#giggling over the superhero life

[cookiedough77]

i want the chat noir and scarabella duo but from the beginning, they become best friends and are WAYYY too excited about becoming new superheros

i need the friendship PLEASE

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words

Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.

Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right. 

You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake. 

Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely. 

“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.

 He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create. 

“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head. 

He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss. 

“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence. 

“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter. 

“Don't make us late!” 

“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire. 

Ping 

“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls. 

“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head. 

You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek. 

“What is it?”

His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious. 

“I might have to rearrange dinner.” 

“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.

“Where did we pack the gear?”

“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -” 

Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall. 

He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection. 

You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?” 

“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking. 

“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.

“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own. 

“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?” 

He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening. 

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.” 

It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him. 

His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home. 

[yandere-wishes]

｡༺ 𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮! 𝓣𝓲𝓶 𝓓𝓻𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝔁 𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻༻｡

｡༺ 𝓑.𝓞.𝓐.𝓣 𝓫𝔂  𝓔𝓵𝓲𝔃𝓪 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵 ༻｡

Okay, so we've given all the Yandere batboys a "Cat Darling" except Tim.

[And like, could someone explain to me why people seem to hate Tim Drake?? He's literally the LOVE of my life]

Thinking her burglar name could be either StarCat or Kitten, your choice.

Anyway, his darling is probably the chronically online one. Literally iPad child. Her civilian personality is that of a semi-popular internet star, mostly in smaller niche circles like cosplay/fandom spaces/a few tech DIY spaces.

Also, this is going to sound so self-serving, but like, what if the reader had a Tumblr/AO3 where she posts  Red Robin x reader content? But after meeting him, she kinda gets stuck in a love-hate relationship with the guy...but her fics get progressively more detailed and specific. Cause like she hates him but the crush is still so obviously there!!😆😆

ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼•ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼

He's never been good at managing his obsessions. They always seem to fester fiercely within him, like tree roots feeding on hollow bones, bubbling over and spilling out from every crevice. He can't keep them inside, can't tame the infatuation, sadiate the fixation. Can't ignore the siren's calls or celestial pulls. 

No...

Tim's never been good at managing his obsessions. 

Especially this new one.

The stars seem so much brighter in your eyes. You lay spiraled out on the rooftop, leg dangling off the edge with your tablet held at an odd angle overhead. You mutter into your com-link "5 more seconds before security is down". As you chew on the end of your leather tail. 

You're the ace up Catwoman's sleeve. Her new protegee. The two of you have been hitting bank after bank. Licking up the precious gems the Gotham elite keep hidden. 

Tim's been sent to deal with you, while Batman takes out Catwoman downstairs. But he can't help but be mesmerized by your playful giggles, and sparking eyes. It's all a game to you, like playing Barbie's past bedtime. He can't help but find that almost endearing. 

You turn on your stomach, half crouched, half lying down. Like a kitten about to pounce on a toy mouse. "You're Red Robin" you squeal and Tim has to do a doubletake, knees weak at the sudden burst of attention. 

You jump, he readies his staff but the blows never come. Instead, you stand before him so close he can practically feel the heat from your body. "I'm your biggest fan!", for a second Tim thinks you're going to reach for his hand, his heart reverberates in his throat. You're cute, too cute.

"Any way I could convince you to give up your crime spree? You know since you're such a big fan and all..." You laugh, a light-hearted airy sound, and give him a clumsy twirl as you return to your edge. "Not a chance, I'm finally living my dream life!" 

You jump onto the edge eyes gleaming as they stare a him. No not him, Tim notes, the moment. You're entranced by this moment. 

The moon, the dark, the city lights, the masked man standing before you. For a second he almost sees his reflection cascading across your essence. You're him, little kid with dreams so big it's started to eat you alive. 

You tilt your head and pout your lips. Tim thinks you'd make one hell of an actress or an idol. Your clawed finger clicks your com, "All set boss!" you meow. You offer Tim a final bow before throwing yourself into the dark abyss below. Tim rushes to grab you but it's too late.

You're gone. 

His obsession only grows from there, raw and primal. He can taste nostalgia in the back of his throat every time he sees your picture. Thick and sticky like molten caramel. 

You're so much like him, so precious in your own right. Little girl playing superheroes, dancing across the night's sequence, basking in the ethereal of having the world below your feet. Disappearing into the dark, merging with the stars, high off the nectar-coated ideals behind your teeth. Savoring their melt upon your tongue. 

You'd have been best friends in the sandbox. Tim thinks. 

He's scouring the Batcomputer.

Ripping apart every inkling he finds. 

Who is this new Kitten? 

He sees you again in a sugar-spun ensemble stitched from lace and longing, draped in cascading frills and ribbons. Equal parts candygram and popcorn but ever only purple in shade. He recognizes the playful tilt of your head and the way you stare to the side when you're too deep in thought. Every move is woven in porcelain elegance. Little doll playing dress up. 

His hunch is proven right when he hears your voice.

"Do you think Red Robin would like this outfit?" you ask an invisible audience who answer hours later in the comment section, dedicating little hearts and kisses in agreeance.

His name spills from between your lips and Tim swears he sees stars. Your delicate cadence flutters through his veins pricking his heart till it dedicates every pump to you. 

Tim doesn't notice how hard he's biting his thumb. 

Doesn't notice the scarlet droplets marring the keyboard below. 

He's trying to keep you out of the Gotham National Bank's system, he can recognize your pattern anywhere. The little kitty cat errors that keep popping up. The stars that litter the screen forcing it to bluescreen. He's almost there, you're almost gone. 

Bruce, hollars commands into his ears. 

But Tim is too enthralled by the screen to notice

A single message glitches and gleams.

'It Was Fun Red Robin~♡'  

He has you caged beneath him. Fingers digging into your shoulders. You look so cute struggling to break free. So adorable that he just can't help himself. 

He presses his lips to your neck, pulling down the leather with his teeth and suckling on the ripe flesh. Stardust sprinkles into his mouth as his tongue traverses the length of your neck. Before ensnaring your plump perfect lips. His hands feel down your body memorizing every curve. He can feel you struggling. Kicking trying to break free. 

But he just can't let you get away. He needs you wholly, desperately. More than he's ever needed anything.

But he can't let you go. You taste like heaven on his tongue. Your claws melt into his back, tearing fabric and flesh. But the bloodletting feels like holy bliss from your hands, he'd gladly lick the blood from your claws and call it ichor. 

Your ethos haunts him.

He writes you love letters to you penned in his blood. 

Every quaver of his bones he dedicates to you. 

He's sprawled out on his bed reading your latest story. It's about him, as they always tend to be.  You call him such mean words all laced with a saccharinee undertone of idolization. You have him call you 'darling' and 'kitten'. Have him treat so roughly yet so lovingly. Is that how you want him to act? 

Did you really mean it when you said you're his biggest fan? 

ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼•ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼

There's also another delicious little inkling I want to leave you guys with. Imagine reader starts receiving PR from Janus Cosmetics. Imagine Roman starts to take note of the cute little kitten showcasing his company's newest products. Starts to relish in your babydoll act, enjoying you twirling around in your cute skirts and curling your hair around your finger. Imagine Roman Sionis falling for catgirl! reader as well. Imagine poor little reader trapped between Yandere Tim Drake and Yandere Roman Sionis...Poor little kitty cat, whatever will you do? 

[pinklotushere]

Bat fan

Tim's eyes widen as he takes in the sight before him, his brain slowly processing the pictures.

"You're a bat fan," he says, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement

Danny looks away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

"There's literally a picture of me mid-grapple across from us. Dude, your blankets are covered in my family's symbol," Tim points out, his tone caught between exasperation and fondness.

Danny's face flushes as he mumbles “I’ve never seen that picture before in my life,” danny lies. “And—and you happen to share the same symbol as this space group from russia, total misunderstanding, I can see how you’re confused—"

Tim can't help but grin as he watches Danny squirm, caught red-handed in his superhero fanboy moment. It's adorable, really, how this powerful ghost boy turns into a blushing mess at the mere mention of Tim's vigilante alter ego.

Tim's eyes glitter with mischief as he moves closer to Danny, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "So, you used your powers to stalk us, huh?"

Danny squirms, caught between embarrassment and the warmth of Tim's body.

"Maybe a little," he admits, barely audible, his lips brushing Tim's ear. "But it wasn't for long-! Like only a few times and-"

Tim kisses him, just to shut him up. He keeps his eyes open, if only to watch the way danny’s face melts under tim’s touch.

“You’re our biggest fan,” tim teases

Danny hides his face in tim’s neck. “You guys are so cool,” he complains, shy and soft-voiced. Tim hums, and his smile broadens; he has the cutest boyfriend. A cute, ghosty boyfriend who could dead-lift trucks. Yum

"Okay, fine," he mumbles, barely audible. "I might be a teensy bit of a fan."

Tim can feel the heat radiating from Danny's cheeks, and he can't help but grin. His boyfriend, this powerful ghostly being who could probably level a city block if he wanted to, is blushing like a schoolgirl over some superheroes.

"You guys just do so much good, y'know? It's hard not to admire that," Danny continues, his voice soft and shy.

Tim's heart melts a little more with each word. He pulls back slightly, just enough to see Danny's face, all flushed and adorable.

"You're ridiculous," Tim says fondly, unable to keep the smile off his face. "And absolutely perfect"

He playfully pokes Danny's side, relishing in the soft giggle it elicits. "You better not have any of the other's merch. you're all mine, ghost boy"

"Well..."

"That's it, you're not getting cujo in the divorce"

"Oh, come on," Danny whines, his eyes widening in mock horror. "You can't take away Cujo! He's our ghostly baby!"

Tim snorts, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.

"Fine," he concedes, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You can keep the spectral pooch, but I'm confiscating all your Nightwing posters."

Danny gasps, clutching his chest. "You wouldn't dare!" he exclaims before breaking into a fit of giggles.

Tim joins in, their laughter echoing through the room. As it dies down, Danny leans in, pressing his forehead against Tim's. "You know," he murmurs, a mischievous glint in his eye, "I might think jason is hot, but you'll always be my favourite Robin."

Tim groans but can't hide his smile. "You're impossible," he mutters, pulling Danny in for another kiss.

"I can't belive you just told me you think my brother’s hot"

Danny presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Forgive me?"

Tim pretends to consider it, tilting his head thoughtfully before a grin breaks across his face.

"I suppose I can let it slide... this time." He punctuates his words by capturing Danny's lips in a deep, searing kiss that leaves them both breathless and dizzy.

When they finally part, Tim's eyes are dark with something that makes Danny's non-existent heart race.

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Bucky is dumb.

Warnings: Fatphobia.

A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭

Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.

“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.

“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.

“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.

You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.

“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.

You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.

You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.

Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.

You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.

“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.

•••••••

You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”

“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”

“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.

An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.

“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.

You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.

When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.

You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.

He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.

“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.

Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.

“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.

“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.

You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”

He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.

“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.

“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.

“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.

You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.

You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.

He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.

Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.

A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.

[syrma-sensei]

→ Hush Hush Behind The Shield.

gif credit.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Wife!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Warnings: Vought's ungodly shenanigans, mentions of cheating, couple fighting, angst, misogyny, antiquated mentality, dub-con, power imbalance, fingering, forced orgasms, angry sex, cock riding...

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Being america's greatest hero's wife has its perks, but they don't come for free...

A/N: I'd like to thank my two pretty moots, @kaleldobrev who's been always there for me, listening to mental blurbs and chaotic spews of unhinged ideas and continuous mind dump ❤️ and @zepskies who bares my energy, which can be a bit much, each time I spam her dms with life cringing memes and awaful reacts ❤️

Kneeling down on one knee, your mitted hands hoisted the oven door close as you hummed a melody to yourself. Turning on your heels, you stood up and gave the dining table a once-over before allowing a proud grin slip on your lips.

“Perfect.”

Then your eyes glanced at your watch. It was half an hour past seven in the evening. Perfect. There'd be enough time to pamper yourself in a relaxing shower and spruce up with no rush before your husband was home.

You gave the dining room another glimpse to make sure everything was in place before you headed to the bathroom upstairs, walking through the living room where the T.V. displayed a Soldier Boy anti-drugs commercial.

A snore escaped your nose upon hearing the phrase: “Just say no.” Remembering how your husband threw a fit behind the scenes at how stupid it was, to the point of getting Stan Edgar himself on the line for him to find an alternative to it. Because no way he was saying that shit.

“God, I sounded like a fucking douchebag,” He'd told you in his dressing room, a smouldering reefer hanging between his lips — the irony, after they wrapped filming up.

You'd giggled, playfully plucking it from his lips to take a drag of your own, “No, baby, you did just fine.” You purred, and his mouth curled up into a small grin, “The public needs that y'know…” You tipped his chin up, your polished, long nails grazed lightly to his skin, “You're America's golden son, right? You're the man everyone should look up to.”

“Damn sure they should.” He'd chuckled, leaning down for a kiss which you gladly welcomed.

Being Soldier Boy's wife came with many many perks, but it also had its downsides, one of which was to have to deal with his short temper. But what could you say? You loved the man. Ardently so; you literally fought the world to have him all for yourself despite Vought's disapproval of your nuptial.

You savoured the victory when you married Ben in a small ceremony without Vought's blessing. It was like a slap to them when Ben imparted upon them the happy news, he delivered them a severe black eye, especially the vainglorious bastard Edgar. Who had once told you that you and Ben wouldn't work out, for it was simply "inconvenient" for a superhero like Soldier Boy to be involved in a serious relationship with a mere… human; it'd be a "disappointment" in the public eye, as he put it. Like he had a say in the matter.

But here you were, with a ring on your left hand to swagger about, and happily married to America's first hero, Edgar and Vought could say hello to your middle finger.

To nobody's surprise, you resented Vought, and held such abhorrence against them for not letting you and your husband live the life you wanted for yourselves. Despite your personal efforts, your proclaimed triumph was soon cut short because Vought declined to go public and endorse your marriage. Not that you and your husband gave two shits about their approval, but the rules were rules. And their lawyers affirmed that a public exposure of your marriage might damage Soldier Boy's rep, therefore, Vought's; given the fact that you were more than thirty years younger than him. They couldn't have it said that the hero of heroes was a creep even though they'd tried to conceal his age when he and Phoebe Cates starred in Love And War because it started to seem fishy. It was expected, though. But what you didn't see coming was Ben's response, or lack of response as to put it.

