your name. He likes the way it sounds! And, honestly, you like the way he says it too.

After you’ve been together for a while, he starts to notice changes in his personality and habits. He’s calmer, doesn’t lash out as much as he used to; he’s less on edge about everything. As well, he noticed that he was drinking less and when he was drinking, it was healthier. It wasn’t long binges in the middle of the night anymore, it was just one or two with friends or for a celebration. He didn’t really realize how much you helped him and how much you meant to him until then. He knew he loved you, of course, but that was really where it clicked in.

You notice the change too. He starts getting more playful in a weird Abbacchio way. It’s small things like poking your side or behind while you’re focused on something. Occasionally, he’ll wrap his arms around your waist from behind and whisper something sweet in your ear that makes you giggle.

When Abbacchio isn’t reading, he’s listening to someone reading. He frequently listens to podcasts, audiobooks, etc. while doing his chores or driving. He thinks it’s a good way to educate himself on current topics or things he’s just interested in. With his whole past, I don’t think he would be interested in true crime or anything like that. Too triggering for him and with you, he really doesn’t want to fall back into old habits.

Now, he’s not perfect and he’s obviously a very hurt individual, so I think it would take someone with a lot of patience to help him get over some of his trauma (and yes, it is trauma). He has his rough days where he’s angrier and more on edge and this makes him more likely to yell or lash out. If you can avoid this, great, but talk to him about it later when he’s calmed down. He needs someone who is good with tense situations who can either calm him down or be able to walk away from the situation and come back later. That being said, you are not his therapist, you are not anyone’s therapist (unless that’s your job). You are their partner. A partner can help with some, but usually, you’re not trained enough to properly deal with something like this.

Dates

He enjoys taking long walks with you, especially near the water. The water is extremely relaxing to him and you’re relaxing to him, so it’s the best of both worlds.

Not overly into picnics, but if you offer, he would be more than happy to indulge you by packing a basket with some nice red wine and a charcuterie board with some sandwiches. Sincerely loves the beach and sitting next to you on a blanket, enjoying the sun on the warmer days just makes him feel so human again.

His favourite dates with you are the ones where you two are on the couch at home together watching a movie. He enjoys the closeness, the relaxed state you’re both in and, of course, the popcorn. Eats it plain to be healthier, but when you’re not looking, he’ll add salt and butter to his. But, then one day one of the boyz introduce him to adding chocolatey things to popcorn (like M&M’s) and that’s it. His loose diet is out the window.

The microwave beeped in the background while you plopped down, flicking through different disks in your hand. You had picked out a classic, cheesy werewolf horror movie by the time Abbacchio sat down with two bowls in hand. He handed him the movie while sneaking a handful of his popcorn into your mouth.

“Mmph!” You let out a muffled sound of shock as warm chocolate squished into your hand. You dropped the chocolate into your bowl, looking at the mess you had just made. “What did you put in your bowl?”

He chucked. “Mn’M’s.”

“Why?”

“Narancia told me to.” The DVD was in and starting up just as he was walking back, shaking the couch as he sat down with a grunt. He pulled a tissue out of the box next to him, handing it to you, then he grabbed his bowl, picking out a piece of warm M&M and sucking it into his mouth with a satisfying crunch. He licked his fingers while you cleaned your palm, frustrated with how little it was cleaning up.

“Ugh, whatever!” You began licking up the remnants earning you another chuckle from Leone. One of you presses play on the remote and settle into each other. You’re curled up into his arm for most of the movie, head leaning on his collar bone. He occasionally kisses the top of your head or pops a piece of popcorn in your mouth.

Soon, the bowls are empty and you’re practically sitting in his lap, holding each other close. He’s so warm, so comfortable. You find yourself starting to nod into sleep. He hums as he feels your breathing slow to a steady rhythm. Yeah, that movie was pretty boring, wasn’t it?

He chuckles, carefully pulling the blanket from the back of the couch, pulling it around you while he got himself comfortable. There was no way he was getting up from this spot, so he might as well join you.

When Abbacchio is feeling fancy or bougie, he’ll take you out to restaurants or tourist attractions. If anyone tries to swindle you out of something, you can guarantee he’s going to at least insult them in some way or maybe just straight up kick them in the face. Regardless, he’ll protect you.

Affection

When in public, he still likes to keep you close, but tones it down a little bit. Usually, he’s got his hand on your back or you’re holding hands, hovering close to each other.

He’s very protective and if the gang’s jokes go too far, he’ll let them know.

In private, he’s obviously more relaxed. He doesn’t need to put on a mask around you, so he just lets it all go. He’ll come up while you’re doing chores and either hug you from behind or spin you around for a kiss before letting you continue whatever it was you were doing with no explanation.

Very rarely lets you do his makeup, but when he does, he’s a little cheeky about it and kind of anal all at the same time. The easiest way for you to do his make up is sitting in his lap, so already he’s cocky about it, but then you start getting to the eyeliner and he gets picky.

You perched yourself on Leone’s lap, carefully buffing out a natural-looking eyeshadow with a brush. Occasionally, he would crack open an eye, looking up to see the concentration on your face as you avoided any fall out from the shadow. He squeezed your thighs pleasantly then massaged circles into the soft flesh. You looked into his open eye with a coy smirk before returning to your work.

You dipped the brush into the pallet again, this time a lighter shade for the inner corner of his eyes. Gently, you pressed the pigment in from the edge of the lid to the corner, then, like before, you buffed it out back into the lid. His hands began to wander, sliding up and down your thighs. You gave him another look, but he wasn’t paying attention this time, eyes closed. You scoffed.

Finally, you finished, moving onto the eyeliner, picking out a sleek black You started with the outer corner, going for a winged look. Before you were able to press a line in, he grabbed your hand quickly, pushing it back so he could open his eyes.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he said. You sat back, exasperated.

“I haven’t even done anything!”

The two of you got into a small playful argument of “oh, I’ll do it,” “no, I’ll do it.” Until eventually you settled with him doing your makeup in exchange.

“Thank you, now.” You reached for two shades of lipstick, one purple and one black. “Which one do you want?” He rolled his eyes, grabbing the black as well as a handheld mirror.

“No, no, no. You get to do your eyeliner, not your lipstick! The lipstick is mine.” You playfully kissed his lips before pulling everything from his hands, earning you a groan from Abbacchio.

Seeing as we’re talking about sitting on his lap! He loves it. Just, any physical touch from you makes him feel so loved, especially when alone at home. He particularly enjoys when you’re pressed up against him while reading a book or watching a movie with his arm around you. Alternatively, he enjoys your legs tossed over his thighs or his over yours.

Around the House

Now, chores. Abbacchio doesn’t like chores. He’ll do them if you ask, but he’s not gonna like it. Least favourite is laundry. He just kind of chucks his clothes on the floor in a pile until you tell him to move it or do it yourself. You can’t tell the difference between his clean clothes and dirty clothes, so you mostly let him deal with it when the pile gets big enough or he runs out of clothes.

Doesn’t hate doing the dishes, so he actually gets stuck with that since you’re doing almost everything else. If you’ve recently had the rest of the Bucci gang over, he’s less inclined to do it. Narancia and Mista both tend to be slobs, so their plates are always nasty, but he does it anyway, just complains a lot later. Nastiness aside, doing the dishes slowly becomes a therapy moment for him. Just his music, a bunch of clean dishes and pure peace.

Much like with dishes, he doesn’t hate vacuuming or dusting and will do it when asked, but doesn’t like it. Honestly, he’s not the best at vacuuming, he always misses corners and forgets to do one place, so you do most of it.

Look, I’m not saying he’s a slob, he’s not, but he can get a little lazy, especially on his rougher days. That being said, if it’s a special day or he’s feeling a little romantic and has something planned, he’ll do everything. It won’t be perfect, but the sentiment is there.

Sleeping

He has a very cute snore. It’s not loud or obnoxious, it’s soft and relaxed. Honestly, kind of soothing. That is IF you’re able to hear it. He usually doesn’t sleep until you do, but it’s very precious.

Prefers being big spoon or ‘the pillow’ where you sleep on some body part of his (his thighs are exceptionally comfy and, of course, his pecs). He usually wraps one arm around you if he can, rubbing his thumb against your shoulder or forearm.

But, one night, you got in bed late and he was already asleep, so you came up behind him, wrapping your arm around his waist then stroking his stomach softly. He’ll never let you know, but he was awake. That was the day he discovered he loved being a little spoon. He won’t fight if you happen to do it again.

Regardless, Abbacchio is clingy when he sleeps. Not bear hug, but always has an arm around you to make sure you’re there and safe.

He gets some nightmares, of course. Doesn’t scream, just jolts awake and goes to grab a glass of water, then comes back, so it’s unlikely he’d wake you up from a deep sleep. If you are awake, ask him what he needs. Sometimes he needs you to hold him, other times he needs just some time alone, but remind him you are there for anything. If you’ve already got a glass of water next to his bed, he’s head over heels. So thankful. Might make you breakfast the next morning as a proper thank you.

Stand

What does Moody Blues think? Well, much like its user, it’s very analytical and almost cold when it comes to you, though if Abbacchio is away from you for a little longer than usual, but still in range (like being kept in a meeting too long while you’re in the car waiting) he’ll send his stand to you and help you relax a bit by letting you cuddle “Abbacchio” (the stand copying it’s user), or just let you relax with the stand itself!

Actually, if he’s busy at home and you’re tired, MB will replay a time where you were cuddling in bed, or on the couch so you can snuggle with someone at least.

#leone abbacchio #leone abbacchio x reader #abbacchio x reader #abbacchio #leone abbachio #leone abbachio x reader #abbacchio prompts #sfw

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itspufflehuff · 4 years ago

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Spidey Part3 - Sebastian Stan X Holland!Reader

Summary: Things are going great with you and Sebastian but what will happen when he has to leave to film a movie?

MATERLIST // TAGLIST

Part One| Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |

Thank you all so much for being patient for this part three! Its not as long as part one or two but I think it is just as sweet. If you would like for me to continue this series let me know! If you have any suggestions or request for what I should do next my inbox is always open.

I would also like to give a special thanks to @star-gazing-game and @not-another-fangirl who requested part three and always give my post so much love. Thank you both!

Word Count: 1,648

You decided to keep things away from the media at first.

Of course Tom was the first to know, not only because Sebastian asked for his permission but because after your date you immediately called Tom to tell him. Sebastian talked to Mackie about the date. You were both so happy you needed to talk to someone.

Soon the entire marvel cast knew and surprisingly Tom wasn't the one who spilled the beans.

About a week after your fourth date with Sebastian, he got a text from Chris Hemsworth.

C.H: Congrats man! I heard about you and Y/N. I knew I saw sparks flying at comic-con.

Coincidentally you happened to be at Sebastian's apartment when he got the text. You were both laying on his couch watching a movie. He was sitting next to the arm of the sofa as you snuggled up to him resting your head on his shoulder with a blanket tossed over the both of you.

When he read the text he looked at his phone confused, "Did you tell anyone we're together?"

"Only Tom. Why?"

You felt him move, a second later his phone was in front of you, "Hemsworth? Who told him?"

Both of you immediately thought of Tom but before you texted him asking why he told everyone you decided to do some digging. You took Sebastian's phone and replied back.

Sebastian: Thank you but quick question... how did you know?

Less than a minute later he responded.

C.H: RDJ

Immediately you both texted him from Sebastian's phone. Soon you all found out who the culprit was, Mackie. Turns out he was so proud of himself for playing Cupid the night Sebastian saw you after your show he bragged Chris Evans that he helped set you two up. Then Evans mentioned it to Mark Ruffalo who then let it slip to RDJ. Of course him being Robert Downey Jr. he told everyone else.

Neither of you were mad at anyone or even upset, you were just confused about how the word got out. The both of you even though it was a bit funny. Still, you wanted it to be out of the public eye for a bit. You both loved being able to go out without paparazzi following you and trying to get a picture of Hollywood's newest couple. The entire cast was so sweet and kept everything private.

For a few months, you were lucky to have Sebastian all to yourself. After rehearsal, he would meet you at your place with food and a bag of games and movies. At the end of your shows, he would always bring you one single flower to add to your growing collection. On your days off you would spend the night at each other's apartments making pillow forts and sneaking out to the balcony to lay there and watch the stars.

Then the time came again for him to start filming Endgame. He wouldn't be gone for too long as he only had a few scenes to be in, but that didn't stop the both of you from being upset at having to part ways for a bit.

You were scheduled for a tv performance with your cast the same day Sebastian would leave to fly out to LA. He asked you to spend the night with him that way you could say your goodbyes the next day in private. Luckily you had no show to do so you went over to his apartment early in the evening to have a romantic night with your boyfriend.

When you should up he was dressed in his lazy clothes. He pulled you into his apartment, grabbed you by the waist with one hand, and with the other he shut the door before placing a loving kiss on your lips. You could feel him smiling which made your stomach bubble up with joy. He pulled away then took your bag that had your clothes for the next day, "Let me take that for you, my lady. Wait for me here." He gave you a dopey smile and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. You listened to him and stood by the door slowly taking your coat off. He came back less than a minute later still with his dopey grin he placed his hand on your lower back, "Now if you would just follow me outside my songbird."

You couldn't help but giggle at his behavior, "Hello to you too. Are you feeling well? You're acting a bit strange Seb."

His hand still rest on your back as he walked you towards his patio, "Of course I'm feeling well. What? I can't be happy to see my lovely girlfriend?" He faked being offended.

"No, of course, you can it's just-" But when he opened the door to his patio you stopped with a small gasp. There were blankets set out on the floor along with a couple of pillows. He set out a picnic basket and next to it was a small tin bucket with a bottle of wine and ice. The sun was starting to set but you saw fairy lights and candles set up.

"Surprise!"

"Seb, this is amazing." You stood there in shock. Sure he's taken you out on dates and you've had lunch/ dinner out on his patio before but he's never taken the time to set it up nice like this before.

"I want to have an amazing night with you before I have to leave for a few months." He took your hand and sat you down on the blankets with him. "So, I didn't want to ruin tonight with my horrible cooking so I got us food from the restaurant we had our first date at. It's not as romantic as a home-cooked meal but I thought it would be pretty close."

You smiled at him as you put your hand on his cheek, "This is amazing Sebastian. Thank you."

"Anything to keep my girl happy." He leaned in kissing you sweetly. When you both pulled away he rested his head on your forehead wanting to stay as close as possible.

The evening went by quicker than either of you expected. You both sat out there talking and sipping on wine for hours. Neither of you even noticed when the sun went down or when the air got colder. He noticed you beginning to shiver. Quickly he unzipped the sweater he had on placing it over your shoulders. Once you had your arms through the hole he pulled you into his embrace to keep you warm. You both sat there in the quiet for a few moments just enjoying each other's presence.

"Do you have to go tomorrow?" You turned your head to look up at him.

His eyes were closed as his head was facing up at the sky, "I wish I could stay or you could go with me." You shivered again as the cold wind blew, "Let's go inside now my songbird. I don't want you getting sick."

"I want to stay in your arms." You whined.

He chuckled, "How about we head inside we can cuddle under the blankets?"

"Do you have more wine?"

"Yes?" He said more like a question.

"Ok, let's go." You got up and headed for the door. His head dropped as he laughed.

After the both of you put everything away Sebastian took a bottle of wine from his fridge and walked you to his room hand in hand. You kicked your shoes off as he turned the lamp by his bed on. "I'm just gonna change really quick before we cuddle." You opened up the bag you brought then groaned.

"What's wrong?" Sebastian perked his head up concerned.

"I didn't bring clothes to sleep in."

He laughed walking over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and bent down to rest his head in the crook of your neck, "It's ok you can just wear my shirt and the shorts you left the other night."

"Thank you."

He kissed your neck quickly then pulled away. As he walked over to the dresser he pulled off the shirt he was wearing and tossed it over to you.

"What?" You held the shirt up confused.

"I said you could wear my shirt."

"Yeah, but I thought you meant you would give me a new one."

He just shrugged, "You know I sleep shirtless anyway." A second later you felt another piece of fabric softly hit your head. You grabbed it seeing he just threw your shorts to you, "Thanks." You said sarcastically.

You began pulling off the shirt you were wearing to replace it with his. As soon as he saw you lift your shirt he turned. You've changed in front of him before but he always keeps his back turned to give you some privacy.

"Ok, I'm done changing." You sat on his bed as he followed suit. He grabbed the bottle of wine and began taking swigs of it then offering it to you. For the rest of the night, you both sat on his bed drinking and talking about your horror stories of past relationships. Much to your dislike Sebastian ended up drinking more than half the bottle. He laid back on the bed and pulled you down with him. He grabbed one of his blankets then threw it over the both of you. You both laid there silently. You listened to him breathe as it looked like he was falling asleep.

"Y/N?" He softly spoke.

"Yes, Sebastian?"

"I'm glad we met. I don't know how I survived so long without you."

You blushed, but he couldn't see it as the room was dark.

"You make me so happy Y/N. Thank you." He kissed the tip of your nose then pulled you closer to him. Soon he drifted off to sleep. You listened to his heartbeat as you thought to yourself.

I love this man so much.

#sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #sebastion x reader #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #mcu imagine #fanfic #imagine

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ask-afc-richmond · 3 years ago

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does anyone have any plans for Halloween?

