#oh! you had the day off right (i think. its black friday today right-)

[lightseoul]

Congratulations!!! 🎉🎊 How about #5? 🫣

thank you, love! tagging also @tsunderelover07; thank you for playing <3

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

warnings. includes themes concerning depression; negative affect in general. read at your own risk.

5. "I'M NOT LEAVING SO GET USED TO ME." (1.3k)

ever since who-knows-when, the goal has always been simple.

pain alleviation.

at least, in theory, it sounds simple. when you think about it, it’s nothing like the seemingly insurmountable task of getting a master’s degree, neither is it as grandiose as finally finding a partner and settling down.

but for someone like you?

well, it’s the best you can muster on most if not all, days, really.

and today’s a textbook example of that.

you squint at the small text displayed on your phone screen, the blue light hurting your eyes in the darkness that’s enveloping the entirety of your studio unit. the clock reads 6:08 PM, but the lack of light cannot be credited to the sun’s waning presence—your black-out curtains have been drawn since, what… yesterday?

the past few days have gone by in a complete blur, you’ve lost track of which day it is.

you’re about to put your phone down in favor of stewing in your bed and debating whether or not you have the energy to order yourself some dinner when your phone chimes its familiar ringtone, indicating a text message.

picking it up, you recognize the id right away.

(6:09 PM) katsuki💥: Omw. Want me to pick anything up by the store?

shit.

now you know it’s a friday.

mustering the little strength you have left, you type out a reply as quickly as you can. before you can think twice about what you just wrote down, you hit send.

(6:10 PM) you: actually, can i take a rain check? i don’t think i’m the best company rn.

sighing, you finally place your device beside you, opting to stare at the off-white ceiling.

you hope bakugou actually listens to you for once and doesn’t press like he usually does. when you first met him in the same agency you both interned for three years ago, you instantly caught wind of how mind-bogglingly stubborn the guy is. but it wasn’t until you became great friends, strangely enough, that you realized the extent of his tenacity. you never thought you’d end up being best friends with the budding hero you found yourself disliking since day—

your train of thought is rudely interrupted by your stomach growling, and you decide then and there that the one thing you can do to alleviate your pain for today is to feed yourself.

you repress the urge to groan in pain as you slowly sit up and move to shimmy your feet into your slippers.

but you don’t even get to reach your kitchen when the telltale sound of your lock clicking echoes through your foyer, almost instantly followed by the door bursting wide open.

you know you should be alarmed, but there’s only one person who can and has the audacity to use your sole spare key without your explicit permission.

still, you don’t fight the frown that takes over your face as you haul yourself to the doorway, watching the man closely as he toes off his trainers and puts them neatly beside your everyday sandals, nonchalant as ever.

“i thought i told you i’m taking a rain check,” you immediately cringe at how rough your voice sounds from unuse.

bakugou stands upright, placing what looks like a bag of groceries on top of your kitchen counter before rounding you and approaching the windows like he owns the place.

“you asked me if you can,” he shoots back as he opens your curtains. “the answer is no.”

a familiar surge of anger pulses through your body. you clench your fists in an attempt to ground yourself—you know from experience that mouthing off on your best friend would do nothing to lessen your pain even if it seems oh-so appealing at the moment.

“…well, don’t expect me to host you. i actually had other plans tonight.”

“is that so?” comes his signature snarky reply, the man turning to regard you. “does your plan include starving yourself ‘til you fall asleep?”

your frown deepens. “i was just about to order dinner before you showed up.” you debate for a second whether you should say the next thing, ultimately deciding fuck it. “now i don’t have an appetite anymore.”

that was a blatant lie. you’re famished, but he doesn’t need to know that. you just needed to be alone right now.

bakugou’s face hardens at your retort. his jaw clenches ever so slightly, in a way that tells you he’s trying to be patient but is getting frustrated.

when he doesn’t say anything, you shuffle back to your bed and sit on the edge of it, ready to wait him out on his exit.

but bakugou katsuki isn’t anything if not stubborn.

“i heard from mina you called in sick again today,” comes his gruff voice.

damn your closest girl friend turned co-worker and her running mouth.

“so?”

bakugou sighs from where he’s now standing in front of and looking at you. “how many leaves do you have left?”

at the mention of it, your stomach drops in dread. an all-too-familiar pulse of anxiety also shoots through your veins. “…two.”

two sick leaves left, and it’s only motherfucking july.

silence befalls the two of you, but it’s not the comfortable kind that usually lulls you both whenever you’re alone in each other’s presence. no, this quiet is borderline irritating, and you can practically hear the gears turning in the man’s head as he processes the fact you’ve been trying to grapple with yourself for the last few weeks now.

the fact that you’re absolutely fucked.

before he can comment on your situation or say anything uselessly placating, you pipe up. “but don’t worry about me. i know you have a lot on your plate right now.”

at that, bakugou scoffs, and your features instinctively contort in annoyance at the sound.

you’re trying to be nice, for god’s sake. something that takes so much of you lately when it used to come naturally your whole life.

you purse your lips in a tight line. “look, if you’re just gonna keep on being an asshole, it’s better if you just leave.”

instead of turning a 180 and giving you your solitude, however, bakugou crouches down on his knees until you’re face to face.

you suddenly become acutely aware of the fact that you haven’t washed your face nor brushed your teeth since yesterday. despite your exasperation with the guy, you hope he doesn’t notice.

if he is noticing, though, he doesn’t mention it. instead, he reaches out and uncharacteristically gently brushes out a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“i’m not leaving, so get used to me.”

with that, he moves to stand up and maybe make his way to the kitchen to cook you dinner, but your reflexes work fast enough for you to grab his wrist before he's out of reach.

bakugou freezes in his tracks, eyes drifting from the grip you have on him to your face, a confused expression etched on his features.

“…just leave, kats,” you barely manage to get out, unable to meet his gaze. “i’m really not the best company right now.”

you brace yourself for another scoff over which you were absolutely going to smack him, but it doesn’t come. instead, bakugou merely coaxes his wrist from your hold before clasping your hands together.

you look up at your best friend, stunned at the rare gesture.

his face is solemn and grip firm when he replies. “don’t i get to be the judge of that?”

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I've had this in my head for like, years, just making itself known every once in a while. Pre-serum Steve and Bucky.

I've seen a lot of that, but they usually write or draw pre-serum Steve being the bottom as if that feisty, asthmatic twig isn't stubborn enough to top. (I prefer top Steve if you couldn't tell)

- ✨️ anon

Yes! Yes! I love me some small feisty top and/or small feisty dom Steve!! I completely agree there needs to be more, I've seen plenty of both myself but I can always get on board with more porn, lmao.

Anyway... this was supposed to just be top pre-serum Steve, set pre-war, but, uh... I ended up blacking out and writing dom pre-serum Steve instead. Also. This ended up being human furniture kink/bondage/edging? So... I don't know how we got here 💀 but please do read it if you're interested because 😮‍💨😮‍💨

It's been a long fucking time since Steve's felt this easy and loose. He's got nothing to do today. It's a good, quiet Saturday and there's no rattle in his chest thanks to the early warm weather that isn't hot and humid enough to trigger his asthma like what tends to happen in the height of Brooklyn summers. Even better, his joints don't really even hurt today 'cause he hasn't done so much walking, cooking, or cleaning. The apartment is neat and tidy around him already. There are no sheets or clothes to launder. Last night, he even was able to steal an hour or so in their communal bathrooms for a mostly warm bath seeing as all the other tenants were out for their Friday night dancing, drinking, or whatever else they do to let off steam that's cheap.

It's a good day.

Light pouring in from their open windows along with the sounds of Brooklyn below their fire escape, the faint murmurs of neighbors through recklessly narrow walls, and the flicking of a thin newspaper with every page he turns. There's also, of course, the noise of his rasping inhales and exhales, accompanied by a slurp here and there of steaming, watered-down coffee from one of their good mugs. Steve can't handle too much caffeine, besides, he'd rather leave the bulk of their scrounged-up coffee grounds for Bucky. He's the one tumbling out of bed in the morning before it's light and usually coming home well after it's dark. And--

Oh, yeah.

That's definitely part of why he's relaxed. Not the coffee, not the clean apartment, not the newspaper (which, really, has nothing he'd like to think too hard about written across its pages, otherwise he's going to ruin his own casual calm), but Bucky.

Bucky is here, too. Just out of sight. But it's alright because Steve can hear--even with one ear that doesn't work so good--the soft, even-yet-ragged-edged breaths of Bucky.

Bucky is keeping him company, not by running his motor mouth about the sci-fi book he's most recently borrowed or talking about his plans for Saturday night, but by keeping quiet and keeping Steve comfortable.

Bucky is being very good and, really, that's the best part of Steve's Saturday afternoon.

Bucky is so good for him beneath his heels. He's still and resilient underneath Steve's feet crossed at the ankle. Just breathing even though Steve knows that he wants to whine and shake and plaster himself against Steve as he usually does when they do things like this. He's not doing any of that, though, because Steve told him sternly not to. Not if he wants to cum today.

He's to be still--as motionless as a piece of furniture. Right now, he's being a very obedient footstool. Earlier, when Steve first made himself a cup of coffee, Steve was considering making him into a pretty coffee table. But, if he did that, then he would miss out on the simple pleasure of feeling each and every subdued tremble of Bucky's body beneath him. Half quivering with unreleased need, just aching to be touched and made to cum, and half quivering with the strain of holding himself perfectly still.

Stillness is a challenge because, well, they've been at this for some time, sensual, easy, clear-headed relaxation for Steve and a syrupy, hot, spaced-out zone for Bucky. That, and, Steve hasn't been easy on him.

First, this morning, after waking entangled in Bucky's arms, Steve used his morning wood against him by stroking him until Bucky was squirming aimlessly against the pleasure and making little sounds in his sleep at how nice his dreams had become. Like that, warm and cuddled together, Steve made sure to go slow and loose with just enough stimulation to make his cock drip sticky, wet smears of pre-cum all across the smooth, flat muscle of his lower belly without rousing him to the real world but still good enough to leave him twitching and making all these precious, eat-me-up whimpers in his sleep.

