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imawreck · 5 months ago

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Lightsabers

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character, Platonic!Thor x Original Character

Summary: Max returns from a brutal mission and spends the day recovering with her favorite Avengers.

Warnings: Mild starvation, injuries

Word Count: 4,393

Bucky-

The tower had gone quiet ever since Max and I had returned from that mission. I mean silence in the sense that there were less team meetings, less social gatherings, and no joint training sessions. The air was practically electric whenever she was mentioned, like they all thought either of us would snap at the drop of a hat. I hadn't seen her since the training match. I had been angry about everything, and I didn't mean to take it out on her. She was just there. I had so many mixed emotions about that night, mainly betrayal. I was bitter and apparently that made me violent.

We had been avoiding each other, that much was obvious. So, it caught me off guard when she had stumbled away from my door this morning after seeing Natasha and I. Natasha had come to the floor to find Steve who happened to be elsewhere probably doing paperwork. The two of us had made up after the whole incident but he had gotten significantly busier with mission work and hunting down Hydra leads. When Natasha had come knocking, I knew that she was looking for him, so I had told her he wasn't on the floor. I let her inside because she seemed upset, thought maybe I could help her out in Steve's place since her and I were on decent terms.

I was very wrong. Natasha was emotional, more than I had ever seen her. She was a great spy, one who ruled over herself well and held her composure perfectly. Most of all, she was angry. The kind of angry that makes people do stupid things.

I had tried to console her some, offering her a seat on the only chair in the room I hadn't wrecked during a bad episode of nightmares, and asking if there was anything I could do to help her. She had gotten up and kissed me then, hard and needing. I had let her, only for a moment, while I processed what was happening. But it was enough for Max to see. I hadn't even heard her approach or realized I hadn't shut the door all the way. I had shoved Natasha away moments later as the guilt oozed into my stomach like lead.

Max and I were never official, and I felt very betrayed by recent events, but that didn't stop my feelings for her. Nor did it stop the aching feeling every time she entered my line of sight. I was drawn to her no matter what I did, it was cosmic and torturous. I had told Natasha to leave right after picking the neatly stacked clothes off the floor. She had given me a look of disappointment and hurt before she marched herself out the door. I knew she was hurting for some reason, but I couldn't- didn't want to- give her what she wanted.

The next morning, Tony had given me a mission. I was to join Steve in a scout jet to observe a reportedly active Hydra post. It was simple, observe the activity and report back. The two of us set off at dawn and flew several hours into a forest somewhere cold. Hydra always liked the cold.

We flew low enough to peer over the small group of buildings that were far too old and crumbled to be used by any sane man. Steve and I circled several times before landing a good distance away and making our way to the edge of the trees as far as we were willing to go and watched for an hour or so more.

Steve muttered beside me, "I haven't seen a single person since we got here." A pair of binoculars were secured against his face as he scanned the area for the fiftieth time.

I shook my head, "Me neither, the place is dead." There weren't even any tracks in the dirt to tell of recent visitors.

"We should head back soon and write our reports, I haven't had a decent sleep in a few days." He pulled his binoculars down, "How have you been?"

I had been dreading the question, not sure of the answer myself. "I've been better. The nightmares are back, but I'm doing alright." That was a lie, the truth was painted in purple under my eyes.

Steve only nodded as he studied my face, "Do you miss her?"

I frowned, hating the ache that followed his question. In truth, I did miss her. She was kind to me, understood me. But she had lied and hurt. Killed. I couldn't miss her. "No."

He didn't believe me, I knew it, but he allowed it to slide. "Let's pack up and head back to the tower."

He moved to put away his binoculars in the duffle bag besides us and I followed his motions as my mind wandered. We were both silent on the flight back, focusing instead on the surroundings just in case we missed any telltale signs of life. I took the controls and offered Steve an opportunity for a nap that he was in desperate need for. After that I was left alone, vulnerable to my mind once more.

I thought about the way Max had looked when I had seen her the other day, how pained her face looked seeing me kissing another girl. It was wrong, it felt wrong, for it to be anyone other than her. Her face haunted me in my dreams, cried for me in my nightmares, and followed me in my memories. I couldn't escape her no matter what I did.

But I couldn't forget what she had done. Max had killed innocent people, massacred them without a second thought when she had a choice not to. That, I couldn't forgive.

The tower came into sight on the horizon, the shimmering glass windows catching the rays of the pink sun as it sank beneath the earth. I gripped the steering wheel and descended to the landing mat as smoothly as I could. My legs ached as I rose from the seat and woke Steve who groaned at his stiff muscles too. We waited as the hatch fell open, easing our tired bodies down the ramp and onto the concrete.

A hum sounded in the distance and the two of us turned, watching as the jet-black body of a solo jet descended from the cloud cover. It landed next to ours, hitting us with the strong winds off the propellors. The engine cut and the noise crackled to a stop. Bullet holes littered both sides of the jet and the paint cracked to reveal the steel frame. It was a wonder that it made it back in one piece. The back hatch practically fell to the floor with a clang, opening the inside of the jet and allowing whoever was inside to stumble out onto the landing deck.

Blood covered them from head to toe, not an inch of them was free of red stains. Their hair clung to their forehead in sticky strands of crimson and their hand gripped their side where blood oozed from between their fingers. I couldn't make out their face, the red smears hiding their features from me. Steve and I could only watch as they began peeling the top of their suit down, examining the damage on their side before pressing their palm back to it. It was a woman, that much was obvious from the sports bra clinging to her frame.

Someone called to her from across the room and her name echoed in my head and sank to my gut like a dead weight.

"Max!" It was Thor in all his godly glory, trucking his way towards her.

Suddenly she became a little clearer, her scars catching the light of the sun as she turned towards the god. The way she held herself was different, defensive. She looked every bit as wild as she did the first day we met. Maybe a little more.

Thor had made it to her now, slinging his arm around her unharmed side and holding her weight up against him. "What happened?"

She shrugged with a wince, "Some prick agent decided to shoot a shotgun at close range."

"Why aren't you healing?" The panic in his voice was familiar to me.

She simply shook her head and gripped her side even harder, "Just don't have the energy to right now. Do me a favor and get me to the med wing, I don't know how much longer I can hold this together."

Thor rushed her away then, leaving Steve and I dumbstruck on the landing bay. I couldn't get the image of his hand around her waist out of my head, or the way she looked at him. Like she cared about him.

A hand on my shoulder had me turning my head. "Hey, you alright Buck?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm good."

Steve looked at me for a long moment. "You told me yourself she was bad news. She killed a whole town. She shouldn't even be here. I don't know why we haven't handed her over to the government yet."

I juggled Steve's words around my mind, picturing Max in a prison cell somewhere isolated. I don't think there was a place on this earth that could keep her contained, not if she wanted something. She was too strong, too smart to be contained so easily by some measly metal bars and insufficiently trained guards. No, she wouldn't be able to be kept in a cell. Not even Hydra could keep her caged without freezing the blood in her veins and stopping her heart. "They wouldn't be able to hold her without killing her."

Steve shrugged, "You're probably right."

There was an underlying meaning to his words that had my eyes snapping to his face as he studied the door where Max and Thor had disappeared behind. "You can't want her dead, she's bad and messed up, but she doesn't deserve to die because of it. It isn't her fault."

Steve turned to me and pursed his lips, "You still defend her even after what she's done."

I frowned, tugging my brows together and staring him down. I didn't have anything else to say on the topic, so I sighed, turning away from him, "I have training to do. You can come with me or not."

I left him with that as I trailed my way to the training room.

_____

Max-

Thor's arm remained wrapped around my shoulders to lift most of my weight as he hurried the both of us into the med bay, practically lifting me onto the table all on his own. The medical team immediately got to work peeling away my uniform to get a better view of all my injuries. I knew it was bad, especially my side. My concern increased the moment I realized how sluggishly my healing abilities were working, a clear sign of my lack of energy. I knew I had been skipping a couple of meals here and there because of my fleeting appetite and stress of recent weeks, but I hadn't realized just how much I was abusing my body. How weak I had truly gotten.

"Max," Thor's voice pulled my attention towards were he stood at the edge of the table, his hand gripping mine. "Tell me what happened on the mission."

A nurse shuffled between us as she worked on sticking and IV in my arm while the rest of them bustled around my body to tend to the small lacerations littering my skin. I groaned as one of them applied alcohol to the wound on my side, shooting pains outwards from the wound. "I was ambushed on the mission and things went to shit from there. I decided that it was going to be harder to get out of there than it would be to take it out, so I did just that. It was easy after I broke into their ammunition. Like baiting flies, just kept coming in." I winced once more as the nurse on the IV decided to slather some ointment over my side. The numbness that followed was greatly appreciated though.

Thor's rough hand squeezed mine as he watched the nurse's work. "How many meals have you missed to make healing this slow?"

Ah, the golden question. I gave a forced smile, "A few."

I watched the god's face fall, "Max."

"I know, I know." Another wince as finally, finally, the IV kicked in and I leaned my head to the side just enough to watch the hole in my side begin to close. "I will eat as soon as I'm out of here."

He didn't say anything else as he stood there watching the nurses work and holding onto my hand. I was honestly grateful for his presence. I was terrified when the shot had gone off, drowned in the sudden noise and pain. It was all I could do to take the agent down and drag my half alive corpse back to the jet. I had put just enough pressure on it to hold myself together to make the trip back and the last of my energy to exit the hangar of the jet. Seeing him there, rushing to my aid, was a relief I didn't know I needed.

I found his eyes again, a genuine smile forming on my lips as I did my best to squeeze his hand. "Thanks for being here."

He nodded, smiling only for a moment before he echoed the same reply, he had a few nights before. "Of course."

It took around an hour and a half for my healing to have gotten to a manageable level, the gash in my side was healed for the most part and only a scab remained while the rest of my wounds would heal in a day or so. They had fed me while I was lying on the table, as well as dripped the IV of whatever was in it into me which seemed to help too. I had walked out of the med bay all on my own with Thor right behind me.

The God of Thunder spoke up, "I think you should use the rest of today to rest and regain your energy."

I nodded, "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. I'll read or something to keep from walking around too much, maybe watch a movie all these young people are talking about." I cringed, "That whole sentence made me sound old."

Thor let out a howl of laughter behind me, easily matching my stride and bumping his shoulder with mine. "Mind if I join you? I have a few hours before I have to go to a meeting with Tony."

I nodded eagerly, "I would love that. You and I can be equally as confused together." I joined in with his laughter this time, "It'll cost you though, Thunder Boy. I want half a package of those wonderful strawberry pop tarts you stash from the team."

He gaped at me, "How did you know about those?"

I gave him a wink as we both slipped into the elevator. "Well, it's hard not to notice all the crunching and shuffling at 3 A.M. when everyone is asleep. I saw you put them on the top shelf of the cupboard above the fridge."

The blonde groaned, shaking his head. "I suppose I could spare one for such a lovely lady."

I felt the creeping blush on my neck as I shoved him out of the elevator and onto the main floor. The main living space had the largest TV and almost all of the team would be busy today, so I had deemed it safe to traverse the level. I had watched Tony work the TV before, so I simply copied his actions from memory and had us flicking through his demand options in no time.

Thor seated himself in the middle of the couch, selfishly taking up most of the space with a wide grin. He had snagged his box of pop tarts from their hiding place and began tearing open a package as I dimmed the lights. We had yet to choose a movie when the door of the elevator chimed and called our attention.

Brown hair and wide chocolate eyes met us with matching surprise before a smile broke across his face, "Hey guys! I didn't think anyone would be in the tower today. It's nice to see you guys again! I heard you got really hurt today Max, are you alright?"

Peter sped up his approach and slung his bag onto the chair to our left and hopped over the couch to stand in front of us both. I returned his smile and lifted my shirt to show off my battle wound, "Shotgun at close range. I'm on the mend though, so no worries."

His wide eyes nearly fell out of his head as he blinked at me, "That's insane! How did you live through that?"

I shrugged, "I really lucked out honestly."

Thor cleared his throat from his seat on the couch, brushing crumbs from his shirt. "Max is very strong. She took it like a true warrior and got herself home. It was fortunate that she can heal so well though, it would be a devastation to the team if we were to lose her."

I felt a lick of guilt at his words but shook it off to turn back to Peter. "We were just about to choose a movie for us to enjoy, know any good ones?"

Peter practically beamed, "I have the perfect one."

_____

"You don't have to do this, Max." Thor's voice quaked in fear as he stood between Peter and I in the living area, hands outstretched in a calming manner. "There is a better choice."

I shook my head, leveling my gaze on Peter just across the rug, fingers splayed at my side and ready to pounce. "There is no other way, only the Dark side. Join me, Peter, and we can conquer together." I grinned as I finished my statement, outstretching my palm to the teen and flashing my teeth.

Peter's face was filled with grief, but he stood tall. "No, but it isn't too late for you to change."

I simply shook my head, allowing my hair to fall over my eyes as I laughed bitterly. "Then you will die."

The two of us sprang into action, sliding our hands over the waistbands of our pants and slinging out the plastic devices I had been entranced with for the past six hours of our movie session. The bright red beam of plastic glided out of the hilt as I pressed the red button against the black handle, the 'bzzshoom' of both our sabers echoed in the room.

And the battle began.

Plastic clashed against plastic as the two of us let out a battle cry, taking to the floor and slinging out our palms. Peter flung himself backwards on the chair and parried my attack, shoving the air with his hand as I myself fell back onto the floor with a thud.

"You will never win, Peter!" I scurried to my feet, holding my lightsaber out in front of me threateningly. I made sure to waver in my step to play the part of the falling villain.

Peter couldn't help but release a laugh as Thor slapped his hands on his cheeks and gaped at us in fake horror. I snorted, dropping my saber to double over in laughter. The two boys mirrored my actions, falling against the couch and the chair as they gasped for breath and our laughter filled the room.

Peter had picked the movie for the night-- or rather several movies-- which I could now deem my favorites of all time.

Star Wars.

He had slung to his house on one of our breaks between disks and returned with the mock lightsabers to challenge me in a battle. Thor was all too excited to play Obi Wan, although his acting was not even close to on character. I had decided that Peter was one of my new favorite people of all time while he grinned at me as we all caught our breath.

Just as we thought it was over, the elevator door chimed, and the lights flickered. All of our heads snapped to the small hallway shrouded in darkness. A clear hissing emanated from the end in soft slow intervals almost like...

A figure appeared at the end of the hall and stood tall, arms out to their side. Suddenly, a blinding red light slid out of his hand and two glowing eyes peered at us. The hissing continued as they finally stepped out of the darkness, and it took everything in me not to fall into another fit of laugher.

"Peter," the voice of none other than Tony mumbled from behind his Ironman mask, "I am your father."

The common room erupted in shouts of joy as we all cackled at the bed sheet cocooning his head like a cape and his own red saber at his side. The top of the mask slid up to reveal Tony's joyful face as he joined us.

I don't think I had been this happy in a long, long time. I took the time to admire all of their faces, memorizing the smiles they shared and the light in their eyes. They were my family whether they knew it or not, even Peter had worked his way into my heart. I wanted to burn this moment into my memory for the rest of my life, never to forget the light in this world as I battled all the bad just like those in the ridiculous movies.

Tony shook his head as the ruckus died down, "You kids need to head to bed soon. It is way past your bedtime." He sent a look to Peter specifically and I snickered only to receive a pillow to the face from him.

I pouted, "Rude little bug."

Peter rolled his eyes but we both couldn't help the smiles that followed. "Goodnight you guys, I'll see you later."

"Night, Pete."

"Goodnight, young Peter!"

I gave him a little wave as he slung his bag over his shoulder, "Bye, Parker."

Tony waited until he left to turn to the God of Thunder laid out on the couch. "You missed our meeting." A trimmed brow rose in accusation as the god shrunk away sheepishly.

"I got caught up with young Peter and lovely Max, I am sorry Tony." Thor stood from the couch, "Let's talk now."

Tony nodded towards the elevator but stayed behind as Thor left the room and the elevator chimed behind him. "It's good to see you happy again, Snowflake."

I gave him a soft smile, setting the lightsaber down on the sofa. "I like Peter, he's funny and very smart. Thor keeps me company and makes the tower a little less lonely for me too."

He nodded, still smiling. "I'm glad you're doing better." Tony took a few steps and slung his arms around my shoulders and scrubbed his knuckles into my hair. "You changed your hair and started wearing all these different clothes, I hardly recognized you. Then you went on that mission and came back with a piece of you missing! You better take better care of yourself, kid."

I shoved gently at his arms and laughed, "I will! I'm sorry!"

He released me with a pat on my shoulder, "Come visit the labs sometime so we can catch up, okay? I miss having someone intellectual to talk to."

I simply shook my head as he swaggered towards the elevator, "Whatever you say, Tony. I'll make time for a visit soon."

"Good," he tilted his head over his shoulder, "I'll see you soon then."

I felt light, elated with the events of the day even after the mission. Today had been a grand day.

I shut the TV off and returned the remote where I had found it, removing the movie and humming as I moved around the room to clean up the mess we had made. I collected Thor's pop tart wrappers and set the lightsaber Peter had left on the table for him to find the next time he was here and headed towards the kitchen to throw out the trash. Still humming, I dumped the wrappers in the trash and turned back around with the intent to leave only to halt as the distinct outline of a certain soldier stood in the middle of the living room with his eyes locked on my own.

Just like that, my happiness was sucked out of my lungs.

The two of us just stared at each other for a while, taking in each other's appearance. He was in a white T-shirt and sweats, disheveled hair and wide blue eyes.

I didn't look much better as I stood stock still in my cropped tank top and leggings, mouth agape. I hadn't even heard the elevator.

He seemed to break whatever trance held us both with a loud swallow, averting his eyes to the ground and scratching the back of his head with his metal arm. I curled my fingers only to release them with a slow breath. Neither of us spoke, simply standing there in suffocating silence.

I made a move to leave, stepping widely to the side before shifting myself around him in just a few steps. He didn't move as I shuffled past, only shivered as the air brushed his arm. I had nearly made it to the elevator door before his voice caught my ears. "Are you alright? From the mission, I mean."

I felt my shoulders tense and the dull ache in my side rear itself in the front of my mind. I let a breath filter through my nose once more to calm the pounding of my heart. "Yeah. Just fine."