Despite being even more obdurate about this marriage than yourself. You felt terribly abjured by your husband. You'd thought he'd fight for you, for what you both had, and he'd want to let the world know about you. It'd broken your heart when it dawned upon you that Ben wouldn't risk his fame and glory for anyone, for you. Reluctantly, you bit the bullet, you had to, for him, because you loved him, and would do anything to keep this marriage intact. If you had to compromise for it, then so be it. You didn't care.

To your solace, Ben never changed after the frustrating incident; he was still the man you fell in love with. He might be smug, crass, and insufferable to everyone but you could still perceive the tender side he had though he'd never actually admit it, and you never pushed him too much. You were subtle enough to know when to stroke his ego and when to tease it. He was a man, after all. But it was obvious; he was a doting husband who cherished you in his own way. He showered you with gifts, and pampered you when he could. And he was eager to have babies with you. He never ceased to express how rapturous he would be if he were to have a son. A child with you.

Sure, you had your own qualms about that particular day, and there was more than a time you wanted to have a conversation with him about it. But you couldn't bring yourself to screw it up with stupid doubts. If Ben hadn't truly loved you, he wouldn't have treated you the way he did, he wouldn't have brought you to his workplace to have you at his side — and to poke Vought's eye every single time. He wouldn't have let you in and told you about his family and his dad, about his fucked-up childhood and how he became a hero.

No, your bond was bigger than any fleeting thoughts of incredulity.

You crooned softly as you wrapped a towel around your body after you finished your shower. Stepping out, you rubbed your hair with another towel and made your way down towards the kitchen to check on the pie.

Oh, Ben liked pies. You found it amusing how he'd swallow a whole pie alone and wouldn't affect him one bit; a supe sure required a lot of calories. Sometimes, you wished you had his great metabolism.

The moreish scent of baked dough and chocolate told you it was ready. You opened the oven door with a protected hand and placed the delicious pie by the window to let it cool down while you dressed up.

On your way back to your bedroom, you padded through the living room again. Your eyes glanced fleetingly at the screen only to stop abruptly in your tracks. A slight frown made it to your face as you saw a picture of Ben and Crimson Countess together. You never liked Countess. Something about her always disturbed you, and your guts were right.

Your eyes roamed the headline over and over, dilating in stupor.

Breaking News: Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess are officially together, Vought announced.

You shook your head in disbelief, hand grasping the remote control from the couch, shivering fingers shuffling through the channels.

Soldier Boy finally found the one!

Your heart paced up with each press.

A long awaited power couple is now here!

Vought just shocked the world by—

And here's Soldier Boy and Countess's statement…

It was hard to quell your simmering anger when you saw your husband smiling face with that bitch between his arms. Camera flashes and clicks swarmed around them with an entourage of reporters and interviewers.

“Hey, Soldier Boy, now you're together, what can you tell us about the first time you saw Countess? Was it love at first?” A reporter asked.

Ben scratched his beard with his gloved hand, drawling “First time I met Tess was when Vought concocted a hero collab years ago, remember that honey?”

You did remember that event very clearly. You were still Ben's secret girlfriend at the time, and it was exclusive to superheroes, yet Ben brought you there as his date.

Ben grinned as if dreamily reminiscing about the memory as he continued, “And lemme tell ya one thing, this one is a firecracker.”

Countess giggled playfully, gazing up at your husband in the most flirtatious way, it made you gag with disgust.

You scoffed bitterly at the blatant lies spurting right in your face. That specific night, Ben had childishly grumbled and complained about how much he wanted to be out of there. And to spice things up, he playfully dragged you from the pristine hall the event took place in, and fucked you raw against one of the wall of some other hall, keeping your panties as a souvenir for the rest of the soirée. He kept teasing you through the entire night, riling and messing you up. At the time, it was thrilling and venturous. Now, however, it knotted at the tip of your stomach. His focus that day was solely on you. He wasn't even aware of the bitch's presence for all you care.

“And when I first saw her… knew she was the one….”

You couldn't comprehend what Ben said after that point as a deafening buzz bolted through your ears. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and soon they were streaming from your eyes as you stood numb on your spot. Your tears splattered on the ground along with your heart.

“Honey, I'm home.” Ben announced once he stepped in the house. He sighed, putting his shield down and making his way to the kitchen where you usually would be, making his dinner. He didn't take his boots off though he knew you'd throw a fit about it, but let's just say that teasing and screwing with you was his favourite hobby. His anticipating grin soon dropped and a small scowl knitted his brows when an odd mixture of scents wafted into his nose. His eyes dilated at the unusual messy scene in the kitchen; the table was flipped over, glass splints scattered all over the floor, freshly-cooked food covering the carpet beneath the dining table, and a chocolate pie was squashed into the wall.

With a pacing heart, Ben cried your name, and hurriedly climbed up the stairs. His feet darted to the bedroom when he heard you sniffling and weeping.

An audible sigh of relief flouted out of chest when he saw you. Your hair was wet and a damp towel wrapped around your body, but his eyebrow quirked up when he noticed you packing a bag on the bed. The fuck?

“(Y/N), the fuck is going here?” You scared the shit outta me. He wanted to say, after the shitty day he had, he just wanted to have you in his arms and play with your hair.

You startled for a moment when you heard his southern accent. You used to be fond of it, but today you were certainly not.

“I'm leaving.” Your answer came out curt, your hands tugging your bag zippers close.

You heard his footsteps getting closer until you felt his hand on your bare shoulder, “What happened to you, sweetheart?”

You pulled yourself away from his hold, hissing, “Don't you fucking touch me!”

He didn't seem to heed your warning as he reached a hand to your face. Gritting your teeth, you spun around with your hand ready to deliver a slap to his cheek. However, and no matter how fast and pissed you were, he was always quicker and alerter. Fucking supe.

“You don't get to touch me ever again you asshole!” You shrieked, yanking your wrist from his grasp, your wet hair stuck to your face, chest heaving with each breath. 

“The fuck is wrong with you, woman?!” He growled with a deep scowl, “Just left you all happy and giggling in the morning, is it here? Your time of the month again?”

“Fuck you!” You spat, clenched hands rising up to his chest, “You're my fucking problem,” You jabbed a fist to chest, though he didn't move an inch, but damn didn't it feel good! You blew another punch to his stupidly firm chest again and again.

“Fucking Christ!” He grumbled, and with one strong arm, Ben wrangled your back against his chest and caged you in his steel hold, one hand securing both of your wrists above your head, “Calm the fuck down!”

Legs kicking and hands tugging, you tried to wriggle out of his arms but to no avail, you felt so helpless against his raw strength. Your anger and frustration poured out of your mouth in a wailing, broken voice, “Leave. Me. Alone!” You bellowed, “Go to your fucking Crimson Bitch!” Two rivulets of tears drizzled from your eyes again, “Go to your fucking Tess and let her fire-crack your nuts, you fucking pussy!”

“Christ on a cross, do you hear yourself talk, woman?!”

His eyes widened before his eyebrows scrunched deeply. He took you off guard when he brought you down to the floor as he crouched on one knee. Your towel unwrapped at the sudden movement and you were naked beneath his eyes. His hands were still holding you in place.

Two green eyes regarded you softly, “You really took that marketing shit for real?” He thumbed your lower lip, and his free hand trailed down your naked form. “Fucking hell, thought you were way smarter than that, sweetheart.” You shivered from both the cold and his touch, his sinful reaching your mound, “You really think I'd fucking leave you for her?”

You couldn't suppress the moan when he stroked your throbbing clit. A shot of arousal seeped out of your opening much to Ben's satisfaction. Anger made the colour of your face rise, “Fuck you! Fuck your bitch! Fuck Vought!” You spat, your eyes burning holes into his as he proceeded toying with your flesh until your voice broke, “Y-You want me to buy your shit — Ah!” Two of his thick and expert digits entered your slit, massaging your love spots thoroughly. “After you didn't stand up for our marriage?!” You groaned, hips rolling to the rhythm of his fingers.

“Is that so?” His brow quirked up amusedly. Was this funny to this bastard? Was your marriage some kind of a joke to him?

You gasped as he deliberately hit your weak spot; sweet, delightful coils fluttered at the tip of your stomach, “I was under the fucking impression that you had your pretty, little head wrapped around how this fucking business worked!” He snarled.

“Fuck you! I hate you!” Your body snapped as you came abundantly on his fingers which made him grin slyly down at you.

You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, so you took your window and jerked yourself free. He was shocked when you pushed him down on the floor and straddled his hips, your dripping cunt was drenching his pants with your cum. He raised a playful brow at you but soon was replaced by a shocked frown when you slapped his irritatingly handsome face.

“Fucking hell, you fucking little ballbuster—”

You shushed him with a finger on his lips, “You're fucking mine, Benjamin, you hear me! You're fucking mine!” You hissed, having no idea where your vigour came from as you tore his shirt off of his chest. His length poked you when you gazed with searing fire in your eyes at his, “You. Belong. To. Me.” You furiously tucked his pants and boxers down, his cock springing out with life.

A wanton moan came off your lips as you sunk yourself down his cock, whereas he grumbled in pleasure as you hugged him tightly with your wet and warm insides.

You snapped your hips harshly and he growled, “Fuck, doll—!”

Another snap, your voice was laboured, “I own you. You're married not to that whore, not to Vought, but to me!”

Your skin slammed against his meat vehemently as you gritted your teeth when another orgasm was spiralling in your body. You paced up your movement, a hand banging demandingly on his chest, “Say it! You're fucking mine!”

“Holy shit!” You watched his eyes roll backwards as he rasped, “Yours, babe,”

“Holy fuck, Ben! Ben, I'm coming again!”

That was his cue to take control again. He sat up, cradling you in his warm hold, “Cum to me, babe, fucking soak my cock.” You wabled his name, clinging to his shoulders as your climax stormed out of your body like a mad hurricane. You whimpered pathetically when his two large hands on your hips kept making you ride him through your high.

“Fucking stupid girl,” He growled, shooting his seed up your insides.

With laboured breaths, you glared at each other. You felt his cock softening inside of you, “Fucking idiot man.” You scoffed.

He chuckled with a boyish grin on his sweaty face, “That was fucking hot, think I like this wild side of you, darlin'”

You snickered, “You bet, wait until you see what I'm gonna do with that little fuck, Edgar.”

Ben rumbled a deep chortle, much to your annoyance, would this man ever take you seriously? “I swear to fucking Christ, Ben, if they—you don't break off that stupid shit with Countess and go public about us, I'll fucking burn that fucking tower to the fucking ground, because I'm fucking done with this—mhmmm!”

He cut you off with a scorching kiss and its heat made you thaw against his lips. His cock twitched inside of you.

“Jealousy looks pretty on you though, sweetheart” He teased, his lips brushing to yours.

God, damn this man and his endless ego! “Ben!” You nudged him playfully.

“Can't wait to see you wanting to snatch some ladies' heads off when we go to balls together.”

You smiled at him, biting on your bottom lip. The idea of finally being acknowledged as Ben's wife warmed your heart, and his willingness to do so made your heart race. However, disturbing thoughts loomed in your head again, “Think Vought will let us be?” You asked with hesitation. Fuck, that shit really got too deep into you.

He rolled his eyes, “Try not to work your pretty head hard 'bout this, doll,” He tucked a tress of your hair behind your ear, “The man who fucking beat the Nazis can handle some sweaty fucknuts at Vought.” There was something warmly reassuring about his smugness.

“See? All that shit wouldn't happen if you didn't stay silent while they fucking tried to play their fucking game!”

Ben chuckled, “Well, the fucking was totally worth it.”

You groaned in frustration, “Ben… I thought you abandoned me.”

Your husband furrowed his brows at you, “You women hardly think sometimes, don't you?” You scowled at his remark but he sighed, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands, “I fucking fought to make you my wife. I fucking put my whole career and name at risk for you.” You blinked at him, “The day before we tied our knot, I fucking told the boardroom that I was marrying you, that I'd fucking walk off if they tried anything funny… they didn't, till fucking today.” He sighed, “They fucking announced that bullshit before I was even told.”

“Assholes,” You whispered.

“After that pathetic act, I fucking stormed to Edgar like I stormed Normandy. Let's say that he and I did a little bit of chatting,” He gave you a conceited smirk, giving you no detail of how he got scared shitless when he saw the mess in the kitchen. He thought Vought dared to fucking do something to you. And when he heard you cry he feared the worst. But of course, he wouldn't tell you anything about that. Because he was the fucking man of this house; if his feelings of fear appeared, the sense of security he provided to this house, to you, would crumble. And he wouldn't have that. Ever.

You, on the other hand, had a weird combination of pride and happiness sprouted within your chest.

“I'm so sorry, Ben…” You said, cupping his face in your hands, “I-I don't know what came over me when I saw you with her,” You couldn't even say her name.

“Couldn't have your man stolen away, could you?” He teased you.

“Never.” You answered, “And I'm sorry for what happened, husband.”

“I mean you did make it up for me, wife,” He flashed you a cheeky grin, “Though, I don't feel particularly in a forgiving mood… yet.”

Head tilting to the side, your raised an eyebrow, rolling your hips teasingly on his cock, “Don't push your luck…”

“Try me.”

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @venus-haze, @thebiggerbear...

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

A Bumpy Ride -Oneshot

Word count: 2808

Part 2

The mission was over, but the Quinjet had been badly damaged during the fight.

“Welp, looks like we’re taking the truck,” Sam announced, turning toward the off roading vehicle on the trail that was left behind by the bad guys.

“How the hell are we all supposed to fit in that?” Bucky asked, looking at the truck incredulously.

“Well, I won’t be in it,” Sam said, his wings opening up with a whoosh.  “So that frees up a spot.”

“Oh sure, but there’s still 5 of us, and that only seats like 4,” Y/N reasoned, crossing her arms in frustration.  “With my fat ass, Bucky being an absolute unit, Peter, Wanda, and Strange–”

“Oh honey, none of us need to ride,” Wanda said.  “We can all travel differently.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Of course, I forget that I’m just so lucky to not be able to fly or teleport or swing places.”