Then, when he did wake up with a shocked, possessed gasp of sudden pleasure, Steve slithered down underneath their thread-bare blankets to breathe in the hot, humid, heady musk of Bucky's arousal, swallowing him down as much as he could. Sucking him and sucking him and sucking him until he was dizzy and he'd already had to squeeze his fist around the base of Bucky's cock twice. Bucky didn't get to cum this morning, leaving his cock angry and his balls heavy and swollen but drawn up, convinced they'd be allowed to cum sooner rather than later. Cute. Bucky didn't cum. But, Steve did. He rutted against Bucky's aching, weeping, red-hot cock until he spilled between their bodies. After he was finished dragging out the last smoldering coals of pleasure, he smeared the mess he made into Bucky's skin just because. Just because he can. He wants Bucky to smell like sex. He wants Bucky to not be able to twitch without the scent wafting into his nose and being sucked deep, down into his lungs, reminding him of what filth they've done.

After that, Bucky made them both breakfast. No clothes allowed. His reward for making them a good meal? Another almost-orgasm from Steve. This time, his pleasure and denial came from humping against Steve's leg after he choked down his serving of food without tasting it. He was much too interested in getting four of Steve's fingers in his mouth--shoved down his throat until his eyes watered and his own drool smeared onto his cute cleft chin from choking--after being hand-fed, kneeling on the floor between Steve's lithe, spread thighs. He had to let himself go, be dumb and sweet enough to hump Steve's leg like a dog, his face burning with humiliation and pleasure, mouth hanging open, but be well-trained enough to stop when Steve said stop, reading the signs of his approaching orgasm across his face like an open book. Steve (lightly) kicked him in the chest just to make sure he wouldn't cum--pushing him back from kneeling to spread out on their floor, naked and so hard that Steve could watch, standing, towering, over him as his cock twitched and pulsed in time with his pounding heart. Bucky whimpering the entire time like the kicked puppy he is.

gif by @/zanephillips

Lunch was held in a similar affair except for Bucky kneeling next to Steve on the couch in the living room, not at the rickety dining table with two mismatched wooden dining chairs. That, and, Bucky didn't cook lunch. He was too spacy for Steve to even let him try. So, Steve heated up some leftovers from the other night and brought them to Bucky to, again, feed him and then deny him. He was really surprised Bucky survived that because, between breakfast and lunch, Steve had been alternating between drawing Bucky, demanding he hold various different poses for him, and jerking Bucky off until he came right, right to the edge. Then. He stopped and went back to drawing. At some point, Bucky started crying. His eyes were all big and wet and innocent, his soft, pink mouth quivering, silently begging for mercy while his cock wept just as urgently from between his legs, curved up against his tummy and so fucking hard it had to hurt. His expression, raw and desperate, looks pretty damn good taking up a whole five pages of Steve's sketchbook--he wanted to get it from every angle he could and track the progression of it as Bucky cried himself out, shaky and needy but also not willing to break the scene when he knows if he waits like Steve wants, it's always so much better--but that look was much more incredible etched across Bucky's face in real life. Nothing will compare to that. Pencil on paper could never crumble like Bucky can when he's in the throes of submission.

With lunch finished, that's when Bucky's job to be a footstool began. To prep him, Steve prepped him. He worked three artist's fingers into his tight little hole with thick Vaseline--neither of them will admit it, but just the smell of it gets them both more than a little hot, it's, just, fucking trained response at this point--to stretch him out for their biggest, heaviest dildo. They don't have many. And the way Bucky's gotten then-? God, Steve doesn't wanna know who he sweet-talked or what part of town he had to go to. They just have them. And Steve, by God, will use them. He'll stuff one into Bucky that takes effort to keep inside, making him clench like a vice around it so it won't slip out--making him all full and keeping him aware of it. Then, with that inside him, Steve used his leather belt to tie Bucky's legs together, clamping his thighs shut just above the knee. He doesn't want to get away, all the moaning and ragged panting and jerky, needy squirming says that clear as day, same with his red-almost-purple, severely erect cock, but he surely won't be able to now. He won't be able to crawl. He won't be able to not feel his heavy, pent-up balls between his legs. he won't be able to do anything but stay nice and still while clenching hard on his nice, fat toy. He won't be able to see, either, since Steve took a clean rage and blindfolded him. He gagged him, too. Just because. Furniture can't see. Furniture can't talk. Furniture can't move. Furniture can't cum.

But...

Apparently, this little footstool can get wet.

He's dripping all over the floor, all that squeezing tight around his stuffed-up hole must almost be milking his prostate, making his cock just leak and leak. And the heated drip-drop of pre-cum spilling messily out from the slit of his engorged, soooo stiff cock isn't the only wetness. He's stopped crying by now, he doesn't have any tears left, nothing but hollow sobs in his chest. The other wetness that Steve is going to meanly make Bucky clean up later--it's his filthy little mess after all, being so eager and dumb that he can't even play a game for a few hours, following the simple rules Steve sets for him, just be a footrest! It's not that hard!--is his drool. He's drooling badly around the gag.

He's a fucking mess.

And he's starting to get even messier. He's breaking. Cracking. Shattering.

Underneath Steve's heels--that he might be digging into Bucky's back on purpose, maybe, he'll never tell--Bucky's breathing is getting less and less even, more and more harsh, his ribcage flexing and heaving. He's squirmier, too. His thighs quivering, challenged by having to hold him up while being held together themselves. His arms, too, are shaking. He can't take his own weight. He can't bear it. It's too much.

With a muffled, choking moan, Bucky suddenly collapses onto his hands, leaving him ass-up. Apparently, if his agonized, shuddering squeak is anything to go by, the change in angle has made the dildo inside him shove deeper into him.

Cute.

Steve does nothing more than exasperatedly, impatiently fold the newspaper he's been "reading," tossing it down across his lap, and look over at Bucky. He's a hell of a lot redder and shinier than he was the last time Steve saw him. His hair is plastered to his forehead and blindfold keeping him locked onto nothing but the sensations happening to his own body. The rest of the world tuned out. He looks feverish. If his eyes weren't covered, they'd be hazy and fucked-out, lost to anything other than Steve. And with Steve? He'll just cry and curl around him, begging for more. Anything. Anything else Steve wants to do to him. Just more. Please!

"Really?" Steve clicks his tongue, rubbing his foot along Bucky's side and belly and hip. He feels just how hard he's breathing, heaving in air and pushing it out harshly. He's quaking. Quivering. And he convulsed when Steve lets his foot uninterestedly drag over his cock. Steve knows he has shit circulation. He knows his bare feet are cold as shit over Bucky's feverish, edged cock. He doesn't care. Let him quiver and shake and let him dig his teeth into his gag trying and failing to deal with the cold, sharp pleasure. He's afraid of it, he's trying to hold back. It hurts! He doesn't know Steve's gonna make him cum like this. He's trying to save himself, how cute.

With enough force to make Bucky feel hot flares of agonizing, pleasurable pain against Steve's cold, boney foot, Steve pushes his cock up into his heaving body, pinning it tightly and rubbing back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. It doesn't take more than a minute before Bucky is letting out all these sharp, needy, gurgly sounds that mean I'm gonna cum! I'm close! I'm gonna cum! Guh-gonna! Gonna cum! Steve knows. Steve doesn't stop.

He lets Bucky cum like that, face-down, ass-up with his eyes blinded, his mouth stuffed, his thighs tied together, his greedy, twitching hole stuffed, and his balls so overfull and denied that he feels like he's gonna burst at the seams.

He does.

He cums everywhere.

The orgasm so fucking intense that he can't make a sound. He can't move. He just goes rigid and lets Steve rip it out of him. Over-overwhelmed.

"Good boy," Steve purrs, all too smug and satisfied with the teeth-rattling intensity of Bucky's orgasm.

Bucky squeaks out one last sob before going entirely limp. He's so worn out, melting down onto his belly, that he doesn't even make a sound when his oversensitive cock grates against their wooden floors.

[chaoticspeedrun]

Girl! Hey! You beautiful sunshine! I have a idea and automatically you,yes you pop out in my mind cuz your writing is so *chef kiss* and i think you gonna like cuz its related to the first girlfriend headcanon.

Bear with me and hear me well.

Our precious Neon Leon,chilling with reader in a normal date but *dramatic music*

The ex

Reader's ex? No no no.

Leo's ex

Yeah i think you probably getting what i mean in here. I also headcanon that Leo has a bad tasty in men,so maybe this ex is kinda toxic? Making Leo feel uncomfortable remenbering what this ex have done but reader is not having it and break the shit out of him or sum cuz we must protect our blue boy 😌✊🏽💙

Hi Mitarashi! Thanks for waiting and I hope you feel like punching the lights out of his ex once you finish reading, because it means I did it right then. And remember guys, if someone tries to make you feel like you are less than you are, remove the asshole from your life immediately.

Hold my hand before I break his face

Pairing: Rise! Leo x Fem! reader

Type: Oneshot

Summary: Leo and you are getting ready for your date when his ex makes an appearance.

Can be read by itself but goes along with the headcanons of Leo with his first girlriend here.

Warnings: Toxic exes, insecurities, gaslighting, slight angst with a happy ending.

MASTERLIST

Friday was date night, Leo had decided a little after the beginning of your relationship, you'd dress up nicely, he'd meet you at your door, sometimes he'd bring flowers or candy and you both would fake a posh accent while at it before he portaled you to your destiny.

Wether the destiny was run of the mill pizza in the hidden city or the lair's couch to watch a movie, date nights were always special for the two of you.

The first of those dates that you had you worried that he was trying too hard to please you, always going above and beyond to do so.

You realized a while before you even started dating that Leo, as arrogant and confident as he seemed was secretly insecure and you didn't want him to feel that way in your relationship.

So you talked about it, and Leo seemed to relax with you, he was still romantic, it was natural to him, but he was perfectly fine with a date being just you and him cuddling while you did your own thing instead of trying hard to impress you, he was comfortable with you, he felt safe.

Today was mostly a lazy day, so you both were going to get pick up from run off the mill and then crash on his bed to read comics.

So you grabbed a long soft sweater that wouldn't itch when you cuddled and leggings, with fluffy socks under your sneakers.

Hearing his telltale knock at your door you smiled wide at seeing your boyfriend waiting there for you with a lazy smile and wearing a very familiar black hoodie.