I didn't give him another opportunity to talk as I stabbed the up button on the elevator with my fingernail. I stepped through the steel doors and let the metal box carry me back to the safety of my room before I allowed the nerves to shake my body and my breath to rattle unevenly in my lungs.

Tags<3

@hzdhrtss / @calwitch / @blackbirdwitch22 / @cjand10 / @imdoingathingmom

#angst #bucky barnes #fluff #marvel #winter soldier #drama #original character #mcu #fanfic #the avengers

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donnerpartyofone · 1 year ago

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Also now I can find out whether the fact that I've been angrily talking to myself out loud with increasing vitriol was *only* about how frustrating I found her, or if I have some other problem too.

The longer I thought about it, the more things I could list that she just seemed totally unwilling to discuss or understand. It was big things to small things, traumatic family history, to some daily annoyance that was triggering important questions for me. Basically her reaction to any report of something that made me feel stressed or sad or insecure was to say "that's not important, YOU are important!"--like "It's not important what happened to you or why or what you thought about it, the only thing that matters is that you like yourself"--even as I was trying to tell her what was important to me by discussing the details of my life. Like I'm pretty sure I'm the one who is in charge of saying what's a big deal and what's worth talking about in my own existence. I'd have this experience where I was trying really hard to get to a detailed analysis of something that was bothering me and she would keep blocking me like a goalie with this oversimplifying "But that doesn't matter because you know you're a good person, right?" rhetoric. And every time she would eventually wear me down until I'd have to say OK, you're right, I agree that I'm a human being and my feelings matter, and then I'd be forced to just change the subject. And then I'd spend the rest of the week worrying about the subject that I never got to talk about, and what it meant.

One of the triggers of the breakup was something that wasn't a big ticket item, but it nagged at me, I was sure there was something behind it that I badly wanted to get into. After my therapist cockblocked me about it for the last time, I decided to figure it out on my own. It had to do with this really impressive person who I kind-of-almost became pals with, but it wasn't meant to be. When I tried to talk to my therapist about this disappointment she wouldn't stop telling me that everyone gets rejected and it is normal and OK and I don't have to be ashamed of being dumped or whatever...which was not what I was saying at all, actually I was embarrassed just by her saying that to me. I kept saying well this isn't about rejection actually, I don't even know that person really, but I obviously have some projection about them that says something about me and what my ideals are and I really want to talk about that--but she just cut me off again and again about how it's OK to feel embarrassed about rejection, until I gave in and changed the subject. Then I sat down and wrote ten pages of my own private analysis of said subject; like, what did I think I saw in that person, how does that line up with qualities I admire, do I myself embody any of those qualities or what would it take for me to be more reflective of them, or is this more a reaction to qualities I do have that I don't like so much, why don't I like them, can I change them, should I? And I started to get a really clear vision of what kind of people (or characters, in a way someone you don't know, who you've encrusted in your own projections, is just a character) I'm drawn to, what I have in common with them, and what this says about my values and ambitions, including ambitions that are either unrealistic or that I don't do enough about. And now I have all these useful and interesting questions to pursue, and I think I could have gotten that out of therapy if my therapist hadn't just done this cop out guidance counselor self-esteem-building exercise with me every time I wanted to talk about anything.

I still think I need an actual therapist, like journaling won't be enough forever, but I'm scared of having this experience again. Spending a couple of weeks exposing vulnerable stuff to a doctor only to have them pat me on the head and tell me I'm a good girl and that the details don't matter, like I'm some sad little urchin who just needs wuv, really drove me crazy. I wound up in kind of a rolling psych episode where I was ranting and raving like a Victorian madwoman, out loud, the second I woke up in the morning. A few different stress/depression triggers were in the mix to be fair, but my ultimate fear is being like really extremely misunderstood, having people either grossly misunderstand or willfully pretend to misunderstand what I'm trying to express, and this therapist made me feel like I was screaming at her from behind a sheet of soundproof glass, and it was making me angrier and more frantic every day that I was seeing her. This experience was slightly better than when I saw the therapist who basically accused me of lying about all the hard experiences I wanted to talk about, on the assumption that my life is secretly perfect and awesome and I'm a superhero so therefore all my complaints are just meaningless, delusional exaggerations due to low self-esteem (THAT OLD CHESTNUT, AGAIN). But the problem with these kinds of run-ins is that I remember them forever and my brain spends the rest of its life anxiously imagining all the things I wanted to say to these people and how they would just stick their fingers in their ears and roll their eyes anyway. And this is how I have become increasingly insane over the years. Like I'm sure I'm going to be imagining fights with the therapist I just fired years into the future. I still have imaginary fights with the first one from ten years ago. I can't stop this.

I think I just need to super-refine my idea of what kind of specialist I need to see, and develop some interrogation technique that I can use during consultations to detect whether someone is going to be a plausible match or a disaster. With any luck the latest experience will toughen me up and focus me, at least enough to make the damage worth it.

I broke up with my therapist. Now to definitely-not spend the rest of my day obsessing over exactly what I said and how I said it and whether or not her appropriately brief and dry reply means something.

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en-hale-archives · 3 years ago

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hi! can i request a hyung line smut about masturbating 😳 like they're tired from practice and they go home and all take turns using the bathroom or sneakily doing it under the sheets or something 😔😩

Damn anon, I'm into this one !

₊ ₊ ˚⊹ Where Enhypen Hyungs Would Masturbate ₊ ˚⊹₊

pairing ⑅ enha- hyung x themselves!

warning ⑅ 18+ content/smut, read at your own discretion

author's note ⑅ I turned this into where they would masturbate (which I think was your request, but if I got it wrong, I apologize!). As of now, requests are closed because I've gotten a lot and want to make sure I'm working on those before I get more! Again, thank you so much for all of the lovely requests!

Heeseung ⑅ After practice, Heeseung is all fatigued and worked up. While they're all eating, Heeseung gets the overwhelming urge to touch himself. So he excuses himself from the dinner table and tells them that he's not feeling well so he's going to go take "a nap". When he gets to his room, he makes sure he locks his door and takes off his clothes. He hops in the bed and snuggles in deep while closing his eyes. Heeseung was not even horny or anything like that, it was just as if his body was forcing him to release. With one hand behind his head and the other rubbing against his bulge, Heeseung flutters his eyes close and marinates in the moment. It only takes a few rubs before he's completely stiff, and he whips off his briefs and uses his hand to beat it and pound it at an alarming rate. His mouth slightly falls open, and he completely forgets about the outside world. Seconds later, he can feel himself getting closer and tries so hard to not let out a moan, but his breath is shaky. He continues on and on until he feels himself reach climax and feels the warm liquid pour out on his stomach and some land on the sheets. Heeseung rubs gently as he rides down from his high. He hadn't really came in a while, in fact, it's been so long that he can't even remember the last time. But he notes to himself to do it at least once a week since he felt a sense of relief and relaxation as soon as it was over.

Jay ⑅ After practice, Jay likes to watch k-dramas on the tv. It doesn't matter how tired he is, he'll make sure to catch up on his favorites. He sits with his bowl of ramyeon and watches. He's completely fine until a very heated scene comes on, and he feels himself weirdly getting excited. He has watched plenty of dramas and they have had plenty of sex scenes, but this one was different for some reason. Jay was drawn to the woman's body on screen and the looks that she made on her face when the other character went down on her. It made him wish he had a girl of his own to go down on. Then, he feels pressure against his joggers and realizes it's a boner. He sets aside his now cold ramyeon and looks around to wonder if anybody was coming. Usually, he watches these things by himself, and since it was pretty late at night, he was sure that the others were sleeping. Jay pauses the show and gets out his phone and AirPods. He takes out his hard-on and turns on erotic audios to listen. The woman's voice in his ear dirty talks and moans, making Jay go wild. He leans his head back against the sofa and takes deep breaths, slowly sliding his hand up and down while thrusting in the air. Seconds later the woman's voice encourages him to come, and just like that, he does. He accidentally let out a moan that he was trying to swallow down, but hurriedly lets it out so that he can quickly pull his pants up. He notices that he got all of his come on the couch and sighs. He'd spend the next thirty minutes cleaning up his mess and tell the others that he "spilled his ramyeon".

Jake ⑅ After practice, Jake's mind drifts off to think of other things. While everybody else was enjoying eating and talking, Jake was too busy just thinking. They kept asking him what was wrong, but he would tell them he was fine. Jake then excuses himself to go to one of the music rooms to "do a bit of thinking". Nobody tries to testify since he did this regularly. But Jake knew that going into the music room was the only place where he could have privacy. He went into the music room by himself at least once a week to get off. But if that was taken, he would go to the practice room, and if that was occupied, he'd wait until everyone was asleep to quietly get off in bed. Jake didn't care where he did it, he just needed to do it. So he quietly stalks off to the music room and locks the door. He flops in the desk chair with a plop and exhales. Jake knew he had to be quick, so he grabbed the lotion and tissue that he carried around with him in his bag, and got right to work. He went to an incognito window on the computer and searched his favorite porn. He unzipped his pants and lotioned his hands up. He placed both hands on his cock and got to pumping. Jake loved the way the woman on the screen moved her hips, he loved the way her skin glistened and how pretty her voice was. Seconds later, he feels himself getting close and grabs at the tissue, and comes. The music room was soundproof for obvious reason, which is why Jake loved it best, so he was able to make as much sound as he wanted. He groaned deeply while he felt the frigid tissue soak up his hot liquids. Jake smiles while he rides down from his high. He thought to himself that he would be back again tomorrow.

Sunghoon ⑅ After practice, Sunghoon usually likes to take a nap, but today felt different. All day he had been weirdly horny. He found himself spacing out like he use to do, but today, it had been way more. Jay and Jake teased him about "being a human statue", but Sunghoon couldn't handle it, he was just so horny that his mind drifted to the thought of people and their bodies. But Sunghoon is so private that he was too embarrassed to ever masturbate while the others were around, but he knew he needed to get it out, so he locks himself in the bathroom. He sits there for a minute to try and contemplate if he should do it or not, but his cock had already decided for him when he felt himself getting hard. Sunghoon quietly got it out and stroked it slowly. Which just a slight touch, it already felt so good. Sunghoon spits on his hand and on his cock to get it slick. He continues to stroke it faster and faster. He's close until he starts hearing voices pass by the door. It makes him nervous that someone will hear him or try to come in, so he stops for a second. when the voices are gone, he starts up again but knows he has to go fast. So with the speed of lightning, he jerks himself off while remembering being pleasured and teased by sexy people. Seconds later he climaxes and gets it all over his shirt and even some on his face. He cleans himself up and flushes the toilet just in case anyone was actually listening.

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beevean · 3 years ago

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I haven't played TGAA, but I find the double standard in the way Barok is treated vs the way Miles, Fran and the rest of them are treated kind of strange. Barok is supposedly insufferable, plus he's racist and xenophobic. I ain't excusing that, but that's just how 19th century England was.

Miles and Fran have most likely sent innocent people to jail or even landed them the death penalty, simply because they cared more about securing a guilty verdict than actual justice. Godot is a literal murderer, and I've heard some unpleasant things about Simon and Nahyuta as well.

Yet, all (or most of) these characters are redeemed. Barok's biggest crime is...upholding the views of everyone else at the time. And that somehow makes him irredeemable, despite him actually warming up to Ryonosuke later. I'm not saying everyone should like Barok, but if Barok is irredeemable, so is every other prosecutor in AA.

This has been pretty much my point ever since they announced GAA's localization.

Barok is obnoxious, that is undeniable. Nipponese this, Eastern island that, his mocking of Ryuu easily crosses a line that leaves the player uncomfortable, as it should, because if his xenophobia doesn't bother you it says more about you than about the game.

But. Being obnoxious is all he does.

He does not present forged evidence, or use loopholes in court, or coach witnesses, like Edgeworth and Franziska used to do.

He's never ever physically violent against the defense, unlike Franziska, Godot, Simon or Nahyuta - he breaks his own glasses and bottles when frustrated, but he never harms anyone. (it says something that the entire series so far had only three prosecutors who are decent human beings)

His objective as a prosecutor is simply to find the truth. While he pushes very hard to prove the guilt of the defendant, it's clear that it's because he genuinely believes in his case - once Ryuu manages to convince him his theory makes sense, Barok drops most of his hostility and helps him. Unlike Edgeworth pre-heel face turn and Franziska, he couldn't care less about his own record, which means that he never deliberately gambled with the lives of potentially innocent people for his own ego. He is biased towards Ryuu, not only because he's Japanese but also because Barok admits to personally taking his cases even if they're banal, but he's not completely driven by a petty grudge like Godot - like I said, he'll help Ryuu win if he does a good enough job in his book, no matter his personal feelings towards his learned Japanese friend.

Both he and Edgeworth post-heel face turn share the same goal of finding the truth. However, Edgeworth has hurt at least one person in his quest, infamously Adrian Andrews when he threatened to reveal her mental illness in court and even said "if you kill yourself, that is no concern of mine". Compare this with Barok, who has shown himself capable of kindness as soon as his second appearance, when he (spoilers for Case 4 of GAA) subtly implied he would allow Roly Beate to keep his job despite tampering with the crime scene, because he could empathize with the poor man wanting to spend one day with his wife.

He's genuinely competent in his job, relying simply on cold hard logic to dismantle the defense's arguments as a good prosecutor should - to be honest, it may be the different writers, but Klavier, Simon and Nahyuta never struck me as being especially good at their job, with Klavier having to deal with a rather incompetent Apollo in AJ and Simon and Nayhuta happily abusing the old "attacking the defense" and "asking evidence for every word you say" tricks. (to be fair Simon gets to demonstrate his interesting manipulative skills in one case... Turnabout Storyteller, when he's Athena's ally. Also, I can't remember anything particularly horrible he does beyond being an ass like usual, in fact he may be the best prosecutor of the second trilogy)

Speaking of Nahyuta, the reasons I can't stand him while I love Barok are that Nahyuta is nothing but repetitive, unwitty, painfully realistic obnoxiousness propped up by a shallow twist revealed at the tail-end of the game; he has no real character development, because "sowwy guys i was good all along" is not development; he prosecutes simply to win even if it means insisting that a young girl committed murder in spite of the defense's reasonable arguments; there is no in-game justification for shit like him tormenting Athena in Japanifornia, or even him being an asshole in Japanifornia at all; and there's no weight in the realization that he let hundreds of innocent people being sentenced to death while he stood aside to protect his sister (like, that has got to mess you up a bit right? Can you show me that, game?). Barok not only has a much more fleshed out, drawn out backstory that explains most of his behavior (although I have my reservations at tying his racism to One Trauma); not only he slowly (... very slowly) warms up to Ryuu; not only he has humanizing traits like feeling horrible about being branded the Reaper of the Old Bailey, like it would happen to anyone being rumored to be a death bringer; but he is, most important of all, an overdramatic bitch and the contrast between his intimidating demeanor and the shit he pulls behind the bench is infinitely more hilarious than being told for the umpteenth time that you're a putrid lawyer who's going to hell. It doesn't sound like much, but a good AA game masters the art of "love to hate".

You know how Klavier is a base-breaking prosecutor because some consider him too nice? Barok is what happens when you take Klavier's honest, well-meaning demeanor and give him enough presence to be hated and loved at the same time. I completely understand if people find him too annoying (he's testing my own patience lmao), but I still think he is one of the best prosecutors in the series, both as a job and as the role of the rival.

#ace attorney #barok van zieks #anti nahyuta sahdmadhi #not tagging everyone else lol #this blog has ufficially become the barok defense club

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

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The Wrong Lifetime – Five // Wanda Maximoff

chapter four | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter six

author’s note: dying of cramps but didn’t wanna leave y’all hanging, so enjoy! x

Taking Wanda to Blackpool was something I couldn't stop thinking about for the past three days.

I kept telling myself that I had to remain calm, not make her feel uncomfortable with my obvious attraction to her, and to give her the best day out considering she'd never been before. It wasn't anything more than a girl spending time with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, and I had to keep reminding myself that whenever I'd feel a stir of desire in my chest at the thought her pretty smile or intoxicating gaze.

My family were thrilled when they heard of my plans with Wanda. My parents were glad I was actually making an effort to get on with her, whilst my brother was excited I was becoming 'best friends', as he put it, with his fiancé. That one stung a little, the guilt pricking my insides, but I convinced myself that that was exactly what I was doing. It wasn't wrong if I didn't think of Wanda in any way but what she was. Right?

The weekend came around quickly enough, and on Saturday morning, I met with Wanda at the train station where she waiting for me with an enthusiastic smile.

"I brought my watercolours and sketchbook so I can paint what's there," she explained as we boarded the train. "I also bought a lot of pencils in case some snap. I'm gonna draw everything I see so I don't forget a single thing."

We slid into our seats and I smiled with admiration as she continued to ramble about all of the things she wanted to do today. She looked so lively when she spoke, her hands moving about frantically to express her excitement, and her lips permanently etched into a smile when she wittered on. I didn't mean to stare, but God, she looked beautiful.

"Thank you again for doing this," she finished, head turning to mine.

Now, I'd read and written many clichés of someone falling for someone else, particularly the moment they knew they were too far gone. It was hard to believe if they were true depictions of liking someone, but I liked reading and writing them.

It was now that I learnt that they were no exaggeration, for when she looked my way with a beaming smile and glowing green eyes, I knew it was too late. There was no going back for my attraction to Wanda.

"No need to thank me," I spoke slowly, surprised I could speak at all since she'd knocked the breath from my lungs. "I'm glad you're excited."

The journey was a few hours long and we made conversation the whole way. It was the longest I'd spent alone with her since meeting her and I was intrigued by everything she had to say, hanging onto every word with all of my attention. If that wasn't enough, her accent only made everything she said sound so much better. She was naturally soft-spoken, but syllables rolled off her tongue in a silky, raspy way with her accent entwined in her words. I loved it.

At one point, the topic of our families came up and I felt like my brother came up in almost every conversation I'd had with anyone who discussed family, so I took this as my opportunity to get to know hers instead.

"What's it like to have a twin?" I asked, leaning on my elbow as I watched her attentively.

She mirrored my action playfully, though answered my question. "It's just like having a normal sibling, except they're way more annoying."

I smiled, imaging just how annoying Pietro could be as a sibling.