Dani: Ooh, muchismias gracias for this ask, anon! I am so excited for Halloween this year! We’re throwing a Richmond Halloween party for the team!!! It’s going to be SO MUCH FUN!!! We’re going to have costumes and karaoke and pumpkin carving, and face painting! (That last one way my idea, and I’m very proud of it 😄) It’s going to be a lot of fun, and I can’t wait!!! Anyways, I hope you, anon, have a lovely Halloween, and… futbol is life!!! (But so is Halloween 😉)

Beard: I’ll be missing out on the big team Halloween party. It’s not that I don’t enjoy spending time with the boys because I really do. I’ve just got plans to celebrate the Sabbat Samhain instead. A pagan group I’m a part of is having a bonfire and hosting a Dumb Supper. For those who don’t know, a Dumb Supper is a meal eaten in complete silence as a way to honor the dead. The following article gives a great overview for those curious to learn more: https://tinyurl.com/5edszp7v

Sassy: Scary movies on the couch and loads of candy, finishing up with a viewing of *Practical Magic* (I'm so proud Nora practically knows it by heart by now)

Jamie: I’m going to the Halloween party and I’m going to get absolutely hammered. Me and Colin found some recipes for Halloween cocktails so we’re gonna try them out. Maybe after the party we’ll watch some horror films, like Scary Movie or something.

Higgins: We’re going to be carving pumpkins during the day, with a Halloween playlist on in the background. Later on, after the boys have been trick or treating, we’ll be watching some spooky films like Hocus Pocus and The Haunted Mansion, and trying not to eat too many sweets!

Ted: I’ll be going to the Halloween party, and I’ve baked a few treats to take with me. I’ve got cupcakes with little ghosts on ’em, spider cookies, and eyeball cake pops. I made some pumpkin pie too, because I hear it’s not all that popular over here, and I figured what better time to try it than Halloween?

Henry’s gonna FaceTime me before he goes out trick-or-treating so I can see him in his costume, so I’d better try not to drink too much of whatever Jamie and Colin are cooking up before then. He’s actually going as Jamie this year, so if Jamie isn’t drunk as a skunk by then, I’ll try and get him to say hi. I’ll bet that’d brighten up both of their days.

Roy: I promised Phoebe that I'll take her trick-or-treating -- She's going as Hermione, and I'll be dressing up as the headmaster. And we'll be staying the fuck away from the Halloween party, 'cause I don't need anyone on the team seeing me or, fucking hell, taking a picture of me in that stupid fucking costume. Wearing those robes just makes me look like a fucking clown with a bed sheet wrapped around me; but Phoebe's very excited about the whole thing, and fuck if I'm gonna ruin her night.

Keeley's also been working really hard these past few months and I got her to take the night off. She's been doing fucking amazing at her job, but shit, I've missed having some proper time to ourselves. I'll be taking her out to her favourite Indian restaurant, a walk along the river, then home for some wine. And after that, hopefully, I can get her to come to bed before two in the fucking morning.

#dani rojas #coach beard #flo sassy collins #jamie tartt #leslie higgins #ted lasso #roy kent #ask

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years ago

Text

Thought I Couldn't Top It, Huh? OVER 2000 Questions! (Truly the Longest!) Created by distortedcognition

Part 1

Time and date right now: It’s currently Monday, August 30, 2021 at 3:37AM. How far do you want to get? I’m gonna get through the whole thing, just not all at once. =>This or That<= Pie or cake? Cake. Chocolate or vanilla? Vanilla. Black or white? Both. Ceiling or floor? Floor. Couch or bed? Bed. Cough or sneeze? Uh, I guess sneeze. On or off? That really depends. Closed or open? That really depends as well. Brush or comb? Brush. Long or short? Depends also.

Big or small? It depends, stopppp. Wet or dry? Sigh. Under or over? I’m not good at choosing, apparently. Fly or fall? Fly. Falling isn’t fun. Smile or frown? I’d rather smile than frown. Tears of joy or tears of sorrow? Tears of joy would of course be better, but I’m only familiar with tears of sorrow. Hot or cold? Cold, unless we’re taking coffee and foods meant to be hot. When I say cold I’m mostly talking about temperature wise. Warm or cool? Same answer ^^^ Rough or smooth? Smooth. Cat or dog? Dog. Snake or bird? Bird. Shark or T-Rex? T-Rex. Past or present? Past. Science fiction or fantasy? Both. Dull or sharp? Sharp. Live forever or die young? Live forever. Books or television? Both. Jump or skip? Skip. Fast or slow? Depends. Run or walk? Walk. Disney or Warner Brothers? Disney. Belle or Jasmine? Belle. Gaston or Cruella Deville? Cruella Deville. Food or friends? Food. ha. Odd comparison. Colors or black and white? Colors. Cute or pretty? Cute. Good or evil? Uh, good. Fruits or vegetables? I eat more veggies than fruits, but even that’s not a lot. Milk or juice? I’ll say milk, but almond milk specifically. I don’t drink it by itself, I just use milk with like coffee drinks, with cereal, milkshakes, and to dip cookies in. Hot chocolate or gingerale? Hot chocolate. Beer or wine? Neither, I don’t drink. Movies or cartoons? Movies, but I still watch some cartoons. Pillow or blanket? Blanket. Moon or stars? Stars. Sky or sea? Sea. Explode or implode? Jeez, both aren’t good but I certainly don’t want to implode... Tree or flower? Tree. Mountain Dew or Sprite? Mountain Dew. Ketchup or mustard? Both. Meats or veggies? Both. Straps or strapless? Straps. Water or Gatorade? Water. PS2 or Xbox 360? PS2. History or geography? History. Geometry or algebra? Ew, neither. Basketball or volleyball? Nether. Not a sports fan at all. Basketball or soccer? ^^^ Basketball or tennis? ^^^ Basketball or baseball? ^^^ Basketball or football? ^^^ Basketball or swimming? Swimming. Volleyball or soccer? Not a sports fan... Volleyball or tennis? ^^^ Volleyball or baseball? ^^^ Volleyball or football? ^^^ Volleyball or swimming? Swimming. Soccer or tennis? Still don’t like sports. Soccer or baseball? ^^^ Soccer or football? ^^^ Soccer or swimming? Swimming. Tennis or baseball? No. Sports. Tennis or football? ^^^ Tennis or swimming? Swimming. Baseball or football? My dislike for sports still hasn’t changed. Baseball or swimming? Swimming. Football or swimming? Swimming. Chinese or Mexican food? Mexican food. Red or orange? Red. Red or yellow? Yellow. Red or green? Green. Red or blue? Blue. Red or indigo? Indigo. Red or violet? Violet. Orange or yellow? Yellow. Orange or green? Green. Orange or blue? Blue. Orange or indigo? Indigo. Orange or violet? Violet. Yellow or green? Green. Yellow or blue? Blue. Yellow or indigo? Yellow. Yellow or violet? Yellow. Green or blue? Green. Green or indigo? Green. Green or violet? Green. Indigo or violet? Violet. Fall or summer? Fall, hands down. I hate summer. Winter or spring? Winter. Rain or snow? Bothhh. Mud or dirt? Neither. Snakes or spiders? Uh, NEITHER OF THEM. Fido or Fluffy? Fluffy. Rainbows or stars? Stars. Blue or gray sky? Gray sky. Prairies or forests? Forests. Lakes or streams? Both. Fish or caimans? I guess fish. I don’t like reptiles. Roses or daffodils? Roses. Bauhaus or Rosetta Stone? Rosetta Stone. I’ve never heard of Bauhaus. Sisters of Mercy or Skinny Puppy? What? Green Day or Fall Out Boy? Both. From First to Last or My Chemical Romance? My Chemical Romance, but I like a couple songs by From First to Last during my emo days. The Monkees or The Beatles? The Beatles. David Bowie or Billy Idol? I like some songs from both, but wasn’t a big fan of either one. Helloween or Skid Row? No idea. Britney Spears or Vanessa Carlton? Britney, but A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton is a fave. The Goo Goo Dolls or 3 Doors Down? Both. Duran Duran or Madonna? Madonna, but I do like “Hungry Like a Wolf” and “Ordinary World” by Duran Duran. John Williams or Danny Elfman? Both. Mozart or Beethoven? Mozart.

Men at Work or Men Without Hats? Men at Work, but ya just can’t help but sing along to “Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats. The Arrogant Worms or Voltaire? Not familiar with either one. Dark Muse or Inkubus Sukkubus? Not familiar with them either. Queen or Black Sabbath? Queen. Rush or Pet Shop Boys? Rush. Johnny Hates Jazz or Deep Blue Something? Deep Blue Something. Supertramp or Steppenwolf? Not familiar with either one. Enormous mansion or humble abode? Ha, I thought we were still on the bands for a sec. Anyway, humble abode. Teaspoon or tablespoon? Uh, don’t really have a preference it just depends. China plates or crystal figurines? Crystal figurines. Knife or spork? Spork. Bedroom or basement? Bedroom. Antiques or chrome? Antiques. Wide screen televisions or ornately-designed windows? Ornately designed windows. Carpet or wood? Wood. Blenders or washing machines? Washing machines. Pen or pencil? Pen. Couch or bed? Bed. Kitchen sink or bathroom sink? Bathroom sink. Sitting on the roof with a friend or swimming in your backyard with them? Swimming. Phones or AIM? Aw, RIP AIM. Pillow or footrest? Pillow. Sharpies or ducks? Sharpies. How did you come up with that comparison? Personality quizzes or story quizzes? Personality. Gaia or Neopets? Oh wow, I remember Gaia. Anyway, I’ll go with Neopets. Attempting to use proper grammar or purposely butchering language? Proper grammar. Having to read the poetry on Quizilla or writing your own? I don’t read poetry, but I’d rather do so than attempt to write my own. Gold or silver? Both. Lipstick or lip gloss? Lip gloss. Sunny or rainy? Rainy. Edgar Allan Poe or Oscar Wilde? Edgar Allann Poe. Johnny Depp or Orlando Bloom? Johnny Depp. Lindsay Lohan or Hilary Duff? Hilary Duff. Pringles or Doritos? Doritos. MTV or VHI? MTV. Vampire or mermaid? Vampire. The Internet or television? Internet. Romantic comedy or romance tragedy? Romantic comedy. Comedy or drama? Drama. Comedy or horror? Horror. Comedy or fantasy? Fantasy. Law and Order: Criminal Intent or Law and Order: SVU? I don’t watch either one. The OC or Laguna Beach? (Why have I succumbed to asking this question?) I liked both. Blind or deaf? Uhh. Blind or mute? Mute or deaf? Shrimp or crab? Neither. I don’t like seafood. Crab or lobster? ^^^ Stickers or stamps? Stickers. VHS or DVD? DVD. VHS or CD? CD. CD or DVD? DVD. Paris or New York City? Both. Philadelphia or Chicago? Chicago. MySpace or TagWorld? Myspace. I’ve never heard of TagWorld. MySpace or Facebook? Facebook. Myspace died a longggg time ago. Mall goth or TRUE goth? What’s a TRUE goth, exactly?

Emo or punk? Emo. Emo or prep? Emo. Punk or prep? Punk. Punk or goth? Punk. Goth or prep? Goth.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #over 2000 questions survey series part 1 #this or that #long survey #about me

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captbenscn-a · 3 years ago

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ELLIOT/OLIVIA

who is the better dancer? They're both pretty good dancers, but I'd say Elliot probably has a little more experience with it than Liv? Especially with slow dancing, but Liv falls into it easily with Elliot. And she has some moves of her own, I mean. Have you seen her hips? Have you seen the way she moves? I definitely feel like Olivia gets flirtatious when she's dancing, especially to faster paced music.

who likes the outdoors more and who likes the indoors more? I'd say it's pretty even? Especially since they don't get to get out much due to their work, at least not recreationally. So when they do have time, they enjoy going for walks together. Through the park, along the pier, wherever. Just to get out and be somewhere.

who’s a cat person and who’s a dog person? Elliot is definitely a dog person! I think we've discussed this. Olivia likes both. Maybe cats a little more? But she's definitely fine with having a dog if that's what they get. Elliot with dogs makes my heart melt, though, but imagine a kitten in his lap.

who’s more social? They're both social. Kind of have to with the job they work!

who makes the bed every morning? They're both pretty clean and organized, so... both? Maybe Elliot more being a family man and all. Olivia tends to make the bed a mess though haha.

who likes to keep the house cold and who likes to keep the house warm? They both like a balance. Not too hot, not too cold. But more cold than hot, if that makes sense. If Olivia gets too cold, Elliot's able to warm her up asjdshjdd

who takes longer getting ready? Probably Olivia. Make up, shoes, hair etc. And she doesn't go overboard with it, it's literally just her having more to do than Elliot. And he likes to watch her get ready. Sometimes he'll stand at the bathroom door, arms crossed, a smile on his face, watching her do her thing.

who likes scary movies and who likes funny ones? Elliot knows more about movies in general so he's helped choose what to watch most of the time. But they enjoy a good laugh, which is needed when you work the job they do. Olivia starts to like horror movies, but she definitely prefers comedy or romcoms.

who screams when they see a bug and who ends up killing it? Neither LMAO. They don’t like roaches, but they’re not gonna scream about it.

who is more technology challenged? Elliot LMAO. He’s such a dad okay and I love him. But really, both he and Olivia are always ??? when the tech guys at their precinct do their thing. They just smile and nod and go along with it. They’re always impressed by it, though. Though, maybe Olivia is more challenged than Elliot because he DOES have kids so they probably teach him a lot about it.

who would be more likely to burn something in the oven? Olivia asahsjdhsd. Elliot is the much better cook. She knows some things, but not near what Elliot does and gods, does she love to watch him work the kitchen.

who talks in their sleep? I think they’ve both had their moments. Especially with their nightmares. They’ve grunted in their sleep, they’ve trembled, flinched, and we know in the show Olivia has talked in her sleep, even said Elliot’s name while she was undercover. She’s an emotional person so I feel like that definitely shows in her sleep, too, and with Elliot it might be because - while he can control it while he’s awake - he can’t necessarily control it while he’s alseep? If that makes sense. --- Not gonna lie, though, when Olivia has hot dreams about Elliot, though. It shows LMAO.

who leaves the cap off the toothpaste? Neither. Again, they’re both pretty clean and organized. And with Elliot always having to clean up after his kids, I don’t see him doing things like that.

who likes getting dressed up more? Hmm, I feel like Olivia on this one. She has a few dresses she doesn’t get to wear often so she gets excited when she does, even if it’s undercover. And let’s be honest, Elliot loves seeing Olivia all dressed up. Fancy dresses, her hair all done, he goes wide eyed and slack jawed sometimes. And when they get together, they try to go out a bit more. And Liv definitely loves seeing Elliot in a suit. He wears the hell out of them. Suits and uniforms.

who’s better at tying ties? Elliot, because he wears them all the time, but Olivia knows how to tie them, too, and she loves tying - and untying - his. Ties are very, uh, important for them asdsjhdsj

who recorded the answering machine message on the house phone? Elliot since it’s his house, but once they get a place of their own? Who knows. They may just use their cellphones, anyway.

who’s better at planning romantic things? Elliot, for sure. He’s such a huge romantic and Olivia LOVES it. He goes all out when he plans their dates and everything. They’re a very romantic and intimate couple.

who takes up more space in the closet? Maybe Olivia since her wardrobe has a bit more variety to it. But they’re things she does wear, not just to collect. Like she doesn’t hoard shoes or anything like that.

who has more of a sweet tooth? Liv, maybe? Especially when it comes to strawberry flavored things.

who drinks more often? Mm, this is a tricky one. In general, they don’t really drink that much. Now and then they’ll have a glass of wine or scotch or whatever it is they want to drink, but when certain things happen? Like with the Lewis situation, wine becomes a bit more... important for Olivia. She drinks a bit more of it, though she tries not to rely too heavily on it. But with the hell she went through, it becomes a little bit of a coping mechanism for her, but Elliot helps her with it.

who is most likely to laugh during a serious situation? I mean, they both have. Or both almost have. A certain Master Baiter comes to mind lmfao.

#HERE WE ARE #i hope this is all okay #feel free to reblog if you want #and add anything too!#storieswrittcn #storieswrittcn; elliot #off duty; ooc #saved #Bensler #headcanons #headcanon

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wiener-soldiers · 4 years ago

Text

the imperfect bubble - steve rogers

summary: y/n looks at bucky barnes like he’s the sun and the stars; bucky looks at y/n y/l/n like nothing more than his best friend. steve looks at peggy carter like she’s a divine angel; peggy looks at steve rogers like he’s nothing more than the remnants of a college romance. y/n looks at steve rogers like he’s a mirror; steve looks at y/n y/l/n like she’s the only person left that he can confide in.

words: 10.2k (you read that right)

warning: angst, unrequited love, the slowest slow burn you can possibly fathom, okay maybe not a slow burn but more like an oh shit that happened, minimal editing

a/n: im?? back?? i really enjoyed writing this one tho

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist! | faq

Leave your grievances at the door.

It was no longer an unspoken rule; when Steve and Bucky stepped into Y/N’s shared apartment with her college—and by association, their—friend’s Natasha and Wanda for movie night, they found the saying printed on the doormat inside their apartment.

It was a tradition that Steve, Bucky, and Y/N started their freshmen year of college. Steve and Bucky were best friends since childhood and have been through thick and thin together. So it was no surprise that despite the two attending different colleges, they still made it a habit to spend every waking moment together.