“Neither can I, doll,” Bucky looked at her with a cocked eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, but you run super fast,” Y/N said, raising her eyebrows back at him.

“You want me to run down the mountain?” he frowned.

“No,” she groaned, rubbing her face harshly.  “Nevermind, let’s just go.  But you’re driving.  I will not be held responsible for crashing that tank.”

Bucky chuckled as they both bid farewell to the others that all took off in their special ways.  He helped her hop up into the raised truck, then had to help her get buckled with all the different straps and buckles.

“Jesus, where’s the manual for this thing?” Y/N huffed when she was finally buckled in, the straps stretched around her plushy body.  She could tell this was going to be a really bumpy ride, and quickly zipped up her tactical suit so her breasts wouldn’t spill out down the mountain.  She wasn’t a regular agent.  She’d been added as a back up to the Avengers’ missions because of her mutant powers of healing and energy absorption.  She was a living med bay, as well as a walking bomb when need be, but that was extremely rare.   She wasn’t as in shape or slender like other agents and superheroes.  At times it was confidence shaking, but usually she didn’t worry about it.  She wasn’t there to fight, just heal and take care of massive business.

“For real,” Bucky agreed at her comment as he strapped himself in.  “So fucking complicated.”  When he finished with a grunt she giggled and he glanced at her with a smirk before turning the truck on.  “Here we go.”

The ride was rough.  She was jiggling like crazy, her hands gripping the straps for dear life as the truck rolled over large rocks and down winding curves of a trail that was nearly nonexistent.  Bucky was maneuvering it well, but a new problem arose as they started down a path that had consistent bumps.  Her breath sounded jumpy as they hurtled down, and the tightness of her suit around her nether regions rode up in between her legs further.  The tight fabric rubbed against her clit, and she stiffened at the shot of pleasure that careened through her pussy.  Her jaw ticked, her eyes squinting as she tried not to visibly shudder at the feeling.

“You okay there, doll?” Bucky’s voice cut through the cabin.

Y/N glanced at him with a quick, unconvincing smile.  “Yep,” she said, way too chipper than she normally would before staring out the front window, desperately trying not to moan.

He just hummed, obviously not believing her.  Please, not in front of Bucky, she prayed to whatever god would listen, her cheeks blushing hard at the thought of cumming in front of him.  She’d had a huge crush on him for a while, but was unwilling to risk their friendship or working relationship by confessing feelings she wasn’t sure were reciprocated.  But the further down they went, the more Bucky had to tap on the brakes to slow them down the bumpy trail, the more she had to bite back the inevitable.  The pressure mounted as the fabric tightened over her clit even further.  It was getting painful, and that somehow made it more pleasurable.  Y/N was losing it.  It was happening, the zings of pleasure and desire making her pussy throb and her body tremble.  Her breathing picked up even further, crossing her ankles to try to relieve some pressure, but it only made it worse.  

“Are you sure?” Bucky interrupted, his voice sounding strained.  “Do we need to stop?”

Y/N was going to possibly take him up on the offer, but then they hit a particularly large bump in the road, the suit stretching just right on that bundle of nerves, and it tipped her over the edge.  She whimpered loudly as she came in her pants, her back going stiff and her head falling back against the seat.  Bucky gasped quietly next to her, his eyes flickering back and forth between her and the road.  It seemed to go on forever, prolonged by the never ending bumpy road.

When she finally calmed down they had found the main road, which was smooth as it careened down the last bit of the mountain.  The drive back home was still another hour, at least, and when she was able to breathe normally again she had the sudden, stomach lurching switch of pure pleasure to swift embarrassment.  She bit her lip as she tried to subtly right herself in her seat, the tactical suit now even more uncomfortable being lined with her cum.  She fought off tears the whole way home, grateful to Bucky for not saying anything, though she could feel his eyes on her periodically.

She had never been so happy to see the compound before.  Bucky pulled into the large garage, parking next to the elevator.  The second he cut off the engine Y/N’s fingers ripped at the straps and buckles, trying to free herself from the infernal truck so she could run away and hide from him.  She was mildly aware of Bucky unbuckling himself and getting out of the truck.  He opened her door a second later, reaching in and helping her get out.

“I’ve got it,” she huffed, trying to push his hands away.  She couldn’t stand to be near him right now.

“Y/N–”

She grunted as the last two straps held her firmly, her hands starting to shake as her emotions got the better of her, her eyes filling with tears and making it harder to see what she was doing.  Her breathing became heavier as she started to panic, wanting to be anywhere but here.  “Please just–”

“Doll!”  Her eyes snapped to him, her cheeks blushing madly once again.  Her tears spilled over as he gave her a pitiful look.  “It’s okay,” he said quietly.  “Just let me help you.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment before nodding reluctantly.  Bucky nodded back before reaching over her to help undo the last two belts.  It brought his face close to hers, and she sniffled quickly, looking up at the roof of the truck to avoid his eyes.  The pitiful look was rough enough, she didn’t want to see anymore pity or embarrassment coming from him.  When the last belt fell away he moved away, hands reached up to help her down from the truck.  She hesitated before letting him hold her by the hips to help her down from the near four foot drop to the ground.  She landed on wobbly legs, his hands staying on her for another moment before she pushed him away.

“Thank you,” she whispered, shrinking away and angling her body to make a break for it to the elevator.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky replied quietly.  “Listen–”

“Bye Buck,” she said loudly and ducked her head, making a beeline for the elevator, not sparing a look back, thankful to him again for not following her so she could have space.  She kept her composure until she reached her room, shutting the door and locking it behind herself before sinking down to her knees, letting out the big ugly cry she had been holding in.  How could she ever face him again?  Accidentally cumming in front of her crush because of a bumpy drive?  It was ridiculous to even fathom, and yet she’d lived it.  She dragged herself to the shower, stripping out of the tactical suit she swore she’d never wear again, throwing it in the wash on the way.  She let out her anguish even more in the shower, crying harder than she had in a long time.  I want the ground to swallow me whole.

***

The next few weeks were strange.  Everyone around Y/N could tell something was wrong, but she wouldn’t talk to anyone about it.  Every time she and Bucky were in the same room she would find an excuse to leave, unable to meet his eye or talk to him.  And whilst she was refusing to look at him, the Avengers around them found it amusing how much Bucky couldn’t stop staring at her.  

The minute they were in the same room together, Bucky would shift in his seat, his gaze settling on her alone, barely leaving her even if someone else talked to him.  It became a running joke to see how long either of them would last in the same room as the other before they ran away.  After three weeks of this mess Wanda lost her patience and marched into Y/N’s room after she had run away from the common room once again.

“Alright, enough of this,” she announced as she walked into Y/N’s room with no invitation.  “What happened on the drive back from the mission three weeks ago?”

Y/N’s eyes widened.  “Nothing,” she squeaked.

“Well something must have happened for you to run from the room whenever Bucky is around, and for him to literally eye fuck you when he sees you,” Wanda said, tilting her head and crossing her arms over her chest.  “I’m giving you a chance to tell me before I read your mind and find out for myself, because this is ridiculous.  Everyone can see something is wrong, and it's affecting the team dynamic.  So spill.”

Y/N hung her head in her hands, groaning loudly.  “Fine, just shut the door.”  Wanda quickly shut it then sat on Y/N’s bed, waiting for her to speak.  Y/N sighed and looked down at her lap.  “It was a bumpy ride down the mountain,” she began.  “I was wearing that tight tactical suit, and next thing I know it’s…riding up between my legs and…rubbing me,” she gestured to her lap.  Wanda’s eyes narrowed then widened in horror.  Y/N nodded and started to cry again.  “I fucking came right in front of him,” she said, hanging her head in her hands again.  “It was so embarrassing.  I tried so hard to stop it, but I couldn’t.  The look he gave me,” she paused, sniffing hard.  “God I could just die from the shame.”

Wanda sat in silence for a moment before she snorted a laugh.  Y/N looked at her with a hurt expression.  “Oh, honey, I’m not laughing at you,” Wanda said quickly.  “I’m just laughing at the situation.  That explains why he’s been eye fucking you.”

“He has not,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Yes he has,” Wanda raised her eyebrows at her.  “You didn’t see because you’ve been actively avoiding him since then.  I’ve seen, and heard, him.  His thoughts are loud and…quite colorful,” she said, her cheeks blushing madly.  “You do not need to be embarrassed.  If anything, him seeing that gave him the push to actually do something about his feelings for you.”

“He doesn’t have feelings for me,” Y/N retorted.  “He just saw me cum and now can’t see me without seeing that.  It’s awkward–”

“He wants to be the one to make you cum,” Wanda said.  She tapped her finger against her temple.  “I see and hear it all, honey.  Trust me.  Just talk to him.”  She reached over and gripped Y/N’s hand comfortingly before standing and leaving the room.  

Y/N watched her leave, her mouth agape in shock.  Bucky had feelings for her?  He was…eye fucking her?

***

The next time Y/N was in the conference room with everyone else for a pre-mission briefing, even though she wasn’t going on this one, she didn’t let herself shy away from anyone’s gaze, including Bucky’s.  She actually tried to catch him in the act of eye fucking her, still unsure about what Wanda had said.  When the briefing was beyond what she needed to pay attention to, her eyes settled on a corner of the room, her fingers fiddling with the necklace she was wearing.  She could feel his stare, and she slowly moved her eyes from the corner to him sitting across from her at the conference table.

Bucky was focused solely on her, his eyes flickering down her body then fixating on her fingers with the necklace.  Y/N slid her fingers across the chain, watching his eyes follow the movement with rapt attention.  He was frowning in deep concentration, his lips slightly parted, his breathing steady but heavy.  Y/N then brought the chain up to her lips, pulling the pendant up and grazing it over her lips slowly.  His eyelids fluttered at the change in movement, biting his lower lip and dragging it through his teeth before licking his lips.  Y/N tested one more time, licking her lips and slightly pursing them.  Bucky shifted in his seat, swallowing harshly.  He suddenly met her gaze and froze, realizing she was watching him.

“Dismissed,” Nick Fury called out, and everyone started rising from their chairs to leave the conference room. 

Y/N quickly scurried from the conference room, taking the stairs down to the personal rooms rather than the elevator.  She only made it two stairwells down when thundering footsteps rumbled behind her, then suddenly Bucky landed in front of her on the landing.  She gasped, looking up to where he’d jumped from.  

“Jesus, Bucky, you’re gonna kill yourself!  Or me!  Fuck,” she huffed, her hand over her heart.

He didn’t say anything, then pushed her against the opposite wall.  She gasped again as he caged her against it, then looked up at him.  His eyes were dark, a look of deep desire raging in them as his flesh hand cupped the side of her face.  “I can’t do this anymore,” he said, his voice coming out gravelly.  “Ever since I saw you cum I can’t think of anything else.”  His head dipped down to be eye level with her, and he nuzzled his nose along her cheek, his lips grazing over her skin.  “That was so…fucking hot, Y/N,” he groaned, kissing her cheek lightly.  “I know you were embarrassed, but you don’t need to be.”

Y/N’s hands were shaking at her sides as she gripped the bottom of her shirt.  Her eyelids fluttered at his movements on her face.  “You…you liked it?” she whispered.

“I fucking loved it,” Bucky grunted in her ear.  “All I can think about is you doing it again, but this time it’s because of me.”  He kissed down to her neck, licking at her throat and nipping at her jaw.  Y/N whimpered, her hands shooting out to fist into Bucky’s shirt and pull him closer.  “I want to see you grinding over my cock until you cum all over me.  You’re so pretty when you cum, baby.  Please let me see it again.”

“Is that all you want?” Y/N asked, her face moving to try and meet his lips.

Bucky shuddered at her tone.  “Well, I was hoping that maybe you could make yourself cum first, then I’ll make you cum as many times as possible, in every way I can.”  Y/N shivered as he pulled back to look at her.  “Then I’d fuck you, stuff you full of my cum until you can’t take anymore, and have you dripping me for days.”

“I’m…I’m not on the pill.  I don’t have an IUD,” Y/N said sadly.

“I don’t care,” Bucky said.  “You can have an abortion, or not.  But being linked to you forever?  You don’t have to threaten me with a good time,” he smirked.  

Her eyes widened, her head falling back against the wall as the idea of possibly getting pregnant with Bucky’s baby, being his in some capacity, was so hot she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her throat.  “You wanna breed me?” she breathed.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back, his metal hand whirring as it pushed into the wall harder with a crack.  “Fuck yes,” he growled.

Part 2?

[misspygmypie]

A Tiny Tifosi?

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Noah, Lando Norris x reader, Lando Norris x Baby Maebry, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz appearance Words: 1562 Request: Lando and yn taking mae and noah to a grand prix, but mae seems to favour other cars over her dad making lando jealous and upset. Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando Norris had been eagerly counting down the days until this Grand Prix race weekend. It wasn’t just about the thrill of competition or the chance to showcase his racing skills. This particular weekend held a special excitement for him because it was an opportunity to share his high-octane world with Maebry for the first time. The stands were already packed with enthusiastic fans when Lando, accompanied by Y/N, Noah and Maebry navigated through the paddock.

Noah, ever the curious and energetic child, tugged on Lando’s hand. “Dad, can we go see the cars up close later? It’s been so long since we’ve been at a race!”

“Of course,” Lando, trying to mask his own excitement, smiled down at his son. “I’ve got a whole itinerary planned for you guys. We’ll see the cars, the pit lane and maybe even meet some of the other drivers. It’s Mae’s first visit so I have to make it special!”

Y/N, holding said girl securely in her arms, couldn’t help but notice Lando’s extra bounce in his step. “I think you’ve got your priorities straight,” she said, chuckling. “This is a special weekend indeed.”

Lando was eager to introduce his family to his colleagues and teammates. He had been looking forward to showing Maebry, who was just old enough to be fascinated by the colorful chaos of the Grand Prix, what his world was all about. The smell of gasoline and the roar of engines were like a symphony to Lando and he hoped Maebry would catch a bit of that magic.

When they finally arrived at Lando’s car, which was gleaming under the sunlight, he carefully lifted Maebry from Y/N’s arms and held her tiny hand up to the car’s sleek livery. “Look, Maebry, this is Daddy’s car. Isn’t it amazing?”