"I love Pietro, but he's very frustrating at times," she spoke with a hint of endearment. "He constantly throws it in my face that's he's older than me by twelve minutes. As if that makes a difference."

A chuckle flew from my lips as she pouted at her own words.

"But he's also my best friend," she said with a sigh, like that fact was irritating in itself. "He knows me better than anyone and he's the easiest person for me to talk to. I don't have to hide anything from him." She paused, glancing upwards in thought. "Well, almost anything."

Pursing my lips, I wondered what she meant as she mumbled the last part, but didn't question it. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

"So, you and your family moved to England when you were kids, right?" I tried to recall what my parents had told me of them. "From Sokovia."

"Yes, we were about..." She scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember. "Eight years old, I think?"

"Wow, that's young," I realised.

She hummed in agreement, smile fading as her eyes fell to her hands. "Yeah... I don't remember much, but there was a lot of unrest at the time. A war. It was dangerous for everyone and my parents were lucky to get us out when they did."

I frowned, knowing some of this already, but it was sadder to hear when it was coming from Wanda herself.

"Our extended family didn't make it out," she continued to explain, voice quieter. "I didn't know them much, my parents' siblings, so it's not that sad for me. Pietro, too. But it's strange to think, you know? Especially when all of your family are around with this wedding and–" She sighed, shaking her head and looking to me with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

I straightened up, reassuring her instantly. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. It's okay. I... I didn't know any of that. I'm glad you told me."

She nodded, though the regret was still present in her gaze.

"I'm sorry all of that happened," I expressed honestly, not looking away. "But I'm glad you're here, if it makes a difference. You– your family are good people."

A small, appreciative smile graced her lips. "Thank you."

I shrugged, trying to brush it off so she wouldn't notice the heat rising up my neck. "It's nothing... so Sokovia. You speak Russian and English. That's pretty bloody cool."

She laughed wholeheartedly and any hint of sadness disappeared from her face, reassuring me completely. I didn't like to see her sad, especially when there was nothing I could do to make her feel better that I knew of.

"I promise to teach you some Russian today," she said with amusement. "A few words, just to diversify your vocabulary."

"Gee, thanks."

Another laugh escaped her and I chewed on my lip to contain my grin. I could get used to that sound.

—

When we reached Blackpool, Wanda was radiating with excitement. We couldn't make it two steps anywhere before she whipped out her sketchbook and began to sketch. She wasn't kidding when she said she was going to capture everything she saw.

I was patient, since the reason we came was for her, and watched as she worked. It was cute, seeing her concentrate and trying to stop dancing around with excitement every time I showed her something new.

We walked along the promenade and dipped in and out of the shops, looking at the gifts and clothes they sold. We bought a few things to commemorate the trip, but then Wanda was quick to drag me back outside so she could sketch the view of the beach from where we were stood. The grin on her face was convincing enough for me to let her drag me wherever she wanted. She looked so happy and I didn't care about anything else.

Eventually, around lunchtime, we headed to a café to have a break from all the excitement. Or rather, a break from running around. For Wanda, it was a better opportunity to sit still and sketch some more.

"So, you're drinking what, Y/N?" she asked, not looking up from her sketches as she worked.

I looked at my tea and lowered the cup. "Er, tea?"

"In Russian," she instructed.

"Oh." I cleared my throat, remembering what she taught me earlier. "Chay."

"And what's in the chay?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet mine patiently. "The milk?"

"Moloko," I remembered, and the proud smile on her face reassured me I was correct. My shoulders relaxed as I returned her smile. "Thanks."

"You're a natural," she assured me, before looking back to her sketchbook. "I only taught you the words. You remembered it yourself. And before you know it, ty budesh' govorit' polnymi predlozheniyami na russkom."

My mouth opened with confusion, not knowing what she said. She seemed to realise as she chuckled at my expression.

"Never mind, milaya (darling)," she said with humoured eyes, before resuming her sketching.

I breathed out, taking another sip of my tea before grabbing a fork to dig into my pasta. As I chewed, I watched Wanda move her pencil effortlessly, creating lines that somehow resulted in a perfect drawing of the horizon.

"Do you only draw and paint landscapes?" I asked curiously.

"I can do portraits, too," she answered with a nod, glancing at me. "But they're never as good."

I gave her a knowing look. "I doubt that."

She merely smiled in response, eyes meeting mine for a moment, before shaking her head with amusement and looking back to her sketches. I chuckled, leaving her to it as I enjoyed my lunch and read the newspaper.

It was nice to just sit and enjoy each other's company as we did our own thing. I'd occasionally glance up to see Wanda focused on her drawing and smile, allowing myself to appreciate the sight, before looking back down to the paper and enjoying my pasta.

By the time I finished my food, as had Wanda, she straightened up and tore a page from her sketchbook. The noise pulled me from my reading and I looked up to see her holding the paper towards me.

I quirked a brow, but she simply shook the paper, signalling for me to take it. With confusion, I took it and became speechless when I saw what she'd drawn. It was me reading the paper, the exact view she must have had from being sat opposite me. It looked exactly like me, probably better since I knew I didn't look that good, and I was amazed at her talent all over again.

"You did this just now?" I asked with disbelief, looking up at her.

She shrugged and distracted herself with her pencil. "Yeah, it's not much. It's not my specialty."

I scoffed. "You're kidding. Wanda, this is amazing!"

Bashful smile on her lips, she glanced up at me. "Maybe it's the best portrait I've done. But I think that's down to my subject."

Even when she was embarrassed, she was still capable of turning the tables on me, leaving me a flustered mess. It was like her superpower. A very annoyingly cute superpower.

"That's what you look like y'know," she continued, nodding to the paper in my hand. "When you're focused on reading. You chew your lip with thought. And you get this little crease–" she pointed between her brows with a laugh, "–right here, and you seem to forget that anything else exists."

A sweet smile spread on her face as she tilted her head, watching me with intimidating eyes, very much aware of the effect her words had on me.

"You're very observant," I said, trying not to stutter, her gaze making me nervous. "Perfect skill for an artist."

She hummed in agreement, though didn't look away. "Mere artistic observation, right?"

My heart was hammering in her chest the longer she stared, especially when her words dawned on me. I'd said the exact same thing after she confronted me about picking her ring. I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Just like the first time I saw her, I was at a loss for words and couldn't look away. She was compelling, beautiful and remarkable all at once.

—

"Nebo," I said, hoping it was the correct word for 'sky' in Russian, as Wanda had taught me.

She grinned. "Yes! And horizon?"

I pulled a face as I thought carefully. "Er...gorizont?"

"The student is soon to become the master," she said, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that was anything but the truth. I appreciated her encouragement though.

"Okay, before we head to the beach, we have to buy some rock," I told her, leading her to the stall on the promenade. "I got it last time and it's so good."

She furrowed her brows. "What's that?"

I smiled at her expression. "It's a sweet. Kind of like boiled sugar that's formed into a stick of, well, rock."

She didn't seem convinced. "If you say it's good, I trust you, I guess..."

I laughed, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the stall. "You'll love it."

After getting two sticks of rock for Wanda and I, we began to walk to the sand. I glanced at the brunette, wanting to see her reaction. She eyed the hard candy before attempting to bite it, a small piece breaking off at the top. Crunching on it, she scrunched her nose up.

"It's hard," she noted, swallowing the piece. "Tasty, though."

"It's better if you suck on it, love," I let her know with a hidden smile. "Tastes much better."

She did as I said, beginning to suck on the top, and seemed to enjoy it more. Giving me a thumbs up as she sucked it, I couldn't help but laugh again. She looked adorable, so I left her to it and did the same as we walked along the sand and towards the benches in the distance.

Like a child experiencing something for the first time, she began to point excitedly at Blackpool Tower and the ferris wheel in the distance and I just kept nodding along, letting her get excited because it made my heart skip a beat every time she flashed me a smile.

When we reached the benches, I was glad that today wasn't a busy day. It wasn't exactly tourist season, so the beach was scarce of anyone but residents of the town. And even then, our side of the beach was pretty empty, giving us first dibs on a bench that wasn't broken or uncomfortable.

Settling on it, Wanda pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged so she could lean on them and pull out her watercolours. I sat beside her and leaned back, inhaling the salty air and exhaling peacefully. I never had much reason to visit here apart from when my parents took my brother and I on the occasional trip, but it was nice to appreciate the sound of the ocean washing over the sand and the seagulls squawking in the sky. A big difference compared to back home.

Another silence formed between us as she painted the water ahead, and I couldn't help but glance her way, watching her pucker her lips with concentration. All she'd wanted was this and I was glad I could finally give it to her.

So she wouldn't notice, I looked away and stared out at the blue expanse of ocean before me. I should have been appreciating its beauty, but all I could think about was how it was no contest to the girl sat beside me.

"I'm really glad you brought me here today," she said out of the blue after a while, "but I wouldn't have said yes if I'd known you would be bored."

I looked to her and saw she was still preoccupied by her painting. "I'm not bored. We came here so you could see the water and find some new subjects to paint. And that's exactly what we're doing."

She sighed, looking up at me with a questioning glance.

Smiling reassuringly, I said, "I like the quiet. And I like watching you work. You look happy. It's good to see."

She tensed her jaw, stifling a smile, but her eyes said it all. She was grateful. Of course, her eyes were also very easy to get lost in, even if she didn't mean for me to. And right now, under the sun, I found myself drowning in pools of blue.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly, a hint of a smile on her face.

Stupidly, I felt compelled to tell her the truth. "I'm thinking about how you have really pretty eyes."

Attempting to make me flustered yet again, her favourite hobby by now I was guessing, she raised a brow teasingly. "Oh, really?"

It didn't bother me this time though, as I maintained eye contact and felt my heart swelling with adoration. "Yes. It's like you hold all the elements in a single gaze."

Her smile faded and that's when I realised what I'd said, my heart dropping to my stomach in an instant. Swallowing hard, I looked away and shook my head. An apology was waiting on the tip of my tongue when she spoke with realisation.

"It was you."

I glanced her way nervously. "What was?"

She was staring like her mind was working something out and I was the missing piece. "The letter that Y/B/N gave me last week. He wrote the exact same thing. What you just said."

My brows knitted together with confusion, then it hit me. The love letter Y/B/N wrote. The one he assured me was for his own eyes. He'd given it to her. And I'd just gone and said the exact thing he'd written on it, no doubt passing it off as is his own words.

"Th–that wasn't me," I got out, shaking my head slowly. "I didn't even know he gave you a letter, Wanda."

She continued to watch me, eyes squinting with scepticism. I swallowed hard under her gaze, trying to think of how I could come back from this. But apparently I didn't have to, because she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.

My mind was foggy when her fingers rested behind my neck, tugging me closer. I closed my eyes, melting at her touch, and began to kiss her back, moving my lips against hers. She was slow and gentle with me, her lips as soft as they looked and sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. I could have kissed her forever and been content, but my brain finally caught up to my actions and I reluctantly pulled away, stunned.

Glancing around to make sure nobody saw us – there was literally nobody here – I caught my breath and looked back to Wanda. Her eyes were drawn to my lips before they flickered to meet mine, darkened with desire.

"Why did you do that?" was all I could think to ask, and I was acutely aware of her fingers still grasping my neck, the skin burning where her tips grazed.

She licked her swollen lips, expression softening. "I think I've been falling for the wrong Y/L/N."

My lips pressed together, missing the feeling of hers against them. Never in a million years did I expect her to say something like that. I thought she'd been teasing me this whole time, but now, maybe there was truth to her actions.

"Did you really mean what you said?" she asked apprehensively.

"What?"

She swallowed. "What you said about my eyes. Did you mean it?"

Well, she'd kissed me, so there was no going back now.

I nodded, noticing the hesitance in her eyes. "Yes... you're beautiful, Wanda."

She didn't say anything and the silence was deafening. I almost wanted to run back home and pretend this never happened, but that was the cowardly side of me. The other side, the disbelieving side, wanted to stay here with her and keep living in this little bubble we'd created.

"Can I kiss you again?" she finally spoke, eyes flickering between mine for confirmation.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded slowly, and she didn't waste another second as she leaned in once again. This time, I wasn't so surprised, so I kissed her back quickly, trying not to think about how wrong this was. How I'd been taught that this was wrong. Because I refused to believe this was wrong, that it was a sin, when it felt so damn right.

Wanda felt right.

—

When I got home later that afternoon, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

Wanda was all that was on my mind. Everything about her was floating around up there – the contagiousness of her smile, the brightness of her eyes, the taste of her lips. When I left this morning, I wasn't expecting to return with– well, I wasn't sure what we were, but we'd decided to give whatever this was a go.

Of course, she was still engaged to my brother, but I tried not to think about that. She made me happy and maybe in a different lifetime we could have been together, but this was the wrong lifetime which meant I'd have to make some wrong decisions, this possibly being one of them.

The guilt was still present, but the adoration I had for Wanda overpowered it. The fact that she actually liked me back was too thrilling for me to even concern myself with the lack of future this relationship would have. I just wanted to enjoy what we had whilst we had it, even if it meant being together in secret.

"So, how did your trip go?" my mum asked me when I returned, looking up from her knitting.

I stifled my grin the best I could. "It was fun. Wanda loved the seaside."

My mother seemed pleased as she smiled my way. "Y/N, that's great. You know, I'm really proud of you for making an effort with her. It means a lot to everyone."

"Mhm."

"She's going to be your sister-in-law after all," she continued knowingly, "so it's good you're spending time with her. Maybe you could do it more."

I hummed in agreement, my heart fluttering at the possibility of spending more time with Wanda. "Yeah, that could be good."

"Go on upstairs, you must be tired from the travelling," she said after a moment, noticing my distant headspace. "I'm glad you had fun today."

Wanda's smile appeared in my mind again, her lips ghosting my own. I sighed contently.

"Me, too."

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen #marvel #marvel imagine

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

The Perfect Fit | Bucky Barnes x reader (part 2)

(part 1)

summary: after getting fitted by you, bucky’s going to try on the custom-made suits he’s bought. unless he makes his move now, he may not get to see you again, and he can’t let that happen.

word count: 6.5k

warnings: smut!!, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), a little d/s energy, mirror kink, stomach bulge kink, slight pain kink?, creampie kink, pussy spanking, light bondage, bucky being jealous

Bucky had a bone to pick with Tony, which was usually true but this wasn’t work-related for once. It wasn’t hard to find him in the same place he’d seen him last— eating his lunch in the kitchen, with Sam nearby chowing down on lo mein with a spring roll.

“Hey lefty, what’s cracking?” Tony greeted, mouth full but talking loudly anyways.

"I went down to that tailor you recommended—" Bucky began, but Tony was quick to interrupt.

"You went there? Dude, it's a really nice place, you can just call and she'll come to you instead, way more convenient."

"So now you say 'she'?"

Realization dawned on Tony’s expression. "Ahh, I get it. You're not used to a female tailor. Adds a little spice to getting fitted, huh?" he grinned, elbowing Bucky playfully.

Bucky’s throat felt a little dry when he heard that. "Don't tell me that's why you use her…"

"Hey now, I'm not a creep, I use her cause she's the best, and those house calls are great for discretion— you know, being a celebrity and all. The eye candy part is just gravy."

"Gravy candy sounds disgusting," Sam chimed in, missing the point entirely.

"Yeah, well, she mentioned some stuff that sure made you sound like a creep."

"Okay, well, you can't blame me for getting caught staring when I'm surrounded by fucking mirrors. Makes it hard to be stealthy."

"You could try not staring,” Bucky suggested flatly.

"Is that what you did?"

Tony smirked when Bucky failed to reply immediately. "Okay, so it's easier said than done,” Bucky admitted with a frown, “but still, I hope these house calls were strictly professional."

“What’s it to you, man? I think somebody’s jealous,” Tony purred.

“What? No, it’s not that,” Bucky denied.

“You love her,” Tony sing-songed, completely ignoring Bucky. “You looooooove her!”

"You are so immature," Bucky rolled his eyes, even though his heart was racing and he was pretty sure he was blushing.

"No, it's good for you! She's a catch, you're all brooding and stuff— maybe she can melt the Winter Soldier's frozen heart, hm?"

Sam laughed heartily. "Stark, you read too many comic books."

"You're saying you don't wanna see Icy Hot here shoot his shot with my tailor?" Tony asked, turning his attention towards Sam.

Sam pondered that, much to Bucky's dismay. "Depends. How hot is she?"

"Mega," Tony smirked confidently. "Legs for miles, and she wears these skirts that make her ass look—"

"I think I've heard enough," Bucky groaned. "I'm leaving. And don't ask when I'm going to see her again," he instructed, interrupting Tony just as he'd opened his mouth to speak, "because I won’t tell you.”

As Bucky left, he could hear Tony calling out into the hall: “But I’d be such a great wingman!”

Truth be told, Bucky had put off mastering the use of his smartphone. It wasn’t just that new technology made him feel old, but that he knew nobody would be calling or messaging him anyways; if the phone didn’t work, he would spare himself the embarrassment of waiting up for nothing.

But once he knew you were going to call? Suddenly, he was motivated to figure the sucker out.

A few hours later and now all he had to do was stare at it to make sure he wouldn’t miss you. Luckily, you didn’t make him wait too long. He recognized the number and decided to let it ring a few times before picking up, so it would seem like he had other things to do besides talk to you.

“Hello?” Bucky asked when he answered, so it would seem like he had other people calling him besides you.

You introduced yourself so formally that he was a little afraid that all that fun energy between you two would be gone. Thankfully, once he asked what you were calling about, you were back to being cheery and casual again.

“I was just calling to schedule when I could come by with your new suits!” you explained, sounding chipper.

His fingertips were a little tingly just from hearing you talk, nervousness making him antsy (in a weirdly good way). “I know you said it’s a one-person operation,” he responded smarmily, “but I figured you would outsource delivery.”

You scoffed, though it sounded more amused than irritated. “It’s not just delivery, I have to check the fit and make sure everything’s exactly to your liking.”

“Oh, well, I’m free all day tomorrow— and I think you already know my address.” Was it too forward? Too obvious? And why did Bucky spend half the time when he was talking to you second-guessing himself?

“Yes, Stark Tower is a relatively common destination for me. If he doesn’t mind us using it, Tony has a dressing room with plenty of mirrors so you can get a good look. But, I’d be happy to just go up to your quarters if that’s easier.”