The two left their beloved Brooklyn to attend schools in Manhattan—Steve at Columbia pursuing his history degree and Bucky at NYU pursuing his engineering one. It was Steve’s turn to make the trip downtown and hang out with Bucky, but to his surprise, upon arriving at his dorm, he met eyes with a slightly wine-drunk girl hanging upside down Bucky’s bed while he tried to throw popcorn in his mouth.

It was quite the first impression, but Steve learned her name was Y/N, she went to NYU for journalism, and that she’d be sticking around a lot.

That night, instead of going out, Steve joined them in Bucky’s dorm, watching shitty Netflix reality shows, getting drunk on cheap wine, and their weekly tradition lived on ever since.

The doormat saying was one Y/N jokingly said to Bucky in their sophomore year of college. Y/N had moved into a new apartment in the East Village with Natasha and Wanda, two girls she bonded with over mutual hate for a certain TA. Despite Steve and Bucky’s place being decently big after deciding to move into a place together, the girl’s place was decidedly better decorated and more suited for movie nights.

Bucky had come in complaining about how a girl in his class flirted with him just to steal his notes and eventually best him during their midterms. Granted, it was a thrilling tale, but Y/N has jokingly told him to, “Leave you grievances at the door, Buck. This is movie night; we are going to chill and get drunk.”

The unspoken movie night rule stuck ever since.

So, when Steve and Bucky (now juniors) kicked their shoes off upon entering the girl’s apartment, the let out an audible laugh, alerting them that the muscle of the group was here.

“You like it?” Y/N calls out from the kitchen, followed by several ‘pops.’ The smell of buttery popcorn wafted through the air as the two followed the scent into the living room. Natasha was already occupying her seat on the couch. Wanda sat on the floor, in between her legs so to let Natasha braid her hair, as she scrolled through her Netflix queue for movies to watch.

“Looks great, doll,” Bucky smiled at her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Steve notices a red blush crawl up her neck and smirks, sending the girl a wink. Y/N’s blush extends even further.

“Where’d you get it?” Bucky asks, sauntering into the living room and hopping over the back of the couch to land beside Nat.

Wanda giggles, “I custom ordered it on Etsy. I thought it would be funny.”

“You’re not wrong,” Natasha replies before the three of them fall into easy conversation about their weeks.

Steve stays behind the kitchen, observing Y/N as she observes Bucky. He smiles amusedly at her before saying, “I take it he still doesn’t know.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “He didn’t know last week. He didn’t know last year. He didn’t know since we were seventeen. You think I’m gonna tell him now?”

Steve shrugs, routinely helping Y/N gather the snacks and drinks for their movie night, “I think you’d be cute together, s’all.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the man himself,” Y/N says sarcastically.

“You could always tell him,” he counters, “Guys find it hot when girls make the first move.”

“Whatever you say, pal.”

---

As it turns out, Steve was right. And as much as Y/N hates to admit it, Steve was right about most things.

A few months after some mutual pining, Peggy Carter, the hot British international student that’s studying political science at Columbia grew more balls than Bucky and Steve ever could and asked the latter out on a date.

Y/N liked Peggy. She had gorgeous brown hair that was somehow always perfectly curled, warm eyes, but always wore seductively red lipstick. She looked like a drug, and if she wasn’t dating Steve, Y/N was convinced that she would ask the woman out herself.

Steve had stumbled into the girl’s apartment after their first date. Peggy had taken him dancing in a place in the East Village that played swing music and turned a blind eye when college students with sketchy looking fake IDs ordered cocktails. It’s not like they could do much harm anyway, most college kids who went there hopeless romantics who want nothing more than to dance with their dates with a little liquid courage.

As opposed to hopping on the subway slightly tipsy and potentially falling asleep before he reached in Midtown, Steve stumbled into his friend’s apartment, tipsy and high on the drug that took form in Peggy Carter.

“Hiya,” Steve said with a dopey, crooked smile. Y/N, Wanda, and Nat looked between themselves and Steve with widened eyes.

There were red lipstick stains all over his face.

Natasha smirks at him, “Looks like you had a good time with the missus.”

Steve points at Y/N, his eyes slightly lidded from drowsiness, “I told you it was hot when girls make the first move.”

Y/N lets out a snort. “It’s hot when Peggy Carter does anything, Stevie.”

His enormous grin widens. “Well, you got that fucking right.”

The three girls collective gag at the picture of Steve defiling the girl as Steve rolls his eyes at them, plopping down on the grey IKEA couch the girls were occupying. The couch was a moving in present from him and Bucky and despite how cheap it looked, they refused to allow the girls to get rid of it. If they were being honest, the girls didn’t have the heart to do so anyway.

“Do you mind if I crash here tonight?” Steve mumbles into Y/N’s lap.

“I’m staying at my brother’s tonight anyway,” Wanda says as she reaches over and runs a hand amusedly through Steve’s hair, “You can take my bed if you want, Steve.”

“No, s’okay. I’m comfy here,” he says, voice muffled by Y/N’s thighs.

“You’re a big fucking baby, you know that?” Y/N jokingly says, slapping Steve’s back. He screeches an ‘ow’ but doesn’t move an inch.

Nat smiles at them. Before she met Y/N and Steve, she would’ve been convinced they were dating. But, her heart is just as full knowing the incredibly wholesome and healthy friendship the two share. She reaches down to stroke Steve’s head before saying, “Y/N, I’m gonna go ahead and use the bathroom first—you seem occupied. Goodnight Steve.”

“Nighty night, Nat,” he murmurs. With Wanda, then Natasha stroking his head, sleep comes a lot faster than he intends.

“Steve?” Y/N asks him. It was her turn to slowly stroke his head.

“Mmhmm?”

“Did you let Bucky know you were staying over?” she asks, Mom-mode activating.

She feels her thighs rumble with Steve’s laughter. “He’ll live,” he tells her.

“He’s your best friend, hon. You gotta keep him updating on this kinda stuff.”

“But you’re my best friend too,” he sighs sleepily and Y/N’s heart swells with pride.

The corner of her mouth quirks into a smile, “Really?”

“Yeah, ‘course you duffus. ‘Sides, he probably thinks ‘m getting laid or somethin’.”

“You’re gross.”

“Eh, you love me.”

She did indeed. She let him fall asleep like that with a slight smile on his face, thinking about how well his date went. Y/N slowly slide out from underneath Steve, placing a blanket on top of him. She placed a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol on the coffee table for him when he woke, along with a sticky note saying:

Gonna be up early tomorrow, lover boy. Take whatever leftovers you want from the fridge. Also, invite Peggy to movie night :)

---

Per Y/N’s request, Steve did ask Peggy to come to movie night with him. To which, she excitedly agreed.

And against Steve’s assumptions, Y/N seemed more excited to have her over than he was.

Steve and Peggy entered the apartment hand in hand, with Steve carrying a takeout bag and Peggy nursing a bottle of white wine. Bucky trailed in behind them, carrying a pack of beers.

“They have a cute place,” Peggy comments, slipping her shoes off and following Steve into the living room.

“Don’t tell it to their face, though. One compliment and they’ll fall in love with you and you’ll never be allowed out of their sight again,” Bucky jokes from behind them, wandering into the kitchen to set the beer down.

Despite their five-person gathering being a six-person one that night, Peggy fit right in. Over cheesy horror movies, glasses of wine and swigs of beer, and copious amounts of takeout, the bombshell of a Brit felt very at home with Steve’s friends. To her surprise, none of them were jealous of her—Steve was incredibly attractive and the perfect guy, so she was sure it was impossible for him to have female friends without them throwing themselves at him.

She was wrong.

She really got a full understanding of their friendship—especially Steve’s friendship with Y/N—when she wandered down the hall to find more blankets. She heard two voices quietly discussing in someone’s room. She would’ve walked away because she didn’t want to eavesdrop until she heard her name.

“Peggy seems to be really enjoying herself.” She recognizes the voice to be Y/N’s.

“God, I hope so. Thanks again for inviting her.” Steve’s voice this time.

“You were the one who invited her, jackass,” she hears Y/N say sarcastically.

She hears Steve groan, “Don’t even start with that. What I meant was…thanks for giving her a chance.”

Softer this time, she hears Y/N say, “Steve, you’re my best friend. I didn’t like your other girlfriends because they seemed like shitty people. Peggy is…Peggy is good for you. Like, really good.”

“Okay now…” he laughs.

“No, I’m serious. If you didn’t ask her out, I was really fucking close to taking her for myself,” she finished before she hears a yelp followed by a soft thud and mattress springs squeaking. She can’t help herself and takes a peek inside the room to find Steve tickling Y/N on the bed. Peggy smiles to herself at the closeness of the friendship.

She’s about to walk away when she suddenly feels the feeling in the room shift.

“Steve, I think I’m gonna ask out Bucky.”

She hears an excited gasp, “Fucking finally! I’ve been saying you guys would be great together for years!”

She hears Y/N shush him, “He’s in the other room Steve, shut up!”

Peggy hears Steve laugh, “Sorry, sorry. Why now, though?”

“Dunno. I guess I just like seeing you happy with Peggy. And I don’t know, it makes me think that I deserve that happiness too,” Y/N says softly and Peggy’s heart melts.

“I’m proud of you, Y/N,” she hears Steve say. Despite not knowing Y/N that long, she’s proud of her too.

“Thanks, Steve.”

---

Y/N doesn’t get a chance to ask Bucky out.

As Y/N, Nat, and Wanda were preparing brownies for movie night when they got a text on their group chat:

Bucky: Can’t make it to movie night

Nat: got a hot date or smth?

Bucky: ;)

“Y/N…” Natasha calls out.

“Mhmm?” the girl calls out. “Gimme a second, I gotta take the brownies before they burn.”

Natasha sighs and walks into the kitchen to find Y/N gingerly setting the pan of brownies onto the counter. Wordlessly, Nat shows Y/N her phone with the group chat open.

The smile immediately falls from Y/N’s face.

“Y/N…” the red-head starts before getting vehemently cut off.

“I should be happy for him, right? My best friend just scored a date—”

“Y/N—”

“I was happy when Steve started going out with Peggy, why can’t I be happy Bucky found someone too—”

“Y/N!” Natasha says, more firmly this time.

“Why did you show me this, Nat?” she hisses, whipping her head and staring accusingly at her.

Natasha narrows her eyes at her, “You fucking know why. This was on the group chat, but I wanted to be there if you needed me when you saw it.”

Y/N’s eyes soften, “Nat, I’m sorry—”

Natasha cuts her off and immediately envelops her in a hug. “Don’t be,” she whispers, patting her head comfortingly, “You’re too good for Bucky, anyways.”

Y/N scoffs into her shoulder, “That’s my best friend, asshole. And Steve always said we’d be good together.”

“Steve has no fucking clue what he’s talking about.”

Y/N laughs a little harder, forcing the tears she was trying to keep in slowly stream down her face. Natasha immediately notices, and wipes them away with her thumbs, “Don’t cry, sweetheart. And don’t think about Bucky. ‘Sides, it’s movie night and—”

“—I need to leave my grievances at the door, yeah I know,” she finishes with a sad smile on her face. Y/N shakes her head, “That saying is kicking me in the ass, isn’t it?”

Ten minutes later, Wanda emerges from the bathroom, screeching in frustration from Bucky’s texts in the group chat. Y/N tries her best to tell Wanda that she’s over it, but Wanda is strangely good at reading people (it doesn’t help that she’s also a psychology major). The girls usually love Wanda’s weird sixth sense, but Y/N couldn’t help but find it quite inconvenient at this very moment.

Half an hour after that, Steve arrives at the girls’ apartment, this time without Peggy. The first thing he does is wrap Y/N in a bear hug, despite her protests at everyone making a big deal out of it. Steve doesn’t care, only hugs her tighter.

The four of them huddle around the TV, watching whatever movie was next on their queue and catching up on life. They tried really hard to ignore the awkward tension and the lack of the Bucky-ness the group had. It was movie night, after all. The perfect bubble that was their movie night felt a little different than it normally had.

---

Bucky misses movie nights for the next few weeks.

With the end of junior year approaching, the group of friends rarely had time to socialize outside their study groups except for their weekly tradition. With Bucky gone doing whatever Bucky was doing, Y/N didn’t see him for weeks on end. The only interaction they had was the occasional meme being sent to the group chat or like on Instagram.

She missed him. But deep down inside of her, she wasn’t that all surprised.

What did surprise her was Bucky’s sudden appearance at their last movie night before the end of junior year.

They were halfway through their first movie—Wanda was teaching Peggy how to braid a flower crown, Steve had agreed to let Natasha paint his nails a red and blue ombre while he played a game of Connect Four with Y/N, all while a random movie played on the screen—when they heard the front door unlock.

“Sorry I’m late!” called a voice. It was distinctly Bucky’s, but the female giggle that followed was not.

Bucky and an unnamed blonde materialize in the living room and everyone looks at the pair in shock. Y/N could feel a few of her friend’s stares be redirected to her, but she can’t seem to overt her eyes from the blonde.

Her hair seemed like it was literally golden as it flows down her light-green sundress. She was wrapped around Bucky’s arm—the arm with his tattoo sleeve on it, the arm that she loved tracing the patterns of the tattoo with during movie night.

Peggy breaks the ice first, “Hi, Bucky.”

“Oh, you have an accent!” the blonde squeals and Y/N can feel her eyes roll. Wanda scoffs beside her.

“Bucky, can I talk to you for a sec?” Y/N asks, more like demands, as she stands up abruptly and walks briskly past Bucky towards the hall, away from the view of the living room.

Once they were out of earshot from their friends, she hisses, “What are you doing here?”

Bucky laughs almost mockingly, “What do you mean, ‘what am I doing here?, It’s movie night, isn’t it?”

Y/N sighs tiredly, “Bucky, we haven’t seen you for weeks. Then, you show up with some blonde girl that we’ve never met?”

“I’ve been busy. What, am I not allowed to be busy anymore? The world doesn’t revolve around movie night,” Bucky snarls at her.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, that’s not what I meant and you fucking know it,” she growls back. “You’ve been radio silent for weeks—you pretty much ghosted all of us. Hell, if it wasn’t for Steve living with you, we would’ve thought you were fucking dead! But we gave you space because we aren’t helicopter-friends. But then, you show up after ignoring us for weeks with some chick I’ve never seen before at my fucking house on fucking movie night?! Can you see why I’m a little pissed off right now?”

“The British chick is here! Why the hell can she be here but not Dolores?” Bucky bites back, his voice rising.

“Because Peggy was invited to my house and Dolores fucking wasn’t!” Y/N says aggressively, her voice nearing a shout.

“This isn’t your tradition, Y/N. You want to control everything about this friend group and trust me, sweetheart, we’re all getting sick of it.”

“Oh, you can’t fucking do that.”

“Do what?”

“Talk like you’re still a fucking part of this friend group.”

“What, you’re gonna kick me out of your clique because I’ve been busy? Because I have a life?”

“No, because you’ve been a shitty fucking friend!” Y/N shouts, chest heaving, and face red.

Bucky’s eyes widen in shock. Sure, they’ve had points in their friendship where they haven’t communicated in a few days, but never this long. And Y/N had most certainly never been this angry with him before.

That seemed to knock some sense back into him. “Y/N—”

“Get the fuck out, Bucky.”

“Wha—”

“I said get out,” she says, eerily quiet.

So, he did. Bucky stormed out of the hallway and grabbed Dolores before marching out of the apartment. When Y/N sat back down with the rest of their friends, she could feel their stares burning into her face, but all she did was reach for the remote and continue playing the movie.

---

After Y/N’s argument with Bucky, he stops showing up game nights. They even make a new group chat without Bucky in it (because apparently, kicking him out of the apartment was fine but kicking him out of the group chat was too mean). Despite not really knowing what exactly was said, everyone understood what happened that night. To be frank, they were all waiting for someone to snap. A confrontation with him was long overdue.

The friend group is different without Bucky’s presence. Not better, not worse, just different.

It was clear that there would be awkward tension among the friends immediately after the argument. Wanda and Nat immediately sided with Y/N and clearly wanted nothing to do with Bucky. Steve was a trickier subject. Wanda, Nat, and Y/N all understood that they couldn’t force Steve not to be friends with him, so they all accepted him as their neutral party.

After a few months, their different was starting to feel normal.

But Y/N still missed Bucky. Despite her years of pining, Bucky was still her best friend. He was still the guy who walked her to her morning lectures after his run and got her wine drunk after a guy rejected her. Y/N missed that version of Bucky—she just wasn’t sure if he existed anymore.

Based on periodic updates that Steve gives her, Bucky is still with Dolores. “He’s happy,” Steve tells her. “Different, but happy.”

After a few months of living without Bucky in her life, she starts to blame herself. Had she been overreacting? Most probably. Did she really need to kick him out of her apartment? No.

“Was what you did justified though? Definitely,” Steve would always remind her. Some days she believes him, some days she doesn’t.

Still, her life begins to reach some semblance of normal. Movie nights are still once a week, but they’ve changed from a place where they have pseudo-therapy sessions lead by Wanda while a cheesy movie plays in the background.

It was about halfway into their senior year when Steve drops something on them during one of their movie night conversations.

“I might move to London,” Steve says out of the blue.

“What?” Y/N turns to him in shock.

Steve stares blankly at his lap, fidgeting with the nearly empty glass of red wine. “Peggy wants to move back to London after we graduate,” he says softly. “She wants me to go with her.”