Maebry glanced at the car, then her attention darted to the car next to it. Lando’s heart sank as he saw her little eyes light up at the sight of the rival’s red machine. The Ferrari was practically winking at her with its bright red paint and Maebry was enchanted.

“Oh, come on,” Lando muttered under his breath, his smile twitching. “It’s just a car. Mine has more... character!”

Maebry giggled and reached out eagerly for the Ferrari. Lando tried to stay upbeat. “Maebry, sweetie, Daddy’s car is super fast and cool. It’s the best car here,” he said, his voice rising to a pitch that would make any public speaker proud.

Noah, who saw his sister gleaming at the red car, had to intervene. “Daddy’s car can totally beat that Ferrari in a race! It’s like, super duper fast,” he said, his McLaren pride clearly showing.

The girl, however, continued to be mesmerized by the Ferrari, her tiny fingers reaching towards it as if she was trying to pull it into her little world. Lando’s smile faltered completely and he felt an irrational pang of jealousy. “Why is she not into my car? Is it the color? I don't understand, it’s basically the superhero of cars!”

“She’s just discovering new things, Lando. It’s probably just the bright color. Ferrari does have a certain appeal,” Y/N tried to reassure him and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

Lando tried to laugh it off but it came out as more of a strangled chuckle. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just add ‘bright red’ to my car’s next upgrade, Zak will love that.”

As the race began, Maebry clapped her hands and squealed with joy as the engines came to life. Lando was focused on the track waiting for the race to start, determined to give his best performance but every time he glanced over at Maebry in the paddock club overlooking the pit lane he saw her pointing towards the rival car. It was like a constant reminder that his daughter had developed an unexpected crush on Ferrari.

Noah, meanwhile, continued to be Lando’s most enthusiastic cheerleader. “Go, Daddy,” he shouted, waving his flag energetically. Lando appreciated Noah’s support but every enthusiastic shout from his son felt like a band-aid on the gaping wound of his jealousy.

The race progressed with Lando pushing himself to the limit. He performed admirably, navigating the track with the precision and skill he was known for. However, the nagging thought of Maebry’s fascination with the Ferrari was a persistent distraction. It was as if every turn he took was accompanied by a mental image of Maebry gazing longingly at the rival car.

After the race, with Y/N, Noah and Maebry in tow, Lando approached the Ferrari motorhome. He tried to keep his spirits high, even as he recalled how he’d set up this meeting days earlier without a clue that Maebry would develop an almost magnetic fascination with Ferrari.

He took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare himself. He hoped the sight of his friends Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz would help take his mind off the day’s earlier frustrations.

The Ferrari motorhome was a hive of activity, filled with team members, fans and the occasional stray driver who had wandered in for a post-race chat. Charles and Carlos were engaged in animated conversation with a few of their team members, their faces lighting up with the energy of a good race and a job well done.

Lando, trying to appear casual despite the slight tinge of envy still gnawing at him, waved energetically. “Hey, guys,” he called out, his voice a bit too cheerful, like someone trying to overcompensate for a bad day and he cast a quick glance at Y/N when he heard her stifle a laugh next to him.

Charles and Carlos looked up from their conversation, their faces breaking into genuine smiles when they saw Lando and his family approaching. Charles waved back enthusiastically. “Hey, Lando! Great to see you all, come on in!”

Noah, bouncing with excitement, stepped forward. “I have so many questions for you two!”

Charles laughed, clearly enjoying Noah’s enthusiasm. “We’ve got time. We will answer all of them!”

Lando shifted Maebry in his arms so she could get a better view while trying hard to keep his cool. “Maebry, this is Charles and Carlos. They’re really good friends of Daddy’s.”

Charles and Carlos turned their full attention to Maebry. “Hi, Maebry,” Charles said with a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

Carlos added, “Do you like racing, Maebry?”

Maebry’s eyes widened as she looked around, then her gaze locked onto the Ferrari logo on the side of the building. Without hesitation she pointed at it with the excitement of a kid who just discovered chocolate.

Lando’s heart sank even further. “Seriously? I might need to get her a McLaren onesie and start over.”

“Looks like we’ve got a tiny Tifosi on our hands,” Carlos said with a playful grin and exchanged an amused look with Charles. “Ferrari is pretty iconic.”

“That’s a great choice, Maebry,” Charles added. “Ferrari is all about history and passion, it’s hard not to be impressed.”

Y/N gave Lando a sympathetic look. “She’s just discovering her favorites. It’s perfectly okay and it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love your car.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Lando forced a smile, though he still felt a twinge of disappointment but he didn’t want to make a scene in front of his friends. “I just wanted her to be excited about my car, too…”

Carlos, noticing Lando’s subdued mood, decided to lighten the atmosphere. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small Ferrari keychain. “How about a little keepsake for Maebry?”

Maebry’s face lit up and she eagerly reached for the keychain. Lando, trying to suppress his feelings, joked: “Maybe I should just repaint my car Ferrari red and call it a day.”

“Don’t worry, Lando,” Charles clapped Lando on the back, “we’ll make sure she knows how awesome McLaren is too.”

As they chatted, Maebry continued to admire the Ferrari keychain, her attention completely absorbed by the small emblem. Lando watched her intensely, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. His daughter’s fascination with the rival team was a hard pill to swallow but he couldn’t deny the joy on her face.

With goodbyes exchanged and a few more photos taken, Lando’s family left the Ferrari motorhome. Maebry clutched her new keychain, her face beaming with happiness, while Noah chattered excitedly about the day’s events.

Later, as Lando carried a sleepy Maebry on his shoulder, her little fingers holding onto the Ferrari keychain and a souvenir flag, he felt mixed emotions. Despite the day’s earlier frustrations, seeing her so content and peaceful made his heart swell but he was still jealous.

Y/N looked at Lando with a knowing smile. “You did great out there and Maebry had a blast, even if she’s got a bit of a rivalry going with your car.”

“I guess she’ll have her favorites just like everyone else. At least she had fun,” Lando chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

Noah, still buzzing from the day’s excitement, grabbed Lando’s hand. “Dad, you were awesome! Even if Maebry likes the other car, you’re still the best!”

“Thanks, buddy,” Lando said, squeezing Noah’s hand. “That means a lot.”

As they walked to their car Lando glanced down at his daughter. Maybe one day she’d appreciate his car’s greatness - or at least learn to love both Ferraris and McLarens.

________

AN: This request made me chuckle so hard lmao I had so much fun writing this!! (Also, the irony of me writing this after the past weekend 😭)... Anon I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

[leviraaaaaa]

“Daaa-ddy.”

Levi startles, looking up. The little girl stood before him, all wide eyes and beaming at him.

“Yes? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

She shrugs, then thrusts out a hair brush and a set of scrunchies. “Do my hair today!” She grins.

Levi is taken aback slightly, not at all expecting such a request. It’s not that he had a bad relationship with his daughter really, if anything Levi spends every second that he can spare with her. But even so, it was so sudden and specific, not to mention she has never asked him to do it before. It was you who helped her get ready.

“Doesn’t mommy usually do that?” He asks slowly. “Is she busy?”

She shakes her head quickly. “I just want you to do it today.” She smiles, holding the brush out to him, waiting for him to take it.

Levi glances at it then looks back up. How could he say no to that?

So, without a word, he motions her to turn around which she follows happily, pulling a stool nearby to sit between Levi’s legs. Levi takes the brush, though slightly hard to hold without his missing fingers, he manages, combing through the black silky strands.

Like his.

Though, his own hair was stranded with gray now, a sign of the long years he had lived. Even Ackermans don’t stay young forever.

But it’s still so strange to him, having her here, right in front of him. He still freezes a little when she smiles at him, watching her with awe. She looked almost exactly identical to him, starting from the shape of her face to the color of her eyes, just the exact shade of the silvery blue that his own eyes hold. But there was a brightness in those eyes that Levi doesn't think he ever had. She was like this little ball of sunshine, always so bright.

And her smile, that came from you.

She was his. Yours. Theirs.

A part of him and a part of you. A whole other human being. A child. A blessing.

It was the hardest at thr beginning. For him to get used to it. Despite the 9 months of pregnancy, it was when he first held her that the realization finally hit him. That she was his daughter. His.

And the moment his eyes locked with the newborn, he knew he was doomed.

That there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this small, small, absolutely tiny person that came to earth no more than half an hour ago. That he had just met.

It was crazy how it only took him only a moment for him to swear his life for her, to become so protective. It was actually ridiculous, how he felt anxious even when it was the nurses holding her, he’d been so rigid, so poised. Even when handing her over to someone else’s arms, he had his hand outstretched because just in case. It took a shit load of convincing from you for him to let Jean and Connie hold her.

It was crazier watching her grow up. Never had he felt this ridiculous amount of pure joy and excitement ever. Only to hear her first words, to watch her take her first steps, holding his hand. He swears it was only yesterday.

His chain of thought was cut off as she started to happily chatter about things. Unlike Levi, she talks. A lot. Levi doesn’t mind, he listens quietly. Every once in a while, inserting a comment.

“I’ve read about you. In the history books. Our teacher taught us.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, brushing softly. “What’d you learn?”

“They called you humanity’s strongest.” She stumbles on the word a little, which was a bit heavy for her usual vocabulary. She turns around to look at him with awe and wonder, wide eyes asking for confirmation. “That’s so cool!”

He only lets out a small hum in response.

"Will I be as strong as you one day?"

"Sure. You already are." He hopes she never needs to be.

“I saw your picture too. And mommy’s. Also, Uncle Connie used to be bald back then.” She finishes with a giggle, the idea of Connie’s lack of hair amusing her. “You were like a superhero, weren’t you daddy?”

“I wouldn’t shoot that far.” He answers with a small smile.

Back then, Levi had never imagined the idea of having a family. There, caged between the walls, surrounded by those tremendous monsters. When there was no guarantee that you’d come back alive once you’re out there. How could he even think of bringing a child to the world, if he couldn’t even do the least that is to promise their safety?

But now, here she runs and plays outside, without a worry in the world, tirelessly. She doesn’t have to starve like Levi had to, she grows up with only all the good the world has to offer. She doesn’t know the worst of how things could be and Levi hopes she never does. She doesn’t yet understand the role Levi and you had played in creating this world, but she does understand the value of it. She asks questions sometimes, about the wheelchair and the eye and the hand. About your scars and why somedays you can't get yourself from bed. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to answer. And Levi knows, one day, he’ll have to tell her all of it, life back then and the life he had. But for now, he prays, let her grow up with only love and pureness. Let her see the world in her rose colored glasses. Something he never got to do.

She taps Levi’s leg as he bunches the hair to tie a ponytail. “Do braids.” She says.

“Braids? Don’t you always wear a ponytail?” Levi asks.

“Yes, but,” She tries to explain, stumbling for words. “Tash always pulls by it.”

Tash was one of her classmates, Levi knew from her frustrated rants about him. From what he could gather, neither liked each other much. “Next time he bothers you, you do the thing that I taught you.” He tells her.

“The thing with my hands?” She asked brightly, balling her hands to show him.

“Hey, no beating up kids at school. Levi!” You appear in the doorway, only catching the last bit of the conversation. “Don’t give her ideas. And you,” You look at your daughter who was smiling smugly. “I’ve been looking for you–wait, is Levi doing your hair?” You say, finally noticing and very surprised.

‘Yes!” She replies excitedly, “He’s doing braids! He’s very slow though.”

Levi playfully pats her head. “It’s because you keep moving.” He sighs. “Must you need braids? I’m not sure if I can–”

“Yes.”

Levi was about to say something else until she turned around, giving him the most adorable pout ever, eyes all round and needy, her brows pinched together. “Please?” She asks sweetly.

Well damn.

Levi tries, he really tries. But the word no somehow managed to disappear from his vocabulary, along with all of its synonyms. So he sighs, nodding.

“Levi, I can–” You start.

“It’s okay.” He puts up a hand, stopping you. He doesn’t know much about the process, but he’s spent enough time watching you do her hair. So he thinks he can manage it. “I can do it. Probably.” He says uncertainty.

It was slightly difficult to manage multiple sections of hair when you’re missing two fingers, but even surprising himself, he does manage it, after a few attempts. A little uneven, but works.

"Happy?" He asks her, patting her head.

It was good enough for the girl, who jumped up right after it was finished and cheered happily as an answer to Levi. She jumps to his arms, pulling him by the neck to plant a big smooch in his cheek.

“You're the best.” She beams at him, then running off to grab her bag which was by the door.

“Wow, mommy’s nonexistent now?” You fold your arms in mock offense.

She doesn’t answer, only picks up her bag and runs to hug you full speed, wrapping herself around your knees. “I love you.” She calls out, then turns to Levi. “And I love you too! I'm leaving now!”

Then she was out the door before you could say I love you back.

“Don’t run, you’ll fall.” Levi calls out to her, who was already far out of hearing range.

You closed the door. Then leaned against it, staring at Levi.

Levi looked away, cheeks heating up slightly, noticing the strange way you were staring at him, already knowing what comes after.

“So.” You said.

“So, what?” He said, glancing at you.

“Where'd you learn how to do braids?"

He huffs. "From you. I watched you do it.''

"Really?' It was so cute you could melt.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He grunts. “She’s my girl. I can do her hair sometimes, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“So, I’m not your girl?” You pout, exactly the same expression your daughter made just moments ago. “How come I don't I get braids?”

“I–” Levi starts, then huffing frustratedly. He can’t even say no to his daughter, who was he to say no to the mother? He tries nevertheless.

“I’m not doing it. Stop looking at me like that.”

You did not look away, pouting out your lips more.

“I won’t.”

You blinked, turning your expression sadder.

Levi gives up.

“C’mere.” He sighs.

[caramel-maveeato]

𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: a private moment with your (lovable) red-headed bastard can lead to something a lot… harder.  ♡ Pairings/Love interest: Akabane Karma x GN!reader ♡ Genre: suggestive, fluff ♡ TW: sexual theme (but no you’re NOT having sex), a lot of kissing, boner (Karma’s), cursing, Karma is a simp, awkward virgins. ♡ Word count: 2.3k

Note: All characters originated from “Assassination Classroom” except for y/n.  All characters are 18 or older. English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Akabane Karma likes to control other people. 