He was not at all ready for you to see his room. No way he could clean it enough in the next twelve hours; and even then, lots of the team had made fun of how empty and plain it was, so he knew it would just make you think he was boring.

“I’m sure Tony won’t mind you using his dressing room, but he might mind me using it,” Bucky chuckled.

“Well, if he makes a fuss I’ll be sure to set him straight,” you decided confidently. Somehow, imagining you cursing out Tony was almost hotter than imagining you doing anything else. “Be sure to bring down your dress shoes so you get the full look and everything.”

“Uhhh…” he trailed off as he scratched the back of his head, trying to remember if he owned anything other than combat boots. “Not sure I still have those, to be honest.”

"Okay, you'll need shoes too,” you noted aloud, your voice a little distant; he figured you were writing things down, which was why you sounded distracted. “What size are you?"

"Thirteen."

"I'll bring a selection tomorrow,” you announced firmly. “And socks, of course. And some watches, maybe? And pocket squares."

"Is that it?" he asked sarcastically.

“Oh right, I’m bringing the ties you picked out, too. I’ll throw in some alternates in case your original choices don’t match the way you were hoping.”

“You really are full-service,” he chuckled.

“I get that a lot,” you replied, a hint of coyness to your tone.

There it was again; that jealousy. He hated it because he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop it either. As much as his mind was completely aware that you were an independent, modern woman capable of handling herself, his heart was equally determined to protect you, and spoil you, and do whatever was necessary to make sure you were safe.

Worse, his gut was less innocent. Mine, it demanded, all mine. Nobody else’s.

He pushed it down and just tried to get through the rest of the call without saying something he’d regret. You confirmed the date and time with him, and he tried not to be too aggressive when he said he was looking forward to it.

He hung up his phone and sighed, staring off into space. Now all that was left to do was wait, and be overwhelmed with anxiety. Thankfully, he was good at the second thing.

"So, what do you think?"

I think you look so damn good from every angle. I think I might spend all my money on suits just to be sure I can see you again. I think you need somebody to love you the way you deserve. I think you’d look like an angel waking up in my bed.

You waved your hand in front of his face for a moment, calling his attention back to reality. “Helloooo?”

Drawn out of his trance, Bucky finally looked in the menagerie of mirrors surrounding him and admired his reflection, amazed by the perfect fit of his first suit. The difference in quality between this and something off the rack was beyond apparent. Most of all, your talent was undeniable. "I think it's beautiful."

You smiled proudly. "Of course it is, but do you like how you look in it?"

"Honestly? I feel a bit… out of place. I'm obviously not classy enough for a suit like this."

"Oh, nonsense," you dismissed.

He frowned, convinced this was all flattery. "No, seriously, this is… maybe I should just wear tactical gear to every event."

"Well, you'd still look good, but you're not always a soldier. Sometimes you're only a man. And every man should own a fine suit."

It was much too profound of a thing to say while you casually straightened his jacket, only to pop out from behind his reflection to smile at him in the mirror.

“Let’s get the next one on you,” you decided, helping him lose the jacket but having him move into a private dressing room to switch trousers and shirts. “I put a turtleneck in there instead of just a regular button-up,” you explained through the door as he changed, “in case you wanted to see it that way.”

Once he’d put it on, he stepped back out and you were looking at him so proudly— well, you were looking at your handiwork with pride, really, but he could pretend it was for him and hope actually impress you that much one day.

“I went with a shawl lapel on this one, as opposed to the last one which was notched,” you explained as you traced the line with your finger. “Spoiler: the next one has a peak lapel. But enough about that one: what do you think of this one?”

“This looks like something my friend Sam would wear,” Bucky decided as he looked at himself in the cranberry suit and black turtleneck. The shoes you’d had him try on with this were intricate as well, with subtle stitching in the leather and a shine so immaculate he could almost see a reflection in them.

“Well, is your friend Sam stylish?” you asked.

“He would certainly say so,” he smirked.

“I’m inclined to agree, because you—” you gave him a thorough glance up and down, so thorough in fact that he felt a bit exposed under your gaze, “—look marvelous.”

“Not pretentious?”

“No, no, it works on you,” you assured, “you’ve got the looks for it.”

“And what looks are those?”

“Um… good? Good looks?”

He definitely remembered a time when that seemed like the obvious answer, because he had relied on being good-looking for a lot of things in life, but that felt very far away now. Maybe it was just that people who didn’t know what he’d done could still think he was good looking, but everyone else saw the evil within beginning to leak out the way that he did.

But you knew what he’d done, didn’t you? You had to. You knew Tony, you were here at the Tower… unless you were intentionally not up-to-date on current events, you must have heard of the Winter Soldier.

“Don’t act so surprised,” you huffed, “as if it’s a big secret or something. You’re obviously very attractive.”

Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, thanks.” He wanted to return the compliment, but thought it might be inappropriate or rude somehow. You broke the silence quickly as you held up two pocket squares in front of him.

“Which of these do you prefer?” you prompted. He selected the solid gold one, making you smile. “I knew you’d pick that one.”

“How?”

“I dunno, just fits you,” you shrugged as you folded it and gently placed it in his pocket. Even through so many layers, your touch on his chest made his heart flutter. Your fingers brushing over his as you slipped a watch onto his wrist was enough to cause palpitations.

He looked better in this ensemble than he expected. This version of himself looked much more likely to be invited to parties than any other version. If only he actually wanted to go to parties.

You put him in the pinstripe suit last, after putting a few pins in the cranberry suit to indicate minor changes you would make later, and stepped back to ponder your work.

"Hm, unbutton those top two buttons for me?" you requested with a raised eyebrow.

I will if you do, he thought to himself, but silently unbuttoned his own shirt anyway.

"I mean, it definitely works like this, but I wanna see you in a tie. And I've got juuuuust the one," you smiled. Soon you were approaching him with a red paisley tie, and helping him button up his shirt and tying the tie for him— you explained something about how it was a unique knot he likely couldn't do himself, but he was too lost in having you so close to notice. It would be so easy to just reach up and grab your waist, pull you into a kiss, finally tell you how bad he wants you.

Well, it would be physically easy, but it would be very scary. Just imagining it had his heart racing.

“I heard from Tony this morning,” you informed him suddenly, slipping the tie around his neck and popping his collar up for him.

“Really? Is he in need of a wardrobe update?”

“Yes, but he hasn’t realized that yet so that wasn’t what he called about.”

He laughed a little at the jab, though it also made him a little worried what secret opinions you held about his own style (or lack thereof).

“We talked about you, actually,” you added.

“O-oh,” Bucky stammered, “uh, he’s not exactly my biggest fan. So whatever he said probably isn’t true.”

“He said that you have a crush on me,” you replied nonchalantly, not even looking up from your work on his tie.

Bucky gulped, and he knew you saw the bob of his Adam’s apple because you were staring right at his neck.

“Like I said, Tony isn’t a very reliable source,” Bucky replied, but his voice cracked in the middle and he cringed internally.

“I’ll write it off as another one of Tony’s off-color jokes then,” you dismissed, perfecting the knot of his tie and stepping back to observe him. He always felt nervous when you looked at him like that, like he couldn’t hide anything from you.

“What… what did you say, when he told you that?” Bucky asked nervously.

“I asked him what he was smoking and if I could have some,” you laughed. “I thought it was totally impossible— and don’t worry, I didn’t tell him that you got hard when I did your inseam.”

Bucky’s throat became dry at the same moment that his palms got clammy.

“I— um, I was just—”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you dismissed quickly, still talking about this all so casually which only made him even more confused, “you’re not the first, it happens.”

“I’m not the first?!”

“Yeah, if anything you were one of the few who didn’t say something creepy about it, which is always appreciated. It’s just a bodily reaction, you can’t control it.”

“Did Tony ever say something creepy?” Bucky pressed, his hands involuntarily tightening into fists— another bodily reaction he couldn’t control.

“You know, Tony said you were really worried that he had been inappropriate with me, or even that he and I had a fling or something,” you added as you stepped back, giving him a quizzical look, “and now it’s sort of sounding like he was right.”

“No, no, it’s not that, I just—”

“Was he right about anything else?” you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

“I was being nosy, I’m sorry,” he sighed, “it’s just that… and I know it’s none of my business, but the idea of him and you… it isn’t a pleasant mental image.”

You laughed a little, in a way that made him feel kind of small. “Why not? You know how he is. Definitely has a wandering eye… and occasionally a wandering hand.”

Bucky winced. “I swear, if he ever put his hands on you, I’ll go find him right now and beat him senseless.”

“What if I wanted him to?”

He nearly saw red, but he knew he had no right to be angry. You were a grown adult and he had no ownership over you… he just sort of wished that he did.

“So it’s true then? You and him…?”

“No, Bucky,” you laughed, “it’s not. Nothing’s ever happened between us. I generally don’t get involved with clients like that.”

“Generally? Is there an exception?”

You chewed your lip, seemingly a little thrown off by his question. “Uh, I mean, no— I’ve never been involved with a client, no, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Why would you say ‘generally’ then?”

“Uh, I guess I just… I wouldn’t want to rule anything out, that’s all. Never say never.”

And for a moment he almost wondered if you were flirting with him. Certainly not, with him having come across as both a jealous hot-head and a bumbling dweeb who pops a boner faster than a randy teenager, but just for a second the way you looked at him was… questionable.

“I mean, who knows,” you continued, “what if, hypothetically, some gorgeous guy walked into my store one night— a sensitive guy, who made me laugh and put up with me rambling about ties for the better part of an hour— and I was supposed to dress him up when all I wanted to do was undress him?”

Your finger started to trail down his chest lightly, tickling his skin through the dress shirt.

“I wouldn’t want to think he was off-limits just because he’s a customer… right?” you asked quietly, looking up at him and biting your lip.

He was afraid to make the wrong move, but he really really hoped this was flirting.

“I don’t think anyone would object to being dressed or undressed by you,” Bucky responded, hoping he could stay neutral until he was sure what you were talking about.

You chewed your lip, looking away as if you were thinking about something.

"I know I certainly haven't. And wouldn't," he added, feeling the need to say something.

You nodded, placing his tie inside his jacket and seeming happy with your work.

“You know, the fit looks great," you announced, "but I’m a little worried that one of the measurements was wrong. Mind if I do your inseam again?”

His throat was dry all of a sudden, but he responded quickly anyways. "Uh, go ahead…"

You looked up at him as you started to sink to your knees, very slowly. That little move looked real good in the mirror behind you. “Last time I did this, there was something getting in the way, made it difficult to know if I was doing it right…”

"M-my apologies," he whispered.

"Oh no, I'm not complaining," you purred as you slowly began to run your fingers up the side of his leg, keeping searing eye contact until his knees felt a little weak.

When your hand reached the top of his inner thigh, the back of it brushed against his balls and he shivered. Delicately, and so excruciatingly slowly, your hand moved higher and gently rubbed his erection through the fabric.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

It must have been all the anticipation that made it so intense, made shivers run up his spine every time your hand moved over his length, made his toes curl inside the ridiculously fancy shoes you’d put him in.

“I’m gonna take it out now, okay? I promise I won’t measure you here,” you winked.

"You can if you want," he shrugged, deciding now was the time for feigned confidence if there ever was one. “I mean, if you’re worried about fit…”

You bit your lip, and he was proud to see the effect his words had on you. “I’ll be honest, I am a little worried it won’t fit…” You were quick with his belt, but slow with his button and fly, apparently having more fun teasing him. “Fuck, Bucky,” you groaned softly as you took his cock out.

“Don’t look so excited, doll, you’ll give me an ego,” he purred.

“Can’t help it,” you sighed, “looks delicious.”

You licked a long wet stripe up from the bottom all the way to the tip, making a show of licking up the bead of pre-cum before taking his head into your mouth, and Bucky blinked a few times to be sure that this was actually happening.

"Been wanting to do that since I first saw you," you admitted, grinning as you stroked him right beside your face, which only helped to illustrate how big he was compared to you.

"Dirty girl," he praised with a smirk.

Flirting, he wasn’t so good at. Conversation in any form typically stressed him out. But this? This he was still pretty good at. And he’d never wanted it so bad before.

When you took him in your mouth again, you didn’t stop until you started to gag; he couldn’t stop himself from moaning through his teeth when you did it.

"Look up at me, princess," he instructed softly, grinning when you obeyed quickly. "Now look over there at that mirror. Look how good you look on your knees for me, choking on my cock."

You moaned around him when you made eye contact with your own reflection, and it felt so fucking good he almost lost it right then and there. He held your jaw, almost too tightly, and guided you as your head bobbed on his length. Your mouth was so warm he thought he would burn up— and it only got warmer the deeper he managed to get. God, he was so ready to pump his load right into your throat, but he wanted to do so much more to you first.

In one quick motion, he pushed you off of his cock, pulled you up to face him, and flipped you around, holding you to his chest with the metal arm and letting the flesh one start rubbing your thigh. This way, both of you were looking at the mirror in front of you, and he loved watching you gasp and moan as you felt and watched his fingers move higher and higher.

“I think it’s time to find out if you really are ‘full-service’,” he purred right against your ear, making searing eye contact with you in the reflection. “You’ve seen so much of me, but I haven’t seen nearly enough of you yet. Been daydreaming about what you could be hiding under these tight little skirts.”

As he pulled up the plaid-patterned fabric, he saw that you were wearing white, lacy panties and he groaned deeply.

“What are you wearing these for?” he teased, rubbing along the edge but never getting where you wanted— and he knew you were getting desperate, because your hips were starting to buck up into his hand. “Were you expecting something would happen today, sweetheart?”

“I— I was hopeful,” you stammered; instantly, he slapped you right on your barely-covered pussy, just hard enough to make you yelp and squirm in his grasp.

“You’re so shameless,” he chuckled darkly, “and I love it. I just hope this isn’t your usual routine— acting all innocent and batting your eyes so your clients will fuck you.”

“No, I swear, it’s just you, Bucky,” you whimpered, “there’s nobody else, please…”

“Please what? Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to… to touch me more,” you whispered, as if it was a secret and not patently obvious.

He slipped two fingers underneath the thin fabric, finding your clit right away (not difficult at all with how swollen it was) and rubbing it in gentle circles.

“Oh god,” you sighed, “Bucky…”

WIth his hand on your hips, it wasn’t hard at all to push you back into him so he could rub his aching cock against you.

"What material is this skirt made of?"

"It's a silk blend," you answered breathlessly, "about 30% cotton."

"It's soft," he purred before yanking your skirt up higher and pressing his cock against your ass instead, "but not as soft as you."

Next to go was your blouse, which he tore open to the sound of buttons flying every direction and bouncing off of the mirrors and floors.

"Bucky!" you yelped, but he could see your nipples harden through the lacy white bra. If there was any doubt that you had intended to seduce him today, the matching undergarments dispelled it.

After teasing your nipples between his fingers for a moment, he reached back down between your legs— and when his fingers slipped through your folds and moved down to your opening, he actually moaned just from how wet you are.

"Fucking hell," he growled, "you are drenched, princess. You liked sucking me off that much?"

"Not just that," you clarified, "you look really good in my suits."

He gave you a toothy smile in the mirror, using it to nibble on your ear a bit. "You deserve most of the credit for that," he purred.

"No, no, I don't," you whined, "you'd look sexy in a paper bag, honestly… you turn me on so much, Bucky."

“Did you… think about me? After I left your shop the other night?” he asked playfully, already foreseeing your answer from the way your thighs clenched and your lips let out the subtlest gasp.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“You’re smart enough to know I want you to be more specific than that,” he chuckled.

“I thought about you that night… after I got into bed…” you elaborated slowly, clearly distracted by the way he was moving his fingers: delicately, but with obvious intentionality. “I thought about what it would’ve been like if you had grabbed me and kissed me, shoved me against the wall, fucked me right there on my desk… in front of the glass wall, where anyone could’ve walked by and seen you claim me…”

His cock was throbbing, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the image itself or from the knowledge that you’d been fantasizing about it. “Were you touching yourself?” he growled.

“Yes,” you sighed, your thighs starting to visibly shake, your knees bending towards each other in the mirror.

“Show me how,” he demanded. “Show me exactly how you were playing with your needy little pussy while you thought about me.”

Your hand found its place on top of his, your fingers starting to move his to the specific place, guiding his movements to be faster and rougher.

“Oh, I see,” he grinned, “you don’t like to tease yourself, do you? You like to jump right into it, come as many times as you can and rub yourself raw in the process?”

You nodded feverishly, panting and whining and writhing in his grasp.

“You’re so desperate, honey… such a shameless cockwhore for me.”

“For you,” you repeated through your trance, “Bucky, ‘m close… keep touching me, please…”

He kept his thumb on your clit but gently slid one finger inside you, both of you gasping at the sensation (if for different reasons).

“So tight,” he hissed, already pulling it back out, “fuck, and just for one finger…”

“More, please,” you begged mindlessly.

“More? Sure you can take it?”

You bit down on your lip as you nodded, and he pushed a second finger in beside his first. He felt you struggling with it, both in your walls and in the way you winced a little, but you softly begged him to keep going so of course he couldn’t stop. You adjusted quickly, your wetness starting to run down his hand.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, “now, please, can’t wait anymore.”

“Yes you can,” he encouraged, “and you will, cause I need to taste you first.”

Pulling his fingers out of you, he flipped you around again, finally kissing you the way he’d been dreaming of since he first saw you. It was intense but not too dominating— in spite of everything. It was a romantic sort of kiss, maybe too romantic for the situation (that being his cock out and hard and pressed against you, and his fingers covered in your arousal) but perfect nonetheless.

“That’s not what I thought you meant when you said you wanted to taste me,” you giggled when he pulled away.

“No, I meant it the other way,” he smiled, “I just wanted to do that first.”

He picked you up suddenly, making you gasp a bit, but knelt down to lay you on the floor pretty soon after. You looked up at him with wide eyes as he lifted your leg and kissed his way up. He could smell your need, and he worried it would drive him wild before he reached his destination.

Pulling your soaked panties aside, he realized he could probably come just from looking at you. “Such a gorgeous pussy,” he growled his praise, leaning down to plant a few more teasing kisses over the inside of your thighs. Finally, he started with one long lick, just like you had with him, but you weren’t so patient to tolerate it. Nearly instantly your fingers pulled his hair, clearly trying to guide him to tease you less, but he couldn’t be swayed to go easy on you.