You raised an eyebrow looking at him suspiciously "Is that my hoodie?" Leo scoffed feigning being offended.

"What? No greeting to your handsome boyfriend? No kiss? Just accusing me of stealing first thing." You snort, but he continues "This is just a generic hoodie I had in my closet, thanks."

You shook your head with a smile "Alright, alright, I'm sorry I doubted you my love, the mark of bleach on the left sleeve just looked a little familiar, of course you wouldn't just steal from me"

"But of course I wouldn't, but it's Okay, I forgive you" He sighs and you giggle before he sends a smile your way and pulls out one of his katanas.

"So, will this be the day you finally try the creepy supreme?" He asks while taking hold of your hand.

You squeeze the fingers in your grasp and grin at him "Not a chance."

His chuckle follows you both as he makes a portal and you step through it ending up at the front desk of the pizzeria.

Señor Hueso looks at both of you and rolls his eyes "Ah Pepino and his novia, given what you're wearing I'm hoping you'll be leaving soon?"

"Oh we'd love to stay Señor Hueso, I'm sure you'll miss us but alas! It's lazy night at the lair so two of your best pizzas señor! And another one for Donnie I guess" Leo ended dismissively before continuing with the order.

While he did so you looked around always fascinated by the different type of yokai around when you noticed a particular yokai walking your way.

The first thing you noticed was that he was tall and full of feathers, with red markings and a long beak, you remember reading about Tengu's, a japanese yokai that usually had a bird form, it seemed to fit his characteristics.

You were so busy trying to figure that out you didn't notice your boyfriend glancing up at the yokai and paling.

"Leo! I see you haven't changed a bit, still getting pizza every chance you get" The yokai grinned and Leo squeezed your hand.

"Yeah, well you haven't changed either Raku" The yokai rolled his eyes not losing the grin.

"So, are you going to introduce me to your friend?" The yokai, Raku, you now knew, asked offering his hand to you "Sorry for his lack of manners, I'm Raku, Leo and I used to be very close"

You offered him your hand for a shake noticing how uncomfortable Leo seemed and disliking the way this guy spoke from the get go "He was probably surprised to see a familiar face" You told him your name and made sure to add "I'm Leo's girlfriend."

Raku seemed surprised looking between both of you with a funny grin "Girlfriend, really? I thought you were gay?" He directed at Leo who sported an uneasy smile up until that point, a frown starting to form on his face.

"I told you I was pan" He said and the tengu rolled his eyes.

"Just say you're bi Leo, I get it, you swing both ways" Leo's fake smile was disappearing and yours had already left quite a bit ago, you thought tengu were bird yokai, not rats.

You internally apologized to Splinter for that last thought, but got a little snarky "So, you are?"

"Leo never told you about me?" He asked "Ah well, we didn't end in the best terms but it's all passed, right Lee? I'm his ex-boyfriend."

You couldn't deny the bitter feeling as you heard that, not because you were jealous of this guy, but because just a couple minutes with him already gave you a glimpse of how he'd treated Leo during their relationship.

"Hm, really? No I hadn't heard of you at all" you answered with an innocent smile, reveling on how his faltered for a second.

"But enough of that, going back to the original topic" Raku changed the subject "You know, eating pizza all the time can't be good for a ninja Leo, and I'm sure I saw you get here via portal, 's not gonna help losing all those calories."

Leo winced but put on a mask of disinterest, before he could answer though Raku continued "Also, what's up with that ratty hoodie? You are going out like this? Gee, you really let yourself go once we ended our relationship."

You didn't care anymore, you were gonna snap "Actually that's my hoodie" You smiled "It was too big for me, but Leo fills it up just right with his muscles, it used to fit better but now I fear one day it's gonna snap from the biceps" You had never spoken like that, Leo gaped wide at you and Raku seemed to frown at your words.

A waiter arrived at that very moment with your three pizzas and Raku looked like they were proving a point "not gon' keep those muscles long like these, gee, are you both sharing them or...?"

"Oi, just back off Raku" Leo spoke placing an arm around your shoulders and Raku rolled his eyes.

"Oh don't be so dramatic Leo, I was just joking around."

You chuckled, your hand pulling your boyfriend closer by the waist as you leaned and looked up at the offending yokai in feigned amusement.

"Sorry, I was trying to figure out the kind of yokai you are, I think I finally did, with the way you spew out bullshit and how it reeks, you're an Akaname right?"

Raku blushed embarrassed and a couple chuckles could be heard from behind him, he glared at you and scoffed "Hope you enjoy sloppy seconds, ugh humans" with not much left to say he stormed off.

You still yelled "Did I mispronounce the name? Sorry Akaname-san!" a couple people turned to Raku with funny grins as he rushed his steps.

You sighed feeling Leo slouch slightly, relieved the interaction ended, taking the pizzas and paying you turned to prompt him into opening a portal.

He did and you both appeared on his room, it was quiet for a moment before Leo looked back at you.

He looked so vulnerable, so you left the pizza on his night stand and pulled him by the hand towards his bed, laying back on it with him on your side.

"Thank you" He spoke after a couple minutes, you traced shapes on his plastron with your fingers, looking up at him with an inquiring gaze, giving him the chance to search for the words he wanted "for standing up for me, for...making me feel safe" there was a second of hesitation before he continued "For making me feel like I'm enough."

"You are" you stated firmly "You're more than enough Leo, and nothing Raku said is true, those kind of assholes just want to make their partner insecure, want to steal their freedom from them, geez Leo, we were there for just a moment and he gaslighted you as soon as he could, you have terrible taste in men."

Leo leaned in and kissed your forehead softly, a small chuckle leaving his lips while his hand reached up to intertwine with yours over his plastron "I know, ever since we started dating you made that clear to me, with him I always felt like I had to try too hard, and you've been clear since the beginning that I just have to be me with you" he smiled.

You both stayed like that, sharing small kisses and reveling in the comfort of the other for a bit longer before he spoke again "But what was that thing you called him? Akaname?" He questioned curiously and you chuckled.

You grin was mischievous "It's a yokai that eats the filth and scum in bathrooms" Leo's laugh was really loud after that, holding his stomach as he did and making you laugh too.

"Gosh, I love you so much" He said with bright eyes and you kissed him, the words 'me too' unsaid but lingering in the air.

[kaaaaaaarf]

You know what time it is! everywhere, everything by @lynxindisguise updated today with a vampire (!!!) chapter, and I maybe shucked off work to read it 👀 (so worth it). As per usual, the playlist has been updated! Songs and lyrics/explanations below the cut.

Universe 668x: Vampires

Vicious by Daniel Hart & Damir Orascanin

Instrumental. It's from the Interview With The Vampire TV show soundtrack and is suitably mood setting (along with being a suggestion from Lynx 🫡)

Bloodsport '15 by Raleigh Ritchie

Nothing is perfect but your imperfections are quaint And your love is worth it and for that I will wait And though you hate me, when you have a turn I drive you crazy but you always return If I fall short, if I break rank It's a bloodsport, but I understand I am all yours, I am unmanned I'm on all fours, willingly damned Loving you's a bloodsport Fighting in a love war Although you love me, sometimes we're mean Things can get ugly but we're still a team We are an army that breaks from within But that's why we're stronger, and that's how we'll win [...] I've got your back, and though it's stacked against us I've got your hand, it's us against consensus And I will burn the people who hurt you the worst and I will not learn Cause I am too young and too dumb to consider the terms of breaking the law And I'll curse the day that they return With a smile on my face as their heads hit the floor And they're done, now it's curtains, the bloodlust's a clusterfuck, it hurts but it's working And even if you ask me to stop, it's too late because I've already decided their fate It's not a distaste, it's pure hate and it pulsates and it works its way around my brain Anyway, what I'm trying to say is I'll protect you til the day I meet my maker So don't fight me now cause you might need me later [...] It's not what I'm in love for, I'm yours I don't know if you can help it, maybe I'm just being selfish...

(fun fact: the singer of this song is actually Jacob Anderson from IWTV!!)

Vampire by Lupin

Cold weather shivers like a knife in the back tonight The things you claim that you knew had taken flight A tipsy remedy while something's causing strife Familiar echoes warn from a past life You got ambition, baby I can admire that You say you love me when there’s nobody lovin' back Call me a criminal, I'm wearing the mask tonight Familiar echoes scream from a past life You want me to go back to your room Well, lie to me, I’ll lie to you I think the jig will be up soon But can it wait 'til the morning? Can it wait 'til the morning? Can it? It got so bloody like the moon on Friday night I sunk my teeth in so deep but you just sigh Can't get off? Well babe, neither can I Familiar echoes bored from the past life

(it's called Vampire by Lupin and the lyrics are chef's kiss...couldn't not add it)

Vampire Weeknight by Jenny Owen Youngs

I don't wanna think about you but I do I don't wanna think about you but I do I do I do Pour another finger out or maybe two Cause I don't wanna drink without you but I do, I do

All night I'm suspended animation Watch the palm trees out the window all turn black Sleeplessly I'm paralyzed and waiting Will you come back [...] Pacing like a bobcat in the kitchen Or up the stairs just solitaire-ing in my room Preacher's on the late-night television Saying "... soon" [...] Asking every empty room what you'd say Bloodless in the bathroom mirror, oh my god Just tryna make it through another Tuesday Or maybe not

Reflections Scatter by Module

Instrumental. This is from the What We Do In The Shadows movie soundtrack and felt appropriately atmospheric and sad.

If We Were Vampires by Noah Kahan ft. Wesley Schultz

It's not the long, flowing dress that you're in Or the light coming off of your skin The fragile heart you protected for so long Or the mercy in your sense of right and wrong It's not your hands searching slow in the dark Or your nails leaving love's watermark It's not the way you talk me off the roof Your questions like directions to the truth

It's knowing that this can't go on forever It's likely one of us will have to spend some days alone Maybe we'll get forty years together But one day I'll be gone Or one day you'll be gone

If we were vampires and death was a joke We'd go out on the sidewalk and smoke Laugh at all the lovers and their plans I wouldn't feel the need to hold your hand Maybe time running out is a gift I'll work hard 'til the end of my shift And give you every second I can find And hope it isn't me who's left behind

Bats In The Attic by King Creosote & Jon Hopkins

And I've gone silver in my travels, Growing silver in my sideburns, I'm starting to unravel. Heard my heartbeat on a downhill, I counted eighteen on my pulse as Kilrenny Church struck three for three o'clock. What else? [...] It's such a waste of all that I had.