He’s cocky. He’s sadistic. He’s a little piece of shit. Not that he’d be a toxic control freak in a romantic relationship, Karma still thrives on that feeling of holding power over someone, aided by a heart full of love for dominance and a twisted idea of justice. Oh god, he’s a fucking menace. 

Yet he finds himself being reduced to uncontrollability the moment you crashed into his life.

It’s uncomfortable and it hurts his gigantic ego. But when you throw that ridiculously pretty smile at him, when you giggle in a heart-achingly adorable sound when he tells a good joke, when you flip him off so badass-ly as his bullshit irritates you, the list goes on—what should’ve been a stab to his pride suddenly turns into tender sparks of light in his stomach. 

Akabane Karma knows he’s severely fucked. 

But hey, he has no mind to be thinking all that now. Even his most favorite superhero or whatever movie is fading into the background, leaving only thoughts and appreciation for the pleasant weight he holds dear to his lap, for every sweet sound of breathlessness as his lips dance with his partner’s. Karma doesn’t care about anything else but you right now, let alone giving a shit about that unimportant throb of shame at how desperate he’s being. 

“Open your mouth a bit more…” Your boyfriend murmurs. His soft, plump lips coaxing yours to part further, creating more space for his greedy invasion. 

You oblige immediately. Karma wastes no time tracing your warm tongue with his own, sucking gently on your bottom lip. His hands move from your hips to the underside of your thighs, tugging you even impossibly closer even though there is already no distance left between you two. 

Kiss after kiss after kiss. Each one drives him mad with a turbulent need for more. Like a limitless void nothing could ever fill up but you. You. 

You’ve destroyed him. 

“Karma…” You breathe out against his lips, your own deliciously kiss-swollen and you could tell the redhead almost rushes to chase after them again just by his impatient look. “I… Break’s over, I still need to finish that essay.”

Karma gives you an unapproved look, his voice low and rough from kissing for what felt like five minutes straight. “Oh c’mon, you just gotta ruin the mood, huh?”

It’s not like you want to abandon the fun either. But you have no choice, this research paper is due at midnight and worth a hundred points. As much as it pains you to separate from your unbelievably charming boyfriend during such a passionate moment, you have to lock in. “You mean I should save the mood and ruin my grade instead?”

Karma argues stubbornly. “Why care so much? I can just help you finish it later. Easy.”

“The offer is appreciated, but this is my education so… No.”

Your determination has Karma roll his eyes in annoyance. Holding eye contact, he slowly closes the distance in to press a kiss on your chin, his stupidly handsome face does a great job at slipping the seductive act through your guard. “Not even five more minutes?” 

You hesitate, heart thumping as loud and clear as a drum. “No.”

“Hmm…” You feel his soft mouth on your jaw this time, following a path down the side of your neck. And before you can even gather all those strength left and tell him off, your head already automatically tilts to give him more access, earning a satisfied chuckle from your darling devil. “I promise will make it worth your precious time.” 

It’s unrealistically hard to refrain from giving in when he’s like this, and Karma knows that fact very well. He’s extra observant when it comes to people he cares about, so imagine the tenfold effort since you’re literally on top of his pyramid. 

The way you’re so obviously fascinated with him is just enhancing his chance to break that paper-thin wall you called “I still have to work.”

His hot breath fans your skin as he inhales deeply and exhales, relishing the sweet scent he’s grown too attached to. Karma draws soft kisses on your pulse point while his calloused fingers travel up your spine, creating lines of goosebumps despite the T-shirt you’re wearing. His low mumble muffles against your neck. “You’ve been on that laptop all day, can’t even spend a few more minutes entertaining your boyfriend?”

Meeting your protesting gaze, Karma only tilts his head innocently, piercing Mercury eyes sparkling with both mischief and victory, and adoration too, just for you. “What? I thought you said you love me.”

To be fair, that class is just a random elective you take that has nothing to do with your major. So since his very first offer to ditch the assignment, you already made up your mind to do just that. But dating this arrogant little brat, you sometimes can’t withstand the urge to play hard to get. “Fine…”

Seeing that familiar shit-eating grin blooming on his face, you quickly add. “Only because you won’t stop complaining.”

“Yeah yeah, as if you aren’t also bored out of your ass reading those 5 feet long documents.”

You roll your eyes, yet feel no annoyance as you warmly bring your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing across the soft skin that had dusted rosy from the previous affection. Suddenly, you want to see even more of that pink tint as something in your chest floats gently on air when he leans into your palm. 

“Kiss me again.”

Karma raises his eyebrows ever so slightly at the sound of your voice, then smirks. “Oh? You want me to do what? Couldn’t quite catch it.”

You want to get mad, although embarrassment and giddiness kind of overcrowd that specific emotion, plus you can’t really deny that Karma’s hypnotizing way of acting smug is one of those traits that wooed you in the first place. “Kiss me again before I change my mind.” 

“How bossy.” He lets out a pleased snicker. But instead of the persistent teasing like the bastard he is, you receive that lovely softness on your lips in no time. 

The taste of your lips always manages to knock the air out of his lungs and Karma was quick to feel his head spin again. Doesn’t matter if this is the nth time you’ve kissed, he just simply can’t take it. Not with that attitude of yours he finds so endearing, not with your thighs on either side of his hips, not with your sweet lips melting against his own in a silent declaration of fondness. 

Fuck. His first thought as you gently bite his lower lip, your fingers fluidly tangling in his hair. Every little action of yours easily becomes his weakness and you never miss a chance to exploit it. But oh fuck. He loves it. 

Karma is a human, he has limits. And here his beloved treats his poor self-control like a jump rope, hopping up and down and back and forth so naively while he fights for his life. One of his hands grips your thigh tightly, the other cups your jaw, tilting your face to his heart’s content as he devours your mouth. Nothing is enough. The need for more and more is escalating like vines crawling up a trellis once he’s gotten a taste of heaven. 

You two pull away after a long, breathless moment, panting for oxygen in spite of the mutual eagerness. Karma stares into your eyes, admiring the exquisite color of your irises between half-opened lids. That’s until he notices a purse of your reddened lips, forming a shy thin line as you slowly look down at his lap. 

Seated on his thighs, you, of course, feel it as clear as day that something is awake and poking at your lower stomach. You avert your gaze right after the discovery, however, since you’re still in the early stages of this relationship, just the sight of his excited tent is already enough to render you both speechless. 

Your boyfriend edges forward, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, shielding his expression. But judging from his pink ear, you suppose the prior smoking-hot make out session isn’t the only reason he’s seeming all bashful now. 

“Ignore it.” He mutters against your skin, his voice slightly strained. “I’ll calm down in a minute.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” You answered, carding your fingers through his hair with wordless reassurance. Inexperienced most of his life due to trust issues, while it’s apparent that Karma tends to mask his vulnerability with brashness and confidence, you can still imagine how he feels right now must be similar to mentally being stripped naked for the first time, awkward and confused. 

And aroused. 

When you start rubbing his head, Karma still falls headfirst into your affection like a cat, welcoming in a small breath as his nose is once again stuffed with your scent. “Well, I guess I’m happy that you don’t mind.” 

Despite his relief that you’re not bothered by the unexpected fuss inside his pants, he’s still just a little bashful that you saw him at any moment that is not ‘cool.’ Yes, your kisses usually end up with him being more than a little worked up, but it’s not typically this… reactive. 

Not getting an answer from the redhead, you speak. “I mean it, Kar.” 

Internally giggling at the dumb nickname, you gently plant a peck on his temple, muttering into the soft, silk strands of crimson you wholeheartedly adore. “I don’t mind seeing your… ‘friend’ react to me so strongly. Honestly, isn’t it just trying to say you like me a lot?” 

You hear a tender sigh emit on the crease of your shoulder, either an abashed huff or a sheepish laugh. “You’re not helping, y’know.” 

You grin, patting his head. “Then stop hiding and tell me what’s gonna help.” 

“I’m not hiding.” 

Before you can resume your smugness, he continues, timidness too faint to be located in a pool of accusation. “It’s your fault, ‘s all your fault.”

Karma finally forces his own face out of the comfortable spot he was burying in. His cheeks are cherry red, almost identical to the beautiful shade of his hair. Oh, and it’s definitely tugging at your heartstrings, giddy but lingering like a rain pouring on thirsty earth. “How the hell is it supposed to be my fault?”

He rolls his eyes, smirking in an attempt to regain his composure. “See? You’re acting up and conveniently, I happened to find it hot.”

“You’re so ridiculous.” 

Karma only laughs in response. Not that he thinks you’ll be weirded out just because he has a physical reaction. It’s more of a personal thing for Karma because he hasn’t had much chance to open up to anyone in his life, so intimacy like this is kind of new and foreign and intimidating. He wants to take it slow so he doesn’t lose himself in the feeling. It’s impossible not to, though. 

“Now, since it was entirely your fault…” He drags out while staring at you with intense, calculated confidence. “Hurry up and fix what you’ve started.”

The previous shyness is already thrown far away behind his head so motherfucking fast it’s scary, you soon find yourself feeling small and cornered in his embrace. “...And how should I do that?”

A tiny pause goes by. Karma smiles lazily. “Kiss me.”

You blink, before returning the smile with a more challenging one. “Oho, sure you can handle it? I can see your… ‘brother’ hasn’t calmed down yet.” 

Karma can see you glancing down at his misbehaving problem, which is still standing there gloriously despite the betrayal inflicted on its owner. 

His throat feels thick and dry, forcing him to unconsciously gulp down. Karma reaches out a hand to grip your chin, tilting your head back up towards him. “What if I told you I don’t want to calm down?”

You look at his lips out of instinct, equally tempted even if you wish to conceal it. To conceal how much you’re aching to fulfill his request right away. “If you say so, don’t mind if it stays up that way for a bit longer.”

“Oh, I surely wouldn’t mind that.” The sentence’s finished with you getting engulfed in another kiss. 

This one is hard, bruising in a way, as if he’s trying to tell you something in between the flawlessly melded lips. Whatever that is, you might’ve said yes instantly if he worded it out loud. 

Each caress and whisper of your mingling mouths sends heat straight to his groin. Karma is a normal, healthy guy— a young adult whose hormone level is at the highest peak of his entire life. Especially now when he has his most favorite person on his lap, looking all gorgeous just for him and carrying out so perfectly the ultimate duty of loving him. Your warmth permeates like stars appearing between gathered clouds. Your touch blooms like unfurling flowers. Your everything feels like home. 

Not the empty house that burned loneliness in his skin, reminding him of a boy that was no different from a shadow in a world full of light. No, you feel like his real home. 

You mauled his sanity. You murdered his willpower. 

Karma’s self-control is purely non-existent in your vicinity. The night ended with your lips swelling and your clothes almost off. Almost. Your research essay’s been taken care of excellently under the hands of academic weapon Akabane Karma. Let’s just say it was a win-win.

A/N: So I caved in and actually wrote a Karma fanfic because I miss him so much and seeing those 10th anniversary on Twitter had me bawling I miss my sillies sm (especially shitty lil Karma my husband our kids miss him) Anyway hope you had fun reading. HAPPY KARMA'S DAY 🎄♥️

[petersparkerrs]

stress remedy

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

- pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

- summary: after some stressful times with school, peter surprises his pretty girlfriend with some flowers

- warnings: basically nothing, just pure fluffy! some kissing + mentions of stress

- word count: 1.7k

- author’s note: hiii! my first tumblr fanfic ever. requests are open, i’ll be doing mostly peter parker and andrew garfield.

—————————————୨ৎ

Your boyfriend has a busy life, and you truly have no clue how he even manages. Balancing you, schoolwork, his internship at Oscorp, and being a fucking superhero?

Obviously, that’s far too much for many people. But Peter Parker isn’t just anyone — he’s your sweet boy, the one that does it all. Even with all of his duties, the poor guy still is the most perfect boyfriend in the world.

Between the stress of school and work and whatnot, each day is beginning to feel longer and longer. Days were dragging on into colder winter nights, rather than the fun nights in the summer where you and Peter had as much time as you could ever possibly want.

You almost had no time. Coming home from school or work, you’d go right down for a nap, wake up for dinner and homework, then go straight to bed. The only thing keeping you awake for the few dull hours was your wonderful boyfriend.

Tonight was the same: half asleep in bed, your cat cuddled up to your side by force and threatening to escape the cuddles. A few sheets of homework on the desk, obviously undone, the TV on instead.

Peter knows you’ve been having a tough time at school, he’s the most adorably observant person you’ve ever met. And even with all of his own seemingly never-ending issues, he managed to put you above them all.

Your cat finally wriggled out of your arms and leaped out of the bed, scrambling under it at the sound of a knock on the window: Peter’s signature knock, to be exact. Before you can react, the tiny double-tap knock is accompanied by a gorgeous — maybe just slightly crumpled — bouquet of flowers.

They’re strung up by an all too familiar web, dangling down off of the upstairs neighbors’ Juliet balcony.

You felt like such a princess whenever Peter gave you such a dramatic arrival, dangling flowers and snacks or swinging in to surprise you. Only to be more princess-like, you scampered over in your dainty pajama set to the window, opening it and resting your arms delicately on the chilled windowsill.

Your chin soon joined, settling down on top of your forearms adorably, the stupidest grin plastering across your face when Peter finally swings down and takes the flowers off the web.

“Hi, spidey.” You giggled and stood up, opening it further to pull him inside with no effort to be careful.

“Hi, sweet girl.” He beamed back and stumbled into the bedroom with a chuckle, that all too familiar boyish grin crossing his own pretty face.

In seconds, the two of you became a tangled mess of limbs. The flowers were quickly discarded onto the desk, a quick web shooting from his wrist to shut the window and stop the chilly breeze that was slowly infiltrating the room.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you right up into your favorite spot. Your body was suspended up into the air, rested so perfectly flush against his own.

With the quiet giggles and kisses exchanged, your sour and tired mood was forgotten faster than anything.

The familiar feeling of his cold hands traveling under your shirt and across your back was intoxicating as usual, making you want to melt right into him and stay there forever, to forget about all of your worries and just be with him.