It was Wanda’s turn to ask, “Well, why doesn’t she stay here with you?”

“Her family’s in London.”

“And your family is here, Steve,” Y/N replies softly, “We’re here.”

Steve sighs and runs a hand over his face before releasing a frustrated cry, “I don’t know what to do, guys.”

Natasha looks at him sympathetically before grasping his hand tightly, “Have you talked to Bucky about this?”

“Not yet…he’s got a lot on his plate right now,” Steve starts, warily looking at the girls sitting around him.

“What do you mean?” Natasha presses.

“Bucky proposed to Dolores a few days ago…” Steve sighs.

“Well…” Y/N starts, trying to find the right words, “Congrats to them.”

“Yeah,” Steve replies lamely before downing the remainder of his red wine. “I love Peggy, I really do,” Steve starts, “but I don’t know if London is right for me.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow at him, “What do you mean?”

Steve sighs again, “I don’t know how to explain it but…lately it feels like our relationship isn’t real anymore⁠—like she’s using me as a prop. It feels like she’s dragging me along because she feels like she has to. I really do love her but going to London with her just doesn’t feel right.”

“And what does feel right, Steve?” Wanda asks him gently.

Steve answer in a heartbeat, “New York. With you guys.”

Y/N offers him her kindest eyes. She murmurs softly, “Steve, I think you have your answer then.”

---

Steve stayed in New York.

He was a little heartbroken by Peggy’s reaction though; she simply acknowledged him and went straight back to packing, not even bothering to fight for their relationship. Maybe there wasn’t a whole lot to fight for after all.

Bucky also married Dolores.

After their graduation, Bucky and Dolores eloped. They didn’t want the pressure of an actual wedding, so they got on a flight to Vegas and got hitched in their graduation gowns. The reassured everyone (especially their parents) that they would have a real wedding for everyone else afterwards.

Y/N, Wanda, and Natasha finally got their own places. Wanda was moving in with her brother, Pietro, into an apartment in Morningside Heights. They were both starting their master’s at Columbia (Wanda in psychology and Pietro in exercise physiology), so they wanted to live closer together. Natasha was finally moving in with her boyfriend, Bruce. They were a very private couple, so they weren’t at all surprised when they told them that they were moving into their own place in Park Slope, close to Bruce’s research job and Nat’s marketing firm.

Y/N was really close to downsizing to a studio when Steve rolled his eyes and told her, “Don’t be an idiot, I’ll move in with you. That place is too nice to give up. Besides, Bucky and Dolores are looking for a place to move into.”

So, what was once Y/N, Wanda, and Nat’s apartment was now Y/N and Steve’s.

Not much changed about the apartment: Y/N kept her old room and Steve moved into Wanda’s. Natasha’s room had the most natural light, so they turned it into an office. Steve, Y/N learned, was the ideal roommate—his stuff was never messy, he helped run errands, and he was a delight to be around.

If it was possible for the two best friends to get any closer, they did.

Y/N fell into an easy routine with Steve, almost like it was second nature. After both taking the summer off, Steve started his law degree at Columbia and Y/N started her job as a Staff Writer at the New York Times.

They woke up at around seven and Steve got started on breakfast while Y/N used the bathroom first. As soon as she got out, breakfast would be waiting for her, so she got started on making coffee for her and Steve. Steve didn’t usually take long in the bathroom, so they ate breakfast together, enjoying each other’s company before their day started. After they both got dressed, they both walked to the subway and rode the L train before they had to split ways: Steve Uptown to Columbia and Y/N to the New York Times building. Steve usually got out of classes first, so he usually ran some errands for the place or studied in a café in the Village somewhere so to let Y/N get home before he did. She loved making dinner, so Steve usually came home to her blasting music and cooking.

The funniest part about their arrangement is that it was barely an arrangement: they didn’t really agree on splitting up their day this way. It just sort of…happened. It was natural but it felt right to the both of them and that’s all they could ever ask for.

The arbitrary lines of being roommates slowly began disappearing as well.

Four months into living together, Y/N and Steve started sharing a bed.

It wasn’t romantic, but more like a necessity. Steve had walked by Y/N’s room when he heard slight whimpering. He immediately swung open the door and found her lying on her bed, clutching her stomach in pain with tears streaming down her face.

Steve immediately lost his composure, “Y/N? Are you okay?!”

“It fucking hurts Steve,” she mumbles, “Why does bleeding out of your vagina fucking hurt so much?”

Steve’s eyes immediately soften and he lets out a low hum, “Y/N, I thought you were dying.”

“I am dying. This heat pad isn’t doing shit!”

Steve laughs and makes his way to the bed, lifting the covers and sliding beside her. Y/N immediately shifts so that Steve can be more comfortable. He wraps his arms around her, making sure to put his palm flat on her stomach. In the mess of tangled limbs, they fall asleep like that and take the most relaxing nap of their lives.

Steve shares a bed Y/N that night. And the night after that. And the night after that.

Soon, Steve barely slept in his old room anymore. It got to a point where it didn’t even make sense for him to have his own room: Y/N’s room was bigger, closer to the bathroom, had a comfier bed, and Y/N was in it.

The two spend a weekend clearing out Steve’s new room and moving all his stuff into Y/N’s. They turn they put the grey IKEA pullout couch inside along with an array of painting supplies and camera equipment, effectively turning it into a home studio. They like the apartment better this way.

A few months later, the two get a dog together. The mini Australian Shepard has a gorgeous coat, different coloured eyes, and a scar that stretches across his face, a reminder as to why they rescued him in the first place. The renamed him Mando (because his face reminded them of the Mandalorian helmet) and he was like their child. He was full of energy, so Steve loved brining him along for runs in the park. But he was also quiet, reserved, and sensitive so Y/N adored cuddling with him on the couch.

It was their own little family. Steve, Y/N, and Mando.

Movie nights were still a weekly occurrence, but it wasn’t always at their place anymore. Almost six months after Steve moved in with Y/N, they hosted movie night at their place again.

It wasn’t as if Wanda and Natasha hadn’t seen Y/N and Steve since then, but it was the first time they really felt the changes in their old place.

“You redecorated,” Nat commented with a smile. She noticed there were more pictures up: some of their entire friend group, some of just Y/N and Steve. There was also a hanging shelf above the TV (something that Y/N had always talked about installing but never did) that housed some pottery and other knick-knacks Y/N and Steve have collected over the years.

Wanda notices the dog crate and bed in the corner of the living room, along with a basket of toys for the dog. She asks, “Where’s Mando?”

“Steve took him when he went to get the takeout. He likes to cuddle if that’s what you’re asking, Wanda,” Y/N answers amusedly.

“Whathcu do with our old rooms?” Nat hums as she takes a seat on their new couch. She wondered where the grey IKEA one went; it was unlikely that Y/N had the heart to throw it away.

Y/N sits down beside her holding three wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. She pops the cork and pours them all a drink before saying, “We turned your old room into an office and Wanda’s into an art studio slash guest bedroom. That’s where the grey pullout went.” Y/N finished her sentence absentmindedly, almost like she didn’t realize the implication she made.

Wanda and Nat smirk at each other.

Nat takes a sip of her wine before nonchalantly saying, “You know, I always knew you and Steve would end up together.”

Y/N chokes on her wine, “I’m sorry…what?”

Wanda chuckles at her, “You live together, you share a bed, you got a dog.”

Y/N hums nervously, “We’re not dating.”

“Seems like you’re already married if you ask me,” Wanda counters with a smirk.

Before Y/N could get any more embarrassed, the front door opened and Mando came bolting inside, followed by Steve who laughed as the dog jumped on the couch and licked its occupants.

“Oh, Mando you’re so cute,” Wanda gushed before she immediately became occupied and played with Mando.

Natasha looked on with a knowing smirk as Y/N watched Steve approach, both wearing matching smiles, and Steve presses a kiss on her forehead.

“I got Lo Mein if that’s okay. I tried to make it to the pizza place, but I guess Mando likes the smell of Chinese,” Steve says quietly to her before setting the takeout on the coffee table beside the glasses of wine.

She smiles at him, “That’s okay, thanks for grabbing it anyways.”

“I figured you wanted time with the girls to catch up,” Steve shrugs before hopping over the back of the couch to sit next to you.

As the movie started and everyone started eating their serving of food and wine, Y/N assumed the natural position of leaning against Steve’s chest with his arm thrown around the back of the couch. The smell of his cologne is so synonymous with safety to Y/N, so she naturally leans closer to him.

Halfway through the first movie, Y/N catches Nat staring at her and Steve with a smirk. Nat sends a wink her way which sends Y/N’s face in a red flush.

She averts her eyes and looks back at the movie. We are not dating, Y/N thinks to herself, this is just natural.

---

It was about a year after Y/N and Steve started living together when they both got invitations to Bucky and Dolores' wedding.

Their group chat was blowing up with questions like ‘should we even go to the wedding?’ and ‘won’t it be awkward for everyone involved?’

Steve already knew that he was going. Despite everything, Bucky was still like his brother. They still saw each other almost weekly and although he wasn’t Dolores’ biggest fan just through negative association, he was happy that Bucky was immensely happy.

Y/N, on the other hand, needed more convincing.

“Jesus, I wish he never invited me to his goddamn wedding,” Y/N complained, her head buried in Steve’s shoulder as they sat on the couch, “Is this his version of a punishment? The anxiety of choosing whether or not I should come to his wedding?”

Steve rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, “Y/N, he did use to be your best friend.”

“Before I told him to get out of my life and that I never wanted to see him again,” she states bluntly. “God, I was so fucking stupid.”

“Hey,” Steve says firmly, “The both of you were acting pretty stupid, we’ve established that. But you’ve grown up. Bucky did invite you, which means he wants you to come.”

Y/N stays silent as Steve continues, “I know you miss him, Y/N. And clearly, he misses you too. Maybe this is your first step at mending your friendship.”

“If there’s anything left of it,” Y/N says pathetically.

“You won’t know if you don’t go to the wedding.”

So, she ends up going to the wedding.

The actual ceremony went by in a blur. Dolores was wearing a beautiful gown with gorgeous floral lace and Bucky in a wonderfully fitted velvet suit. Y/N thought the first time she would see Bucky in years would be filled with melancholy, but Y/N just felt better that Steve (from beside the groom) was sending her reassuring smiles the entire ceremony.

The couple was technically already married, so they didn’t have a licensed officiant. Instead, they had an array of friends, including Steve, the best man, say different parts of the pre-made script. It was fun, lighthearted, and had Bucky written all over it—something that Y/N missed about him the most.

At the reception, she took advantage of the open bar. She spent her time socializing with Natasha, Wanda, and Sam, a mutual friend who became an Air Force officer straight out of college. The night was still young, so Steve spent most of his time with the wedding party, occasionally sending Y/N texts like:

Steve: Miss you!

Steve: How many drinks have you had so far?

Steve: You made sure to lock Mando’s crate, right?

Steve: Did I tell you that you looked rlly pretty tonight?

Steve: I can’t wait until everyone gets drunk so I can hang out w you :)

“Texting at my wedding? I thought you loved parties, Y/N,” a recognizable voice says amusedly.

Y/N’s head snaps up and she’s met with a face that she hasn’t seen in years.

“Bucky—”

Bucky cuts her off, “Before you say anything, I’m sorry. You were right, I was being a really shitty friend and I didn’t have the right to ignore you, yell at you, or just bring random people into your home like I owned the place. I just…really missed you. You’re my best friend and my life hasn’t really been the same without you.”

Y/N is rendered speechless. Her mind blanks as she stares into Bucky’s watery eyes, begging for forgiveness. She says nothing and instead wraps her arms around Bucky, pulling him close. The man immediately wraps his arms around her like they’ve never left.

After the wedding, Bucky starts to show up to movie night again.

It takes a whole lot of coaxing to let Natasha and Wanda allow Bucky back into their lives, but eventually, they come around. It wasn’t like college though, but it was nice, nonetheless. One night, Bucky revealed that movie nights are when he feels the most like himself again. The rest of them smile wordlessly at him, but confusion does seep into the back of their minds.

A year since the wedding, the group finally fully accepts Bucky back into their lives as if he never left. He catches up with Natasha during impromptu lunches, takes Wanda to dinner if she’s ever in Midtown, watches the Yankees play with Steve to take his mind off of law school, and drops lunch off to Y/N at the New York Times building if he’s in the area.

Bucky truly misses his friends, but somewhere deep in his heart, he misses Y/N a little bit more.

The rest of them also notice how little Bucky talks about Dolores when they’re together.

They found it strange at first; normally, husbands loved talking about their wives. But Bucky never brought her to their outings, to movie night (despite everyone insisting that they’d be happy to have her over), and rarely brought her up in conversation unless asked.

Y/N found it especially strange. In a mature attempt to move on from her college crush on Bucky, she tried to make amends with Dolores. Turns out, the blonde was an adorable girl from Brooklyn that absolutely adores Bucky. She’s sensitive but hilarious and Y/N loves spending time with her.

She also noticed how much Dolores talked about Bucky. It was clear how much she adored him, so it was almost unfathomable to her how Bucky didn’t talk about the wonderful woman nearly as much as she talked about him.

“Don’t you find it a little weird?” Y/N asked him as he was brushing his teeth. Steve was concentrated on her face despite toothpaste foaming around his mouth. Y/N sat on the bathroom counter, feet swinging as she absentmindedly played with an elastic.

Steve spit in the sink before speaking, “I mean, you know Buck. He’s a pretty private guy.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t shut up about crazy stories he’s had with you and Bucky loves you. I just find it a little funky that he doesn’t act the same with Dolores,” Y/N explained.

Steve sighs and gargles the rest of the toothpaste out of his mouth. “I guess I never thought about it that way… They have only been married for a little over two years though. Maybe they’re still figuring out the ropes of their marriage?”

Y/N shrugs with a sigh, hopping off the counter and stripping off her shirt and pants. Steve tries his hardest not to stare but he can’t help but stare at the curve of her body as she reaches to slip on one of his hoodies she likes to wear for bed.

Steve isn’t really sure where his relationship with Y/N stands, to be honest. It’s funny to him—they act like an actual married couple, minus the romance. Acting domesticated with her just feels so natural to Steve, but he’s scared putting a label on anything will change the dynamic, so he stays silent and cherishes the domestic moments he has with her.

“You’re right, I’m probably overthinking it,” Y/N mumbles before slipping past him, “I’m headed off to bed. Don’t take too long.”

Y/N doesn’t notice Steve’s hard blush as he scrambles to put on some pyjamas to join her in bed.

---

“I’m nervous.”

“Jesus, Steve. You’ll be fine! You’re the top of your class at fucking Columbia, so there’s no way you failed the bar,” Y/N cheers on excitedly from behind him. She rubs his shoulders as he stares at his inbox, too afraid to click on the email titled ‘New York State Bar Exam Results.’

Steve’s foot taps incessantly, “I’m still too scared to look.”

Y/N reaches over his shoulder and kisses his cheek. “Fine,” she says, “I’ll look for you.” She clicks on the email and scrolls down, searching for Steve’s exam number.

After a few seconds, Y/N hesitantly asks, “Steve?”

“Mhmm?” he replies, his head in his hands.

“What’s your exam number again?”

“S-24601,” he replies quickly.

Y/N squeals and hugs him from the back, pressing kisses all over his neck. “You fucking passed, Steve!” she squeals.

“I did?!”

“Of course you did, dummy!”

Steve laughs in excitement and disbelief, grabbing Y/N by the waist and spinning her off the ground. Mando barks excitedly, jumping up happily against Steve’s thighs.

“You did it!” Y/N smiles down at him, her cheeks hurting from all her laughing.

The two celebrate by hosting movie night at their place with extra food, desserts, and ridiculous amounts of alcohol. Wanda brings Vis, the high school chemistry teacher she’s been seeing, Nat brings Bruce, and Bucky finally comes around and brings Dolores along for the celebration. Even Sam, who happened to be off duty, was able to come to the celebration.

Despite it technically being movie night, most of the night was spent trading funny stories about Steve, emptying bottles and bottles of wine and beer, and finally letting loose for the first time in a long time.

Around ten in the evening, the board games came out and the group of twenty-somethings started playing games with a drinking twist. Y/N had been attached to Steve by the hip all night (largely because he always seemed to have his arms around her), but she couldn’t complain. The several glasses of wine she had did make it easier for her to ignore Wanda and Natasha’s smirks.

It also made it easier for her to be ignorant of how awkward Dolores felt at the gathering. Y/N sincerely like the girl, but she was unaware of her discomfort until around one in the morning. Most people had left, and it was just Steve, Y/N, and Bucky cleaning up.

“Y/N, I’m gonna take a quick shower,” Steve calls out to Y/N as she washes the dishes with Bucky picking up trash in the living room. “Goodnight Bucky!” Steve calls out before disappearing.

“Goodnight, Steve,” Bucky shouts back before walking into the kitchen. He leans against the counter and watches Y/N as she does the dishes. Y/N notices his presence, then notices the lack of someone else’s presence.

“Hey Buck, where’d Dolores run off to?” Y/N hums, drying the last of the dishes.

Bucky shrugs, “Took an Uber and went home early.”

Y/N turns around to face him, “Shit, Buck. You didn’t have to stay—”

“Nah, I wanted to. She’s probably fine,” he answers nonchalantly.