“I hope you’re not forgetting who’s in charge,” he smiled hungrily.

“And what if I am?” you returned, clearly looking to get on his nerves so he’d get rough with you. He was happy to oblige.

Bucky sat up and loosened his tie, slipping it off of his neck with a smirk. "Now, this is 100% Venetian silk, so it should feel nice around your wrists," he cooed. You offered your hands willingly, and he got a chance to show off a few complex knots of his own. "Now be a good girl and keep those hands above your head, alright?"

You did as he asked, freeing him to hold your legs open as he devoured you, alternating between teasing your bud with the tip of his tongue, and fucking you with it.

"You taste like heaven, doll," he growled when he came up quickly, "and the way you moan when my tongue's inside you? I swear I could die happy right now."

"I wish you wouldn't though," you whimpered.

He laughed a bit before he got back to it, letting his tongue focus on your clit while he filled you with his fingers again. Your walls clenched down on him occasionally, and when it became more frequent just as your moans became louder, he knew you were close.

"Stop, stop," you sighed suddenly, pushing him away.

"Are you alright?" he asked, nervous he'd done something wrong.

"No I'm fine, I just… I don't want to come yet. I want you inside me first."

"And what about what I want, hm? What if I want to watch you come just from my tongue?" he offered instead, though he was definitely still very persuadable in this regard.

"I know you wanna fuck me, Bucky, don't make me wait any longer,” you moaned, your back arching up a little from the floor.

Not needing to be told twice, he flipped you onto your elbows and knees, making sure you could support yourself with bound wrists before letting you go. His hands running over your exposed ass and thighs made you shiver, and he smiled down at you. At this point, he was probably more desperate than you were, but he was doing a much better job of hiding it, even taking the time to reach up and undo a few of the buttons of his shirt, because wow suits are warm and not meant for his level of physical activity.

Still, he figured he had waited long enough— he needed to fuck you while he still had at least a shred of patience left. He was going to need it if he was going to give you time to adjust to him.

Holding his cock and rubbing it through your folds, he chuckled when you whined and dropped your head down in a pout. He loved watching your expression shift into a gasp as he pushed in.

He went slow, but he didn't stop either. He wanted to test you just a little. He wanted to stretch you open.

"Fuck," you cried, "god, you're so… you feel so…"

"Look in the mirror," he instructed coldly, although the coldness was just a front for the way he was holding himself back as your body swallowed him so beautifully.

You moaned again, higher-pitched and weak, just as he finally got all the way in. He waited until he felt your body relax a bit before he asked if it was okay for him to move yet. You answered with a quick nod, a breathy "please," and he didn't need any more encouragement.

It was probably too fast to start off with, but god, he'd been waiting so long to fuck you like this.

"Baby," he whispered, "you're so perfect."

He held you steady and thrusted deep, so deep that it made you gasp each time. You looked incredible, and you felt incredible, but the way you sounded was just… divine. He could never have imagined the beautiful way you would sound when he was bringing you pleasure like this. Having heard it, he wanted to make you sound like this as often as possible from now on. Technically he couldn’t even be sure he’d get another chance to, but surely sounds this perfect meant you had to be having a good time, right? Ideally a good enough time to call him again?

He was snapped back to focus when he saw your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.

"Don't look away from that mirror, honey," he growled, "don't close your eyes. Look how pretty you look like this."

He could tell you loved it from the way your channel fluttered and flexed.

"You like watching yourself get fucked, princess?"

"Yes," you sobbed as he grabbed your hips harder, hoping to leave a bruise, "it feels so good, Bucky, please don't stop!"

"I won't stop, pretty girl. Not until you cream on my cock," he grunted.

"Fuck, I'm close," you whined, "Bucky, I'm gonna come— oh god right there!"

And he was sure it couldn’t be fake from the way your body tightened and released so many times, the way you quivered and your breathing seemed to stop for a moment. Even though he could barely take it, he kept fucking you through it until you were shaking so violently that he worried about your health.

“You feel so goddamn good when you come, princess,” he moaned softly. “Tryin’ to milk my cock for all it’s worth, aren’t you?”

You laughed a little, sounding exhausted, but as he kept fucking you he could feel how sensitive you had become. When he reached down to push your skirt back up to your waist after it had started to fall down a bit, he felt his own movements in your gut and it took so much not to lose his cool in that moment. Instead, he pulled your upper body into his so that you could see in the mirror the way your lower stomach was bulging a bit each time he pushed in all the way.

"F-fuck, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Anybody ever been that deep inside you before?"

"No, not even close," you moaned.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked gently, kissing up and down your neck slowly to match his lazy, teasing thrusts.

"A little," you admitted, "but it feels good. Don't stop."

He wasn’t so brutal with his thrusts, still deep but with a patient, measured pace. It staved off his orgasm a bit longer, and it made you moan all slow and throaty which was not better or worse than the needy, high-pitched moans, but enjoyably different. You didn’t sound as desperate anymore (probably because you’d already come), instead seeming relaxed and calm— if still arching your back and biting your lip nonetheless.

"I wanna come inside you," he whispered right against your ear; he could feel the way you shivered as a result.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Is that what you want? Wanna be full of my come?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, please Bucky I need it so bad!"

"Fuck, gonna fill you up so good, doll," he promised gruffly. "Want me to make you mine, beautiful?"

He knew it was a risky thing to say, but his risks had paid off so far, and he wasn't in his most cautious mood.

"Already yours, Bucky," you sighed, "I'm yours, please come in me…"

It hit him suddenly when you said that, and harder than he expected. He hadn't come like that in… he hadn't come like that ever. He preferred not to think about the sudden, wavering moan he let out in that moment because he wondered if it sounded unsexy, but thankfully his mind was distracted by the overwhelming sensation of his softening, sensitive cock still within you.

He managed to maneuver you in the way he needed as he pulled out, leaning you back into him and holding your legs open to the mirror in front of you.

"Look in the mirror, sweetheart,” he instructed, his whisper a little labored as he was still catching his breath, “watch my come leak outta your pussy."

You seemed to be in awe of it, despite it being the obvious outcome of what had just happened. To be fair, he was in awe of it in a sense, too; a thick, slow stream of sticky white come dripping down from your swollen hole and onto the floor… it was mesmerizing.

Your body was limp in his arms as he finally allowed you to rest, your eyes falling shut as you melted into his embrace. He took a moment to untie your wrists, tossing the garment aside with an exhausted sigh. “Bucky…” you mumbled sleepily, apparently just to say his name.

“Was that… sort of what you were hoping for today?” he asked softly, kissing your temple.

“And more,” you giggled. “Oh my god, I… I don’t even know how to describe that… you’re so… fuck, I don’t know, my brain is totally jelly right now.”

“In a good way?”

“In the best way.”

He smiled, admiring your vacant-yet-pleased expression and feeling satisfied with his work. You turned over to lay your head on his chest, and he gladly draped his arms around you in response. Holding you like this felt so purely right, in a way so few things did to him. Funny enough, even just having fucked you on the floor and already holding you afterwards right now, he felt nervous again that he would say something wrong. You were a modern woman, after all, and maybe this was this ‘hook-up culture’ he kept hearing about.

“Was that true what you said, doll?” he asked gently, feeling you stir a little and slide a leg up to rest over his. “Did you mean it when you said that you were mine? Or was it just, you know, the heat of the moment…?”

You smiled a little, looking kind of embarrassed. “Um, yeah, I meant that… I’m yours, if you want me to be.”

He didn’t feel as guilty for feeling so possessive over you now. Clearly it was appreciated, in the right context. And he was now at least 75% sure that this wasn’t a hook-up. “Well, I’m yours, too,” he replied with a soft laugh, “whether you want me or not.”

“I want you,” you confirmed.

You laid in silence together for some unknowable amount of time, but it was a purely unawkward silence. A peaceful silence, and one filled with possibilities, but not uncomfortable. Maybe it was uncomfortable in the sense that the carpet, while still being very plushy and expensive, was still the floor and not as forgiving as a bed… but it was completely worth it.

Part of him feared to ruin the moment by speaking, but much more of him feared that you would slip out of his grasp if he didn’t say something. "This may be the wrong time to ask this— or maybe just the wrong order to do this stuff in— but I wanted to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner sometime."

You laughed, but cuddled deeper into his chest. "Um, yeah, that would be nice."

"I just hope I'll find something nice to wear," he grinned.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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getitinbusan · 4 years ago

Text

10 years with Jungkook

California

You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love?

Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.

Words: 4600

Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.

It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up.

The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money.

Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity.

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personal…one in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.

The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.

Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?

You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life?

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free.

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I’ve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day.

"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"

Reading the description on the wall you’d both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard.

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer.

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. “This is Jeongguk.”

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent.

Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways.

Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members. He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,” and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed. Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret.

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck. I have everything I wanted and I’m not allowed to share it with you."

His arms gripped you tighter.

"I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever."

Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too.

LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him.

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later.

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.

Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We're coming back in October for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

It was Namjoon’s job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotel’s back receiving door.

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you’re ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"

He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna?

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you weren’t looking. If you weren’t sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here."

Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break you’d make your way to the tree for some time alone, together.

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.

Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him.

"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."

You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it.

The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.

"Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.

"My god Guk, look at your abs!"

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.

But you didn’t, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldn’t move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never.

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

"I love you," you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you’d been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

"I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble."

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

"You promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight, let’s get out of here."

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to regret anything. "

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."

He rested his head against your chest, "You’ll always be mine."

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them.

Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed.

"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."

More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldn’t be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.

"It feels good Kookie, please…"

You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."

Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue.

"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath.

"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself.

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

He placed his forehead against yours.

"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever.

Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

"Shit, I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.

"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now."

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom.

Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. You’d made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

"I have to leave soon. I don’t want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."

Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off.

"And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished.

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, "I’m outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too."

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting.

"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.

You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoon’s voice broke through the moment.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook."

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."

He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan.

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again.

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do?

Picking up a pen you began writing…

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn…

Y/N

October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world.

Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror. Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.

"Hi."

He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

"Hi."

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d only grown more handsome.

"I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed."

He was getting closer.

"But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…"

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

"Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me."

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

"God I’ve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

"How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s the first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?"

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

"I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks."

Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on, that’s you."

He guided you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something."

~Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light,

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you ~

"I promise I’ll never let you go again."

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #Jeongguk #jungkook x reader #kookie #nochu #10 years with jungkook #california #lana del rey

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mimisempai · 3 years ago

Text

Wait for me on the other side 8/8

Summary:

The long awaited end! Will they finally overcome all the obstacles?

Here we go! Enjoy the journey!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82452802

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

The months and seasons have passed for Mobius and Loki.

Mobius moved out of the house on the cliff and into an apartment above the store. After Ravonna's death, Casey saw no reason to stay in TK and joined Mobius at Miss Minutes.

With his client base expanding, Mobius needed someone to help him and thought of Casey, who had been more than enthusiastic at the idea.

They had formed a curious friendship with Sylvie and life was flowing smoothly.

Casey could see that at times Mobius' eyes seemed lost. His face wore a melancholic expression. But Mobius said nothing, smiled and Casey pretended he hadn't seen anything.

On New Year's Eve 2022, Mobius, Casey and Sylvie were celebrating together and as the fireworks started, Mobius couldn't help but think of other fireworks with nostalgia and wondered what Loki was doing, where and with whom.

January 2021 - Miss Minutes

It was already late and Mobius was hunched over his drawing table, looking focused as Casey poked his head through the door.

"Mobius, I'm going in. I've got it all locked up, you'll just have to close the main door and the blind."

Mobius focused, simply replied, "Hm..."

Casey, seeing that he hadn't been listening, approached and looked over Mobius' shoulder at what he was working on.

"A new project?"

Mobius looked up, a little embarrassed, "Oh. No. It's just... a personal thing."

Casey shifted to get a better look at Mobius' work.

Mobius tried to hide it.

"Mobius, let me see."

"No, it's nothing."

"Come on."

Mobius gave in and Casey's eyes widened at the drawing.

It was the house on the cliff but re-imagined. There was a terrace that ran along the back, and stairs that went down to the water - the stairs that Mobius had described to Loki. There were trees planted along the way, and lights shining in the trees. The house was just as extraordinary as before, but much less austere, much warmer, almost romantic.

Casey said softly, "I like it."

Mobius asked casually, "Do you like it?"

Casey nodded enthusiastically, "Before, it looked like a place you would go to be alone. In this one, I can imagine taking someone there."

Mobius nodded. Casey looked at him with his piercing eyes, and asked softly, "Who is he?"

Mobius answered without hesitation, "Loki. His name was Loki."

"When you lived there?"

Mobius nodded and Casey continued, "I knew it, that there was something or rather someone. What happened?"

Mobius replied simply, "I lost him."

"How?"

Mobius replied with a hesitant voice, "It's hard to explain. It's mostly... it was... bad timing."

"You miss him?"

Mobius couldn't deny it and Casey insisted, "Make him come back."

Mobius ran a hand over his face, "It's too late. Or too soon..."

"What?"

Mobius shook his head, "Nothing. I don't even know where he is. And even if I did, I couldn't walk up to him and say, ``Hey, I'm here, let's pick up where we left off."

Casey defiantly asked him, "What would you have to lose?"

Mobius didn't answer.

**********

Loki was still living in the same place and the tree had continued to grow in front of the building.

He spent a lot of time with Thor, who had apparently decided to take him under his wing.

He was alone, but he had a friend, friends even, that he could count on, and if sometimes one or the other tried to encourage him to date someone, they never insisted.

He devoted his life to his classes, the students liked him a lot, and Kamala who kept coming to see him after class had brought other members of the gang with her, and the discussions around Norse mythology had turned into a reading club.

Early February 2023 - Loki's apartment

Loki had decided to clean up, because in two years, he was starting to pile up things, and it was time to sort out.

He was organizing his clothes when he came across the outfit he had never put back on since the missed date. His throat tightened as he was about to put it in the pile of clothes to be thrown away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it and put it in the back of the closet.

Later, as he was vacuuming, he noticed a creaky floorboard. He bent down to examine it and found that it could be lifted quite easily.

Loki pulled the floorboard and to his surprise, there was an empty space underneath. He bent further to examine it. He saw that there was something there, put his hand to grab it and pulled out a package wrapped in dusty plastic. He opened it. His heart leapt out of his chest, it was his copy of PERSUASION.

One page was marked with a rose, now dried and withered by time. He opened it to the marked page and saw that a sentence had been underlined.

There could have been no two hearts so open,

no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison.

He stared at the words, breathless.

February 14, 2023 - September Academy

Thor and Loki, along with the other teachers, were sitting in the school's conference room waiting for the presentation to begin.

Thor leaned over to Loki, "Hey, since Jane won't be able to spend this Valentine's Day with me, how about a hallmark movie night with some popcorn and good beer?"

Loki smiled softly, "Sounds good to me, but in the meantime we've gotta get through this presentation."

Just after his words, a short dark-haired man entered the room and took his place on the stage, greeted by Natasha who spoke up, "Hello everyone, thank you for coming. We are pleased to welcome Casey Fish, from Miss Minutes."

Loki startled slightly, the name ringing a bell.

"Casey is here today to introduce us to a new line of electronic organizers for students and teachers, allowing for better communication between the various parties. Thank you for giving him your attention."

Casey cleared his throat and began to speak, "Hello everyone! Thank you for your welcome Ms. Romanov, Miss Minutes is basically a small watch store, but over the years we wanted to expand its business to include time management in all its forms, and its founder had the idea a little over two years ago to create this."

He pointed to the screen that just displayed a small rectangular device, much like a flip phone.

"Let me introduce you to The Tempad. The Tempad, thanks to its small holographic avatar, allows you to be connected at any time with your colleagues, with your students."

He clicked on the remote control to bring up the next image.

"This is Miss Minutes for you."

Loki gasped, of course he knew Miss Minutes, it was exactly like the little picture Mobius had drawn when he had written to him about his store.

Thor, sensing his friend's confusion, leaned toward him and whispered, "Loki? Are you okay?"

Loki nodded.

He listened to the rest of the presentation in a daze, and as Casey was packing up his things on the stage, Loki rushed in without further ado, almost shoving some of his colleagues in his way.

February 14, 2021 - In front of Miss Minutes

Casey and Mobius came out in their winter coats, but they realized it was surprisingly warm.

Mobius growled, "Honestly, what the hell?"

Casey shrugged as he replied, "Global warming."

Mobius asked Casey, "Do you want to come to my house for dinner tonight?"

Casey replied with a small air of pride, "I can't. I have a date tonight, it's Valentine's Day."

Mobius continued forward for a few steps, then stopped.

"What?"

"What, is it so weird that I have a date on Valentine's Day night?"

Mobius looked around. The day was really hot. People everywhere were enjoying the sun. He turned to Casey, a strange look on his face.

"What's the date?"

"Valentine's Day I told you, so it's February 14."

Mobius repeated, "February 14, 2021."

Casey looked at him, curious, "Yeah. What's up with you?"

Mobius with pensive eyes replied, "He told me about today."

"Who? You mean the guy?"

"Yes!" replied Mobius excitedly, "There's a letter that says where he's going to be!"

Casey understood less and less, "He wrote you?"

Mobius nodded quickly, "Yes. I could see him today. You said it the other day...what have I got to lose?"

Casey replied matter-of-factly, "What are you waiting for?"

"I just need to find the letter!"

Mobius ran to his apartment above the store, rummaged through his old boxes, until he remembered that Loki's letters were still in the house on the cliff, in the attic. He looked for the spare keys to the housel, ran to his old pickup and drove off at full speed.

February 14, 2023 - September High-school

" Mister, uh... Casey, can I ask you something. Miss Minutes' founder, who is it?"

Casey, with a surprised look, answered him, clearing his throat, "He's a friend, Mo... Mobius M. Mobius."

Loki repeated, his heart pounding, "Mobius..."

Casey replied, "Yes. Do you... do you know him?"

Loki nodded, "Yes. He... where is he? Could you tell me how I could contact him?"

Casey suddenly looked very sad, "I'm sorry. You don't know?"

"What?"