Your mind was just Peter. Peter, Peter, Peter.

“Got you a gift. Thought you might need a little pick-me-up with that midterm you’ve got coming up.” He backed up to carefully set you on the edge of the soft bed. The feeling of your head tucked so deep into the crook of his neck and his scent going straight to your heart was quickly missed, but he’ll be back soon enough.

Peter grabbed the flowers off the desk and jumped right onto the bed, earning a playful giggle from you.

“Yeah? When’d you have time to pick those up?” You scramble the second he’s laid down, crawling up the bed to accompany him.

His hands glided up your waist like silk, squeezing your sides under the pretty little lace tank top you’d chosen for pajamas tonight. It was an instinctive behavior for Peter, and you were settled in his lap in no time. No matter how often he touched you like this, it’s always as equally electrifying.

“May or may not have stolen them on the way home from Oscorp tonight.”

Once you were cuddled up in his lap, his hands moved toward your head without thought to card through the locks of your hair, pulling you closer with a quiet, domestic hum.

His words earned a snort from you, exhaling heavily while you settled on top of his body, head instinctively finding its favorite spot in his neck.

“Wow, how special am I? My boyfriend steals me flowers.” You joke, pressing the softest kiss to that sweet spot behind his ear.

In return, his hands moved up your shirt, the tip of his thumbs just barely ghosting the bottom cup of your breasts.

“Shut up, I just wanted an excuse to see you. You’ve been so holed up recently at home.”

Your eyes roll and your arms tighten around his neck, scoffing and feigning annoyance.

“I have not been holed up, thank you very much. Just … studying?” You laugh and shift in his lap, reaching across his now warm body to grab hold of said stolen flowers.

They were pretty, just maybe slightly crumpled up. But that’s the Peter Parker charm: everything had to be a bit messy when it was coming from him.

“Yeah, studying. How’s that going?” He snickers back, running one strong hand up through the top of your hair to expose your face that he was so enamored with.

The feeling of a gentle kiss to your forehead melted your heart like usual, making you both soften up and quit with the teasing.

“Not good,” you sighed, slumping back down and going all limp on top of him, your nose faintly brushing his jawline. “I haven’t done any of my homework. I’m so burnt out.”

Peter’s own face softened at that, looking down at you and brushing more of that hair out of your face to get a proper look. To his suspicion, your faint eyebags looked … well, a little less faint.

“You’ve gotta get some rest, then, baby.” He sighed and brushed his own nose into your hair, pulling your head under his chin to rest there while one hand stroked down the base of your neck.

You opened your mouth to protest, but you knew fighting over things like this with Peter never gave you a win. As much as you love him, he’s so damn insistent — he won’t let you do anything if it’s not all beneficial for your mental health or whatever he’s going on about.

“Fine. I’m not gonna fight you tonight.”

Your hands quickly work down his body, tugging at his belt in an attempt to get it off. He helps you work it off quickly, climbing out of bed for a moment to discard his jeans and coat to get comfier.

You only whined a little bit when he got up. To be fair, both of you were awfully clingy, not just you.

“Good, you’re not touching that laptop again. Not after that essay you spent all of our time on the other day.” Peter says, and the second the clothing hits the floor you pull him back down with a quiet giggle.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

He’s tugged nice and close quickly, so perfect against your body. The comfort of your bed has warmed his body up and he’s just in heaven with you wrapped up in his arms.

“No, don’t wanna go to bed.” Your face turns into a pout at his comment, stuffing right into his neck like always. “Let’s just talk. Get my mind off of school. Please?”

As convincing as you attempted to be, the yawn threatening to pull at your lips and the clingy nature you only fell into when you’re really tired gave you away.

“Baby, c’mon. Look at you. All pretty, but exhausted.” He cooed and chuckled, stroking the back of your hair to pull your head back under his chin the way he likes.

Quiet, protesting giggles escape your mouth, but when he keeps trying to pull you closer you’re on the verge of giving in.

At the sound of your constant stubborn whines at the simple thought of going to bed, Peter knows he’ll have to step it up.

“Come on. I’m not gonna be able to sleep myself if I know you’re stressed out. Let’s go to sleep, sweetheart.”

The gentle tone of his voice and slight puppy eyes urged you further and you truly can’t help it in that moment. A sigh escaped your mouth and you reluctantly moved closer, pulling the covers over the two of you.

“Fuck off. Fine.” You yawned once you finally allowed yourself to, letting your body go limp against him.

“There you go. Just close those pretty eyes, yeah? They look heavy.” He whispers, making sure the comforters are over you in every spot, not letting a sliver of skin exposed to the cold air when you could be snuggled with him.

Your protesting let up every time Peter whispered in your ear, the sweet words setting your mind right into a sleepy state. Little “love you’s” and “I’m right here’s” were so quick to ease your mind every time, even at your most stressed state.

“So easy to bribe.” He chuckles against your head once you’re asleep, pressing a last kiss to the top before shutting his own eyes. “G’night, baby. Love you. Always.”

[latenightreadingpdf]

Hidden in Plain Sight (3) - Dave Lizewski

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖⋆ Part 1 ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ Part 2 ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: When Y/S/N saves Kick-Ass from a dangerous situation, he becomes obsessed with trying to uncover her true identity. Little does he know, Y/S/N is a girl from his school who secretly has a crush on him as well. As they patrol together, their worlds collide in ways neither expected, leading to a surprising revelation about who's really behind the mask.

Y/S/N - Your superhero name

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Y/N strolled through the neighborhood, her mind buzzing with ways to tease Dave. She was endlessly entertained by how adorably flustered he got under that mask—especially when she pushed the limits, gushing over him like he wasn’t the same guy beside her, trying desperately to stay composed. She knew he tried to be respectful, but she often caught him sneaking glances at her chest, and every time she called him out on it, he’d blush furiously under the mask.

Lost in her thoughts, she was pulled back to reality by a quiet cough from behind. Turning, she saw Kick-Ass himself standing there, adjusting his mask nervously.

“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to show up,” she teased.

“I–uh, sorry I’m late,” he replied, still slightly out of breath.

She smirked, nudging him lightly as they began walking. “Oh, don’t worry about it! I just wanted to tell you all about Dave. I finally talked to him yesterday, and it went so well! I asked him to tutor me in calc, and he said yes. Now we’re going to spend all this time together.” She glanced at him, watching his hands start to fidget as she kept going. “I’m just worried, you know? I’ll be trying to learn, but I don’t think I can focus when he’s around. God, he’s so hot. And those hands…” She trailed off dreamily. “I always wonder what they’d feel like on my—”

Suddenly, Kick-Ass stumbled over his own feet, nearly tripping into the street. Y/N pressed her lips together to keep from laughing out loud, but she couldn’t stop herself entirely.

“Sorry,” she giggled. “I know I’m rambling. What about you? Got anything spicy going on in your love life?”

Kick-Ass cleared his throat, clearly flustered. “Uh, yeah. It’s, um… good.”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, you have to give me more than that! I’m basically pouring my heart out here, and I get ‘yeah, it’s good’? Spill!”

“Okay, okay, fine,” he relented, clearly trying to think of a way to answer without giving too much away. “There’s this girl, and she’s—”

CRASH.

Oh thank god, Dave thought.

A loud noise cut him off, followed by shouting around the corner. Instinctively, he snapped to attention. “I’ll tell you later,” he said, as the two of them took off, sprinting towards the sound to see how they could help.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The next day, both Dave and Y/N stepped up their game a bit. Dave put extra effort into picking a shirt that didn’t smell like his closet floor, even making sure his hair didn’t look like he’d just rolled out of bed. Meanwhile, Y/N chose a lower-cut shirt and wore that perfume she knew drove him crazy, adding just a hint more makeup for that extra polished look.

As calculus neared, Dave practically power-walked to the classroom, heart pounding, and took his seat, eyes glued to the door. When Y/N entered, she caught his gaze, offering a warm smile and a wave.

“Hey, Dave,” she greeted, walking up to his desk. “Are you still free to tutor me after school?”

“Of course!” he replied, perhaps a bit too eagerly, but she just smiled, and he watched as she headed to her seat.

For the rest of the day, Dave’s mind was nowhere near his classes. The only thing that seemed to register in his brain was the thought of his upcoming study session with Y/N.

When the final bell rang, Dave wasted no time heading to the library. Halfway there, his phone buzzed with a text:

Y/N: At the table near the back of the library :)

He found her easily, smiling as she waved him over. “Hey, Y/N. Are you ready to start?” he asked, taking the seat beside her.

“Yup! I was hoping we could go over the first unit,” she replied. “I think missing that might be why everything else isn’t making sense.”

“Sure, let’s start there,” he said, pulling out his textbook. He walked her through some basic concepts, then pulled out a sheet of paper to work through a few examples. As he began writing, Y/N scooted her chair closer to get a better view, leaning in, and he felt his mind go blank for a second.

“Uh, so, um,” he stuttered, nearly forgetting what he was supposed to be teaching.

With every example, Y/N seemed to get closer, her shoulder brushing his every so often, her perfume making it impossible for him to concentrate. By the end of the session, Dave was practically melting, trying to keep his focus.

“Thanks so much,” Y/N said as they stood up, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “You’re a great teacher, Dave.”

He barely managed to stammer out a reply, feeling like he’d floated to another dimension. As they walked toward the library doors, she mentioned she was planning to walk home.

Dave felt a surge of courage. “I could, um, walk you home if you want?”

She smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

The walk was relaxed, conversation flowing easily. They talked about comics, giving each other recommendations, Dave told stupid stories about Todd and Marty, Y/N talked about a party she went to, and just learned more about each other. Every minute of it felt more natural than anything he’d experienced, like the superhero masks weren’t necessary anymore.

When they finally reached her house, Y/N turned to him, eyes warm. “Thanks for walking me home, Dave. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He nodded, practically grinning from ear to ear. “Definitely. See you.”

As he walked back to his own house, he couldn’t stop smiling, mind whirling with every little moment he’d just spent with her.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Between superhero patrols and calculus tutoring, Y/N and Dave had been seeing a lot of each other lately. They texted all the time, and Dave had been noticing her texts popping up at any time of day, which made him grin even at the simplest “Hey, what’s up?”

Saturday afternoon brought him a new message:

Y/N: Dave, pleeease save me! I’m so boooored. :( Dave: I’m about to walk to Atomic Comics to meet Todd and Marty. Wanna hang out with us? Y/N: YES, THANK YOU. Dave: I’ll stop by your place on my way.

He set off for her place, nerves jangling. As she joined him on the walk to the store, he tried to keep his cool but couldn’t stop himself from blurting, “Just a heads-up: my friends are, uh… really weird.”

She laughed, nudging his arm. “They can’t be that weird. I bet they’re just like you—maybe a little shy.”

Dave only chuckled in response, inwardly wincing at how little she knew about Todd and Marty’s lack of social skills.

They slid into a booth across from Todd and Marty, who were already seated. As Dave introduced Y/N, both of his friends seemed frozen, eyes wide, staring at her like she was from another planet. Five silent, awkward seconds passed.

“Guys… Really?” Dave whispered, giving them each a nudge under the table. “Don’t act so… I don’t know… weird?”

That seemed to do the trick. Todd cleared his throat and muttered a barely audible “Hi,” while Marty attempted a smile and a wave.

Y/N just smiled back, unphased, and Dave jumped into conversation about a new Spider-Man x Wolverine crossover he’d been obsessed with lately. As he pulled the comic out from his bag, Y/N scooted closer to look, her shoulder pressing against his. Dave tried to keep his focus on the comic’s cover, but it was hard with her so close, leaning over to see. He felt his face flush and prayed that Todd and Marty wouldn’t say anything embarrassing.

From across the table, they exchanged looks, clearly unable to believe that Dave was sitting that close to Y/N.

Eventually, Dave got up to go to the bathroom, leaving Y/N with his friends. She looked across at them with a smile. “So, guys, I’ve gotta know—what are the best comics here? I’m kind of new to this whole thing.”

The question seemed to break through the last of Todd and Marty’s reservations. Todd’s eyes lit up, and he immediately launched into an enthusiastic explanation of his favorite series, going so far as to pull up comic covers on his phone and explaining key plot points. Marty joined in, pointing out his personal favorites on a nearby rack.

Y/N listened, nodding along and laughing at their side tangents. It didn’t take long before she was laughing along with them, chiming in with questions and responding to their recommendations with genuine curiosity. Soon, Todd was leading her around the store, showing her the most underrated comics and detailing why certain storylines were, in his words, “the best character arcs of all time.”

By the time Dave came back, Y/N was chatting with them comfortably. “So, okay, this whole series is a must-read,” she was saying, holding up a copy of Saga that Todd had practically forced into her hands. “Where should I start?”

“Volume one!” Marty and Todd chorused. Todd gave her a detailed breakdown of how she could get up to speed in no time.

Dave sat down, unable to keep from smiling at the way she fit in with his friends. “Making converts?” he asked with a grin.

“Oh, totally,” Y/N said, scooting back beside him. “I’m basically a comic expert now.”

The four of them ended up lingering at the shop, laughing over various comics and obscure references, until the store started dimming its lights to close up. When they got up to leave, Dave offered to walk Y/N home.

They talked the whole way, chatting about the evening, laughing about Todd and Marty’s passion for comics, and revisiting her new reading list.

“Your friends are funny,” Y/N said as they stopped at her door, smiling.

He laughed. “Funny? That’s new. Usually, they’re terrible.”

She laughed too, eyes twinkling, and then, without warning, she leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, Dave.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his cheeks tingling where her lips had brushed his skin. “Uh—goodnight,” he managed weakly as she turned and slipped inside.

Walking home, his head was all fuzzy. As excited as he was about how close he and Y/N were getting, there was that nagging thought in the back of his mind—could he really get close to her without ever telling her he was Kick-Ass? It made him wonder if he could ever have a real chance with her if he kept hiding half his life.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

After school one day, Dave was hanging out at Atomic Comics, flipping through the latest issues with Todd and Marty, when he heard the bell above the door chime. He glanced up from his comic just in time to see Y/N practically sprinting into the store, her face lit up with excitement. She beelined straight toward him, holding up a crinkled piece of paper with a big red “92%” circled at the top.