You mentioned bats in the attic, So now you're lifting up the tiles to get around these conservation rules. I walked down in the basement. I'm hanging upside down, a gag across my mealy mouth.

And how I'll laugh out loud about that. When I read your simple novel, it uses all our real names. And go make yourself a fortune, There's nothing left for us then us left dangling just a little shamefaced.

It's such a waste of what we had. And it's such a waste of all that we had. And it's such a waste of all that I am.

[sugarsfics]

Making Pancakes

Sumarry: Its Stella’s 3rd birthday and she wants pancakes so Eddie being the best dad in the world wants to go big for his little star, it should work out right? What could go wrong? 

Trope dad!eddie x mom!reader ; Hellfire mom series  

Warning: like one cuss word, fluff, bad writing, kiss. 

Word count: 1.2k 

30 day challenge: Day 2 Send request <3

It was Stella 3rd birthday. She only had one request for today and that was making pancakes. Pancakes were her favorite food. Eddie suggested that we make it a pancake party with a full-on pancake bar with toppings galore. Even with money tight Eddie always wanted to do something special for his little girl. You decided to make it on Saturday at 9 just in time for the morning cartoons. You told Eddie that you and Stella were going shopping Friday before Hellfire to the store to get everything. All week leading up to the day he begged and begged you to let him miss school on Friday to spend the day with you guys. You stay strong tell him no until Thursday night he got Stella to join in on his pleading it was hard saying no to one pair of puppy dog eye but now two, he even got her to pout her lips. Needless to say, you cave, and Eddie fell asleep with his arms wrapped around you and a huge smile. 

He wasn’t too pleased to be woken up before 8 that morning. “You said that we were going shopping” “Yes, we are” “So why so early” “Because we need to be back in time for hellfire and the fresh strawberries are two towns over now so up” he groaned up eventually got up. Your next mission was Stella before Stella you and Eddie were night owls who love their sleep, so she inherited that trait from both, and it was 10 times worse. You walked her bed and gently woke her up “Baby” “Time to get up” “No” her little voice rang through your ears “Up time baby” “no” “Wakey wakey” “no”  “Come on baby we are going shopping today" silence  “ok tay” she got out of bed "there’s my baby oh crazy hair” her curls were everywhere you had to push some out her eyes “There’s my girls” Eddie walked in with his hair just as crazy has hers. 

You ate breakfast than started getting ready, Stella is at the age where she wants to just herself today’s outfit was a pink dress, her crown, blue sunglasses, with her black studded boots that Eddie made her, you and Eddie had the same pair of boots, so it was only fitting to get her a pair. Eddie loves matching with his family, so he put on his studded boots and told you to wear yours because we must match in some way. So, with your boots you put on a pair of light wash mom jeans and your Eddie’s Black Sabbath shirt, Eddie wore is usually black pair of jeans, his hellfire shirt, battle vest leather jacket combo and his studded boots. You all hopped in the van and were on your way. It was about a 30-minute drive to the store, and it was huge. “Wow” Stella said “Stay close my star you might get lose in there” Eddie said she clung on to him as you went to grab a cart, he put her in the cart then run to the door to open it “M'lady’s” he said in his DM voice with a bow Stella giggled when you bowed back “Thank you my kind sir” you answered in your best British accent. “Where to first” he asked while slipping his hand into your back pocket “Um let’s go find the pancake mix first” “Rodger that” he Saluted. The baking aisle was number 8. “Ok Stella any special one” he put on her thinking face while tapper her chin “That one” she pointed to a bright pink box mark FLUFFY PANCAKES “Nice choice my star” Eddie said while putting in it in the cart. “To the toppings next” 

After Eddie and Stella convinced you to buy 5 cans of whipped cream, those damn eyes, you were off to home. You order pizza for Hellfire since you didn’t have time to cook. “You invited everyone right” you asked Eddie “Yea um uncle Wayne and um” “You invited the Hellfire boys right” “Yea I think so” “You think so” “Yea maybe” “Maybe” “No. no I didn’t” “Eddie” “I know I know I just forgot” “Well next time I will forget to kiss you goodnight night or-” “How dare you threat me by taking away my kisses” After Hellfire you told the boys sorry for the late notice, they all understood Eddie’s mind but agreed to come.  

You were woken up by Stella jumping on the bed “Up Up its my birthday up up” “Happy Birthday baby” you said bringing her down “We get it it's your birthday, but can’t I sleep” Eddie teased “No daddy” Stella giggled he grabbed her and started tickling her “Happy Birthday brat” After so morning cuddles you got up to start the pancakes. You had everything set up nice and easy for you to start you mixed the dry ingredients first when you remember to put your hair up. When you came out of the bathroom flour was everywhere “What the f-” “She did it” Eddie pointed at Stella “No not me daddy” “What happened I walked out for 2 seconds” “We just wanted to help mommy” “Yea mommy can we please help” Eddie said “Give her the eyes” he whispered to Stella oh he is going to get it “Fine”  

Stella and Eddie’s hair match your up in a bun, “Alrighty lets’ start” you let Stella mixed to dry ingredients as you mixed to wet ingredients. Eddie came behind you to “help you” he rested his chin on your shoulder giving you a kiss “Who let her get so big” he said looking at Stella “I can’t believe it she is three already” “I know” “I want to do it again” he looked at you with a grin “Really” “Yea I-” “daddy help” “We will continue this later” he said kissing your lips. Stella went to pull up the whisk and powder went all over Eddie, she giggled “What's so funny” “you look crazy daddy” “No you do” he said grabbing some of the mixture and putting it on her face “daddy" she gasped throwing some more at him. You couldn’t help but giggle at there little fight, Eddie whipped his head toward you “Oh you want to laugh too” “No” you said in a giggle “get her” Stella said all hell broke lose in the kitchen. Powder everywhere then there was a knocks at the door you look at the time 8:50 “Shit they are here” you looked around no pancakes were done and it was a mess, you open the door to find Uncle Wayne “Hi Uncle Wayne um gives us about five minutes please we had a little accident” he looked at you clothes chuckled then nod “Thank you” you closed the door hearing the Whipped cream can go off, when you walked into the kitchen Eddie and Stella were on the counter and Eddie was pouring whipped cream into their mouth. “Eddie really” “What” “It is so good” Stella added 

Tag list: @thefreak0fhawkinshigh let me know if you want to be added <3

[ricky-mortis]

Heeeya Ricky!

How's it going? as per my policy, I'm asking you your ask (I have a policy, I implemented a policy, I send people their asks back. you dont gotta respond)

So what kind of music do you listen to? (other than the classic 2022 pop hit Virginity Rocks, of course). Genres, artists, etc. any song in particular rotting your brain today?

k, have a great day bestie :]

Howdy Jesse!!!

It’s going pretty decently. This week has been rough, but finding out the Tinlightenment Kickstarter met its goal has definitely made it better, and so has this ask :)). That’s a groovy policy btw, have fun with that. 

Now, I don’t think you understand the opportunity you’ve given me with this ask because I adore talking about the music I listen to. (Also you joke about Virginity Rocks, but I have had that song, along with Axe Man, on repeat for the past week). 

Answer below the cut bc this is a long one vvv

Alright, get ready for a whole breakdown on what I listen to because I make the rules and I say I get to talk about music as much as I want. Ok, so I really go through phases with what I’m listening to. Overall genres though are like- Heavy metal, rock, indie rock, indie, folk, folk punk, and pop punk. I’d say a big portion of it goes to indie rock and folk though (at least- right now). 

My favorite bands and artists though- that’ll have to be like The Backseat Lovers, Ricky Montgomery, Slaughter Beach, Dog (<- Those two are one band name), and Noah Kahan. But then I am also a big Crane Wives, Hozier, and Peach Pit fan. That’s all the more chill side of the music I listen to though. 

On the opposite end of this spectrum, we’ve got bands like Ice Nine Kills and Nothing More. (Ice Nine Kills is such a cool band btw, they do horror metal where they have albums where each song is based on a different horror movie, and it’s so good. If you like metal at all I would totally check them out). And then also there’s Waterparks, and Set it Off, and I Don’t Know How But They Found Me, and MCR, and The Wrecks, and Glass Animals. (Haha that was a polysyndeton, thanks AP Lang!) Oh! And Friday Pilots Club! 

Specific songs at the moment though? Black Fins by Right Montgomery for sure, that song's so sad but by god is it a banger. Current favorites are also Monster by Slaughter Beach, Dog, and Snowbank Blues by The Backseat Lovers. Just great songs all around. 

But yeah like I said- I could on for hours about music. Please listen to any of these bands if you feel so inclined, and let me know if you like 'em! I love finding people who have similar music tastes as me! Plus also- I’m hella curious about the overlap of specific music genres within the Starcanwrecked fandoms. But that’s a separate post, I believe.

[petersspidey]

Laundry Day

Summary: Y/N needs help carrying her laundry down to the laundry room and Bucky steps in to save the day. But he also has a load of his own ;)

Warnings: a lot of smut

Word Count: 3154 (its so long wtf)

MASTERLIST

Sometimes you hated Tony.

Like when he was overly cocky, and almost ruining your missions but somehow coming out the hero. Or when he tells the team something you didn't want all of them to know.

But you have never hated him more than when he put the laundry in the basement of the Avengers compound. You argued with him when he was first building it. He put your room on the top floor in the furthest possible wing from the laundry and unlike almost all of the Avengers you did not have super strength. So carrying your laundry across the entire building and down eight flights was not exactly easy.

So every two weeks you would spend 15 minutes just getting your dirty laundry from your room down to the laundry room, cursing Tony's name every time.

So there you were, the second Sunday of every month leaving your room, with an overflowing basket of laundry in your hand. As soon as you opened your door it felt like you ran into a brick wall. You toppled backward landing on your ass, and you had completely dropped your basket. Your clothes had spilled everywhere.

You sighed, and looked up.