“Probably?”

Bucky doesn’t respond.

Y/N takes a deep breath and fiddles with the dishtowel in her hands before saying, “Bucky, why is this the first time in three years of marriage that Dolores has come to a friend get together?”

Bucky’s jaw unhinges a little, “What do you mean?”

Y/N sighs and sets the dish towel down. She takes a deep breath before saying, “We’ve asked you to invite her to come over for years, but you always make excuses for her. You don’t nearly talk about her as much as she does about you, and I know that for a fact because I’ve hung out with Dolores on multiple occasions. Bucky…is everything alright between you and Dolores?”

Bucky stares intently at her for a few seconds before his resolve crumbles. His eyes lose its intensity and are replaced with tiredness as he drags his hand across his face. “Dot and I…” Bucky starts, “are going through a bit of a…rough patch.”

“Bucky—”

“I made a mistake marrying her,” he says bluntly.

“What?” Y/N says in shock. Every time she’s spent time with Dolores, she had been nothing but lovely. She’s perfect for Bucky—she doesn’t understand where he’s coming from.

“I love Dolores but I…”

“But…?”

Bucky doesn’t say anything. Instead, he crosses the kitchen floor in two long strides and grabs Y/N by the face, kissing her fiercely.

Y/N freezes and her eyes widen in shock. What the fuck was happening? was the only thing her brain could possibly register at the point.

Bucky pulls away but the grip on her face doesn’t fade, “But I’m in love with you, Y/N. And I know for a fact that you love me too.”

He leans in for another kiss, but Y/N pushes him away. “Bucky stop!” she says, harsher than she intends, but she doesn’t regret it.

Bucky stares at her, dumbfounded, but she continues, “That was a long, long time ago. And Jesus, Bucky you’re married!”

He shakes his head, “I don’t need to be forever—”

“—And you’re drunk!” she explains in exasperation.

“But I know some part of you still loves me. And God, I love you too. All those years without you and it finally got through to my thick skull,” Bucky argues.

“But what about Dolores?” she whispers.

“Fuck Dolores,” he says. Bucky reaches for her again, but Y/N steps away.

“Bucky, I can’t,” Y/N cries. “Maybe there’s some part of me that loves you, that may always love you. But there’s a bigger part of me that loves what I have right now. Bucky, I’ve never felt so safe before. So happy, so cared for, so loved. I know it’s selfish, but I can’t give away the happiness and security that I deserve to explore what my life would be like with you because I love—”

Y/N stops abruptly, her voice catching in her throat.

“Because you love who, Y/N?” Bucky asks. She notices how his eyes have become glassy and how his shoulders had slumped slightly.

Because I love Steve, Y/N thinks. But she doesn’t find the courage to say it. Bucky can see it in her eyes, though.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Bucky doesn’t have to say his name who she’s talking about.

Y/N is silent, her heart thumping so loud her she’s afraid Bucky can hear it.

Her silence is enough for him, “Ah.”

Bucky waits a few more seconds before saying, “When did you know?”

Y/N gulps and lets out a shaky breath. When did she know? She racks her brain but can’t think of a specific time. Part of her thinks that she always knew. She was so natural around Steve. So safe and carefree. Steve was there when that perfect bubble of her friendship with Bucky popped, and he even stayed with her after. He was the one that helped her mend her heart and, in the process, built himself a spot inside without even realizing it. Her imperfect bubble, her lens of the world, may have been broken, but Steve was inside, and Y/N knew that it’s all the really mattered.

I love Steve, she confessed to herself. She felt like she was Cher in Clueless, with the fountain of her emotions erupting inside her. Bucky could clearly see it on her face as he smiled sadly.

“Did I ever have a chance?” he whispers.

“Yeah... A long time ago,” Y/N answers softly, not trusting her voice.

“Will I ever get the chance again?”

Y/N shakes her head softly, “Don’t wait for me, Bucky.”

Bucky smiles sadly at her, a tear escaping his eye. She reaches for him, but Bucky shakes his head, “See you around, Y/N.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

Y/N feels like she’s on autopilot. Adrenaline is still coursing through her system; coupled with alcohol and a whole lot of courage, her feet bring her to the bathroom before even realizing. She doesn’t realize that she’s turning the doorknob or stripping completely. She barely registers her stepping into the steamy shower before and she definitely doesn’t fully register her tapping Steve on the shoulder, reaching up, and kissing him fiercely.

He pulls away first, “Y/N?”

She kisses him in response. This time, he responds but pulls away a few seconds later, “Why are you doing this? Are you drunk?”

“Yeah, it’s not why I’m doing this though,” she says, voice raspy.

“Why then?”

“Because I love you.”

“Oh,” was Steve’s response before kissing her again. The two sloppily make out like teenagers discovering sex for the first time before Steve pulls away again.

“I also love you, you know,” he says lazily against her lips. He feels her smile.

“That’s good,” she replies before kissing him once more.

The night lasts a lot longer than both of them intend. But it wasn’t like they were complaining.

---

Life had a strange way of playing out sometimes.

It seemed as if Y/N and Steve blinked and the rest of their lives fell straight into their laps.

When they meet new people, they always ask them how long they've been together or when they started dating.

“A lifetime ago,” Steve would always say, his eyes lighting up and his face flushing slightly.

After the night that Steve learned he passed the bar, Y/N and Steve’s relationship didn’t change all that much, mostly because they acted like they were married in the first place. They already help hands in public, gave each other kisses on the cheek when their friends were around, and they acted more domesticated than a lot of actual married couples only months after they officially started dating.

In fact, most of their friends didn’t even realize they had started dating until almost six months later, Y/N made an off-hand comment about how Steve was secretly really kinky in bed.

The really didn’t have an engagement either.

After two years of dating, five years of living together, and nine years of knowing each other, Steve just decided to get straight to the point.

“You wanna get married, Y/N?” Steve asked her. He had just come back from his job as a corporate lawyer. He honestly hated it but needed the experience and the money to pay off his student loans. His grand plan after he was no longer drowning in debt was to become an Assistant District Attorney.

Y/N stopped cutting the vegetables and turned toward Steve who was leaning against the fridge, suit jacket slung across one shoulder and top button his dress shirt undone. She raises a brow at him, “Pardon me?”

“You wanna get married?” he repeats nonchalantly.

“Now? I’m making dinner.”

“Whenever you want, doll.”

She sets the knife down and slowly walks towards him. “This isn’t you proposing, is it?” she cackles.

Steve shakes his head and laughs, meeting her halfway. “No, I thought of this while I was riding the subway back home. I don’t even have a ring, honey,” he explains. “If I’m honest, it feels like we’ve been married for the past five years, so I kinda forgot that we aren’t.”

Y/N purses her lips in concentration before saying, “That’s fair.”

Steve stares at her for a few more seconds, “So…?”

“Do you want to get married?” she asks him this time, stepping forward and grasping his hands.

“I mean…yeah,” Steve says with a grin, “Telling people you’re my wife is a lot cooler than telling people you’re my girlfriend. Besides, if I ever commit a crime, you have the right not to testify against me because of marital privilege—”

He’s cut off with howling laughter and Y/N burying her face into his chest as he wraps his arms around her. Steve’s tired, really tired, but coming home to her was what he reminded himself he was working for.

“Should we do the whole proposal thing, too?” Y/N asks him after her laughter dies down.

“I don’t mind proposing if it’s something you want to do,” he tells her, pressing his lips to her head.

“Meh. I don’t really care,” she says cheekily before pressing her lips to his.

After their wedding—just like Y/N and Steve predicted—their lives didn’t change all too much. The only noticeable changes were that they were being addressed as Y/L/N-Rogers in the mail, but their lives were pretty much the same.

Their friends found it fascinating: when they had gotten married, they felt that their relationship dynamic had changed a little. But then again, they supposed Steve and Y/N had been acting like they’ve been married since the ripe age of twenty. It’s almost like they skipped a few steps in their relationship and went from friends to acting like they’ve been married for forty years.

The biggest change in their relationship came three years after their wedding when their twins, Avery and Jameson Y/L/N-Rogers were born into the world.

Steve and Y/N were natural parents and they loved their kids. When the twins were three, they took them on their first road trip to the Adirondacks. They spent the weekend at a lakefront cabin, swimming, canoeing, and hiking. When asked years later, the twins would always explain that this was their first memory. At four, the twins started school, and to say Y/N and Steve were worried would be a huge lie. They knew Avery and Jameson would protect each other no matter what. At age seven, a boy on the playground called Avery an ‘ugly liar’, and Jameson threw sand in his face. Steve gave Jameson a scolding about how it was bad to throw sand at people and instead saying that if he was going to throw something, throw a punch instead.

Y/N had to step in and tell him not to do that unless it was a last resort.

At twelve, Jameson had his first real crush on a girl named Mindy. But, Avery knew that Mindy was mean and the daughter of an entitled Karen, so when Jameson asked Mindy if she wanted to dance with her at the school dance, Avery made sure to scare her straight.

“My daddy is a lawyer and sends criminals to prison and my mommy works for the New York Times. So, if you hurt James, everyone will know how mean you actually are are,” Avery threatened, which made Mindy back out of dancing with Jameson. Despite being mad when he was twelve, he was thankful years later when he saw firsthand what kind of teenager Mindy would become.

Now at sixteen, though the two twins were still thick as thieves, they matured into respectable, and frankly perfect kids.

That year, the Fourth of July (aka Steve’s birthday) fell the same night as movie night and the twins took it upon themselves to plan their dad’s party.

“Avery? James? You doin’ alright?” Y/N called from the upper floor of their brownstone in Park Slope, Brooklyn. When it was obvious that Avery and Jameson were at the age that they couldn’t share a bedroom anymore, Steve convinced Y/N to move back to Brooklyn. It wasn’t the difficult, per se, especially when Steve found a place close to where Natasha and her now-husband Bruce lived.

“Doin’ just fine, Mom!” Avery calls back. She was busy frosting the good-old Stars and Stripes cake while James finished the last-minute decorations.

Just then, Y/N heard a thud before some soft moaning. She gasped, already halfway down the stairs. “Are you okay? Do you need help? Screw your surprise, I’m com—”

“No!” James shouted, quickly sitting up, “I just fell off a stool, Mom. No big deal, you don’t need to come downstairs.”

“Are you su—”

“Yep! This is supposed to be a surprise!” James calls back.

“A surprise for your dad, not for me Jameson.”

Avery cackles from the kitchen and James rolls his eyes at her. “We’re fine, I promise,” he reassures her.

“Okay, just be done before everyone gets here. Bucky’s stalling your dad for as long as possible but I know he’ll want to come home soon.”

When Y/N is finally allowed downstairs, she’s impressed with their work. Red, white, and blue streamers are hung all across the ceiling as well as helium balloons that say ‘Happy Birthday America!’ except America is crossed out with Sharpie and ‘Steve Rogers’ is written in her kids’ handwriting instead. In the living room, several games are put out on the coffee table and a playlist full of patriotic movies is ready to be played on the TV. All her friends (minus Bucky and Steve) are in the living room, having a laugh at all the funny touches on the decorations. Their dining table was filled with food their friends brought for the potluck, and for some reason, James had blasted (and looped) a remix of the Star-Spangled Banner and Happy Birthday.

“Do you like it, Mom?” Y/N hears before turning around and facing her kids. Avery’s hand was grasped in James’ and her heart melts. How did I get so lucky? she asks herself.

She gives them a huge smile before enveloping both of them into a hug. “It’s amazing. Better than anything I could’ve done, that’s for sure.”

“Do you think, Dad’ll like it?” James mumbles into her shoulder.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” a voice suddenly shouts. The three pull apart to find Steve standing at the entrance of the living room with a huge grin on his face. Bucky stands behind him, chuckling at his reaction.

Y/N’s smile widens at the sight of her husband. “There’s your answer, James.”

The party is everything Steve could have really asked for. The food was great, his company was even better, and the thoughtfulness of his kids was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

When the night gets darker, the party of people head to the roof of the building so they can watch the fireworks. As they wait, Avery has everyone engrossed in a story of how James followed her on a date with a boy she really liked, Peter Parker. Steve stood at the edge of the crowd, smiling at how happy his kids and his wife looked. He feels a presence beside him and doesn’t need to look to know who it is.

“You did pretty great, Steve,” Bucky tells him softly.

“With Avery and James?” he asks.

“With life, buddy.”

Steve hums contently as the two of them watch Avery cause a bubble of laughter to erupt from the group. James punches her playfully on the arm, but the smile is still evident on his face.

“How’s Steph?” Steve asks him.

“She’s good. She’s with her mom for the weekend,” Bucky answers quietly.

“And how are you and Dolores?”

Bucky is silent for a few seconds. He clears his throat before saying, “Talking. We’re trying to work it out for Steph’s sake. She doesn’t deserve to have a broken family.”

Steve puts a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Buck. You’re a good father,” he tells his best friend.

Bucky remains silent. After a few minutes of silence, Bucky’s conscious drowns him in guild and he speaks up, “I kissed Y/N when we were younger. It was the night you learned you passed the bar. I told her I thought I made a mistake marrying Dolores, and shit…I don’t even know what I was thinking because I knew she probably loved you. I’m so sorry, Steve. I never told you because you’re my best friend and—”

“Bucky,” Steve cuts him off with a small, sympathetic smile, “It’s okay. I know.”

Bucky’s brows shoot up. “You know?” he asks.

Steve nods, “Y/N told me. Y/N tells me everything.”

Bucky exhales, “Ah.”

“I’m not mad,” Steve tells him.

“You’re not?”

“I am married to her and still best friends with you, aren’t I?”

Bucky chuckles and looks down. He doesn’t deserve Steve, Bucky thinks. But he’s damn grateful a guy like him is in his life. “I’m still sorry,” he says.

“It’s okay, Bucky. I mean it,” Steve says, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

The two stand in comfortable silence when the fireworks finally start to go off. The roof glows with red light and Steve can’t help but admire how beautiful Y/N looks with the glow of light on her skin. Avery has her head on Y/N’s shoulder while Jameson has an arm wrapped around her torso. Steve notices Bucky admiring his family too.

“You know,” Steve starts, “she loved you when we were younger. I actually thought the two of you would be great together and wanted her to ask you out. She was about to.”

Bucky looks at him. “Really,” he asks suspiciously.

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, still looking at the fireworks. “And did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Love her?”

Bucky is silent. He stares at Steve’s side profile; he’s still staring up at the fireworks without a care in the world.

Bucky sighs and answers honestly, “All throughout college, even when I was with Dolores. But guessing by your reaction, I think you already knew that.”

Steve finally glances in his direction, “I’m your best friend. Of course, I knew.”

“Did I ever have a chance with her?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, finally looking at Bucky, “once you did.”

Bucky sighs, “How’d you do it? How’d you find someone you love so naturally?”

Steve shakes his head, his eyes trained on his wife and his kids. They looked so happy, living in their own little bubble. Steve smiles softly before saying, “I stuck around.”

Bucky nods wordlessly before turning his attention back to the fireworks above. Steve continues to stare at his family when Y/N turns around and catches his gaze. Despite the night sky, her eyes are bright and filled with joy and love.

Steve smiles widely at her.

And in their own imperfect, but beautiful bubble, Y/N smiles back.

---

steve rogers taglist: @milea

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yoonjinkooked · 5 years ago

Text

On Call | part 1

moodboard by the lovely and amazing @flajka

Pairing: Y/N / Jungkook

Rating: 18+

Genre: Strangers to lovers / Rom-Com / Humor / Smut

Warnings for part 1: ranting, mentions of blood and injuries, good ass flirting, lots of good looking doctors, mentions of sex. The explicit stuff is saved for part two.

General warnings: (explicit sex, cursing, more to be added)

Word Count: 5147 +

Summary: After a catastrophic first date, you end up leaving the hospital angry, tired and date-less. Hoping to have a drink or five, you end up in a nearby bar, sitting next to the same doctor who caught your eye earlier.

A/N: I had to split it into two parts. I REALLY did not want to do that but I am absolutely not happy with how I wrote a large chunk of this, so I am writing it all over again. I can’t keep you waiting anymore so I’ll split this one. The smutty stuff comes in the next chapter.

I’m sorry for the long wait, life got in the way. I will have a day off before the weekend so I think I’ll manage to finish it then. To make it more specific - Part 2 by Sunday!

Let me know what you guys think! :)

First dates are horrible.

Even if they’re going well, even if you end up meeting the love of your life, that first date is always going to be horrible, at least just a little bit.

You’ve had shitty first dates and some not so shitty first dates but you’ve never had something that you’d call a traumatic first date. Until today.

Giving Tinder a shot wasn’t something that you really wanted to do. Dating apps were always something you were skeptical about, despite having a good friend who had met his current fiancé over one of said apps. A place for horny people who want easy sex – that’s what those dating apps were for you.

You have refused to install one, until you have become just that – a horny person who wants easy sex. Two glasses of wine and three dick pics later, you have actually managed to find someone who seemed… okay. Good looking, but not loud about it. No dick pics – big bonus. And he actually managed to avoid cheesy pickup lines and just… asked you to meet up for coffee. So, you have decided to give Adam a shot. Why not? What’s the worst that could happen? Save from horror movie scenarios, of course.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Well, Adam could turn out to be an idiot who doesn’t watch where he’s walking and he could end up stepping into an open manhole in the middle of the street, grabbing you by the hand as he fell, knocking you on the ground in the process, all while still managing to break his leg.