“Dave!” she almost shouted, her grin so wide it looked like her face might split in two. “Look! 92! I got a 92 on my calculus test!” Before he knew what was happening, she threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly and burying her face in his neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said, her words muffled but still bursting with enthusiasm.

Dave’s brain went into overdrive, his senses zeroing in on the warmth of her arms around him, her hair brushing against his cheek, and the soft, citrusy scent of her perfume. Somehow, he managed to wrap his arms around her, gently squeezing her back.

“I knew you could do it,” he murmured, grinning ear to ear.

When she finally pulled back, her hands still rested on his shoulders. She looked up at him, eyes gleaming with excitement. “We have to celebrate. You should come over tonight. We’ll watch a movie, and I’ll buy a ton of your favorite snacks. What do you say?”

Dave’s heart pounded so loudly he was sure she could hear it. “Uh… yeah, sure,” he stammered, doing his best to sound casual, though the idea of spending an evening alone with her made him feel anything but.

“Great!” she said, her smile widening even more—if that was possible. With a final wave, she turned and headed for the door, throwing a quick “Bye, guys!” over her shoulder to Todd and Marty.

The door closed, and the three of them watched her leave, stunned into silence. Todd was the first to break it. He nudged Dave with his elbow, eyes wide. “Dude,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. “This is it. Tonight’s the perfect night to tell her how you feel. You’ve gotta do it!”

Marty nodded enthusiastically, his expression a mix of excitement and impatience. “Seriously, man. She invited you over for a movie night. She wants to celebrate with you. You can’t just ignore that!”

Dave looked between his two friends, his excitement battling with nerves. “You think so?” he asked, even though he could barely contain his own excitement at the thought.

Todd clapped him on the back. “You’ve got this, Dave. Just be honest with her.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Dave thought he might actually pass out.

As soon as you opened the door, he had to fight to keep his mouth from hanging open—you were in the cutest pair of fluffy pajama pants and a tiny tank top that showed just a hint of midriff. It was unfair, honestly. Before he could even fully process it, you grabbed his arm, and with a warm smile, pulled him inside, leading him up the stairs and straight to your room.

Walking into your room felt like stepping into another world, one that was undeniably and entirely you. Posters lined the walls, your desk was organized in a way that was both chaotic and charming, and there were little knick-knacks on your shelves that seemed to tell a story all their own. It was exactly how he’d imagined it… Not that he imagined your room or anything like that. That would be weird, right? Totally weird. Totally not him. He definitely did not imagine your room all the time… though, looking around, it was kind of uncanny how close he’d gotten it.

"Go ahead and get comfortable! I’m just grabbing more candy from the kitchen," you said, heading out the door.

He nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed, still taking everything in. Then he noticed a plush bunny sitting at the top of your pillow. Grinning, he reached over and picked it up, giving it a little squeeze, admiring its big, floppy ears. He was caught red-handed when you came back, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you laughing at him.

“Oh my god, you’re one of those people, huh?” he teased, holding the bunny up like a prized possession.

You put a hand on your hip, rolling your eyes playfully. “Yes, I am, and it’s cute, okay?”

He chuckled, flipping the bunny around in his hands. “What’s his name?”

You groaned, blushing. “Come on, Dave… do you really need to know?”

He put on a serious face, hugging the bunny dramatically. “Absolutely. His name is—”

You bit back a smile, rolling your eyes. “… it’s Mr. Floppy.”

He choked back a laugh. “Mr. Floppy? Well Mr. Floppy is my new best friend now.”

“Oh no, how will I ever survive,” you replied in a mockingly dramatic tone, unable to hide your grin. Within seconds, the two of you broke out in a fit of laughter, your voices mingling in a way that made your room feel like the safest, happiest place in the world.

Settling down, you handed him a bowl of candy and flopped onto the bed next to him, pulling up the movie. As it started, you shifted closer, so much so that Dave could feel the warmth radiating from you. By the time you were twenty minutes in, you were nestled against his chest, his arm resting around you almost instinctively. He didn’t dare move—this was the closest he’d ever been to you, and he could feel his heart racing, every nerve on edge. Every thirty seconds or so, he couldn’t help himself; he’d glance down at you, admiring the way the glow from the screen softened your features.

After a while, you must’ve felt him looking at you because you shifted, turning to meet his eyes. The two of you were so close that your breaths mingled, and the tension between you was thick enough to cut. In a quiet voice, you tilted your head and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Dave swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Nothing, it’s just… you look really pretty.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you offered a shy smile, thanking him softly as you continued to gaze into his eyes. The movie was entirely forgotten now.

“Y/N, I… uh, I really like you,” he stammered, finally gathering the courage to say what he’d been holding back. “You’re so smart, beautiful, and… way out of my league, but I can’t help it. I really want to be more than friends.”

For a moment, you simply looked at him, and his heart felt like it might stop entirely. “Say something… please,” he whispered, his voice laced with nervousness.

Finally, a smile spread across your face, and with a glance down at his lips, you leaned in, closing the gap with a gentle, sweet kiss. When you pulled back, you whispered, “I like you too, Dave.”

A grin broke across his face, and he could hardly believe this was happening. “Can I… can I kiss you again?” he asked, breathless, as if he were asking permission for a once-in-a-lifetime privilege.

Laughing softly, you replied, “You can kiss me whenever you want.”

This time, he kissed you deeper, pouring every ounce of his feelings into it, savoring every second. The kiss grew more passionate, and his heart pounded in his chest, but when you finally pulled back, he couldn’t help but let out a soft, disappointed whine, not wanting the moment to end.

You bit your lip, an amused smile on your face. “I actually have something to confess, too,” you said, your voice softer now.

Sitting up straighter, he looked at you with wide eyes, a slight furrow in his brow. “What is it?”

You took a breath, meeting his gaze. “I know you’re Kick-Ass.”

For a moment, he froze, his mind scrambling. “W-What?” he spluttered, immediately trying to backtrack. “I—Kick-Ass? No, that’s—that’s not me! I’m, uh—”

You held up a hand to stop him, laughing softly. “And I know you know that I’m Y/S/N.”

His eyes widened even further, and he seemed completely thrown off. “But… you always talked about ‘Dave’ to me when we were out, you know, fighting crime together. I thought… I thought I had you fooled.”

You shrugged, grinning. “I just liked teasing you. It was… kind of adorable to see you get all flustered.”

“Oh,” he breathed, the realization dawning on him as his face flushed a deep red. He couldn’t help but laugh, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed. The two of you settled back into the bed, and a grin spread across his face as a new thought occurred to him.

“Just think about it, though—we’d make the most amazing superhero couple ever,” he said, his voice bubbling with excitement at the idea. “Kick-Ass and Y/S/N, taking down bad guys together? We’d be unstoppable!”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow as you poked his chest. “Not so fast, Kick-Ass. Before we start planning our crime-fighting future, you’ve gotta take me on a proper date first.”

He grinned sheepishly, nodding as he took your hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Right. Totally. Consider it done.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ and that concludes this story! thank you all for reading <3 I’ll probably go back through this another time and edit it a bit. If anyone has any Kick-ass fic recs or ideas please send them my way pretty please :)))

[puffin-smoke]

I like to think that at one point during their hunt for Quinn, Darlin nearly died. And I mean properly nearly died; they'd had brushes with death before, but they thought this would be the one to stick.

I can sort of imagine them just lying on their couch after dragging themself back to their apartment, the only thing they had the energy to do. They stared at the ceiling, as dark spots began to cloud their vision. Their hand gripped their side, trying to keep the blood in, but eventually just. Gave up. Went slack and fell away, letting the blood stain their shirt and the smell of iron fill the air. They liked that shirt. It'd be a hassle to clean, they thought vaguely. Maybe it was for the best. They were tired.

So they let their eyes drift shut, and let the pounding in their skull consume everything. It all hurt. It was all exhausting. They just wanted it to be over, and if over meant dying of blood loss alone in their shitty apartment, then they were fine with that.

"Hey. Hey~ hey! What are you doing?"

A small voice piped up behind them, gratingly chipper. Darlin grumbled. "Tryin' to sleep."

"But you've gotta go get healed! Come on!" The voice tried to order them, speaking with more bravado and authority they really had. Something nudged at Darlin's ribs, like a shoe poking a corpse to check for any signs of life. In response they just shifted over, burying their face in their couch cushions. Smearing blood across already stained fabric. It didn't matter, that sofa had seen worse anyway.

The pipsqueak sighed, dejected and annoyed. "Quit being stupid. Cmon, Gabe'll be pissed if you let it get any worse."

At that Darlin just laughed into the cushion. It hurt, so they stopped. "Gabe's fucking dead. He won't care. Nobody will."

"Oh." That was all for a couple seconds. For a few blissful seconds it was just the hum of their faulty lights and their heartbeat ringing in their ears.

"I miss him." The kid said into the silence of Darlin's apartment.

"Mhm." They grunted vaguely.

"Remember when he taught you healing?"

"Mhm."

They laughed, giggled, like this were all some joke that would come out in the wash. "You were pretty crappy at it."

Sitting with Gabe in the kitchen of the Shaw's house after they'd scraped their knee. Able to pull at the magic they needed in order to heal it, but useless when it came to focusing it, using it. They missed him. "Mhm."

Silence again. And then a small hand wrapped around their wrist. It tugged at them. They sagged and gave a good impression of a ragdoll, a dead fish. They didn't move and inch.

"C'mon. You can't just lie there."

They mumbled under their breath, just wanting the voice to go away. "Yes, I can."

The voice cried out indignantly, two hands now locking around their wrist and yanking with renewed force. Darlin's face lifted a few inches away from the couch, before crashing back down.

"Please get up."

Darlin's hand flew up and batted them away blindly, swatting at them like a fly, meeting only air. "Lemme alone, I'm tired."

"Come on, aren't you supposed to be the Tank? Nothing stops you!"

Darlin laughed, bitter. They sounded like a superhero. They'd always wanted to be Superman. Or like him atleast. God they'd been fucking stupid. "No. Not right now- not fucking ever. I'm not Tank."

Another desperate plea, raspy, and shrill as any of the others. "Please just get up."

Nothing. They forced their eyes shut even tighter.

Another grab and a pull. It felt so far away. "Cmon! You need to move!"

Would they ever shut up? "Please don't make me." Darlin didn't mean to, didn't want to reduce their last moments to begging like a petulant child, but their voice sounded so broken. Hoarse like an old mans, phlegmy from all the crying, scratchy from all the screaming. A lifetimes worth of screaming. Crying never came quite as easy. They repeated themself, their eyes burning. "Please just let it be over. I'm so fucking tired- please."

"No. No! You can't just let yourself di- do that!"

"But-"

"We need to see the Pack again! Isn't that the whole point of this?"

... they were right. This would all be pointless if they let themself go. They'd probably be sad. Asher would be sad. And Asher got so annoying when he was sad, with those stupid sad puppy eyes he had down to an art. Wouldn't stop until someone fixed the problem. It'd be pretty hard to fix it if they were dead.

Goddamn it. They screamed into the cushion, putting every last ounce of their frustration and rage into the deep, guttural noise until the was nothing less but a misery. A deep exhaustion and a hopelessness rooted so firmly in their core it might as well have been their since birth. But they placed an open palm onto the fabric beneath them. And, even though it felt like wading through quick sand, they opened their eyes and pushed themself upwards. They fell backwards, collapsing limply onto the back of the couch. The world was so grey.

"There ya go!" The small voice once again chipped in, and Darkin finally got to see it's owner.

It was them. A smaller version of them, with a gap-toothed smile and scruffy hair and dirt on their face. Ripped jeans and a shirt one size too big for them. A brightly coloured backpack was slung over their shoulders, a small pokeball keychain attached to one of the zips. The little wolf grinned at them, and the light of it hurt their eyes.

The little wolf hopped up to them, smiling like they'd just won an argument, and jumped onto the couch, perching on the edge. "Was that so difficult?"

Darlin rolled their eyes. Their hands, limp at their sides, began to twitch and eventually move to clasp the wound. It hurt. All of it hurt. How were they supposed to fix everything? They couldn't keep it all together, they weren't as good a healer as Marie or Gabe, they were-

The pup leaned forward and grabbed one of their hands, turning it over and opening it. They glanced towards Darlin and smiled, their voice for once soft, calm.

"You remember what he said?"

Darlin wanted to shrug but couldn't. It didn't matter anyway, the kid wasn't real anyway. They didn't care. "... that it's like riding a bike?"

The wolf snorted. "Nope, that'd be stupid. It's like knitting! You gotta take it one stitch at a time, slow and steady and allat."

Darlin breathed, and scrunched up their eyes, trying to pull upon the magic in their core like a spool of thread. It felt so far away, so heavy, it was like wading through molasses. It wasn't worth the effort, but they did it anyway. A pink glow settled around their hands, like clouds above mountain peaks.

"There you go! Guess we must've learnt a few things since then."

Darlin just nodded. They pulled a thread from the smoke, dark and thick, and moved it towards the wound. Watched it settle and the flesh begin to knit itself together again.

"Pretty-!" The wolf cooed, thumb stroking Darlin's outstretched palm. They grinned again, but it seemed forced, cautious. No sudden movements. "Thank you."

Darlin grunted and pulled another thread. And then another. And as the pain gradually ebbed and was replaced with the lethargy that healing magic brought, they felt no different. No better, no worse, just tired. But maybe the way the kid smiled at them would feel good, a while down the road. It might be nice to give them a reason to look forward to growing up. Maybe.

Probably just the blood loss talking.

[aventurineswife]

(For some reason I always imagine aven having twin boy and girl)

Can I request aven's baby twins playing with his boss form? Like they somehow saw it and begged their papa to play with his other form 😤😤

Through Their Eyes, a Hero

Summary: Aventurine takes a rare break from his gambles when his children burst into his study, full of energy and excitement. They show him a holographic image of his dramatic, superhero-like attire, and after some playful persuasion, he indulges them for a fun game of theatrics and mock battles. Aventurine finds solace in the joy of his children, allowing himself to embrace a rare vulnerability amidst the chaos of his life.

Tags: Aventurine and his twin kids, Fatherhood, Playful, Vulnerability, Family Moments, Humor, Tenderness, Heartwarming, Parenthood.