"Sorry, Y/N." Bucky said

He bent down, starting to help you pick up your clothes.

"It's ok," you sighed, joining him in placing everything back into the basket.

"What were you doing standing outside my room anyway?" you asked

"I wasn't standing outside your room … I just happened to be walking past right as you opened your door."

You laughed, "ok Buck. Whatever you say."

He huffed in frustration. You always knew how to get under his skin, but he also knew how to get under yours.

Bucky helped you pick up the last few items of your laundry, when he held up something in front of your face.

You black lace thong. Your eyes widened, and you quickly snatched it from his hands.

You quickly threw the last things into your basket, and stood up.

"Well, thanks for the help. I gotta go."

You tried to get out of there as quickly as possible. Your cheeks burning red over the fact that Bucky just had your dirty underwear in his hand. But, your basket once again held you back. You lifted it, but had to walk slowly, barely able to see over the top of the mountain of clothes.

"Do you need some help?" Bucky asked, watching you walk away

"Nope. I'm good," you yelled back.

Bucky eyed you for a second, before turning to walk away. You continued down the hall, slowly making your way to the elevator. After barely making it anywhere. You placed the basket down for a moment, resting your arms. You stretched your back, and before you could bend down again to scoop up your basket Bucky was standing beside you, reaching down to grab it.

"I said I didn't need help," you said

"Yeah, and as much fun as it was watching you struggle to carry this and need to take a break five seconds in, I figured I'd just lend you a hand," he said

"Well it's not my fault I'm not a supersoldier like you," you muttered

Bucky chuckled and started walking down the hall toward the elevator.

"You carry this by yourself every week? How do you go through so many clothes?" he asked

"Well, every other week. But, yes."

"And! This is not an abnormal amount of clothes for two weeks, thank you very much." you continued

"You know, if you did laundry every week you might not have such an issue getting down to the laundry room." Bucky said, smirking at you.

You rolled your eyes, "Whatever, Barnes."

"You're just upset because you know I'm right."

As you approached the elevator, you pressed the button and Bucky put your laundry down.

"Thanks, I think I've got it from here," you said.

The elevator doors opened, and once again, before you could grab your basket Bucky managed to get a hold of it first.

"Really, Bucky. It's ok I'll be fine from here."

"Are you forgetting about the long hallway downstairs?" He said, stepping onto the elevator with your clothes.

You huffed, and followed him on.

"I'm a big girl. I can do it myself."

The doors closed and you began to descend.

"Oh don't get your little lacy panties in a twist,  I wasn't doing anything else I don't mind giving you a hand." Bucky said, smirking at you, knowing exactly how you'd react.

Your face became red again.

"Don't talk about my underwear."

"If you don't want me talking about your underwear maybe you should move the hot pink g-string that you have sitting at the top of your basket."

You lightly gasp, and reach over, pulling the pair off the top and shoving them down the side of your basket.

Bucky chuckled again. Knowing he was embarrassing you.

The elevator stopped, and you both stepped off into the basement, heading down the long hall to the laundry room.

"You must've done something to make Tony mad if he put your room so far from the laundry."

"I'm fully convinced he just likes to cause me problems. He probably has FRIDAY watching me on the cameras. I do not doubt one bit that he laughs at me hauling this downstairs twice a month."

Bucky laughed at your statement.

You smiled back at him. You don't see him smile much. It was a good change.

You turn the corner with Bucky. You could see the laundry room door at the end of the hall now. The two of you walk silently until you reach the door. You open it, and Bucky walks in in front of you and places your basket full of clothes down in front of one of the washers.

"Thanks for helping me. Would've taken me twice as long to get down here if I was by myself."

"It's no problem. It's always fun to show off my strength to a pretty lady."

"Oh so I'm a pretty lady?" you teased

Bucky blushed.

You smirked, and opened the washing machine lid. You began loading your clothes in. Bucky stood near you, leaning on the dryer right beside.

"You don't have to wait down here with me," you told him

"I figured I'd just wait and walk back upstairs with you."

"It's really ok, Buck. I usually just hang out down here until my loads are done. It's only a 30 minute cycle."

"Well maybe I'll just hang out down here with you…" Bucky said, as if he was waiting for your permission.

"Sure, I guess. If you really want to."

You filled up one machine, and threw the detergent in, shutting the lid. You moved over to another machine and began putting in a second load.

You heard Bucky chuckling, and turned around to look at him.

"What?" you questioned

"You have so many clothes that you have to use two washing machines." He said, shaking his head.

You rolled your eyes, "Whatever Barnes. It's because unlike you, I don't wear the same Henley's and jeans every day."

"No, you wear different coloured thongs every day." he teased

You finished placing all the laundry in the machine, and left your basket on the floor.

You walked back toward where Bucky was standing and jumped up onto one of the empty machines, sitting on the lid.

"You really just sit down here on top of a dryer waiting by yourself? You know there's a table and chairs right there." Bucky said

"Usually, yeah. Sometimes I bring a book down, but it's nice and quiet down here…" you started

"Well, usually I'll sit on top of one of the washing machines that I'm using, and not the empty dryer," you added, knowing exactly what you were insinuating.

Bucky's eyes shot up to you. "What?" he asked, thinking he hadn't heard you right.

"You heard me." you confirmed

"Well, alright. So why aren't you sitting on one of those today?"

"Well, usually only something I do while I'm down here alone."

"Don't be shy, doll."

Something about the way Bucky said doll, made you squirm. You hesitated for a second before you got off the dryer, and walked toward the machine that you had just turned on, climbing on top of it. You sat, letting your legs hang over the edge, eyes on Bucky.

The vibrations from the machine were shooting through you, pulsating right to your center. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. You could hear Bucky walking closer, he lightly spread your legs and stood in between them. You opened your eyes. Bucky's face was inches from yours. He leaned in closer, taking either side of your face in his hands. You expected his metal hand to be cold against your face, but it was almost as warm as his other.

He looked you in the eyes, before bringing your face towards his, pressing a sloppy kiss against your mouth (ok but think Endings, Beginnings kiss - his character with Shailene Woodly). You leaned into the kiss, opening your mouth more, allowing him to slide his tongue inside. You wrapped your legs around his back, pulling him as close to you as you possibly could. The vibrations from the machine, still sending pulses right to your core.

You could already feel yourself getting more wet by the second. Bucky's mouth on yours mixed with the feeling of the machine below you. You needed more. You ran your hands down Bucky's body, reaching underneath his shirt to feel his skin. Bucky ran his hands over you, one of his fingers grazing against you hard nipple poking through your shirt. You moaned into his kiss.

Bucky slid his hands under your shirt and began lifting it. You raised your arms over your head, allowing him to take your shirt off. You broke your kiss as he lifted your shirt over your head. He stared at your bare chest as he threw your shirt to the side. You pulled him close, shoving your lips back against his.

His hands roamed your bare back, holding you tight against him. He began kissing down your neck, toward your chest. You leaned back on your hands, allowing him easier access to your hard nipples.

You moaned, and allowed your head to fall back as he swirled his tongue around your breast. His hands fumbled with the buttons on your jeans, undoing the zipper. He pulled away, and urged you to lift up your bottom so he could rip your jeans from your legs.

He tossed them aside, and looked at you sitting in only your underwear. He smirked, seeing how wet they were.

"Granny panties?" he questioned

"Shut up, all my good pairs are in the laundry." you said, taking your panties off yourself, leaving you completely exposed. He stood, looking at you, enjoying the sight. You looked down and saw his cock fighting against the zipper of his jeans.

Bucky groaned before touching you.

"Lie down," he ordered, placing one hand on your chest, getting you to lie your back completely flat on the machine.

You twitched as your bare back hit the cold metal of the washer, before settling in.

You looked down at Bucky, just as he was bending over placing a long lick against your slit. You moaned loudly, not expecting him to do that. He looked up at you as he placed another lick, taking in your wetness.

He saw the look of ecstasy on your face and took it as a sign to keep going. He dove into your pussy, face first. You gasped, and arched your back, only pressing your wetness deeper into Bucky's face. Bucky teased you, leaving small, gentle strokes along your clit.

You wrapped your legs tight around his head, "stop teasing me," you begged

You could feel him smirk, "anything for you, doll."

Bucky began pressing his tongue harder against your clit. Moving it up, down, and in circles. You moaned loudly, your grip tightening on his hair.

The vibrations from the machine and his tongue on you were too much. You began thrusting up against his face. You wanted nothing more than him inside of you.

"Buck, please." you moaned

Bucky brought one of his hands up toward your breast. He kneaded it in his hand as his tongue dove around your pussy. He flicked your hard nipple between his fingers. You cried out in pleasure. You could feel your orgasm building.

"Don't stop, i'm so close," you whined out

Bucky didn't stop. He continued sucking on your clit until you could feel your walls come crashing down. You pulled on his har, and tighten your legs around his head as he continued through your orgasm.

When you finally calmed down, you slowly let your grip on him go. You were panting, lying back on the still vibrating washing machine, staring at the ceiling, taking in that feeling of ecstasy.

Bucky stood up and stared at you. He loved the sight of you. You were panting, cheeks red, a total mess. All for him.

Bucky looked around, thinking of how and where he was going to fuck you. He eyed the table.

"Get up, doll." he told you

You sat up, breathless, "Why,"

"Machine's too tall, beautiful. Can't fuck you up there."

Just hearing Bucky say that made your pussy twitch. He placed either hand on your hips and helped you down. You stood, leaning against the washing machine as Bucky began undressing in front of you.

He tossed his shirt to the side, and began taking his pants down. He stood in front of you in only his underwear.

"Take them off," you begged

Bucky gave you a smug look before pulling them down as well.

You moaned, just at the sight of him. You hadn't realized that the supersoldier serum would affect that part of him as well.

You moved toward him, taking his huge cock in your hand. You ran your finger over his tip, precum already leaking out

"Fuck," he muttered

"That's the idea," you said.

Bucky gripped your hips tight, shoving you toward the table in the corner of the room. He lifted you up and sat you down on the edge.

"Lean back, so I can shove my dick in you." he ordered

You obeyed. Lying flat on the table, bringing your heels up so they were resting on the table as well. You kept your eyes on Bucky, he traced his finger up and down between your folds. You twitched at the smallest touch.