Casey replied with a tight throat, "He died. Two years ago." He swallowed before resuming, "Two years ago today, in fact, there was an accident..."

Loki, shocked, gasped, then whispered, "Where?"

A few seconds later, Loki ran out of the school and headed for his car under the rain that had started to fall. Thor was behind him, bewildered, and called him, "Loki! Wait! What's going on?"

As he continued to run, Loki told him, 'It's an emergency! I don't have time!"

Thor asked, "Is that him?"

Loki, while running, replied, "Yes!" and heard Thor shout back at him as he climbed into his car, "Go Loki! Get him!"

Loki drove out of the city toward the house, rain pouring down on his windshield. He weaved between lanes, passing cars, driving recklessly, as fast as he could.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2021

Mobius stopped in front of the lake house. It was closed, empty. He ran across the path and unlocked the front door.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki arrived at the house and stopped skidding in the rain in front of the mailbox. He pulled out a notepad and began to write, desperately.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2021

Mobius ran to the attic. Inside was the only box he had stored there when he moved out. He opened the box and searched frantically. He found the bundle of letters from Loki. After a few moments, he found the one he was looking for and read it.

Last February, I remember it was Valentine's Day, but it was really hot for a day in February.

I was at the fountain in Valhalheim Square.

He said aloud, "The Valhalheim Square Fountain."

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki finished writing the note and jumped out of the car. He put it in the mailbox and raised the flag.

He stayed there, and fell to his knees in front of the box, soaked by the rain.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2021

Mobius jumped into his pick-up , and quickly drove away from the house. He passed the mailbox.

Valhalheim Square - February 14, 2021

Loki closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sunlight warm him. Just aware of the surrounding sounds, the water in the fountain, the splashing and laughter of children playing in it, an old man grumbling about global warming, pigeons landing nearby.

Mobius could see the fountain from inside his pickup. He looked for a parking spot, finally found one and jumped out. He started running towards the square.

In his hand he clutched a piece of paper, the words of which echoed in his head.

Dear Mobius.

I know it now... it was you at the fountain that day.

It was you on the square. Please, don't go there.

Something terrible will happen if you go there.

Mobius continued to run toward the fountain.

He stopped at the curb, separated from the fountain by a dense road full of traffic. He looked away, searching for Loki beyond the noisy traffic, among the crowd in the park.

Please don't look for me.

He finally saw him, a distant figure, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun. He smiled.

Don't try to find me.

They are now only separated by distance.

Don't run to me.

The traffic became less dense and Mobius had a clear view of Loki, straight ahead.

Do you understand? Please. You must wait.

Mobius stepped off the curb, wanting to get closer to Loki.

Forget everything I said before.

We both have to wait.

If you love me and if I love you.

I love you, it's taken me this long to say it but I really love you, so wait for me.

Mobius saw Loki open his eyes, as if drawn in his direction. He looks alarmed.

Wait with me. Wait until time catches up with both of us and we can be together. Please. Just... wait.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki soaked, was in tears at the foot of the mailbox and only whispered, "Wait, wait..." and continued to cry.

The rain continues to fall.

Loki, finally, having lost all hope, tried to pull himself together and began, very slowly, to get to his feet.

He looked at the box and gasped, the flag was down.

With trembling hands, he did not dare to open the door and when he did, he saw that his letter was gone.

Valhalheim Square - February 14, 2021

Mobius was standing on the road, straining to see Loki and at the last second, he backed up to the sidewalk, safe. He continued to watch Loki, he desperately wanted to run to him, but he didn't, he folded the letter, put it in his pocket and reluctantly turned and walked away.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki looked at the empty mailbox, his face soaked with tears and rain.

A hand came up from behind him and gently closed the box. He slowly turned around.

Mobius stood silently and looked at him, holding the worn letter Loki had just posted. Loki stared at him for a moment, trying to convince himself that this was real.Then Mobius took a step toward Loki and smiled, shyly.

"Have we waited long enough?"

Loki, still shocked, his eyes filled with tears, whispered, "Yes."

Mobius approached again, and smiling more openly this time, brought his hand to Loki's face and wiped a tear with his thumb.Loki rested his head in his palm and then finally they fell into each other's arms, squeezing each other, inhaling each other's scent, prolonging the embrace again and again, making sure it was real. Making sure that each of them was real.

Then Mobius finally pulled back and captured Loki's lips in an endless kiss. For long minutes they separated only to catch their breath before kissing again, over and over again, indifferent to the rain that fell around them.

Much later, they separated to catch their breath and Mobius took Loki's hand to lead him home.

Loki gasped. The house on the cliff had changed.

In the two years of Mobius' life, the life Loki had saved, Mobius had transformed it.

He had brought to life the design he had shown Casey two years ago, with the deck, and the stairway to the water they had talked about, and the trees planted along the path, lit and glowing in the rain.

Loki laughed, astonished, and turning to Mobius he took his face in his hands and kissed him again.

Then they walked together along the path, stopping often to touch and kiss.

As they passed the door, Loki held Mobius by the sleeve, "Wait."

Mobius turned around and couldn't help but touch Loki's face with his fingertips once more.

Loki grabbed his hand and interlaced his fingers with Mobius' as he said softly, "I don't want to wait to tell you for real this time." He paused and with a trembling smile and bright eyes, he told him, "I love you."

Mobius didn't want to wait to tell him in turn either, "I love you."

They hugged each other tightly again, tasting the happiness of hearing those words spoken by the beloved voice.

Then much later, they entered their home, ready to start a new life where everything was still to be discovered. Together.

**********

The house on the cliff - Summer 2024

"Cwoki! Cwoki!"

"Lila! Go slowly honey and wait for your little brother!"

"Wait my love, I'll help you." Clint came to support Laura who was struggling up on the small path leading to the house on the hill. She huffed a little, laying her hand on her belly rounded by her 6 months of pregnancy.

They watched, fondly, as their two children gave gentle pats to a Croki who seemed to enjoy it.

"Lila, Cooper, stop spoiling Croki, he'll keep coming to us for petting afterwards."

Both children stood up and grabbed onto the legs of the man who had just spoken.

"Uncle Mobius!"

He picked them both up, carrying them each in one arm.

"What about me, don't I get a hello kiss?"

Each of the two children placed a sounding kiss on Mobius' cheeks at the same time.

"Should I be jealous?" a voice behind Mobius spoke up.

"Uncle Loki!"

Cooper was already reaching out to Loki, who didn't hesitate. The little boy gave him a big kiss on the cheek and wiggled to be put back on the ground.

Loki and Mobius, side by side, welcomed Laura and Clint.

"Clint, Laura, Welcome!"

They all embraced and then headed to the terrace.

Loki guided Laura to a comfortable chair, stuffed with cushions for her. She sat down with a sigh, "Thank you." then looking around, she continued, "I may have been here many times before, but I'll never tire of this view."

Mobius motioned for Clint to sit next to Laura, before taking a seat as well.

Loki was about to sit down when he heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling up in front of the house, Mobius started to get up, but Loki motioned for him to stay seated. "Stay seated, love, I'll welcome them."

He walked down the path toward the cars that had just arrived.

Thor was the first to walk over to him, "Loki! My friend!" before hugging him. Loki was now used to Thor's overflowing affection and allowed himself to be patted on the back.

Soon Heimdall, Bruce, Carol and Natasha joined them and followed his lead into the house. When they arrived on the terrace, everyone greeted each other, and sat around the table chatting happily. Lila was in awe of Natasha's red curls, and Cooper laughed out loud as Thor spun him around at arm's length.

"Is this the direction for the little party?"

Heads turned to the source of the voice as Mobius exclaimed, "Casey, we weren't expecting you anymore!"

Casey laughed lightly and added, "Where do I put this?" he pointed to the cake in his hands.

"I'll take it." replied Loki. He took the cake into the kitchen and there he felt suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. He waited for a while before returning to the terrace.

"Hey handsome, what are you doing here alone?"

Loki looked up and smiled, "Mobius."

Mobius, who after more than a year had learned to decipher Loki's expressions, noticed that something was wrong.

"Loki, sweetheart, what's going on with you."

Loki wanted to start talking, but the emotion was too strong,

"Hey, come here." Mobius took him in his arms and gently stroked his back, waiting for the worst of the crisis to pass.

After a few moments, Loki straightened up, a trembling smile beneath the tears, "I'm sorry, I don't know, I'm not sad, not at all, on the contrary, but I suddenly had this irrepressible urge to cry."

Mobius nodded, pushed a strand of Loki's hair back behind his ear.

"Just too much emotion maybe? What were you thinking?"

"I... I was putting the cake on the table and I thought, if you hadn't read my letter, none of this would be real. I wouldn't be here. There wouldn't be all these people on our deck. And it freaked me out for just a short moment, to realize that I almost lost everything."

Mobius, also visibly moved, pressed a tender kiss on Loki's mouth and said softly, "But on the contrary, you have, we have gained everything. You saved me, gave me a new life, and in doing so you gave us all a different and more beautiful life."

Loki nodded his head, then shook it as if to collect himself.

He kissed Mobius tenderly in turn, then stepped aside and grabbed Mobius' hand and pulled him toward the terrace, a confident smile on his lips.

"Come on, let's go celebrate!"

As Mobius let himself be pulled along and they walked through the living room, his gaze fell on Ravonna's book. His first family. His sister. Then his gaze slid to Loki in front of him and by extension everyone else on the terrace. Their new family. Not by blood, but by heart. All because one day, Loki had posted a little letter.

Dear new tenant.

Hello and welcome to your new home and congratulations, blah blah blah. You have made an excellent choice, New Asgard is a wonderful place and this house is a gem, as you may have already noticed.

I'm sure you'll love living here as much as I do.

Loki had not known that these words would be so prescient, even though they came from the future and were addressed to someone from the past.

Oh yes, Mobius loved living here, but not because of the house, because of the love that filled it. Because of Loki.

Together. For All time. Always.

_________

That's it, everyone is happy, including me. I hope you enjoyed it to the end. 1000 thanks to all the comments left, it's the fuel for each chapter. I love you all!

#lokius #Developing Relationship #no powers au #Alternate Universe #Letters #penpal #loki series au #loki #mobius m. mobius #lokius fics

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 4 years ago

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Into The Mystic

(Leon x Honey one shot)

Warnings: smut and fluff

A/N: Honey and Leon get what some people don't, another chance at their first time. It's my birthday, and I'll continue getting my faves laid if I want to!!

Leon felt uneasy about their move to Manhattan. Honey had spent several years on the run from the FBI. But she slipped her old neighborhood on like the coat he bought her their first Christmas. It was warm and familiar to her.

Leon, on the other hand, was anxious. He still looked over his shoulder the last few weeks. He was unable to let go of the idea that they were squared up with both organizations. Honey and Kidman got them to out bet one another based on all the documents Leon had hidden in his belongings when they left London after.. Not only were they clear, they got to keep the money. But not without an ominous warning that the couple might owe them a favor in the future.

In The Village, Honey and Leon's flat was spacious. They had a massive kitchen and living area. A clawfoot bathtub and shower and both of them could spend time together without banging elbows. There were two bedrooms and a walk-in closet. A room too large for an only child like Selina, but there was hope more kids may one day follow. There was a fire escape for plants and smoking weed late after the little one went down. Most importantly, they had a king sized bed and a master room they never had to split with anyone.

Leon sat on the edge of their giant bed and waited for Honey. Whatever it was she was doing in the closet. He waited for her with patience for the last year, the last few weeks, these last hours until Selina went for her nap.

Despite being together again, he hadn’t actually been WITH Honey. He forgot how much he loved sex with her. He was always too high since she and her pregnancy left London for India. He stayed faithful and wanked to the photos she left behind. Or the erotic letters she wrote. So much had happened, he settled for her kisses and held her while she slept.

“Fuck yeah! I found them! Ok just a few more minutes, alright. Sugar did a number on my body, not sure if they’ll fit.” Honey shouted out at Leon from the depths of the closet.

“Your body is quite lovely,” Leon claimed. “All soft curves ‘n’ such. You haven't given me a go at seeing you proper naked since everything. I miss it. Bring it out here, lemme get a toss in?”

“That's what I'm trying to do, you knob!” Honey waved a hand from inside the closet. Her arm covered in leopard print. “I'm just nervous is all.”

Leon's eyebrows raised, “You taking the piss? Honey Comb, nervous about sex. With me? I reckon you're the sexy one between the two of us, yeah? Those hips and tits, like a sculpture. Bloody hell I'm built like a baby deer. You made me shave, and I look like a mental teenager.”

“Fuck’s sake, Leon! You look exactly like you did the day we met. That's what is doing me in. Of course I've got nerves, we haven't had sex in over a year. It's like, our second first time or something.”

He never thought of it like that, but she was right. They were getting reacquainted. Having to adjust to new roles as parents and partners. Leon had to adjust, Honey had six months on him with the baby. It was gobsmacking how quickly she settled in as his number one thought. How his brain now switched automatically from having sex with missus to his daughter.

Selina with her big, dark eyes like Mummy, but Leon's wild curls. The way she hardly fussed and loved being bound up to his chest as they walked the city. She would stare at him and tilt her head around to make sure Honey was still there too. Then she would smile around her pacifier, and that was Leon's too. A much better picture to fill his head at night than the agent with an axe protruding from his back and dead bodies he stepped over as they hurried away.

Leon clenched his eyes shut from the memory. He inhaled deep and exhaled slow, but his hand trembled with a craving for opium or or anything. Except he went cold turkey the moment they got in the back seat of that Mustang Kidman stole. He was clean, except the odd joint. Honey said that wasn't the same, it calmed his nerves. Healthier than a head shrinker.

“Close your eyes, alright?! I had to set up the record player. God I hope watching my godmother paid off.”

Leon obliged, “Done!”

He could sense Honey in front of the bed as the music started. A giant, dopey grin spread across Leon's face when he opened his eyes, “Alright, doll.” He leaned back to watch.

Honey started to twist her body to the ground with her back to him. She held the leopard coat tight around herself as her hips started to sway to and fro hidden by the giant jacket. She opened one side to reveal a bare shoulder that she rolled to the music. Then repeated again with her other shoulder before she dropped the coat enough to show her bare back right above where a bra strap would be. Leon bit down hard on his lip.

Honey covered herself and spun to face her partner. She opened the jacket to reveal a strapless bra, high waisted black panties and thigh highs held up by a garter belt. Leon squirmed in his spot when she placed a foot beside him on the edge of their bed.

Her hips never stopped their movement as she unsnapped one stocking and started to roll it over her leg and over her knee. She stepped out of it and hung it over Leon's shoulder. She switched to the other side and placed that foot beside Leon now. He grabbed her ankle, but she slapped at him playfully and shook her head. Her finger wagged back and forth.

Now Honey leaned her body forward like she was going to sit in Leon's lap. It was so quick, he almost lost balance. She did this rhythmically a few times before presenting her garter belt to him and gestured he undo this one. He was all too happy.

Leon started to pull the nylon forward once it was freed. He palmed the soft skin of Honey's inner thigh and the back of her calf as she let him take this side off. He couldn't help bending to kiss the same spot on her body where his hand had been. She didn't stop him as his lips trailed her knee and calf. In fact she forgot herself when he looked up at her with his bright, verdant eyes.

“Stop!” Honey’s cheeks were pink and hot with embarrassment. “You're making me forget what I'm doing! I'm trying to make this special for you.”

Leon’s hands traveled up Honey’s hips and waist and splayed out along her back under the fur coat. He buried his face between her breasts and showered them with kisses that moved down. His fingers alternated between massaging her back and backside all while his tongue traced the line in the center of her stomach and dipped teasingly into her navel.

“We have a daughter together. I'm your husband, and you’re my wife. Blimey, you chose me for some reason. That's the biggest mystery of this bloody universe.”

Honey’s fingers tangled and untangled and tangled again throughout Leon's hair. She melted her body into his as he spoke. She held his head to her chest. “What's a mystery?”

Leon unhooked her bra with little effort. It fell to the floor so he could lose himself one more time in her cleavage. This time his hot mouthsucked on her hardened nipple. He switched to the other and teased it with his tongue. Honey's grip tighter on the back of his head as she urged him back towards her stomach.

“That you love me,” Leon’s response muffled. He bit at the waistband of her panties and tugged it down and off with her help.

Honey was naked under the big coat and stood exposed to her husband. A body she wouldn't show him the last few weeks. Leon drew her foot back up to the bed. His eyes gawked at her breasts and her stomach and her pubic hair. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but all of her own thoughts rushed out of her head when he suddenly slid two fingers inside her.

“Fuck!” Honey cried out and dug her nails into Leon's shoulder.

He dove them in and out of her body. Hooked them just a bit and kept pumping at the wetness and her slit. His eyes on her sex as he did it almost fascinated by how deep they went. His middle finger found her clit which he fondled momentarily before he replaced his fingers with his mouth and tongue.

Leon flicked his tongue back and forth like a snake. He held Honey's backside and pulled her onto his face. His mouth and tongue worked together to elicit cries of pleasure from the woman in his arms. It goaded him into going faster until he knew she couldn't take anymore. He withdrew his tongue and sat back to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. A satisfactory grin dimpled his cheek.

Honey got her hands on Leon's boxers and yanked them down and off. She went to take the coat off but he shook his head. His eyes begged her to leave it on. So she did as she straddled his willowy body and took his cock in her hand. She positioned it just outside her entrance and teased the head with it. She ran it just outside and Leon agonized in her grip.

“Honey,” that familiar drawn out whine like music to her ears before she sank down onto him.

Leon's hands splayed out across Honey's back once more as she started to ride him. Her hips undulated back in time with the rhythm of the record that had started over in the background. Arms draped in a lackadaisical fashion over his shoulders.

Leon raised his hips to just immerse himself inside her walls as she bucked on his lap. His hands on Honey's waist to aid in the powerful back and forth motion.

Neither was sure if it was the build up or how long it had been since their last time, but Leon didn't last. That was ok Honey kept reassuring him as he let go of everything and came. A tremble coursed through Leon as she hugged him tightly, both their hearts beat wildly and out of control. Honey didn’t cum, and that was alright too.

Then Selina began crying from the other room, and Honey's breasts started to leak milk on instinct. Leon's chest was wet, and he held his wife back to stare at them as they did the other function boobs were meant to perform.