Warnings: Mild language (teasing), lighthearted humor.

Aventurine sighed deeply, reclining in the high-backed chair of his study. Warm light spilled over the cluttered table, highlighting scattered papers—contracts, market reports, and etc. Another day of high-stakes gambles, moving lives and fortunes like pieces on a game board. For now, the "Aventurine of Stratagems" had come out ahead, but his victories felt as fleeting as the silence that enveloped him.

Then came the sound—a cascade of giggles ringing down the hallway, light and infectious. Aventurine froze, his pen pausing mid-stroke. The patter of small feet grew louder until, with all the subtlety of a crashing chandelier, the door burst open.

“Papa!” cried two golden-haired whirlwinds, their energy charging into the room.

The first child darted toward him, eyes sparkling with mischief, while the other lagged behind, clutching an object Aventurine couldn’t immediately identify—a holographic image projector.

“Papa, look!” the first one chirped, scaling his lap like a conqueror before Aventurine could protest.

The second child held up the projector triumphantly, their grin nearly splitting their face. With a flick of small fingers, the device hummed to life, projecting an image above the desk. Aventurine’s (boss fight) attire shimmered into view—a dramatic ensemble of black, cyan, and gold, complete with a fur-lined coat and luminous accents. The children’s awed expressions mirrored their admiration.

“You look like a superhero!” the second exclaimed, their pupils wide with excitement.

Aventurine chuckled, his usual enigmatic smile softening into genuine affection. “A superhero, you say? I thought I was more of a villain.” he teased, ruffling the first child’s hair.

“No way!” the first retorted, tugging at his sleeve. “You’re way cooler than a villain. Papa, can you wear it? Pleeease?” They clasped their hands in a dramatic plea, their determination impossible to ignore.

Aventurine leaned back, his fingers brushing absently over the choker around his neck. He let out an exaggerated sigh. “You think the grand Aventurine dons such an outfit on a whim? Surely, you jest.”

“Yes!” they chorused in unison, their resolve unshaken.

The first crossed their arms, pouting for effect. The second joined in, their bottom lip quivering as if preparing for an epic tantrum. Aventurine stared at the two tiny tyrants, their golden hair and stubborn gazes reminding him of someone long gone. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk.

“Very well,” he relented, standing with a flourish. “But know this—once I assume the attire of power, there is no going back.”

The children cheered, bouncing on their heels as Aventurine strode toward a sleek wardrobe tucked against the far wall. His movements were deliberate, each step exuding the flair of a gambler about to deal the winning hand. He opened the wardrobe, and disappeared inside.

“Behold!” he declared, his voice a commanding timbre as he spread his arms. The tails of his coat flared behind him like wings. “The Aventurine of Stratagems, master of fate, fortune, and… playtime!”

The children erupted into cheers, clapping and squealing with delight.

“You’re a superhero, Papa!” the youngest exclaimed, their admiration radiating like sunlight.

Aventurine swept into a low bow, his hat dipping dramatically before he straightened with a sly grin. “Then I hope you’re prepared, my little challengers. No hero—or villain—lets their opponents win without a fight.”

Laughter filled the room as Aventurine engaged them in an impromptu game of theatrics, mock battles, and exaggerated tricks. His dramatic lunges and calculated “defeats” sent the children into fits of giggles. For a brief, stolen moment, the weight of his world lifted, replaced by the pure joy of fatherhood.

As their game wound down, Aventurine reclined once more, pulling his children into his arms. Their giggles softened into sleepy murmurs, and as he cradled them, he allowed himself a rare moment of vulnerability. Perhaps, in the fleeting happiness of these whirlwinds, he could find something he’d thought lost forever—a reason to keep gambling with life.

For them, Aventurine thought with a quiet smile. Always for them.

[midnightwritingsessions]

Building memories

Summary: You and Louis babysit lucky, his nephew, he enjoys his time with both of you so much he doesn’t want to go back to his parents. Fem reader! Please send requests for anyone off my character guide!!

Requested @maximeseveridecasey

Masterlist

-

was a bright Saturday morning, and you and Louis were already up, prepping for the day ahead with Lucky. You both had been looking forward to this all week, Louis’s little nephew was a bundle of energy, and he always seemed to bring out the best in Louis, lighting him up in a way that nothing else quite could. As you arranged a small spread of snacks and toys in the living room, Louis emerged from the kitchen with a grin, balancing a juice box on his head. "So” he said, placing the juice box among the snacks. "You ready for a full day of madness?" You laughed, tossing a pillow onto the floor to create a makeshift fort base. “You mean, am I ready to keep up with the two of you? Yes, I think I can handle it”.

Louis’s grin softened as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Lucky’s in for the best day of his life, thanks to you”. Not long after, the doorbell rang, and a few moments later, Lucky bounded inside with a giggle and wide eyes. He rushed over, giving Louis a hug and then turning to you with the same boundless enthusiasm. “Hi, Auntie!” he chirped, and you scooped him up, feeling your heart melt a little as he wrapped his small arms around your neck. “Ready for some fun, Lucky?” you asked, and he nodded so hard his hair flopped into his eyes. "Alright, let’s get this day started!” Louis exclaimed, lifting Lucky up onto his shoulders. The two of them shared a laugh as Louis jogged down the hall to the living room, and you followed, trying not to laugh at their antics.

The first stop was the park, where you watched Lucky and Louis race around, pushing each other on the swings and giggling the whole time. Louis was like a big kid himself, running through the playground with Lucky, holding his hand on the monkey bars, and challenging him to a race to the top of the jungle gym. When it was snack time, you all settled on a blanket under a big tree. Lucky nestled between the two of you, munching on crackers as he gazed up with admiration at Louis. “You’re so fast, Uncle Louis!” Lucky said, his voice filled with awe. “Almost as fast as a superhero!” Louis chuckled, ruffling his nephew’s hair. “Well, you’ve got some speed on you, too. I reckon you could outrun me someday”. He shared a smile with you, eyes warm and filled with a quiet joy.

After the park, you went home to make cookies. You and Lucky took charge of mixing the ingredients while Louis took charge of making a mess. Flour ended up on every surface, and Lucky dissolved into laughter when Louis wiped a streak of it across his nose. “Uncle Louis, you’re silly!” he giggled, looking up at him with total adoration. “Only the best for you, mate”Louis replied, grinning. The cookies baked while you all danced around the kitchen to old songs on the radio, Lucky attempting to follow along with Louis’s goofy dance moves.

When the cookies were ready, the three of you plopped down on the couch, snuggled up with a plate of warm, gooey cookies in front of you, and a kid’s movie on the TV. Lucky leaned his head on your shoulder, already looking a little sleepy as he nibbled on his cookie. Louis wrapped an arm around the both of you, giving you a gentle squeeze. “You’re the best” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours, full of love and contentment.

As evening set in, it was finally time for Lucky to head home, much to his dismay. Louis’s sister, Lottie, arrived to pick him up, but when she opened her arms for him, Lucky shook his head, looking back at you and Louis with big, pleading eyes. “No, I wanna stay with Uncle Louis and Auntie” he said, his lip jutting out in a small pout. You exchanged a look with Louis, who seemed to be suppressing a grin. He knelt down in front of Lucky, brushing his hair back gently. “But you’ll be back soon, yeah?” he said softly. “And we’ve gotta save some fun for next time”. Lucky’s frown deepened. “Can’t I just stay forever?” You felt your heart swell, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’ll always have a place with us, Lucky” you said, giving him a gentle hug. “But your mum and dad would miss you too much if you stayed here forever”.He sighed, clearly not thrilled with the idea but nodding. Louis gave him a high five and promised to make plans for another fun day soon, and finally, after one more hug, Lucky followed his mum out the door.

As the door closed, Louis wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Guess we make a pretty good team, don’t we?” he murmured, his voice warm and soft. You leaned back against him, feeling completely at home in his embrace. “Yeah, we do” you whispered back, lacing your fingers with his. The house felt a little quieter without Lucky’s laughter, but the love you and Louis shared filled the space with a steady, comforting warmth. Louis pressed a kiss to your cheek, a soft smile on his face. “You know,” he said quietly, “one day we’ll have our own little ones running around. And I think that’s going to be the best adventure of all”.

[syrma-sensei]

hey! do you take soldier boy requests? if you do, then i have a little prompt! i can totally see this dynamic with ben x reader. ignore this if you like, i'm just curious because i love your writing !!

Heya 👋🏻

Of course I do! I love writing my man 🤭❤️

Hehehe, I can totally see it too. I almost wrote it in Home, but you know, couldn't let that happen cuz reader was pregnant and all...

Thank you so much, lovey 💕 You're in for a treat!

→ Smokey Snuggles, Zero Struggles.

gif credit.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!reader.

Rating: Fluff.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Pillow talk, smoking, implied smut, soft Ben, flufffff, antiquated mentality...

Setting: Prequel to Home one-shot; can be read as a standalone tho.

Ben swept his large arm over your body to pull you closer to his chest, his rough yet gentle hand resting on your thigh. Your body curled up to his as your chest heaved with soft pants, up and down, while his seed seeped out of your opening.

“Mmm, did I tucker you out, dollface?” He teased with that deep voice of his; you could hear the smirk in his tone.

“Not at all...” You shifted your head up, chin resting on his chest and eyes gazing up at him with playful intransigence.

He glanced down at you, relishing in the way your pretty fingers ran on his chest. “Good, ‘cause I was just getting started.”

Your lips let out a sheepish giggle concurring with a cute red smear across your cheeks.

It was still all new to you; the sex, the extravagant self-indulgence, the supe business, Vought, and him.

You'd met Ben in one of his educational tours throughout the country. He'd been on an awareness campaign spree, visiting local schools to sow the American values into the hearts of the young. Needless to say, the children were thrilled having the first superhero in their classrooms, sitting and reading for them — making them laugh even. The bastard had an alluring charm; everyone had been in love with him, and you were none the better. His damn swagger had a certain lure, it didn't take long to coax you out of the skirts of modesty into the lusciousness of his arms.

You were a new elementary teacher, a young woman brought up in a conservative household; it was inevitable to have a blatant shock when you entered Ben's life as his new partner, and intended to be wife-to-be — he didn't propose or promise you anything yet, mind you. Yet, him having family dinners with your parents, you moving in with him, him having you at his arm wherever he went; movie premieres, filmmaking, photoshoots, interviews, and more, he literally had you stuck to his hip. That had to mean something, right?

You tried to shrug off the thoughts that plagued your mind of the possibility of Ben dumping you. You shiver at the thought. The truth was, you were head over heels with him, and you honestly didn't know where you'd put yourself if he left you.

You felt him flex the arm he had on your thigh up behind his head, then you heard the flick of his lighter and soon the smell of burnt tobacco followed.

You glanced up at him. Ben's green eyes were staring ahead, the look on his face told you he was deep in ponderation. He absently inhaled from his cuban cigar.

The tip of your forefinger rubs circles on the centre of his chest, stroking the fuzzy wisps on his skin.

You knew he was giving you a break after he had been balls-deep inside of you for a couple of rounds. Ben was nearly insatiable when it came to you, but he always tried to keep himself in check that your human stamina could never match his, regardless of how many times you told him not to hold back.

“No,” He had said, caressing your cheek with the back of his knuckles, “I could break you.”

You smiled with a blush at the memory, snuggling closer to him and letting your ear savour the strong beat of his heart. You really wanted the only one who'd own that heart, you really did.

When you glanced up at him again, he wasn't miles away like he was minutes ago. He was smiling down at you, before he leant in and pressed a light kiss on the crown of your head.

Your cheeks flourished red at the unbridled affection; he seldom showed such, and it never ceased to take you by surprise when he did so. Those moments of sweet dalliances assured you sometimes that you weren't just a fleeting fling.

You wanted to nuzzle closer to him but he shifted a bit to sit up, leaning his back to the headboard. You sit up as well, letting the sheets fall off your naked bosom. You weren't that shy girl anymore.

“Want a drag?” He offered you his cigar.

You smiled, “I-I could try…” You took the cigar as he turned to his bedside table and opened the drawer.

You shrugged and placed the stub between your lips and took a long drag. Wrong move. Because the moment the smouldering smoke hit the back of your throat, your eyes burnt up with tears and you started to cough.

Ben turned to you again, a rich laugh rumbling in his chest, he took the cigar from your hand and placed it in the ashtray, and patted your back gently. “Easy…”

“Holy—!” You croaked, hastily reaching for the glass of water on your bedside table, drinking it. “How do you smoke that shit?” You coughed again.

His laugh diluted into a deep chuckle, “It’s not so bad, you're the lightweight.”

“Oh, believe me, I couldn't handle you if I were one.” You let out a smooth giggle that soon turned into a chortle.

Ben chuckled again, before he wiped the drizzle of water away from the corner of your lips, and the tears away from your eyes.

You grinned at him, kissing his thumb.

“Marry me.” He said, making your eyes go wide. You blinked for a moment.

He read the confusion on your face and acted swiftly by holding a small box of velvet out for you, gently opening it. There was an elegant ring in the box, golden and meticulously-polished, encrusted with a glamorous diamond in its centre.

You opened your mouth then you closed it again; too stunned to find the right words to say.

“I-I don't know what to say.” You finally spoke, voice hushed both by the surprise and the whiff of the cigar from before.

“Say yes.” He grinned, plucking the ring from the box, twirling it deftly between his thumb and forefinger.

Your eyes teared up and you surprised him with a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He seemed to be taken aback by your reaction, but soon enough, he hugged you back, kissing your temple gently.

You found heavenly comfort in his open affections for you, relishing in the silent but blatant fact that they were only yours.

You nuzzled closer to his chest, burying your face in his neck, softly smooching his skin.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. Of course, he was teasing you. Typical Ben.

You pulled away, gushing, “Yes!” You sniffled cutely, “God, yes.”

Ben slipped his late mother's wedding ring into your hand before he leant in and kissed your knuckles.

“I love you…” He whispered in your ear, melting your heart with the sincerity of his words.

“I love you too.” You whispered back, “More than anything.”

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze , @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin, @demodemo909

@mystic-mara, @jqtaro, @pepsicolacoochie...