"Please," you whined

Bucky grinned at you, before taking his cock in his hand, and lightly brushing it up against you.

Bucky lined himself up with your entrance, and slowly slid inside. You cried out in pleasure the deeper he got. You felt so tight with his massive cock. You watched Bucky push the rest of himself in. He shot his head back, mouth open, moaning loudly.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he said breathlessly

You both stayed still, taking in the feeling of Bucky stretching you out. He pulled you closer to him, taking either of your legs and putting them over his shoulders. When he pulled you tight against him, you could feel him get even deeper inside of you.

Bucky slowly began to rock in and out of you. The feeling overwhelming. You couldn't hold in your moans. Never had it felt so good to have someone so close and so deep inside of you.

You shot your hand down to your clit, moving it slowly between your fingers as Bucky began to pick up his pace. You already knew it wasn't going to take much for you to come again, especially with how Bucky was moving in and out of you.

Bucky slowed his pace, sliding out of you, and then pushing back in hard. You circled your clit harder as he continued thrusting in and out.

He pushed in, and you moaned hard, arching your back.

"Right there, don't stop." you said

Bucky kept his pace, thrusting in and out. He knew you were close to coming again.

"Such a good girl," he said to you

Hearing Bucky call you that was enough. You circled your clit twice more before your walls came crashing down. Your other hand gripped the side of the table.

"Oh my god,"

Your pussy twitched around his dick, but he didn't stop moving. He continued fucking you through your orgasm.

You groaned, knowing if he kept going like this another orgasm wouldn't be far behind. Both your arms were spread, gripping different ends of the table. Bucky brought his hand down to your clit. Running his thumb over it, over, and over, and over again.

Bucky rocked his hips into you, thrusting hard and fast. You moaned every time you felt him hit deep inside of you, his thumb still running over your clit. Your walls clenched against his dick once more. That was exactly what he needed. Bucky threw his head back, pulling himself out of you, spurting his come all over your stomach.

Bucky stood in front of you, letting your legs fall from his shoulders. you were still lying back on the table. Both of you stayed silent, trying to catch your breath.

The washing machine began to sing.

"Guess you got three loads done today," Bucky joked, cracking a small grin, looking down at you.

"Oh my god." you said, rolling your eyes at his awful joke.

Bucky held out his hand to you, offering to help you off the table. You grabbed his hand, and stood up. Your faces were only a few inches from each other.

"We should probably clean you up," Bucky said, not taking his eyes off of you.

You sighed, as Bucky turned away to grab you a towel from across the room.

You cleaned yourself off, and you both got dressed again. Bucky stayed with you as you switched your laundry from the washing machines into the dryers, 100% eyeing your ass as you bent over.

"Ever sit on top of the dryer?" Bucky joked.

"Too hot," you answered, laughing slightly.

You walked toward Bucky, he was sitting in one of the chairs at the table. He grabbed your hand pulling you close to him. You sat down on his lap, and he gripped your face with one of his hands, placing a long kiss on your lips.

"Maybe I should start helping you with your laundry every week," he stated

"Every other week," you corrected.

"No, darling. Every week."

[robynlilyblack]

Nice surprise?

Sirius Black x fem! reader

See here for the gender neutral version

[Requested – see request here]

Summary: Y/n has a very important question to ask Sirius

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, food and sex

a/n:  2.5k words, I written it in a way that would be the summer after the department of mysteries you can pretend the reader was there to save him but either way in my head Sirius never dies and as for the age you can choose if its Tonks age reader or same age as Sirius, thank you to the person that made this request this is such a cute idea i love it, enjoy xx

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist

You were nervous, beyond nervous as you walked down to breakfast, today was the day you were going to propose. Well actually, Sirius was originally the one who was planning to propose but last week you and Remus had been talking when you picked up Sirius’ jacket to get your jumper and a small box fell out. Remus seemed to know right away and tried to snatch it before you could get to it but you were too fast.

“Y/n I can explain” Remus pointed at you but it was clear that he had absolute no idea how to ‘explain’ it

Eventually Remus being the terrible liar he is gave in and told you how he had gone on Sirius’ behalf to get the ring but when he was giving it to him, he had to shove it in his pocket so you wouldn’t see it. After that you placed the ring back inside his jacket pocket but as you lay with him on your chest that night you realised maybe you could do something a little bit brave and a little bit mischievous, you could propose to him first.

You schemed with Remus and Tonks, there was to be a party this Friday for the order members and, according to Remus, Sirius was planning on proposing to you at it. Therefore, last night you pinched the ring from his jacket and kept it safely in your pocket ready for when the time came. You were aware Sirius would probably be running around frantic all day so you, Remus and Tonks would have to keep your cool as not to give anything away

You took your usual seat at the end of the table, Harry on your left with Remus and Tonks across from you. The Weasley’s would be arriving in the afternoon, along with Hermione to help set up, then the rest of the order members would arrive shortly after in the evening. As everyone sat digging into their breakfast, Sirius entered looking a tad uneasy, walking up to the kitchen and grabbing his own breakfast before taking a seat at the head of the table.

“Morning Siri” you shine at him, the nerves starting to bubble into excitement as you see him

“Morning darling” his own worried state seems to vanish for a minute as he looks up from his breakfast to see you smiling at him, leaning forward to give you a quick kiss on your cheek

“Looking forward to the party?” Tonks asks, rubbing her hands together with a smirk, her hair becoming a bit brighter with her enthusiasm

“Yeah! I haven’t seen Mione, Ron and Gi…the others in a couple of weeks” Harry catches himself, cheeks heating up at his small slip up while the rest of you smile knowingly at each other

“I think it’s going to be one to remember” Remus taunts earning a stern look from Sirius and a smirk from you and Tonks

“You looking forward to it Siri?” you bite your lip as you place your hand over his

He tears his eyes away from glaring at Remus to you, his face softening “Yeah, I have somethings I need to…do before then…” he licks his lips as you see a familiar look almost like a small light bulb just when off in his brain “Harry you mind coming with me for a bit” Sirius gestures for the boy to follow him out

As Sirius stands walking through to the next room, Harry mutters a quick ‘yeah sure’ grabbing a bit of toast from his plate, munching on it as he follows his godfather out.

“I think he’s realised it’s gone” Tonks whispers biting back a giggle

“I feel bad making him stressed, but I think he’ll love it, right?” you say in a low tone looking towards Remus for conformation

He smiles nodding “Oh he’s going to fall for you all over again” you and Tonks smile as you all return to your breakfast while Sirius and Harry converse in the next room

“Close the door” Sirius ushers to Harry who shoves his piece of toast in his mouth while he closes the door

He takes the toast out of his mouth as he stares concerned at his godfather’s state “Are you okay?”

“Yes…no…yes” Sirius shakes his head as he paces

“I’m going to take that as a solid maybe” Harry says to himself as he walks over to the man, placing a hand on his upper arm “What’s going on?”

“Okay” Sirius nods composing himself finally “Sit down I was going to tell you before you came down for breakfast but well you’ll understand in a minute” he gestures for the boy to sit down with him “As you know me and y/n have been together for a while now…” he starts clearly nervous to tell Harry in case he doesn’t like it

“She’s pregnant?” Harry asks thinking that might explain Sirius’ nervous state

The man’s eyes widen “No” he waves it off answering straight away before he sits back thinking for a minute “I don’t think…no she isn’t…probably…that’s wasn’t what I was going to…say” he wavers as harry tries not to laugh at the several emotions that his godfather seemed to go through in the space of a few seconds “I was going to ask her to marry me”

Harrys eyes lit up “That’s great!” he exclaims smiling brightly

“You think so?” the boy nods making Sirius smile as well, feeling relieved that Harry approves

“Where you that nervous I wouldn’t like it?” the boy tilts his head in question

“No, well maybe a bit, I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it. You see I was planning on doing it at the party later” he explains

“Oh, so you’re a bit anxious?” Harry asks a little surprised as he’d never really seen him like this

“Not originally” Sirius laughs a little shaking his head “But that was before I couldn’t…find the ring” he confesses feeling embarrassed that this wasn’t exactly an out of character move for himself, he was sure James was probably laughing at him from the beyond, which was true but not for the reasons he thought

“Oh no” Harrys eyebrows knit together as he frowns “How can I help?” he offers right away

Sirius smiles at Harrys sentiment “Oh no is right and yes you can definitely help. I need you to rake through our room it must have just fallen out somewhere in there and I need to you make sure y/n doesn’t come across it or know anything. If she finds out I lost it she’ll tease me forever”

“On it” Harry nods standing up as he chomps down the rest of his toast heading to the door

“Oh” the boy turns back around as Sirius points at him “Don’t go in the top two drawers of the dark brown dresser in the corner of our room that’s the ones with our underwear, but all the others check in case I threw it in while I picking up clothes. And…” he points a little more firmly almost like a huge warning “… don’t open the black box under the bed, trust me you’ll never look at me or y/n the same”

“G…got it” Harry says going bright red his mind unable to stop the horrid image of what could be in it, before he leaves he turns back “Can I ask Hermione and Ron to help?”

“Yeah that’s fine, but don’t let Molly know under any circumstances, I love the women but she can’t hold her water”

You were headed up to change your shirt after you split some chocolate down your top while helping Molly make dessert. Walking into yours and Sirius’ shared room you see Hermione looking under a pile of clothes on an armchair, Harry looking through Sirius’ jacket pockets in the closest and Ron searching under the bed. You close the door behind you, the click making Hermione and Harry’s heads whip to look at you who was smiling knowingly at them before you all let out a small giggle as Ron whacks his head in panic letting out a muffled version of his signature ‘bloody hell’

“What’ch ya doing?” you smile as you look between the teens

“Nothing” Harry says quickly shaking his head along with Hermione

“We definably weren’t looking for anything” Ron says quickly earning a disappointed sigh from Hermione and she holds her head with her hand while Harry just looks down in defeat ready to apologise

“Looking for this?” you pull out the engagement ring box, to which the all stare mouths ajar

“You know?” Harry looks at you in sheer shock

“Yes and now you all are going to be recruited to the dark side” you wink but none of them seem to get it “Star wars, no? Merlin we are having a movie night” you point at the teens a little disappointed none of them got the reference. As you are about to start explaining you see Ron had begun to pull out a black box from under the bed “Ron?”