But what kind of bad luck would you need to have for that to happen?

Apparently, the amount of bad luck you have is sufficient. Adam did indeed fall into a manhole but not before grabbing hold of you while trying to keep himself balanced – you were too surprised to react in any way, so not only did he end up falling but so did you, hitting your head on the pavement and scratching your arm on concrete.

All you can remember clearly are his yells and blood. The rest is a blur, from the point of you calling 911 to you sitting here, in a hospital, waiting to be checked by a doctor.

In the history of bad first dates, this has to be the runner-up, at the very least. All of that before the biggest plot twist of the night – the arrival of Adam’s girlfriend. The girl was worried sick and the moment you saw her throw herself onto a broken Adam, you silently decided to not go into his room after all.

At least the cut on your hand isn’t too bad – it stopped bleeding over the last few minutes and other than a light headache and an immense feeling of embarrassment, you’re doing pretty okay. Well, you’re also annoyed with waiting in a very crowded waiting room – apparently your situation is not serious enough to earn you a room, bed or even a simple chair.

“Taehyung, go check on him,” the voice belongs to a doctor walking past you, obviously giving some instructions. He’s handsome as hell, tall and with dark hair – much better looking than Adam. He probably watches where he’s walking too. “Check back with me when you’re done, okay?”

“Excuse me,” he turns around when you call him, finally deciding to no longer wait in silence. “Can someone tell me where to go or what to do? I have been waiting for more than an hour.”

“What are you here for?” he ask as his eyes go over you quickly, narrowing down on your arm. “Bad fall?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “I hit my head a bit too. I feel okay though.”

“Any pain?” he asks, walking closer to you. Close enough to make you swallow a lump because holy fuck, he is really good looking.

“Just a regular headache kind of pain,” you explain. “And my arm does hurt a bit too.”

“I’ll have a nurse clean that up,” he tells me. “What’s your name?” he asks.

“Y/N,” you force a smile. “Y/L/N Y/N.”

“Okay Y/N, please do what I say. Lift your right arm up,” he instructs and you do as he said. “Put it down. Now please stick your tongue out,” you follow his lead, even though you feel like a bit like an idiot, sticking your tongue out in the middle of a hospital waiting room. “Good. Now please follow my finger – just with your eyes, don’t move your head. Okay?” you follow his finger left to right, gulping yet again as you become aware of very direct eye contact. You repeat a mantra in your head, reminding yourself that it’s literally his job to look at you.

“Just a weak headache you say?”

“Well, if we ignore the growing death wish, yes,” he frowns at your tragic joke, causing you to smile and shake your head. It’s too complicated to explain anyways.

“You seem to be doing just fine, Y/N,” he reassures you. “If you feel any pain, just a regular pain medication should help. If your headache doesn’t leave you by tomorrow night, I’d advise you to come back here for a checkup. But for now, you don’t need a CT. I’ll just have… Jimin!” he calls for someone. And boy oh boy, it’s someone alright - a very good looking, blonde young man in blue scrubs walks towards us. “Jimin, please clean up her wound and see if stitches are needed,” he tells him.

“Sure thing, Dr. Kim,” Jimin smiles at the doctor.

“And Y/N, remember, if you feel anything unusual, come back here. Okay?” Dr. Kim asks.

“Okay,” you nod obediently, knowing damn well you will already be on your way back to the hospital the second you feel anything out of the ordinary.

“Follow me, Miss Y/N,” Jimin instructs you with a smile and you follow him. As you do, you can’t help but wonder if every damn person in this hospital is good looking – both he and Dr. Kim could be supermodels if they really wanted to. Or maybe they aren’t that good looking and you’ve just hit my head a bit too hard.

“MOVE!” you jump up when a yell carries through the hallway. Before you can even react, Jimin is grabbing your intact hand and pulling you to the side. Backed up against the wall, you watch in shock the scene that unfolds before you. A group of people is literally running through the hallway with a stretcher between them. “Move, move, move!” you realize now who is yelling – it’s the doctor who is all but lying on the stretcher. You don’t see much as they pass you – it’s a blur of people, different colored scrubs and blood. What you do see is that a doctor is literally above the patient, who is lying on the stretcher, his hands too bloody for you to see and understand what the hell he is doing. And then they’re gone, taking a turn to the right at the end of the hallway. You can still hear him yelling commands, his voice fainter by the second.

“Holy shit.”

“Yes,” Jimin chuckles. “Just another day at the office,” he starts walking again and not knowing what else to do, you just follow him, avoiding stepping onto the droplets of blood that coat the floor. It looks like that’s also a part of their every day schedule.

“Isn’t that patient more important than I am?” you wonder. “I mean, this is just a scratch. I could probably even clean it up at home, he looks like he needs more help than I do.

“Miss Y/N, there were three nurses around that stretcher,” Jimin smiles back at you. “If I go there, I would do more harm than help. Doctor Jeon and the team can handle it.”

Agreeing with his subtle suggestion that this really is none of your business, you shut up and follow him. Finally, you have a chance to sit down when the two of you end up in a small office, equipped with what one would call basic doctor supplies. You wait as Jimin collects what he needs, before he turns on the light and takes a good look at your injured arm.

“Ouch, that’s not pretty. Did you fall?”

The snort that leaves you causes him to raise his eyebrows in confusion. “You could say that. My date fell into a manhole,” you almost chuckle when I see Jimin’s eyes go wide in surprise. Honestly, you would have laughed hard if Adam didn’t actually get seriously injured. “And nearly dragged me into it with him.”

“That sounds like… a bad date,” he comments.

“Yeah. First date too,” the grimace on Jimin’s face says it all. “We barely even shook hands before he was falling down. I guess I’m gonna go celibate now. Did I mention his girlfriend showed up at the hospital?”

“Ouch,” he comments. Before you could respond, the touch of an alcohol soaked swab makes your hand flinch as Jimin start’s cleaning your injurty. “You are having a rough night.”

“More like a rough year,” you mumble.

“Miss Y/N, you need to look at the bright side,” Jimin smiles at you. It’s easy for him to say – he strikes you as a big ball of fluff and positive. You, on the other hand, are a walking disaster. “After the rain comes the rainbow. Karma has her way of doing things.”

“If you say so.”

Jimin works in silence while you stare at the floor and contemplate your life, deciding to leave the hospital as soon as he is done with fixing you up. A part of you wanted to find Adam and his girl, cause a scene and tell her to get away from him. Hell, if you had more energy, you would have gone with that plan. Now you just want to leave and get yourself a drink. Or five. When Jimin finished with cleaning your arm and applying some cream, you smile and thank him, asking for directions to the nearest bar.

After spending a few minutes wondering whether or not you should call your best friend and ask him to join, you have reached the conclusion that Hoseok’s bright and cheerful personality is not something that you need tonight.

He would chuckle at the story, telling you to look on the bright side, to be glad your leg wasn’t broken and that you got out before you ended up being ‘the other woman’. And while all of that would be absolutely correct, you do not need a ‘cheer up, buddy’ tonight. What you need is a decent amount of time to be alone and gloomy, wallow in self-pity and maybe drown in alcohol. With the day you’ve had, you deserve it – all of it.

“You sure you want another one?” the bartender asks when you point to the almost empty glass of Long Island Iced Tea in front of you – that’s what he served when you asked for a ‘drink that may end up killing you’. “Those things are pretty strong. You’re not driving, are you?” he asks, forcing you to make a mental note to tip him well because he’s actually worried about my well-being, even if I’m not.

“Not driving. And trust me, these are not nearly as effective as I want them to be.”

“Drinking to forget?” he’s asking too many question but he is getting the drink ready, so you take it.

“Hopefully.”

You have deleted Tinder the moment you sat down at the bar. It’s impossible to know when you’ll be ready to try again but one thing is certain - you won’t be trying on some cursed, shitty app. From this point on, you will go through my life without focusing on men and dick. You solemnly swear that you will not look for anything – in fact, you will wait for it to come on its own. And if it doesn’t, well, life goes on. With a job you like and a fairly cool group of friends, even an occasional hobby, you’ll have plenty of things to keep yourself occupied.

But. No. More. Men.

“Evening, doc!” the bartender’s cheerful voice snaps me you of a daze. “The usual?”

“Yep,” the voice next to you speaks up and against better judgment, you turn my head to look at him. As he sits down in the chair next to yours, you realize this is the same doctor that was yelling his way through the hallway earlier. Looking away from him, you decide not to draw attention to yourself. No particular reason why – attention is just the last thing on your mind now.

“Rough day today, doc?”

“No rougher than usual,” he chuckles. You focus on your drink, pushing the lemon around the glass with a straw, kind of pretending that it’s Adam and you are pushing him around. “You seem like you’ve had a worse day, what the heck happened to your arm?” it takes you a second to realize that the doctor is directing the question your way.

“I was dragged to the ground,” you mumble, not bothering to look his way. “Hurt my arm and hit my head.”

“Is your head okay?” he asks and even without looking at him, you know he is asking this as a doctor and not just a guy at the bar – there is literally a change in his tone, which suddenly turned serious.

“One of your colleagues checked it out and unfortunately, my head is okay,” you reply.

“You look way too young to sound so pessimistic,” he chuckles and you turn to him, slightly annoyed with his pestering. The earlier theory you had on how every employee of the hospital across the street is handsome is proven to be true because holy crap, he’s hot. You didn’t get a chance to notice it when he flew past on the stretcher earlier but now, even with the dim lights of the bar you’re at, you can see him much clearer. His face is gorgeous, flawless, with big brown eyes looking at me and a tiny smile on his lips. From what you can see, his physique is equally impressive. He is, simply put, hot as hell.

“I’m also way too sober for this conversation.”

If you had met him yesterday, who knows, maybe it would have ended with an offer to suck him off in the back alley – that’s how hot he is. But today sucks. Therefore, you won’t.

“Seems like you’re going to fix that soon enough,” he chuckles at you, probably because you are downing the drink much faster than one should down such a strong cocktail. “As a doctor, I’m obliged to tell you that you should hold back on your drinks if you’ve suffered a hit to the head.”

“How ‘bout a hit to my pride?” you turn on the stool to look at him, challenging him. It’s evident that he is simply trying to have a conversation. His tone wasn’t condescending either – it was more of a good natured suggestion than a doctor’s advice. Still, it annoyed you, just a little. “That one can hurt just as hard as a hit to the head, can it not?”

“It can,” he nods his head. “But what can possibly be that bad?” he asks.

Do you speak up or keep your mouth shut?

To hell with it. You need to rant, are almost drunk and will never see him again.

“Had a date today,” you pause to take a sip of my drink. “First date. He fell into an open manhole.”

“Wait, is that the dude with the girlfriend?” he asks and you turn to him so fast, you think your neck muscle is strained. “Are you the girl who made a scene?”

“No I didn’t!” you gasp, shocked that he’d even suggest something like that. “I haven’t said a word to him! The girl showed up, I put two and two together, went to get my hand fixed and ended up here.”

“Who fixed your arm?” he asks, frowning in suspicion.

“A very hot blonde guy.”

“Jimin,” he chuckles and I nod my head, remembering the name now. “That explains a lot.”

“That explains what?” you ask, momentarily distracted when you notice the bartender serving the doctor his drink – mineral water. Sure, there’s ice and two slices of lemon in the glass but it is just mineral water. If that’s his regular drink, you don’t even want to know what he drinks when he’s feeling a bit tamer.

“Jimin has a habit of meddling into people’s lives a bit too often,” the doctor chuckles and a lump forms in your throat as you focus on his side profile – clear skin, chiseled jaw, cute nose and messy hair. Even his speech, now a bit slower than earlier, is hot. “He must have put two and two together because from what I’ve heard, he asked the dude where his date was, right in front of the girlfriend,” he tells you.

“Serves him right,” a dark chuckle leaves you as you realize just how thankful you are for the overly meddling nurse who did my work in your stead.

“The chick flipped and caused a ruckus,” the doctor continues. “With the way you’ve been sulking at the bar, I thought it might have been you. Stupid, I know – you even said it was a first date.”

“I’m just glad that’s behind me,” you mumble in response. “Or, will be, when I finish this drink.”

“The guy is a dick,” the bartender suddenly joins in, having obviously listened to your conversation. You can’t blame the guy – you’re sitting right in front of him. “You seem like a decent girl,” he tells you. “Why would you waste time on cheaters when you have nice guys like Doctor Jeon around?” he hits the doctor on the shoulder, hard, beaming down at him.

“You’ve always been a bad wing-man Chris, but I think you might have just outdone yourself.”

“Doctor Jeon isn’t even drinking,” you smile at the bartender. “I’m sure he’s not interested.”

“Doctor Jeon needs to drive home and hopefully get there in one piece,” the doctor laughs. “And please just call me Jungkook – the doctor thing is getting a bit weird,” he adds, obviously ignoring your comment that he isn’t interested. Could it mean that… no, probably not.

“Take a cab, Jungkook,” you tell him, turning around to stare at the shelves full of drinks, expensive and cheap, dark and colorful. Looking directly at him would be a very bad idea. “Life’s too short.”

“Mineral water is just fine,” you can hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, I might get called back to the hospital tonight. Probably not, but I never know. I’d rather be able to help someone than drunk.”

“Did you save that guy from today?” you ask, this time risking at all and looking at him, seeing the confusion on his heavenly face. “The one on the stretcher, the guy you were all but sitting on?”

“Ah,” he nods his head in understanding. “He’s in intensive care but most likely will make it through the night. He’s in good hands.”

“Doctor Jeon is a trauma surgeon,” the bartender, Chris as you now know, tells you with a knowing look. “Very big deal in the hospital.”

“Trauma surgeons or Doctor Jeon in particular?” you laugh.

“Chris, I think some glasses want to be polished,” Jungkook’s jaw clenches but you can still see a hint of a smile as he looks at his friend. “Don’t meddle, please. I can flirt just fine on my own.”

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” you laugh. This is becoming… very interesting.

“I’m about to, as soon as I find out your name,” he smirks your way. That one action, that one tiny smirk, made him 10 times more attractive than he was seconds ago.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeats. Okay, it may be too soon to tell but you have an inkling of where this might end up going and at this point, you are ready to pray to god that it ends up going that way. More than once.

“He’s single,” the bartender suddenly pipes up.

“Chris.”

“And the kindest guy I know,” Chris still continues, ignoring Jungkook’s glares.

“Will you stop?”

“No,” you laugh at Jungkook. “No, I like this, he’s telling me all I need to know. Tell me, Chris, how often does he flirt with lonely ladies at the bar?” you ask.

“First time I’ve seen him do it,” Chris replies without blinking. “Beats your guy from earlier today by a mile.”

“That he does,” you agree immediately. Just superficial conversation and one look at Jungkook was enough to reach the same conclusion. Granted, you haven’t really had the chance to properly talk to Adam but his girlfriend did and based from what you’ve heard, she doesn’t like him that much at the moment.

“How about you talk now, Y/N, before Chris here finds my birth certificate,” Jungkook turns to you.

“What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you’re willing to share.”

“I doubt you’d be interested in hearing my life story,” you chuckle. “I’m a real estate agent. I’m tired and not as drunk as I want to be.”

“That’s all you think I need to know?” he laughs, leaning just a tiny bit closer. “Tell me who you are when you’re not angry at some random dick. Tell me about your hobbies, your interests, the things you hate the most, your plans for the future.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me or are you scouting for a would-be wife?” you frown.

“Play your cards right and ask me that question later.”

It’s so fucking endearing – he laughs at himself as he delivers such a cheesy, yet somehow smooth line. He is literally laughing at himself and that makes you chuckle too – he’s not taking himself too seriously and is genuinely funny. Hell, if he plays his cards right, you might just ask him to marry you.

“I hate cucumbers,” is what you decide to tell him. “Tom Cruise too – he’s creepy. I don’t like people who waste my time. I’m a TV show addict, I could live on popcorn and I never wear high heels. Does that satisfy your curiosity?” your eyebrows are raised as you throw the ball over in his field.

“Not even close,” he responds. Judging by the little smirk on his face, he can definitely tell that your interest is peaked in all the right ways. “You’re just making me want to know more, Y/N.”

“Unfair,” you pretend to glare at him. “It’s your turn now – it’s only fair if I know as much as you do.”

“Alright,” he nods his head. “I’m a surgeon, as you already know. I’m… a pretty boring guy if I’m being honest. I work, workout, occasionally meet up with my friends and sleep. I like cucumbers but I can’t stand eggplants. I never really gave Tom Cruise much thought but you do have a point, he is a bit creepy,” Jungkook grimaces and you laugh, glad to hear you’re not the only one with that opinion. “I barely even have a life outside of work.”

You were goofing off at first but by the time he finishes, the humorous tone of the conversation isn’t really there anymore. He’s a doctor, a surgeon at that – it’s not hard for you to imagine just how big of a price his personal life had to pay in order for him to have a career like that. While it’s a shame, in your opinion, it was a decision he was very much aware of – as well as its consequences.

“Seems like maybe I’m not the only one who needs a drink tonight,” you give him a pointed look.

“Nah,” he smiles at you, shaking his head. “I still need to drive. Besides, you’ve had a bad day. This is just a regular day for me. Well, almost regular – I don’t usually talk to a pretty girl by the end of it.”

This time around, you stay silent.