“Right on,” he said simply with a nod of his head.

Honey stopped being mortified right then of the way it looked, or the things her body was doing because of the baby. Their baby.

This sweet, intelligent, passive, lithe, sexy man beneath her with the eyes like moss and angled jaw and fuzzy eyebrows and messy hair wanted her. Leon would always want Honey. At 23. At 25. At 36 and 43 and 57. For now they were just getting re-started.

Tag list: @robertsheehanownsmyass @elliethesuperfruitlover @frogs--are--bitches @super-unpredictable98 @slutforrobbiebro @badsext @nightmonsters @bisexualnathanyoung @rob-private

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fics #leon #leon x honey

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nervousmendes · 5 years ago

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Drunken Haze | Shawn Mendes

Shawn x reader (smut)

a/n: this was a failed attempt at writing smut for the first time. (it's very mild, mostly just sexual tension and making out) do check out more of my work on my masterlist right here

summary: Shawn sees the reader at a bar and makes a move.

warnings: mild smut (making out) and very little swearing

Cez does his fair share of research when it comes to choosing a bar to spend the night at, and when you're in Paris (yes, with a French accent) it's totally worth it. Brian walked in first, Shawn and Cez not far behind. "Man I'm so getting shit-faced in here." he sighed as the three of them observed the fancy lights, furniture and wall hangings, taking in the scent of alcohol and cigerettes suspended in in the warm air of the closed space. Cez being the only bright one in the three, quickly spotted an empty booth in the lounge but Shawn's eyes fell straight on a blond haired women, her black dress hugging her hips so well and her toned legs crossed one over the other while she tipped her head back, letting the expensive wine in the glass she was holding flow into her system.

There was something about her that intrigued him. Maybe it was the confidence she radiated, the way she sat with her back poised, the way her silky hair flowed down her shoulders or maybe it had something to do with how her skin glowed in the dim lighting. He felt the urge to approach her, like she pulled him towards her. And it was as if his legs knew what his heart wanted when they started making calculated steps towards the bar counter that she was facing. His thoughts went every which way trying to figure out what to say as he took the stool exactly beside her's, completely ignoring the five (or more) empty stools on his other side.

"Hey." He internally patted himself on the back for sounding a lot more confident than he actually was.

"Do I know you?" Her face broke into a polite smile, and her thick french accent dripped with the words she spoke out of her red stained lips.

"Maybe?"

Too cocky.

"You don't give me a businessman vibe." She said looking at him from head to toe. Looking. She saw the black denim that covered his toned legs, his satin, white shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and the little scar on his cheek that gave his soft facial features a more rugged look. Shawn watched her keenly. His hand went to his hair, fingers pushing a stray curl out of his eye.

"What makes you think I'm a businessman?" He turned in his stool and rested his arm on the bar counter to make her shift her vision from his face to his forearm that flexed under the thin fabric.

"They're usually the cocky ones." He was searching for what to say slightly taken aback by the fact that someone found him cocky, considering that no one has ever called him that before, not in a bad way. He wasn't offended, just surprised. In fact he liked that the whole 'be confident' thing was working.

"But you seem nice, I'll give you that." She chuckled while twirling the empty wine glass in her small hand.

"Will you let me buy you your next drink?"

She considered it, and almost nodded yes for affirmation but then her brows drew in an L shape. "I think I've already had too much to drink." She was mentally trying to count how many times the bartender filled her glass with Chartreuse.

"So why don't you tell me your name, mysterious, handsome, American man?" She said leaning close to him. The already deep cut neck line of her dress plunged down even further, dangerously low, making Shawn draw in a sharp breath through his mouth.

"I love mysterious and handsome, but I'm actually Canadian." He narrowed his eyes at her with a smirk and she couldn't help but smile.

"And nice to meet you, I'm Shawn. Et toi?"

"I can tell you skipped your french classes often back in school." She broke into a chuckle, making Shawn grin right back at her, his face very close to hers.

"You know nothing about me, but I'm afraid this one's true." He whispered, his minty breath fanning her face. She laughed again while placing her hand on Shawn's toned bicep that was rested on the countertop.

"You're funny." Her gaze burned into him.

"I wasn't even trying." Liar.

"I'm guessing that's a lie." They never broke eye contact.

"For someone that guesses a lot, you're pretty accurate."

"You know nothing about me." She said just like he did a minute ago, her lips almost grazing his making sure to not touch them. What a tease.

"How about," the tips of his calloused fingers went to her bare shoulder, "I start with knowing what those pretty lips of yours taste like?" and stroked the soft, supple skin on her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

"That's a good start." She inched closer.

"So is that a yes?"

Instead of giving him an answer, she touched his lips with hers, hands going to either side of his neck. He covered her mouth with his, tasting the expensive alcohol she had been drinking all night. He nudged closer to get a better angle, his large hands taking purchase on her waist. Their tongues danced with each other's, deepening the kiss. He moaned under his breath when she licked the roof of his mouth, and he used that as an opportunity to suck on her lower lip. Her nails scratched his scalp, tangling her fingers in his long, soft curls and she quickly figured how much he liked it from the way he kissed her harder in response to tugging his hair. She broke the kiss for air, he assumed but then when he pulled her in again, she opened her mouth to speak.

"I live only ten minutes away, let's get out of here." She was breathing heavily. He nodded and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before getting off the stool and helping her down shortly after. He left a quick text to Brian asking them to carry on with whatever they were upto and rolled his eyes at Brian's response telling him to "not bust that nut too quick". They got in an Uber and sat beside each other, lips red and swollen, breath heavy, and their thoughts everywhere. They didn't say a word to each other. They didn't know what to say but they were both trying to reach out for some sort of connection. She cleared her throat in an attempt to gather the right words before she spoke. Her eyes were set on her hands that played with the hem of her dress.

"Is now a good time to tell you.." He looked up at her, signalling for her to go on. She gulped, "that I actually know who you are, and I acted like I didn't because I didn't want you think of me as someone who would see you as an object just because you're a celebrity." She made air quotes on the word 'celebrity', like it was such a weird thing to say, a word that gives a human, with a little fame they never knew was coming their way, the title of an object.

"That is the best decision you ever made. If I knew you knew I'm sure I wouldn't even have made a move. You have no idea how glad I am that you did that."

She finally dropped the hem of her dress and looked back at him through her long eyelashes. That was it, there was no holding back anymore. Shawn's lips crashed into hers and she kissed his mouth back with that much force, curling her fingers into the collar of his shirt. His one hand went around her waist, palm flat against the small of her back, and the other was tangled in her beautiful, blond locks.

Their lips didn't leave other's even while unlocking the door, and just like you see in the movies, they kissed their way into her bedroom until Shawn's legs hit the cot and his butt landed on the soft spring mattress of her bed. She kicked off her heels and threw one leg to his other side, her knees on either side of his legs, straddling him. His hands slid down from her waist to fill his palms with the flesh of her toned bum. He cooed as he kneaded them with every movement she made sitting right on top his hard-on that strained his tight denims. Shawn drew his lips away from her mouth to leave wet kisses down her jawline and along the expanse of her throat. He attached his lips to the spot under her ear and sucked on the skin there, causing a shivering moan to tumble down her plump lips. He explored her neck and her chest with his hungry lips, tasting the lavender flavour of the soap she lathered on herself earlier that evening. Somewhere along kissing and a lot of exploring later, all the clothing they helped each other get rid of were scattered on the floor, sweat covered bodies moulding and crashing to give each other the climax they longed for.

(I cannot write smut for shit so I cut the crap out and got to the point.)

She woke up to the warmth of the sun shining on her golden skin through the half drawn blinds, feeling a mild headache from all that she had to drink the previous night. That's when she remembered him. She jutted her head out of her pillow to see that his clothes weren't on the floor anymore. She shifted under the sheets to find an empty bed beside her and a post it note neatly placed in the centre, exactly where he slept. She took it in her hand, squinting until she could read what it said.

Sorry, I left without saying goodbye. I'm playing a show today and I have to be there early. Last night was really fun. x

- S.M

Her lips formed a shy smile and her cheeks were tinged a shade of red as she recollected the events of last night. She folded the piece of paper in her hand contemplating whether she had to throw it or save it. She looked down at it one more time, and that's when she noticed that something was written on the other side. She turned the post-it around, to find a phone number written on it and under it he'd written, "maybe I'm glad I didn't say goodbye".

She laughed to herself, carefully placing the paper in her journal, already excited by the idea of seeing him again. She met Shawn less than twenty four hours ago and hardly knew anything about him, but there something about him that drew her in, made her want to get to know him better and of course feel that pretty mouth of his between her legs once again.

_______________________________________________

I'm thinking maybe I'll do a part 2 to this so let me know what you think. Hope you liked this one. Reply to this or leave me a message if you want to get added to my taglist!!

#shawn mendes #shawnblr #shawn mendes fanfiction #fanfic #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes imagines #shawn x reader #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes tumblr

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fan-fantasies · 4 years ago

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Hi hon bun, wanted to try out this ship thing lol, seemed cool. Can I get a ship with bts, nct 127 and ateez?? Sfw and nsfw, any would work. I'm a 5'8/174cm half Indian half Russian girl. I'm also an infp, tauras. I'm mostly a quiet, RBF owning fam but from what I've heard from others is that I'm a big bowl of tiny and mush (if not kept my height into the perspective) also I'm a very hopeless romantic type. I hope this will be fine thanks! Have a great day, stay healthy and hydrated!!!

hey @yasmann2003 ! Thank you so much for your request! I’m so glad you requested, it means a lot! I hope you enjoy what I have for you. <3 ~Breezy

Yoongi

My gut says that you would work well with Yoongi, it would be adorable if you ask me. I think your quiet personality would be what he seemed drawn to, and the resting bitch face you always seemed to have. It would make him curious mainly because he thought he always had one as well.

Over the course of knowing each other seeing a different side of you, specifically that you were a hopeless romantic, he would think it’s pretty adorable. We all know Yoongi loves to amerce himself in his work, always working and doing his best to just keep up with that. Both of you being an introvert would likely work well too because all you two would want to do is just be in each other's company.

The next thing, I think having found someone that matches his height wouldn’t particularly bother him. The other members would likely tease him, as they usually do with him and Jimin, but he would just know that he honestly had found someone that he could enjoy spending his life with.

Now after writing this, all I can think about is you and Yoongi sitting in his studio, just another day to be honest. He would be sitting at his computer, working hard on something he had yet to show you. You would be sitting on the couch in the background, trying to keep yourself occupied mainly so you wouldn’t feel the urge to want to distract him from his work. He could easily get cranky when someone does that but you could understand why. You would be caught off guard when he would softly speak to you, asking you to come over, a set of headphones in his hands, you weren’t sure what he was gonna have you do. You would do as he said, he would let you sit on his lap and place the headset over your ears. He wanted you to hear what he was working on, though you may not have been really well versed in the production of music, he wanted your feedback. So of course, you did, listening to the beat and any lyrics that had been incorporated, if any, and you couldn’t help but smile through the entire thing. Listening to what he could do always made you so happy, you knew that this brought him joy. You would tell him everything you feel and you could tell that he would take all your words and remember them. You would prepare to get off his lap but he would stop you, he would hold you close and proceed to work. I can also just imagine, you would be sitting on his lap as he worked and one of the members, likely RM, would walk in quietly to ask him something and would see the two of you. RM would likely freeze but leave you both alone, but the maknae line would likely squeal and then run away giggling. It would startle you both, but I feel like Yoongi would just kinda roll his eyes and get back to work.

Taeyong

Now hear me out. His goal is to always make you smile. He would see you have a RBF, once he saw that he would make it his goal to make you smile and giggle so that any time you’re around him he wouldn’t have to see it. Not that he didn’t like it, he would think you look adorable that way, especially with pursed lips. I also think he might tease you about it, mainly to see if it would make you smile, if he succeeded he would have the biggest and goofiest smile on his face mainly cause he would be so happy to be able to see you in such a happy state.

I feel like he would love that you’re a hopeless romantic, he would love to be like that with you. He would do anything to make you as happy as he could mainly because he likes to look in your eyes. The sparkle that would appear when he would do something sweet or when he would manage to take you on a cute date. As an idol, it would be hard for him to do things with you, especially if the relationship was still a secret. I think that it would stay a secret for a while mainly because he wanted to keep you safe because he knew how fans could be. Taeyong would worry that the attention would make you uncomfortable or potentially scare you away. So you both of you would go on really late night dates, usually late-night walks or picnics in areas that not many people knew about. Or a sweet date at your apartment. It would just be so wholesome I can’t even handle it.

I also think Taeyong would slowly break you out of your shell, he knew you were quiet but he would try his best to try to get you to speak more. Even if it was just around his friends. He would really want you to speak with his group members so that they could see just how amazing you were. It would be a slow process, probably introducing you to one or two of the more calm members who weren’t extremely chaotic. He knew that his group could be a bit over the top but he had honestly warned you about that. He also wouldn’t leave you side, keep that in mind, cause he wouldn’t dare leave you just encase you got overwhelmed, especially when you first meet them. Over time he would hope that the others would treat you with kindness and not be too overbearing. I feel like they would absolutely love you, and while you weren’t around, would likely tease Taeyong about silly things.

Yunho

Yunho would absolutely love you, I feel. That man is an absolute puppy and, much like Taeyong, would honestly live to see you smile and be happy. I can’t say I have ever seen that man not smiling or being an adorable bean unless he’s performing but even then he’s adorable. He would absolutely be at your side as much as he could because he just loves being close to you.

You’re sitting on the couch? He would have his arm either wrapped around you or have you sitting on his lap so you could cuddle into his chest. Sitting at dinner with the other members? He’s holding your hand under the table. You haven’t seen each other all day? You bet he would rush to you and just embrace you in the tightest of hugs. I don’t think he would be against pda around his friends, he would be all for it as well. He would always be trying to hold your hand or hold you close, the other members didn’t mind this. I think they would become so used to it they would just kinda dismiss it.

Your quiet nature would also intrigue him a lot too. I see him being fairly outgoing, not as much as Wooyoung or San, but he would love trying to help get you out to try and do things. Whether it be bringing you to one of their concert, or something simple like a late-night movie where he knew you wouldn’t get caught together. He would understand that sometimes it was draining but he would want you to experience new things, especially if it was with him.

I also feel like if your relationship became public, whether it be on purpose or by accident, he would want you to always be with him. If he could and was aloud too he would bring you to award shows. He would love seeing you all dressed up. He would want you to match with you, making those who see you jealous because you were looking so beautiful. He would also just openly hold your hand, for both comforts and just loving having you around. He would gently squeeze your hand if he sensed you were anxious. He would want you to be comfortable. I also think that the other members would want the same thing too, mainly because you would be such good friends with them. So if for some reason you were bombarded, they would all be by your side. They would see how Yunho looks at you, they would want you to stick around and wouldn’t want you to be scared off. So they would protect you, just as much as he would.

#bts imagines #bts ships #Yoongi imagines #min Yoongi imagine #suga imagine #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 ships #Taeyong imagine #lee Taeyong imagine #ateez imagines #ateez ships #yunho imagines #Jeong Yunho imagine #kpop imagines #kpop ships #kpop headcanons #imagines #ship requests #requests open

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roboticonography · 5 years ago

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I've always wondered, in FWNL, how Steve and Peggy part when she leaves to go to school, and what Steve thinks of Peggy forging a new path in a new world. Any insight you might have?

So I know that you sent this ask approximately a billion years ago, but here’s the thing: I liked this prompt a little too much.

Because in FWNL, Steve and Peggy leave things on an uncertain note when she leaves for school - in part because of everything that’s going on in Steve’s world that he can’t talk about.

But I couldn’t stop thinking of how they might have said goodbye, if things had been a little different. So here’s what I came up with, which is basically an AU of an AU.

=======

The Nearness of You

The night before she’s due to leave, Steve takes Peggy to a free movie night, at a park in his neighbourhood.

He knows a lot of people would give him low marks for being cheap and unoriginal, but the only person he wants to impress doesn’t seem to mind.

He meets her at the subway station, because she wants to try navigating on her own.

Right on time, she ascends the stairs, elegant, unhurried. Her simple wrap dress is the green of summer grass, with a pattern of sunny yellow flowers; her shoes and her handbag are the same glossy red as her lipstick. It’s a combination of colours that shouldn’t work, but on Peggy, it’s perfect.

When he asks if she had any trouble with the train, she arches an eyebrow and reminds him, “I used to live in Brooklyn, you know.”

And it’s true that she walks with the air of someone who belongs there. But then, she’s like that everywhere she goes—in stark contrast to Steve, who couldn’t blend in with a crowd if his life depended on it.

On the way over, they pass an ice cream shop that Steve has seen mentioned online. It’s supposed to be good, and the line inside is short; on a whim, he suggests a detour.

The place happens to be next door to a donut shop, and the two have conspired to make donut ice cream sandwiches.

Something Steve has always admired about Peggy is her enthusiasm for eating. Since her return, he’s been making mental lists of foods in the new century that he wants to introduce her to. A donut ice cream sandwich hasn’t been on his radar, until just this moment.

He watches Peggy spend almost a full minute ogling them in the freezer case before concluding, with a profoundly sad sigh, “I don’t think I could manage it.” It’s the same wistful look she used to have during the war, when talking about meat and milk and real chocolate, not the chalky clay tile issued by the army.

“Let’s split one,” he offers. “You pick.”

After further and even more intense deliberation, she selects a decadent red velvet cake donut, with a cream cheese ice cream centre.

They decide not to risk eating outside; the sun is going down, but the evening is still sultry, and neither of them are in the mood to race the clock. They find a table by the window.

Steve is so busy watching Peggy smooth the softening edges of the treat with her tongue that he lets his half melt down his arm all the way to his elbow.

He blows through their entire supply of napkins trying to wipe off the sticky mess.

He thinks she’s amused; it’s still a little hard to tell sometimes, but he’s gradually remembering how to read her face.

“Aw.” He frowns comically. “Now no one’s gonna want to hold my hand.”

He means to be cute and flirty, but he can tell by the way her expression changes that he’s caught her off guard, maybe embarrassed her a little.

Changing the subject quickly, he asks, “Are you all packed for your big trip?”

“Yes. It’s remarkably easy, when you don’t own anything. Which reminds me, I ought to give you back your books.”