“Yeah” he looks up at you

“I’d put the back where you found it if I were you” you warn him with a half curve smile

The party was now in full swing, everyone dotted about the room immersed in conversation as the music played softly from the record player in the background. You saw Harry break the news to Sirius from across the room about how he couldn’t ‘find’ the ring anywhere, you felt a little bad as you saw his face drop so you decided to go over and comfort him. He doesn’t notice you as you approach seeming to take a rather large gulp of his drink as he took a deep breath.

“Siri you okay?” you rub his arm as you lean in planting a kiss on his cheek

This seems to calm him as he slithers his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him “Yeah, sorry. I know I’ve been a bit distant today I was a bit nervous about the party” he smiles sadly, clearly a little disappointed, on any other occasion you would have taken him to the side and made sure he was okay but since you knew he would be very happy soon you just nod leaning into him

“Okay” you say as you place a kiss on his jaw which makes him crack a smile

“How are you?” he gives your waist a little squeeze

“Good, I think the party’s going well everyone’s having a good time” you smile back at him, biting your lip for a second as you look around the room “Maybe you should make a little toast now everyone is here?” you suggest

Sirius’ smile falters as he remembers this was the moment he would have proposed if not for his own recklessness “Yeah good idea darlin” he leans in to give you a lingering kiss to the forehead before he steps forward grabbing one of the knifes from the buffet table nearby and clinging his glass to get everyone’s attention

“I’d like to make a little toast, don’t worry I’ll keep it short and…” Sirius’ announces but he stops hearing Molly’s and a few others gasp, oh god I better not have something on my face, he panics looking over at Remus who gives him a smile and a wink mouthing ‘turn around’

The man’s eyebrows knit together as he turns around slowly, his eyebrow raising as he sees you down on one knee behind him, box in hand. His eyes trail from your face to the box, recognising it immediately, his lips parting as he closes his eyes, a huge smile spreads across his face as well as a light-hearted chuckle escapes his lips as he puts all the pieces together

“Sirius, we have been together for a while now, and you are the most amazing, remarkable and wonderfully ridiculous man I have ever met” you giggle a little bit as does he “You make me, smile brighter, laugh harder and every time I see you my heart flutters like it was the first time I saw you all over again. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, so…” you open up the box, gaining more gasps and in your peripheral a fully crying Molly but your main focus is on the man looking at you like you were his entire world “Would you make me the happiest person alive and do me the honour of marrying me?” you ask your eyes a little glossy from the emotions running through you

If his smile could grow any wider it did as he took a couple of steps forward, dropping down to his kneels down in front of you placing the glass and knife on the floor next to him in front of you “Yes” he nods his head “Merlin yes” he declares with such joy in his eyes

Sirius wastes no time as he cups your cheeks, gently pulling your jaw towards him by his fingertips, lips meeting softly before moulding together seamlessly. The party goer cheers and applauds around you forgotten as you drop your raised knee, letting you both shuffle closer to each other as your kiss deepens. As you pull away he rests his forehead on yours, kissing your nose gently as he does

“You’re a sneaky little thing aren’t you” he shakes his head lightly as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth “Merlin I love you so much” he nuzzles his nose with yours as you both are unable to hold back your smiles

“I love you too Siri” you take his hand in yours placing a chaste kiss to his knuckles “Nice surprise?” you ask even though you already know the answer from the proud grin painting his face

“I knew I wanted to married you for a reason. May I?” he gestures to the box

You nod, handing it over as you raise up your hand for him. Sirius removes the ring out of the box, sliding it smoothly onto your finger “It’s beautiful” you say looking directly at him

“As are you my love” he compliments as he helps you stand, both of you smiling like the happiest people in the world he leans down to whisper in your ear “How many people were in on this so I know who to get back at?” you don’t say anything merely glance over in the direction of Remus, Tonks and the trio “They are so dead” he jokes as you both laugh together, as you both are about to walk away you gasp as you feel Sirius pinch your arse “Don’t think I won’t be getting you back either, future wife or not” he smirks before he pulls you in for another kiss

[forever-rogue]

His + Hers

Summary | You didn’t want a bodyguard and certainly didn’t need one. Bucky didn’t want the job. But as soon as the two of you meet, all bets are off.

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.2k

Warnings | language (including light degradation, possessive!Bucky, smut (oral - f receiving, piv) - minors dni or you will be blocked

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I don’t need anyone to watch over me,” rolled eyes and loudly snapped gum. Crossed legs and an anxiously jiggling foot. The aging clock ticked loudly as your gaze burned into the giant dual monitors that shielded the man on the other side. He had just oh so casually dropped some horrible news to you. 

What was his name? Jeff? Jeffrey? Jefferson? It didn’t matter. Funny. For a man that you’d seen more often than your father in recent years, you’d think you might have remembered his name. Despite all that you still hadn’t seen him more than four, save five, times.

“Those are your father’s wishes.”

“Then why isn’t he here telling me this?”

“He’s a very busy man.”

“A man too busy to see own daughter, his own child, always work, work, working,” you spat, “what he could be doing that’s so important that he couldn’t even spare me fifteen minutes of his time?”

“He’s-”

“It was a rhetorical question,” you stood up and grabbed your bag, “sometimes it still shocks me that a man that claims he loves me so much he barely speaks to me, sees me. I don’t want this bodyguard - if you send them to me I will simply send them away. Don’t waste my time or theirs.”

“Your father is going to send someone regardless of your wishes, you must know this by now.”

“Tell him if he’s so insistent upon me being chaperoned like a puppy that he can come and talk to me himself,” you threw your shoulders back as you tried to chase away emotions or feelings. This was not the time or place for them, “see you in another six months for so.”

“Miss -”

You slammed the door shut before he could say anything else. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bucky’s groan was heavy - irritated - as he trudged up the stairs to the ninth freaking floor. Of course you couldn’t live somewhere near the bottom. Of course the elevator was broken, “I’m gonna murder you, Wilson.”

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he calmed himself with every single step. Left foot, right foot, and repeat. Before he knew it, he arrived on your floor, less angry but still annoyed. 

Bucky looked around for your apartment number, finding it quickly but wishing he hadn't. It was supposed to be a simple job - hang around you for a little while until things calmed down around your father. There was never any huge threat to you, but you were to be kept safe anyway. Typical rich people, he practically rolled his eyes. Complete idiot, he sighed at himself. He could have walked away from the gig easily, but things had been quiet after everything in New York and he needed something fresh. Naturally he’d say yes to this when Sam mentioned the job to him. 

Once he found your apartment he slowly trudged through the hall, his mind all but made up about you already. You were going to be nothing more than a spoiled little brat. He looked at the golden number above your door and sighed heavily before knocking loudly. 

For a few moments, nothing but silence met his ears before he finally heard what he was sure was annoyed grumbling inside accompanied by soft footsteps. The door was whipped open and Bucky came face to face with you. 

Your brows knitted together as you studied him before crossing your arms over your chest, “can I help you?”

“James Barnes,” his name practically came out as a sigh. You raised your eyebrows at him but remained silent.

“And?” you asked as you moved to close the door, “I’m in the middle of my fifth zoom meeting of the day and annoyed and hungry. Thanks for wasting my time. Have a fantastic day.”

Before you could slam the door in his face, Bucky stuck his foot in the doorway and prevented you from closing it. A huff escaped your lips as you glared at him through the crack, “your father sent me. I’m supposed to look after you.”

“Ahh yes,” you rolled your eyes and frowned, “the baby-sitter my father hired. I told him and his assistant that I don’t want - or need - anything to watch me. I’m fine. So if you don’t mind you can leave. I’m busy and don’t have time to deal with you.”

“You don’t pay me sweetheart,” he scoffed lightly as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. You wanted a challenge? He’d give you one, “and as long as that’s the case, I stay.”

“I’ll double whatever he paid you.”

“Oh honey, I doubt you could ever afford that.”

“What can I do to get you to leave?”

“Nothing.”

“It really doesn’t seem like you want to be here either so why don’t we both do ourselves a favor and cut the shit?”

“Not until your father tells me it’s okay to leave,” he smirked, “I don’t take orders from little girls, sweetheart. Nor do you pay my bills.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a bitch,” your mouth opened into a little pout as you attempted to shut the door on his foot, “you can shut the door, it won’t hurt me. I’ll just tear it down if I have to.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Want to find out?” he asked as you threw your head back and sighed at the ceiling. Yes and no. You wanted to push his buttons and see how far you could press. But you also didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Instead you slowly, ever so reluctantly opened the door, refusing to move but motioning for him to come in. He practically sauntered in with a victorious little smirk on his lips, “good girl.”

You were to let him have it when he turned around to face you and finally got the chance to study him. And your jaw almost hit the floor. Fuck. 

He was handsome - dark hair and the bluest eyes you’d ever seen with a five o’clock shadow. He was dressed in very well fitting jeans, along with a henley and leather jacket. So casual but he managed to make it look so good. For a moment you thought he looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place. Maybe you’d seen him around somewhere. 

Well, this presented a whole new predicament. This would have been so much easier if he hadn’t been one of the most gorgeous men you’d laid eyes on.

“Like what you see?” 

“I’m not into old men,” you cocked your head to the side and watched him with a smirk. Bucky almost tripped up and let an emotion slip but instead he remained pointedly neutral as he looked you up and down. 

It would have been easier to dislike and hate you entirely if you weren’t so damn cute. You were dressed in a comfy, oversized sweater and joggers and big fuzzy socks - casual and cute but effortlessly so. It was a challenge not to stare. 

“Whatever you say,” he held up his hands in mock defeat as you became momentarily placated, “what’s the plan for today?”

“I have a job and things to do,” you huffed as you pushed past him, “so just do something or whatever and stay out of my way. If you insist on being here.”

“I do.”

“This is going to be fucking hell, isn’t it?”

“It can be whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart!”

“Sure thing, doll.”

"I hate you already.”

“The feelings’ mutual, honey.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hating Bucky was a full time job. Bucky having to chaperone you through all of your shenanigans was a full time job. Both of you were incredibly stubborn and damn near made the job impossible. 