It’s not something you can say and seeing as you do find him attractive it’s not the logical response either. You should smile at him, run fingers through your hair, try to appear as sensual and as flirty as possible – or as much as you can be, with dirty jeans and a big ass scratch on your arm. Doctor Jeon ticks off all the boxes, or at least all that you can think off, with your mind a little bit hazy, thanks to Chris’s mean cocktail. You should play the game and see where it’ll take you.

But you don’t. No, you stay silent and you look at the drink before you, ignoring the pair of eyes you feel on you. Perhaps you have had enough? Perhaps Adam was the last straw, your last chance before giving up completely? Maybe, maybe not. But for whatever reason, you decide to stay silent.

To his credit, Jungkook follows your lead. He doesn’t push you and that makes him look even better in your eyes. He was following your lead, pushing as far as you’d let him. Not all men have that ability, sadly. Jungkook does, he has something you can only describe as a peaceful aura. He strikes you as a laid back, everything is going to be okay, kind of guy. He’s not desperately trying to impress, nor is he trying to pull off a bad boy vibe. Thinking about it now, he seems like the most mature guy you were ever interested in, even in passing, even if you’ve only talked to him for a few minutes.

Now you want to speak up, say something, anything, but your mouth just opens and closes, as you find that as much as you want to, you’re not capable of forming words.

And why would you? Come to think of it, seriously, why would you? You barely even talked. You have had a day from hell, you are tired and there’s not much he could provide you with, other than a distraction. It would do it’s trick, you might get a good night and a few worthy memories but at the end of it all, you would probably never see his face again. At least outside of the emergency room.

Your brain is playing tennis with itself, throwing the ball from one side to another as you debate whether or not something should be done, mentally listing all the pros and cons to each option, asking yourself further questions that simply lead you nowhere. That’s the way overthinking works and you should know, since you do it all the damn time.

His glass hits the bar a bit too hard and you flinch, looking at it from the corner of your eye. It’s empty, the tennis match in your head is slowly coming to an end – no winner. You do nothing, don’t say a word, don’t look at him. You only look at the bartender as he tells Jungkook to keep an eye on the bar as he goes to get more tequila from the back.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asks and the moment your eyes meet, the beat of your heart turns frantic. You wish you could slow it down somehow, or at least ignore it and focus on other things. Nope, none of it could work even if you tried – your heart is going berserk and all you can look at is Jungkook’s face. His eyes really are a one hell of a sight. “I’m going home now,” he tells you, his eyes looking around your face, from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again. “I would very much like to take you there with me. You had a horrible day and you deserve something to keep your mind off it. I’d be happy to oblige. It would also be a nice change for me, to not go home alone once,” he adds.

Okay, it’s happening. The ball is on your side now. The problem is, Jungkook’s suggestion sounded more like a ‘let’s go steady’ than ‘do you want to fuck’ and that leaves you uneasy. Not a single thing about this screams one night stand to you, other than the fact that he is very much a stranger.

But you want to. God, do you want to. You want to suck him dry and run your hands through his hair as he fucks you – on a desk, on the floor, up against the wall, in the shower, on the bed – wherever it’s physically possible, really. You can’t remember the last time someone so stupidly handsome was offering you what Jungkook is offering now. Even if he makes it sound way more romantic than it should sound like, the hidden promise is there – you’d get dicked down.

Fuck it, you want it. Even more so, you need it.

“What kind of distraction are you suggesting, exactly?” you ask, praying to everyone and everything that your poker face is as stable as you want it to be.

“I think you know exactly what I’m suggesting, Y/N,” he mumbles, still keeping his eyes directly on you. It’s a little uncomfortable and your first instinct is to look away, to save yourself, but you can’t. With every word he says, he is drawing you in, deeper. “We can play coy, if that’s what you want, but you know very well how this is going to end.”

“And what about my head?” you do play coy, but you also throw in a subtle smirk, to make sure your intentions are clear, even though they are very much different than your words. “Weren’t you worried about me drinking after I’ve hit my head? How could a… distraction be healthy for me?”

“Oh, it could be,” he chuckles. “Healthy, enjoyable and dare I say, addictive. And just to settle your worries – nothing better than doctor supervision over the course of the night.”

You laugh because fuck it, it’s sold and you want him to know that.

“I trust I’ll be in good hands.”

“Oh, you will be,” it sounds both exciting and sinister and it stirs you in all the right ways. “Let’s go,” you are surprised with how quickly he takes out a couple of bills from his back pocket and throws them onto the bar, paying for both of your drinks and then some. He doesn’t wait for Chris to get back – he’s already on his feet and reaching for your hand. “Let’s go – I don’t want to waste more time.”

You let him drag you out of the bar, hoping that his dick is just as good as his game.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #doctor jungkook #jjk #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfics #jungkook scenarios #jeongguk

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thefloatingstone · 5 years ago

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We’ve gone from Self-Isolation to Quarantine and in some places to gradual relaxation phases, but that doesn’t stop the need for more nonsense you can watch on youtube while you wait for things to get back to normal. And recommending things and making lists are some of my favourite things to do but I have not yet figured out how to start or structure a video myself, you guys get another rambling tumblr post of things you can watch on youtube.

This time I’m once again just gonna recommend individual videos rather than full channels like I did in part 2.

Part 1

Part 2

In no particular order;

LOCAL58: The Broadcast Station that Manipulates You

I recently started watching the Nexpo channel when I went on a binge of creepy youtube videos. Most of his videos are really good although the ones where he himself goes into theory crafting can be a little asinine. However, this video is REALLY good. And before you get nervous, LOCAL58 is not a real TV station. LOCAL58 is a youtube channel created by the same guy behind the Candle Cove creepypasta. This video by Nexpo covers the various episodes of LOCAL58 and discusses them. Just be aware going in that this is abstract horror, and will probably get under your skin regardless if you’re unaffected by certain topics or not. although cw for suicide mention.

I also recommend most of the rest of this channel, although be careful where you tread. I don’t recommend his series “Disturbing things from around the internet” as it can sometimes include real life crime, abuse and such caught on security cameras. Everything else is really good tho. (although I was really annoyed by his 2 videos on KrainaGrzybowTV)

The Search for D.B. Cooper

LEMMiNO has a new video out covering one of the most unexplained crimes in the past century of the US. LEMMiNO is the guy I’ve recommended before who did videos on the Universal S. He is very down to earth and not someone prone to conspiracy or even really that fanciful of thinking. (He’s like the one person I feel covered the Dyaltov Pass incident and was confused by why this was even a mystery because if you read the Russian Autopsy reports and documents associated with the case it’s all pretty logical and easily explained)

D.B. Cooper is the name given to a man who, in 1971, hijacked an airplane with a bomb, asked for a large sum of money, and after receiving it, parachuted from the plane and was never seen or heard from again.

The Austrian Wine Poisoning | Down the Rabbit Hole

Down the Rabbit Hole also has a new video out, this time covering the Austrian Wine Poisoning event from 1985. A scandal that involved literally the entire country of Austria, affected multiple countries, and forever changed the way wine was made world wide. As someone who is generally pretty allergic to most artificial substances this one made me personally very angry. But luckily, it has a happy ending and a better world for us all... if I could drink wine which I can’t do anyway.

The Turbulent Tale of Yandere Dev - A Six Year Struggle

The Right Opinion is another channel I only recently subbed to after watching his cover on Onion Boy. I put off subbing to him simply because of his channel name and I thought it meant he would come across as smug and elitist. Luckily this seems to merely be one of those “I chose a bad channel name and now I’m stuck with it” type of situations. (IHE has a similar problem).

Anyway, I have a weird interest in bizarre internet personalities, so I’ve been enjoying his channel as he simply discusses and presents a timeline of events of certain individuals. In this video, he covers the developer behind the much maligned Yandere Simulator. It’s a tale of hubris, arrogance, immaturity, and an unwillingness to accept your own shortcomings due to ego.

Oh and there’s a meme game about Japanese school girls with anime tiddies in there as well.

The Most Relaxing Anime Ever Made | Yokohama Kaidashi Kikō

Kenny Lauderdale is a youtube channel which is slowly becoming bigger which I’m very happy to see. He exclusively covers anime and live action Japanese television no younger than the mid 90s (as is the case with YYK) and which usually never saw a release outside of Japanese Laserdisc. I do wish his videos were a little longer, but if nothing else his videos serve as an excellent starting to point to find some older and underappreciated shows... or hot garbage fires. In this episode he talks about the 2 OVA episodes made based on one of my favourite manga, Yokohama Shopping Log. A Post apocalyptic anime about an android who runs a coffee shop outside of her house, and the quiet solitude of living in a world of declining human population, brief encounters with travelers and other people, and just... existing. The anime was never released outside of Japan and is only available on Japanese VHS and laserdisc.... but hey guess what!! Somebody uploaded both episodes, subbed, to Youtube.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2HCVOH6DtA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqSTwfkobME

YMS’ slow descent into madness as he uncovers just how bullshit the Kimba Conspiracy is

I’m linking a full playlist for this one.

YMS is busy planning his review on the “live action” Lion King remake as the original 1994 movie is probably his favourite movie all time (and also self declared what made him a furry). As part of the 2 hour review, he decided to what all 2000 hours of Kimba the White Lion just to mention how The Lion King potentially stole the idea. ....until he actually watched all 2000 hours of Kimba and realised that if you actually WATCH Kimba, it has VERY little to do with the Lion King at all apart from having the same animals in them because AFRICA. Watch as one man slowly loses his mind as he realises just how stupid this conspiracy theory is, just HOW DECEITFUL and straight up LYING people can be. People who write BOOKS. People who teach LAW AT UNIVERSITIES. Because NOBODY bothered to actually watch the entire show and just parroted the “Disney stole this” lie which got started by like 2 salty fans on the internet.

The man set out to just mention how Disney stole an idea, and uncovered one of the most infuriating rabbit holes on the internet. Screaming for SOMEONE to provide him with sources or evidence.

YMS will be publishing his full Kimba documentary this month which he has said is around 2 hours long before he continues to work on the Lion King one.

Science Stories: Loch Ness eDNA results, Poop Knives, and Skeleton Lovers

TREY the Explainer has a video giving us some updates in Archeology from 2019. In this video he discusses the findings of the eDNA results conducted on the Loch Ness to see what animal DNA the lake contains which will tell us what living animals currently inhabit the lake, ancient knives made of poop and if this is a real thing that could have existed, and a skeleton couple found buried together which were at first thought to be lovers, then revealed to be both male, and then how in this instance we cannot let our modern sensibilities dictate what we WANT this burial find to be, but to look at the evidence as presented to us and place in context finds of this nature. The worst thing an archaeologist can do is look for proof to a theory they already have.

The Bizarre Modern Reality of Sonic the Hedgehog

Super Eyepatch Wolf is back and he’s here to talk to us about the very very strange existence of Sonic. a 90s rebellious “too cool for School” answer to Mario, a lost idea as the world of video games changes and culture shifted, a meme and punching bag amplified by a unique fanbase and poor quality games, a transcendence into a horrific warped idea of what he once was, and modern day and where Sonic and his fans are now. As usual Super Eyepatch Wolf knocks it out of the park.

Kokoro Wish and the Birth of a Multiverse: A Lecture on the Work of Jennifer Diane Reitz

I don’t even sub to this channel as I’m not entirely sure what Ben’s usual content is about. But every now and then he has a “101″ class, where he explains to a room full of his friends in a classroom setting (complete with Whiteboard) an internet artist and oddity, the timeline, and what it is they have created. (wait... didn’t I say this already?). Unlike TRO however, the 101 classrooms are not a dark look into disturbed individuals (although the CWC 101 is debatable) nor is it a “lol look at this weirdo” dragging. Instead, of the 3 he’s done so far, it’s usually a rather sympathetic look at some of the strange artists on the internet who through some way or another, left a very big cultural impact on the internet space through their art. Sometimes they may not be the best people, but their work is so outside of what we’re used to seeing that just listening to him run you through these people’s internet history is fascinating.

In this episode he talks about Jennifer Diane Reitz. And although it is titled Kokoro Wish, the lecture is more about Jennifer’s larger work back in the early internet when being a weeb was unheard of, how being trans influenced her stories and characters, and her world building that is so rich and in-depth with it’s own ASTRO PHYSICS it puts any modern fictional world found in games or movies to shame.

Jennifer is not exactly a nice person... and in many ways can be seen as dangerously irresponsible, but she created something truly unique in a way that you kinda struggle figuring out if it’s terrible or a work of genius.

Anyway I think that’s enough for now

#Youtube #youtubers #recommendations #Self Isolation playlist #Long post #part 3 #videos #links

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kaseshipearth · 5 years ago

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keep your chin up (someday there will be happiness again)

prompt fill for Anon: how about Stephen comforting Tony after a bad day and tony is just rly mad at himself for being stupid (in his opinion) and he wants to sleep but has nightmares and just needs a hug?

read it on AO3.

Stephen can’t help but smile when he hears the front door open. Tony had been at the compound for a couple of days, working hard on new prototype weapons and armor for the other Avengers. Once Tony got started on a project, it was hard to get him to stop.

After the defeat of Thanos a few years ago, Ross was able to negotiate terms with the Rogue Avengers to bring them out of hiding. There were months of long, boring meetings with representatives from countries around the world that had signed the Sokovia Accords to readjust the terms of the agreement with the Avengers’ help. Several times, Steve Rogers said something selfish that would set Tony off, and Stephen (who had started dating Tony not long after the battle on Titan) would have to step out of the room to avoid ripping his head off.

Stephen knew that Tony still had nightmares. Nightmares about the fight in Germany. Nightmares about the battle on Titan, of Thanos stabbing him with his own blade.

“Hi, babe. You’re a little later than expected,” Stephen greets as Tony shrugs off his jacket and tosses it over a chair. Stephen sets the spatula down and engulfs Tony in a hug, pressing a kiss to his temple. But, something seems off as they hug. Maybe it’s just in Stephen’s head, but he swears that Tony hesitates before wrapping his arms around Stephen, giving him a short squeeze.

“Hey,” Tony says, his voice tight.

Stephen’s brow furrows with concern immediately. He pulls away and gently takes Tony’s hands in his own. “Is something wrong?”

Tony sighs, pursing his lips together. “Just had a bad day, that’s all.”

There’s a tug at Stephen’s heart. After everything Tony has been through, he only deserves the best days, with hugs and laughter and light. With most of the Avengers staying at the compound now, he wonders whose room he’ll have to Portal into and threaten with mystic spells. ( Not that he’s done that before.)

Stephen smiles. “Well, dinner is almost ready. What do you say we eat, and then after dinner we drink some cheap wine and watch a terrible movie? I think we still have one more Austin Powers movie to watch.”

Tony shrugs. “First, we only have expensive wine in this house. Do you even know who I am?” Stephen chuckles lightly. “Second, no,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “My day was really terrible. I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

Stephen frowns. “Okay, I'll turn off the stove and--”

“Stephen,” Tony interrupts, “I love you, but what I need now is a hot shower and alone time. Okay?”

He hates when Tony looks at him with That Look. A strange combination of sadness and desperation and disappointment. Stephen knows it isn’t directed at him, but he never likes seeing Tony like this.

“Okay. Just let me know if I can do anything.”

Tony offers him a weak smile. “You’re too good to me, you know that?” He steps forward and gives Stephen a quick kiss, grabs a glass of water, and heads to their room.

Stephen watches him as he goes, until he rounds the corner of the stairs and disappears from view. Then, he turns his attention back to the stir fry on the stove. He longs to help his husband, to figure out what’s bothering him and help him fix it. He wishes he could take all of Tony’s burdens from him and place them on his own shoulders.

Tony was so good. Too good for this world, truly. He doesn’t know how much he helped Stephen after his accident, after Dormammu, all of it.

After the defeat of Thanos, Stephen found himself longing to see the man again. One rainy night, just a couple of weeks after Titan, Stephen had made up his mind about going to the compound when there was a knock at the sanctum door. It was an emotional Tony, who told Stephen that Pepper had ended their relationship for good. Something about him never taking the suit off, despite her wishes. They ended up talking all night. Tony was like an open book, letting out all his pain and anxiety over a bottle of scotch. And surprisingly, Stephen, who took a long time to open up to new friends, found himself telling Tony about his trials as a Master of the Mystic Arts. He even told him about Dormammu, a subject he could barely bring himself to even think about but that plagued his dreams. Not to mention the horrors he was facing from other Masters, who were infuriated that he’d given up the Time Stone and wanted him stripped of his abilities (even though Stephen insisted he knew what he was doing, that giving up the Time Stone would allow Thanos to return to Earth, where Thor would behead him before he could snap his fingers).

That one night turned into coffee runs and dinners at local eateries, until Tony finally asked him to go on a real date. Stephen said yes embarrassingly quickly. Though they got off to a rough start, Iron Man was slowly capturing Stephen’s heart.

Is it odd that they bonded over similar tragedies, shared tragedies, and depressing life histories? Maybe. But Stephen knew from the moment Tony showed up on his doorstep that stormy night that he’d found a lifelong companion. They’d laughed and cried together, and now, five years later, they’re married and live in a lovely house on the lake (with nights spent between the compound and the sanctum). They have made so many wonderful memories together, but sometimes, days like this happen. Stephen hates it because most of the time, it’s Tony’s own inner critic who drags him down to this level.

Tony doesn’t know his own worth. And it sucks.