“That’s okay. You hang onto them.”

She doesn’t look pleased. He thinks he knows why: she doesn’t like owing a debt.

“You might need some of them for school. I’ll get ‘em back the next time you’re in town,” he adds.

“All right.” She takes a bite of the ice cream sandwich and it falls apart in her hand, half of it dropping straight down the front of her dress. “Oh, hell.”

Steve goes to get more napkins.

“There’s really no dignified way to do this,” she observes, one hand delving into her décolletage. He catches an eyeful of milky skin and ivory lace before it occurs to him to look out the window instead of staring like a caveman.

“I like your dress,” he says, because things weren’t awkward enough already.

Peggy grins. “Now that I’ve drawn attention to its best feature?”

He grins back, but says only, “Green’s a nice colour on you.”

“Thank you.” She dabs delicately at her neckline. “I rather think so too.”

Another thing he’s always admired about Peggy: her way of accepting compliments by agreeing with them. As if she arrived at the same conclusion ages ago, and has just been waiting for everyone else to finally catch up.

When they get to the park, he sees couples unfolding colourful blankets or matching beach chairs, pulling out bags of snacks and bottles of water. He wishes he’d planned a little better. He has to settle for spreading his windbreaker on the ground so Peggy won’t get her dress dirty. There isn’t enough room on it for two of them, but that’s fine; after such a hot day, it’s nice to lean back on his elbows and stretch out in the cool grass.

The movie is an animated feature about the secret lives of toys. It seems good—people in the audience are laughing—but he’s completely lost. He spends all his time either gazing at Peggy, or looking blankly ahead with a keen awareness of her body beside his.

The sky above them fades into shadow.

He doesn’t realize he’s dozing off until Peggy gasps. He startles awake just in time to catch her face in profile, lit up, staring raptly at the screen. His heart feels weightless, suspended in his chest.

She turns, as if sensing his gaze. “Are you laughing at me?”

He tries, and fails, to wipe the dopey smile off his face. “No, ma’am.”

She fake-glares at him, nudging his knee with her elbow before turning back to the movie.

The next time he wakes, it’s because she’s shaking his shoulder gently.

He sits up, slightly groggy. The film’s end credits are rolling. People are packing up, chairs in hand, sleepy children on their shoulders.

He can’t believe he fell asleep in the middle of a date. He’s lucky she didn’t just go home and leave him there.

He rubs his face briskly, trying to wake himself up. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Her eyes and her mouth have gone very soft. “You must have needed a rest.”

There’s so much he wants to tell her, in that moment. But all he can do is nod. “How’d you like the movie?”

She smiles, cheeks dimpling. “Brilliant.”

He helps her to her feet, then scoops up his jacket. He’s about to put it on when she stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Hold still.” She bats at his back. “You look as though you’ve been rolling in the grass.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It does.” Her hand slows, softens. “Under the right circumstances.”

Steve can’t think of anything appropriate to say to that.

They make their way to the edge of the park, walking slower than usual.

Her hand brushes his. He thinks it might be an accident, at first. The second time she does it, he takes hold of her fingers—loosely, giving her plenty of ease to slip away.

She steps closer, presses her palm firmly against his.

They hold hands all the way to the entrance to the subway, where Peggy lets go to fish her fare card out of her handbag.

He offers to see her back to SHIELD.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She’s clearly pleased. “It’s got to be out of your way.”

The truth is, his place is a five-minute walk from where they’re now standing. “Maybe a little,” he concedes.

“You can ride along until I have to transfer.”

“Deal.”

On the train, they sit shoulder to shoulder—at Steve’s size, it’s impossible not to. After a couple of stops, he drapes his arm over the back of Peggy’s seat. It’s mostly to give her more room, though of course that’s not the only reason. If it’s not okay, he’s sure she’ll let him know.

One more stop passes.

“We should do this again,” he suggests. “When you’re back in town.”

“I’ve no idea when that will be.”

“That’s okay. It’ll keep.”

He’s not sure exactly what it refers to, but Peggy nods, as though what he’s just said makes perfect sense.

And then she leans into his side, and they make the rest of the trip that way, quietly together.

In the station, the silence between them turns awkward. It’s a lousy place to say goodnight: it’s crowded, the air is humid and stale, and there’s a busking saxophonist whose enthusiasm far outstrips his technique.

Steve settles for a cavalier, “Text me when you get home, yeah?”

She gives a dramatic, full-body sigh. “Must I?”

He chuckles. “I don’t need a whole message. Just proof of life. An emoji is fine.”

“Is that the… smiley face thing?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll give it a go. But I won’t promise anything.”

As her train screeches its approach, he hugs her, one arm across her shoulders. She slides a hand around his waist, presses her face to his collarbone; her breath, through his shirt, is warm on his skin. Her hair is raw silk, and smells like springtime. His eyes are closed. He thinks hers are, too.

He doesn’t realize how long they’ve been holding one another until she pulls away, murmuring, “I’ll miss the train.”

Steve is afraid of what’s going to come out of his mouth if he opens it. So he just smiles, squeezes her hand once more, and lets her go.

After seeing her off, he takes the steps up to the street two at a time, and walks the eight miles home at a brisk clip. His heart is soaring.

It won’t be easy to be apart, of course—but unlike during the war, there’s a timeframe, and an understanding between them. It’s easier to stay in touch. And it’s not like she’ll be on the other side of the world; she might even invite him to visit her, once she’s settled.

Her text arrives about an hour after he gets home. It consists solely and entirely of the letter S.

He waits, for several minutes, watching the typing indicator fade in and out of view. At last, the full message pops up: Safe and sound.

Get some rest, he writes back. Big day tomorrow.

He’s already put his phone back on the nightstand when it whistles again. No words—just a sleepy snoring face emoji.

To Steve, it feels like nothing short of a miracle.

#steggy #steve rogers #peggy carter #FWNL #FWNL 2.0 #robofic #7l14128sa

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resident-curse-breaker · 4 years ago

Text

The Bancroft Bloodline

Hello, everyone!

As some of you may know, I’ve previously written two one-shots exploring the relationship between my MC, Nellie Bancroft, and Barnaby Lee. I’ve decided to expand those one-shots into a collection of stories where I develop Nellie’s character by exploring her relationships with other characters. So far, I’ve got ideas for stories centering on her relationships with Rowan Khanna, Skye Parkin, Erika Rath, and Talbott Winger.

The most recent addition is a vignette revolving around her relationship with Jacob, which is arguably one of the most important relationships in her life. Below the cut, you’ll find the link to the collection on AO3. The collection is titled Breaker of Curses, Dueler of Knights, and includes both Names Scrawled in the Margins of Spellbooks, the Barnaby-centric stories, and The Bancroft Bloodline, which focuses on Jacob. You’ll also find the entire first chapter of The Bancroft Bloodline, shared here on Tumblr for those who don’t want to go offsite.

I’d absolutely love if you’d give it a read, and I’m always looking for feedback. Thank you so much for your time!

Breaker of Curses, Dueler of Knights: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901170

The Bancroft Bloodline

Jacob Bancroft considered himself quite good at making snap judgments.

He had to be, in his line of work. In the world of curse-breaking, there was seldom time to carefully analyze every small aspect of a scene or situation. If action had to be taken, it had to be taken quickly. So, he learned to make his assessments in mere seconds, and deal with whatever the consequences may be later. As long as he got out of the main problem in one piece, he could worry about solving the others that may sprout up further down the line. It had become a bit of a habit.

So when he saw his little sister in that Vault, laying eyes on her for the first time in seven long years, he gave her the same perfunctory scan he gave everything else. She had grown taller, though not by much, and her face had yet to lose that youthful roundness. She was still growing her hair out; the flaxen locks were tied in a thick braid long enough for her to sit on. She was dressed in clothes unlike any he'd ever seen her wear—garments made of thick leather, with a chest plate and a shoulder pad—but then, she was venturing into a Cursed Vault. Perhaps it was smart to dress for the occasion. Certainly better than tromping around in her Hogwarts robes. She was still wearing the locket he'd given her, all those years ago, the silver seashell resting against her sternum.

She hadn't changed a bit.

It had been a matter of instinct, giving her that once over, and even as he did it, he hadn't truly registered what he was seeing. It seemed impossible, to think that after all these years of regretting and missing and loving, Nellie was standing right there, only feet away.

"Pip," he breathed, hardly daring to believe it, and she whipped around to face him. The wave of emotion that seemed to hit her at the sight of him was enough to make her stumble back, hands flying to cover her mouth.

"Jacob!" she whimpered, and, recovering, ran over to the portrait. She pressed her palms against the canvas, and Jacob dropped down to his knees, lining his hands up with hers, wishing more than anything that he could grab them and soothe her. Goodness, her hands were still so small. Nellie looked up, and seeing him so close made her face crumple, tears pouring openly down her cheeks. She sobbed, and just like that, Jacob was thrown back to being seventeen, newly expelled and purposeless.

He'd hardly left his room since he'd been sent home. His mothers didn't seem to know how to talk to him, and he was sure they had been urging Nellie away from him as well. He could hear them at night, arguing downstairs when they thought he was asleep. They didn't know what to do with him. It was fair, he supposed. He didn't know quite what to do with himself either.

Then he'd gotten Rakepick's letter.

He had spent a long time grappling with the contents of that letter. Deep down, he'd known he shouldn't accept her offer. Working for her and her allies, it had brought only bloodshed. First poor, sweet Olivia. Then Duncan. Getting sent home could've been a chance to try and sever those ties, get his life back on a track that was normal and safe. But of course, Jacob couldn't accept a comfortable life. He wanted a life of glory. He wanted to be powerful. He'd been such a foolish boy.

He could still remember the way his bedroom door creaked as it opened, and the sound of Nellie's little voice calling his name from the doorway. She'd been only eight, then, so small and vulnerable. Too young to understand why his homecoming had brought frustration and anguish, rather than joy. She didn't understand the weight of his expulsion, or the conversations her mothers had that always seemed to die out when she walked in the room, or the reason her big brother had barely said a single word to her since he came home. All she understood was that she'd missed him while he was gone, and she wanted to spend time with him now that he was here.

All she had done was ask if she could show him her new doll, the one mama had stitched up just for her.

And he'd exploded. He'd screamed at her for everything that had gone wrong, and for nothing at all. He screamed at her for things that were not her doing. He screamed at her for not understanding, for daring to come into his room while he was thinking, for wasting his time. He'd screamed at her until his voice gave out, and only then did he turn to look at her, chest heaving and face red with exertion.

More than anything, he remembered the way she'd looked at him in that moment. Her face drained of color, and her shaking hands hugged to her chest. Her eyes wide and damp with tears, looking at him not only with fear, but with a complete lack of recognition. In that moment, gazing up at him, she didn't recognize her beloved brother at all, and Jacob knew it. His heart had immediately sunk into the pit of his stomach, but when he reached to try and comfort her, she'd burst into tears and ran away. She'd been afraid of him. No matter how hard he tried, Jacob couldn't seem to forget how terrible that felt. In that moment, he'd failed every responsibility afforded to him as an older brother. His quest for power had turned him into someone his baby sister couldn't trust.

Starting his search for the Vaults was the biggest mistake of his life, but the second biggest mistake was undoubtedly the one he made that night: deciding that he wouldn't be able to put aside his quest—and become the sort of brother he wanted to be—until he'd succeeded. Once he found the Vaults, sating his curiosity and ridding him of his awful jealousy, he would finally be able to move on.

He'd left the very same night.

And look where that had gotten him. Trapped for years, without ever being able to amend the countless mistakes he had made. Look where it had gotten Nellie, seemingly led down the same crooked path that he had walked, filled with the same anguish he'd forced upon her seven years ago.

That was his little sister, sobbing on the other side of the portrait, bruised and shaking and so very vulnerable, and it was all his fault. Tears pricked at the back of Jacob's eyes, and he clenched his jaw, refusing to let himself break down. He was going to fix this. He was going to do right by her now, to make up for every time he had ever done her wrong. He tilted his head, trying to meet her eyes, and gave her the gentlest smile he could manage.

"It's alright, Pip. It's alright," he soothed, struggling to keep his voice steady. He glanced past her, to the column, and then met her gaze once more. "I need you to touch the column, okay? Then I'll be right there." Nellie looked over her shoulder at the column, like she'd forgotten it was there, then pulled away, wiping her nose with a small sniffle.

"O-Okay. I-I got it." Nellie pushed back her shoulders, forcing herself to stand tall, and crossed over to the column, her every step weighted with purpose. She looked over her shoulder, back up at him—and pressed her hand against the column.

It felt as though air filled Jacob's lungs for the very first time, like he hadn't drawn a breath in years. He took a big gulp of it, of that brand new air, and fell through the the canvas like it was water. He landed on his feet, wobbling, and he barely had time to steady himself before Nellie launched herself into his arms. He almost dissolved, then, holding her so close and feeling her weight in his arms, but he pulled himself back. She needed him. He couldn't break apart now.

"Let me look at you," Jacob whispered, planting his hands on Nellie's shoulders and pulling her back just enough to scan her over, one more time. He huffed a breathless laugh, shaking his head, then pressed a fervent kiss to her forehead. "God, Pip—you haven't changed a bit!" There was so much he wanted to say. He'd had seven years to plan everything he wanted to tell her, but in this critical moment, every carefully constructed sentence had fled his mind.

"You either," Nellie choked out, gazing up at him, before breaking down into another sob, "Oh, Jacob, I've—I've missed you. I've missed you so much." She shook her head, clinging desperately to his arms. "Everything's so twisted and wrong, it's all such a mess—" The relief that overwhelmed Jacob began to give away to unease, his brow furrowing. He was happier than anything that they were finally reunited, happier than anything that he was free...but what was she doing here?

"Hey, hey, shh," Jacob murmured, reaching with a shaking hand to smooth Nellie's hair back from her face, "Whatever's wrong, we can figure it out—"

"I'm sorry I didn't open the door!" Jacob paused, blinking at her a few times in confusion. Nellie wept, not even able to look him in the eye. "Th-The night you left. I didn't open the d-door. I'm so—I'm so sorry, Jacob!" Oh. Oh. That dreadful night, after he'd exploded and destroyed his family with the shrapnel of his rage, he'd tried to go and talk to her, to tell her he was sorry and reassure her that he was someone she could trust. But no matter how much he'd knocked, or how gently he spoke, Nellie hadn't responded, and she certainly hadn't opened the door. Had she been holding onto that, all these years?

"Nellie—" Before he could finish his sentence, however, the sound of oncoming feet made him spin towards the entryway, instinctively throwing out an arm to shield her. Two redheaded boys, one tall and lanky and the other short and stocky, raced in, both of them seeming to relax at the sight of Nellie. Still, Jacob didn't drop his arm. "Who're these two chaps, Pip?" Nellie sniffled, clumsily wiping at her face with the palms of her hands. The sight of them seemed to have jarred her back to the present, reminding her of the circumstances that had gotten her here. There was no time for tears.

"These are my friends, Bill and Charlie Weasley," she introduced, keeping her voice as steady as she could and stepping out around Jacob, branching the gap between them, "They helped me get here."

"Well, then they have my gratitude, that's for sure," Jacob responded in a frail attempt at levity, giving both boys a tight smile. They both stared, as though they couldn't quite believe what they were seeing.

"So, that's him?" the taller one asked, voice uncertain, "That's Jacob Bancroft?" Nellie turned towards him once more, her smile radiant in spite of the dampness of her eyes.

"That's Jacob Bancroft," she confirmed, voice soft with wonder, before the arrival of two more strangers, a boy and a girl, caught her attention. "Merula!" she gasped, darting over to the girl, who was leaning heavily on the boy, her face twisted in pain, "You should be resting!" On instinct, Jacob reached for his wand, a dozen healing spells on his tongue.

"What happened to her?"

"It was Rakepick," Nellie answered, voice growing tight as she wrapped one of the girl's arms around her shoulder, helping to prop her up, "She used the Cruciatus curse on her, we have to—"

"Rakepick?" Jacob interjected, eyes darkening, "She's here?" That vile banshee. It was all falling into place now. Jacob had failed her, so she'd turned to the second best option. She'd preyed on his little sister, used her the same way she'd used him, brought her here, into this place of unbelievable danger, to serve her own needs.

"Well, no, not—not anymore," Nellie fumbled, caught off guard by the intensity of his voice, "She Disapparated—"

"Just now?" She wouldn't get away with this. He wouldn't let her. She'd taken his ambition and corrupted it. She had twisted him until he was unrecognizable, and disposed of his two only friends as soon as they were of no use to her. She had torn his family apart, ripped him away from them, and now she had turned her wicked gaze onto the one person Jacob had wanted to protect above all. Jacob was going to take her down. He was going to turn her into ash, and ensure that she never sunk her claws into anyone else.

"Just a minute ago," the shorter redhead confirmed, glancing at Nellie, and Jacob gave a low growl.

"I have to go after her," he muttered, almost more to himself than to them, stalking past the group and pulling his wand from its sheath at his hip, "I might still be able to catch up with her, if I'm fast enough."

"Wait!" Nellie gasped, and in spite of himself, Jacob felt his expression soften as he turned to face her. "Take me with you," she pleaded, voice just about breaking, "I can help!" Jacob's chest tightened. She was such a noble girl. She had been since she was just a small child, always taking the blame for his missteps and shielding him from the worst of their mum's disappointment.

"This is my fight," Jacob said gently, walking over and taking her round, young face in his hands, "It's too dangerous for you to get involved.

"You can't leave again! You can't!" Nellie protested frantically, panic settling in her chest like a bird in a cage that was far too small, beating its wings against the bars, "I only just got you back! There's so much I need to ask you—"

"And there will be time later," Jacob stated firmly, leaning in to press one last kiss to Nellie's forehead, "I'll find you, Pip. I promise. And then we'll have all the time in the world." He pulled back, out of reach of Nellie's hands, reaching desperately for him. "Keep your head down, and stay safe," he commanded, looking steadily into her eyes, "I'll find you when this is all over." And with a loud pop, he was gone.

Fortunately, Jacob left just a minute too early to see Nellie break down entirely. He missed, by only a moment, Bill Weasley pulling her into his arms in a way not unlike Jacob had. Into an embrace not unlike that of an older brother.

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