Stephen’s evening after that is fairly boring. He eats a little bit of dinner, serving Tony a bowl and covering it with foil for later (Tony sometimes snuck out of bed to eat in the middle of the night). Then, after an episode of Westworld, a quick Portal trip to the Sanctum to check in with Wong, and a couple hours of meditation, Stephen finally shuts off the lights downstairs and heads to bed.

As he’s brushing his teeth, he can’t help but stand in the bathroom doorway and stare at Tony’s sleeping figure in the bed. He hopes tonight is a nightmare-free and that Tony has a better day tomorrow. Then, he climbs into bed, gently kisses Tony’s cheek, and lets sleep overtake him.

Stephen wakes up to a trembling bed.

He frowns, his sleepy mind unsure what is happening, and turns to Tony, wondering if he’s feeling it too. He then realizes… Tony is causing the bed to shake, deep in sleep.

A nightmare.

A whimper escapes Tony’s lips as Stephen sits up, carefully shaking Tony awake. “Tony? Tony, wake up!” he says.

Suddenly, Tony bolts upright, almost knocking his head against Stephen’s, gasping for air. Unfortunately, this is a normal thing for both of them, so Stephen’s muscle memory kicks in naturally. He gently cups the sides of Tony’s face and turns his head so they face each other head on. “Breathe, Tony,” Stephen coaxes, his stomach tightening when he sees Tony’s eyes frantically darting around the room. “It’s okay, I’m here, just breathe.” Tony’s own hands clutch hard at Stephen’s wrists, but his breathing begins to slow. A few minutes later, he’s breathing normally again. Once he reassures Stephen that he's okay, Stephen readjusts the two of them so they’re leaning against the headboard, Tony’s head on Stephen’s shoulder, with Stephen’s arm draped protectively around him.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says eventually.

“You know you don’t have to apologize,” Stephen replies, kissing the top of Tony’s head. He lifts his hand and runs his trembling fingers through Tony's hair.

Silence passes over them as they stare out the window at the lake, the full moon’s light reflecting on the water’s surface.

“The kid and I got into a fight today,” Tony admits. “A bad one. That’s why I was upset earlier.”

Stephen frowns. “A fight?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Peter heard that Norman Osborn escaped from prison and wanted my help going after him. I told him he should be studying and not playing the hero all the time, especially since this guy almost killed him last time they fought. Things just… escalated from there, and he left. This nightmare that I had, he’d gone after him anyway and I didn’t know and… he didn’t…” Tony stops, swallowing.

“God, I’m such an idiot sometimes. I want to help the kid, but I don’t want him getting hurt. He tells me to stop treating him like a kid but, he’s my kid, you know? Am I being selfish? Am I an idiot?”

Stephen shakes his head. “You are the furthest thing from an idiot. Tony, you have to stop being so hard on yourself. You said it yourself, he’s your kid. Some things may have been said, but it’s nothing you two can’t get over. You’re like his Iron Dad or something.”

“Oh, shut up,” Tony says with a laugh, giving Stephen a shove. He’ll take it--anything to cheer his husband up. To Stephen, Tony’s laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world.

“I say you call him tomorrow, apologize, and talk it out. Hell, I can come too. You know he loves me,” Stephen says. “Everything will work out. I know it will. That kid is too smart to let an argument ruin what you have.”

A moment of silence passes over them.

“You’re the best, you know that?” Tony says.

“I do know that, but I could always use reassurance.”

Stephen can hear Tony’s eyes roll in the dark. “I can’t believe I fell in love with you.”

“I love you too,” Stephen says.

The two heroes lay like that for a few more minutes before crawling under the blankets, cuddling close. Stephen wraps an arm around Tony’s middle, pulling him close to his chest, and together they slowly drift into sleep again.

#ironstrange #Tony stark #Stephen strange #iron man #doctor strange #ironstrange fanfic #ironstrange fanfiction #strangeiron #my writing #my fics

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breanime · 5 years ago

Text

Quality (Part Two)

Request by @kind-wolf: Ask for requests and you shall receive! 😉 I would absolutely love a sequel to "Quality". Like maybe the next time they're overseas and about to go home, Billy’s again nervous because this time he wants to ask the big question 💍 Idk. I just thought about that immediately after I read the story back then. If you're not inspired and can't write it, that's ok too! ILY ❤ Also: Your new ink is great! 😍

Thanks for the request, sweetheart! And thank you--I love my tattoos!

*gif not mine*

“You put in your PTO?” Billy asked you, smiling as he leaned closer to the computer screen.

You smiled back, and Billy wished he was with you, wished he could feel that smile against his own. “Yup,” you answered, “as requested, even though you still haven’t told me what you’re planning.”

“You’ll see,” he said back, “Five more days, and you’ll see.”

He and Frank were coming off of another tour and were currently in France awaiting their flight back to the States. As much as he liked being a soldier—a Lieutenant now—Billy really enjoyed this in-between time. He wanted to go home to you, of course, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hard. He always felt a little off when he came home from active duty, like he needed to practice being a civilian again, and he felt guilty as hell bringing his shit home to you. So, he appreciated the time between active duty and going home, liked that he was able to talk to you and have time to come down from soldier mode before he got to you. Especially now. It was almost insane to him, thinking about two years ago when he wasn’t even sure if you’d be at the airport to now; living with you, telling you he loved you, being loved in return… It was a crazy turn of events—the best kind of crazy.

Which is why he bought a ring in Paris.

“Usually, when you get home,” you said with a smirk, “We don’t leave the apartment for the first few days…”

“Oh, we’re definitely doing that,” Billy assured you, “But I’m gonna take you out, too. Show you off.” Get down on one knee and ask you to be with me for the rest of our lives. “You get that package that I sent you?”

“The one with 300 American dollars stapled to the teddy bear?” You asked back, eyebrow raised. “Yes, I did. I told you about sending me money—”

“Yeah, yeah. But this is a part of my plans,” he said, “I want you to get your hair and nails done, okay baby? And buy something pretty and lacy that I can tear off of you.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. “I don’t get why you like to spend money on lingerie when you just ruin it the first time you see it.”

Billy grinned wolfishly. Not a day went by that he didn’t think about your body pressed against his, your mouth on his, the way you sighed and moaned when he was touching you, inside you…the look on your face—devilish and scandalized—when he tore off your lingerie, devouring you with his eyes and hands and mouth. “Ruining it is kind of the point,” he answered.

The two of you talked for a little while longer, alternatively flirting and discussing your plans and making arrangements for his arrival, before Billy had to go. Your “I love you” rang in his ears long after you’d hung up, and while he knew your words were true, he also hoped you loved him at least half as much as he loved you. He hoped you’d say yes.

“What if she doesn’t say yes?” He asked hours later. He, Frank, and Curtis were in the hotel bar, having a few well-earned drinks before they had to head to the airport and hop another plane. Neither of them was drunk—the hooch in Afghanistan was way stronger than anything he’d get in France or the U.S—but it was nice to sit and drink like regular guys.

“She’s gonna say yes,” Frank said, not missing a beat. He and Billy had this conversation at least once a week since the thought of proposing popped in Billy’s head…over a year ago.

“Y/N is absolutely crazy about you, Russo,” Curtis added, “She’s definitely going to say yes.”

“Yeah, but…” Billy rotated his neck, a nervous habit he’d had since childhood. “But what if she doesn’t?”

“In what world would that happen, Bill?” Frank asked, leaning back in his seat.

“It’s possible…”

“Show us the ring again,” Curtis prompted.

Billy took the black, velvet box out of his pocket and popped it open. The diamonds glittered in the light, shining almost as brightly as your smile. That was why he chose it; it glittered like your smile, it gleamed like your pretty eyes, it was almost as beautiful as you. Almost.

“Oh yeah,” Curtis said confidently, “She’s gonna say yes.”

“Hell, give me a rock like that, and I’ll say yes.” Frank added, eyes wide even though he’d probably seen the damn thing nearly every day in the last few weeks as Billy’s nerves grew worse.

Billy laughed back, tucking the ring back into his pocket where it was safe and secure. “That’s why you’re my back-up, Frankie. If things don’t work out with Y/N, I’ll just marry you and make Curt my side chick.”

“I’ll be expecting a ring, too,” Curtis said, “And a candy thong.”

“Well now I want to have Curtis for my side chick, too,” Frank mused.

Billy laughed again, letting his friends distract him with their nonsense. In five days, he’d be back with you, and he would take you out and romance you, get down on one knee, and ask the only woman he ever loved to spend the rest of her life with him…

…or he’d just keep the ring in his pocket until you were both old and grey. He still wasn’t sure.

As the days approached, and Billy got closer and closer to New York, he wrestled with the idea of proposing. Originally, when he’d come to the conclusion that he wanted to marry you, he’d pictured himself taking you out to a nice dinner and giving you a big speech before he asked. Then he thought about doing it at home, in case you said no, so he could nurse his wounded pride in private, but that thought depressed him, so he tried not to dwell on that. He thought about doing it at Frank’s place; Maria always had a nice barbeque with family and close friends a few weeks after they got home, but the thought of you rejecting him there, in front of the only people he cared about, was way too terrifying for Billy. The thought of you rejecting him was too terrifying. But Billy was a pessimist at heart, and he couldn’t think about proposing without thinking about the worst-case scenario. It was almost enough to keep him from proposing at all, except… the best-case scenario—you saying yes, becoming his wife, becoming Mrs. Russo and maybe one day even bearing his children—God, that simple possibility was so damn appealing, he had to chance it.

He needed you.

He sat next to the window on the plane back to New York, staring out at the clouds and thinking of you. Frank was next to him, knocked out with his head on Billy’s shoulder, and Curtis was in the aisle across from them, reading a book and listening to music. Billy had his headphones in, too, but he wasn’t listening to music. He was listening to voicemails.

“So,” your voice was clear, “Remember how I was bragging about you to Gavin because his boyfriend’s a model and he’s always insufferable about it? I showed him a picture of you—and I probably shouldn’t have, but he needed to know! Like, his boyfriend looks like an uncooked noodle with a whole tomato for lips, or like, like that monster from Monsters Inc—have you seen that movie? Did they let you watch movies during your sad childhood?” Billy chuckled to himself as he listened. You had found a way to hook his cell to his email and had gotten into the habit of leaving him rambling voicemails on days you weren’t able to talk. He saved them all on his phone, his email, and a separate USB, and listened to them religiously. “Anyway,” you went on, “Remember the week before you deployed? And we went to the wine and canvas and you kept being unnecessarily sexy and whispering all those dirty things to me while I was painting? Of course you do, you pervert. Remember how I got all obsessed with painting and we bought a bunch of supplies and took them home because I, after one session at a wine and canvas where we painted a sunset and I turned it into a horror movie scene, was a natural expert? And we brought all those canvases and paint and wine and tried to paint each other? Well, I showed him the picture of you after we got into that red paint-blue paint fight, you know the one where you were shirtless, and had my hand prints all over your chest and your hair was all messy and you were smirking at me and you looked so hot? Yeah, I showed Gavin that one.” The smile was evident in your voice. “Man, that was a good night. I don’t think my legs stopped shaking for hours after… Anyway—Gavin agrees that you’re way hotter than his boyfriend, and has asked if he can borrow you for a night. I declined on your behalf. Mama don’t share.”

The next one played immediately after. Billy loved this one, your voice was soft and sleepy, and he always imagined you in bed, wearing one of his shirts hanging off of your shoulder, no pants. He loved you like that, soft and sweet, a picture that was for him only. He closed his eyes as he listened, imagining you in real time talking right into his ear. “I miss you, baby. I went to that café you like, the one with all the paintings of professional, artsy cats wearing people clothes, and it made me miss you more than usual. I love you. I know you’re doing good work, and I’m proud of you, but I miss you. Do you remember when we went to Miami and ended up doing it in an alley behind the club?” You laughed, a musical sound that Billy wanted to hear for the rest of his life. “My knees were so scrapped up after that.” You sighed. “I miss you so much, baby. I dreamt of you this morning. I love you, and I hope you’re safe. Talk to you later.”

The next message was short, but it was exactly what Billy needed to hear. “My mom called asking about you again,” your voice sounded irritated, “She went on and on about how it wasn’t fair for me to wait on someone who was thousand of miles away, and how you were ‘a nice enough man’, but you’re gonna hurt me and blah blah blah… I tried to ignore it, and I even tried to tell her about your idea for the security business, and how you, Frank, and Curtis were going to partner up and stuff, but she just… Ugh,” you sighed, “She was just committed to being negative, and…” Another sigh. “She just doesn’t get it. I mean, she married my dad when she was 17 because she got pregnant, and when he left, he took all her notions of love with him, and… I mean, I get it. I felt that way too, you know? Like love was a lie, a waste, a weakness, but… Then I met you. And the way you make me feel, Billy… I know love is real. I know you love me, and I love you. And yeah, this… This is hard, loving you and being away from you, not being able to talk to you for days at a time, worrying about you… It’s so incredibly hard, Billy…” There was a pause. “But you know what? It’s worth it. You’re worth it. And if I had to do this for the rest of my life, waiting for you to come home, talking to your voicemail until you got a chance to write me a letter or send me an email or whatever… I would do it. Because I’d do anything to be with you. Anything. And I’m sure Mom’s gonna bitch for a while longer, but she’ll see. You mean everything to me, Billy…” There was a brief pause, and the sound of cloth shuffling. “That’s Mom on the other line. Talk to you later, baby.”

Billy opened his eyes as the next message (you updating him on your latest TV obsession Love After Lockup), and stared at the clouds. You loved him so much. You were willing to go against your mother just to wait around for him. After that day, when he’d called you back, you cried on the phone with him, and he’d tried his best to soothe you, wishing he could hold you in his arms and kiss your tears away. After he’d gotten off of the phone with you, Billy had called your mom, and a few weeks after that, he called her again and asked her for her blessing to propose. She’d given him her blessing and promised not to ruin the surprise, and Billy had sent her a picture of the ring when he bought it. She called him crying, overjoyed, and called him “son-in-law”. Thinking back on that, and your voicemail saying how much you loved him, Billy knew what he had to do. He closed his eyes and slept for the rest of the flight.

Billy, as always, walked a few feet behind Frank and Curtis as they walked off the plane and into the lobby. And, as always, Maria and the kids tackled him in hugs; crying and laughing. Curt’s brothers were there, and they greeted him with hugs and laughs as well. There was a small crowd watching from the sidelines, cheering as the vets reunited with their families. Billy frowned; he hated having an audience like that, it made him feel like an animal in a zoo.

“Billy!”

The sound of your voice muted everything around him; the laughing and crying and cheering all melted away. The people melted away, the crowd and his brothers alike. All there was, all that mattered, was you. You launched yourself into his arms, and Billy held onto you tight, taking in your sweet scent, the concrete feel of you against him, the sound of your laughter and heavy breathing as you said his name over and over. No matter how many times he did this, he would never get tired of this moment, the reunion. He pulled back and kissed you, an act that he knew he’d be able to do for the rest of his life. Your eyes were still closed, and he reached out and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. You opened your eyes, and he wanted to drown in them, wanted to wake up and go to sleep to those eyes staring at him until the day he died. He never wanted anything more in his life—and Billy had spent almost his entire existence wanting and coveting and desiring, so that was saying a lot. Now he knew, all that time wishing and wanting, he’d been wishing for you. And now you were here: his dream come true. He stepped back from you, eyes focused on you and you only…

…and dropped down to one knee.

Your mouth fell open, and he could see tears shimmering in your gorgeous eyes. His vision spread, he could see Frank, kneeling on the ground, arms around his kids, grinning widely as Maria stood behind him, practically jumping up and down. Curtis had his phone out, getting it all on video. The crowd was still on the edge of his peripheral, but you were the center of his attention. Billy reached out and took your hand in his; your hands were soft, recently manicured like he’d asked, and his brain supplied an image of your hand with his ring on it. He had to make that happen.

“Y/N,” he said, taking a steadying breath as he took out the ring, opening it and feeling his heart race as your eyes widened at the ring, “will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you breathed out.

That was all he needed to hear. Billy jumped up and crushed you to his chest, kissing the side of your neck. His heart was pounding. He heard shouts and cheers and clapping, and normally, he’d be embarrassed and probably irritated at the attention, but right now all he could feel was relief. You said yes. You were going to marry him. You were going to be his wife.

You pulled back and kissed him, long and hard and slow, and Billy wanted to rip your clothes off and take you then and there. In fact, he wanted you wearing nothing but his ring for at least the next 72 hours. That in mind, Billy, grinning from ear to ear, slid the ring on your waiting finger, kissing your face as he did so.

“I was so nervous,” he whispered against your lips, still smiling.

You were engulfed in a huge group hug before you could respond, Maria, Curtis, Frank and the kids wrapping you in their arms and giving congratulations and “I knew it”s all around. As you all walked out of the airport, hand in Billy’s, ring proudly displayed on your pretty finger, he felt, for the first time in his life, like he was a complete man.

He bent his head so that his mouth was by your ear. “You’re really gonna need your time off now,” he whispered.

You grinned up at him. “Don’t I always?” You put your hand up, admiring the ring. “I can’t believe I’m going to be Mrs. Billy Russo.”

Billy glanced over at Frank, who shot him a proud smile. He turned back to you, his fiancé, his future wife, and saw his entire future standing next to him. “Well, you know,” he shrugged, smiling, “quality over quantity, baby.”

*******************************************************************************************

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #the punisher imagine

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