You'd be lying if it said he wasn't attractive and that you hadn't thought about him. Especially late at night. Alone in bed. But you'd rather die than admit that to him. 

Bucky had a feeling he'd break you down eventually; not that he expected anything to come of it. He enjoyed flirting with you and watching you get frazzled and nervous. But you weren't his type. Nuh uh - Bucky Barnes wasn't into pretty little spoiled brats. Even if they weren't attractive and smart and genuinely kind underneath it all. 

That wasn't part of the job. Which was why he never let it go past anything that could be deemed as flirtatious.

Just as he vowed to break you down and just admit you liked him, you might have had a little goal of your own…

"Come on," Bucky sighed as he paced around your living room, waiting for you to come out of the bedroom so you could pizza and watch movies. It had become somewhat of a Friday night tradition, reluctantly so. It was hard to get out and have a lot of fun when you had a silent, intimidating brooding man following you around, "how long does it take to change?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you opened your bedroom door and stepped out, slipping on your heels, "I'm ready."

Bucky's eyes widened as he looked you over. You were wearing a little black dress and fuck me heels along with ruby red lips and a full face of makeup. He fought back a little growl as you smirked at him, "what the fuck are you wearing?"

"Its called a dress, genius."

"To get pizza so we can come back and watch movies?"

"That's not the plan," you straightened up and walked past him, grabbing your purse and jacket.

"You said-"

"I lied," you stated the obvious, "I'm going out to finally have some fun. Without you."

"I'm coming with you," he crossed his arms over his broad chest as you tried not to stare, "that's the job, sweetheart."

"And I'd like to actually have fun and get laid," you threw your hands up, "its hard to do that with you breathing down my neck constantly! If you insist, can you at least like stay ten feet away. Give me a fucking break."

His breath had hitched in his throat as soon as he heard the words get laid and he worked to keep it together. He sighed as he forced himself not to imagine you underneath, naked and begging for more. 

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly, "ten feet only."

"Thank fuck."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One drink had turned into two which easily turned into three and after that you’d both lost count. Bucky had been sitting at the bar, a singular, but arbitrary drink in his hand as he watched you get progressively looser as the evening wore on. His steely gaze almost never left yours as he watched you chat up people around you. You were naturally extroverted, and definitely a flirt - but then again maybe that was the alcohol - and it wore Bucky out trying to keep an eye on you. He wasn’t terribly concerned about what was going on, but still, he was a man that took his job seriously.

It wasn’t until he decided that it was fine to let you out of his sight for a few moments only to turn back and found you missing. A growl bubbled up in his throat as he scanned the tightly packed pace and found you in the middle of the dance floor. You were pressed against a man that had been eyeing you up since you’d gotten there, mouths smashed together as you kissed him like your life depended on it. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and his hands were on your ass the entire time.  

As soon as you ground up against him, something in Bucky snapped. He threw back the rest of his drink and quickly made his way over to you. The people in his path parted like the seas when they noticed the predatory expression in his eyes. Before you could even realize what had happened, you felt a hand tightly squeeze your shoulder. A gasp left your lips as Bucky pulled you away from your newfound friend.

“What the fuck!” you glared at him as the man that just had his hands all over you grew visibly nervous. Bucky grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close, “Bucky!”

“Keep your filthy fuckin’ hands off of her, you understand?” he growled at the man as he just nodded, “I ever see you near her again and you’re dead. You leave my girl alone.”

Bucky shoved him away and the man practically skittered across the bar and out the door without so much as a single glance back. Breathing angrily, he turned around to find you staring at him in awe, arms over your chest. You were suddenly incredibly sober, “what the hell was that? I’m not your fucking girl, Bucky.”

“We’re going home. Now,” he reached for your hand and held your wrist in a tight grip as he dragged you without another word. You wanted to argue with him and fight back, but there was something about his possessive nature that had sent a shiver down your spine and a rush of warmth to your core as you let him pull you along like a ragdoll. 

Maybe your dangerous little plan was finally going to turn into reality.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you going to finally tell me what’s going on?” you asked as you walked back into your apartment, trailing after Bucky and slamming the door shut, “you chased off my only chance of-”

Before you could say anything else, Bucky’s hands found your waist and he crashed his lips onto yours in a bruising tangle of tongue and teeth. You responded with a surprised moan as he backed you up against the wall, making sure you didn’t hit your head. 

“He’s a fuckin’ boy,” he insisted as he lightly gripped your throat, causing you to part your lips as you fought back a moan, “he wouldn’t have made you cum. Probably doesn’t even know where your pretty little clit is.”

“And you would?” you challenged, already knowing exactly where this was leading. Something in your mind told you that this was wrong and you should have stopped it, but the larger part of you really just wanted him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it for weeks and weeks now, touching yourself late at night to the thought of him. Bucky smiled at you - a dangerous, toothy, wicked thing causing you to swallow thickly, “I don’t think you could. You’re all talk, Bucky. Probably haven’t even been laid since the 40s.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want this too, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear before trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin, making it a point to mark you up. That way everyone would know you were his. He rutted his lips lightly against yours, and you could already feel how hard he was, “I see the way you look at me - I know you’ve thought about me. Probably touched that pretty pussy of yours and wished it was my cock, huh little girl?”

“Bucky,” his name was nothing more than a whimper of your lips as you tried to reach down and touch yourself. He was quick to grab your hand and pull it away. You whimpered as he just chuckled darkly. Oh, how easily he could break you down with just a few words, “please. Need you.”

“I’ll give you what you need,” he swore as he watched you with hungry eyes. He shimmied up your dress and moved to touch you. His smirk only grew when he noticed you’d forgone panties, “look at you, such a little slut. You didn’t even put on panties? You really wanted this, didn’t you? Were you just hoping I’d touch you? I bet you had this whole thing planned out - just wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you?”

You looked at him with wide doe eyes but remained silent as you tried to play coy. But he was having none of it, and grabbing your jaw, “answer me.”

“Mhmm..,just want you,” you admitted as he slowly let go before grabbing both of your wrists in his vibranium hand and pinning them above your head, “just touch me.”

And he did - slowly, he dragged his fingers through your folds, smirking at how wet you already were, “oh honey, you’re practically dripping. So wet already, and I’ve barely even touched you. Such a good little slut.”

Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of him circling your clit slowly before feeling your soaked folds and sliding a thick finger inside. A small sound of surprise reached his ears as you almost rutted into his hand and he easily slid another finger in. The stretch from his fingers was enough to spark the warmth in your belly as you bit your lip to keep from whining. 

“Look at you, such a needy little thing,” you could hear the smirk in his voice as he fucked with his fingers, “but you’re not going to cum on my fingers. I’m going to see if you taste as sweet as you look. Gonna make ruin that pussy for anyone else. You’re mine - you understand?”

“‘m yours,” you whimpered as he let go of your hands and slowly sank to his knees in front of you. His large hands, a contrast of warm and cool, splayed on your thighs before slowly traveling up to your hips and grabbing them in a bruising grasp. This man was really working to make sure he would remain all over you. He pressed a few kisses to your thighs before stopping at your mound, and you could feel his warm breath fanning across on your pussy, “please.”

“That’s right, you can be a good girl,” he didn’t even hesitate for a moment before diving in and licking a stripe up your folds, causing sparks to shoot throughout your spine. You could feel him smirking against you at the immediate effect he had as he ate you out like a man starving. 

Bucky Barnes was not a shy man when it came to eating pussy. He licked and suckled on your clit as he let two of his cool vibranium fingers slide into your pussy. He crooked them just right, effortlessly finding your g-spot as your knees threatened to buckle. No one man had ever made you feel this good before, nor so easily. 

“F-fuck,” you hissed as he pulled back and look at the blissed out expression on your face, “more please.”

“Look at you pretty little thing,” he grinned as he pressed a few wet, sloppy kisses to your mound. He pulled his fingers from you before reaching up and practically ripping your dress off. If you’d hadn’t been so close to cumming, you would have yelled at him, but in the moment you didn’t care. Especially not as his hands found your breasts and massaged them before he played with your pert nipples, causing you to arch into his touch, “not wearing a bra either. You are bad.”

“‘m so close,” you whined as he just smirked at you. Before you could say anything else he slapped your pussy, causing you to jump slightly before you keened into his touch, silently asking for more. 

“You like that, honey?” he teased as you nodded with closed eyes, your mouth forming a small o. He repeated the motion before he grabbed your ass and buried his face back into your pussy. You moaned into his touch, bucking your hips against his mouth as he made all the most sinful noises as he ate you out like his life depended it on. He worked pure magic with only his tongue and he soon had you seeing stars as your legs started to shake around him. He anchored you to him and kept you from falling down as he brought on your orgasm, “that’s it honey. You’re going to cum all over my face, going to taste all that pretty pussy has to offer.” 

“F-f-fuck,” you reached down and carded a hand through his dark hair as you held him against you, “jesus.”

“Cum for me,” he commanded and you did just as you were told, crying out his name like a prayer as you felt your release wash over you. Bucky stayed between your legs as you came all over him, cleaning up every little bit you had, not stopping until you were begging him to stop from the over stimulation, “tastes like fuckin’ candy. Best pussy I ever tasted.” 

“Jesus,” your chest was heaving as he kissed his way up your body. He stopped at your lips and offered you a victorious little smirk, “you’re an asshole but at least you know how to eat pussy.”

He grabbed your chin in his hand and forced you to look at him, “you’re mine - this pussy is mine and no one else’s, you understand, little brat?”

“Ruin me then,” you raised your eyebrows before you kissed him again, trying to beat him at his own little game. But it was no use - he was easily more dominant and held control over you, “make me yours.”

“Turn around,” he growled as he flipped you in his arms and pressed you against the wall. You moaned as his hands mapped out every curve of your body before you felt the sharp sting of his hand on your ass. Just to spur him on a little more, you bounced your ass and he slapped you a few more times before massaging your skin to soothe the pain, “you like it when it hurts. God, you’re perfect. My little slut.”

“Please fuck me. Need you so bad,” you practically whined but quickly grinned when you heard him undo his belt and pants before he pulled his cock out.  He groaned in your ear as you heard him stroke himself a few times.

“‘m so fucking hard, baby,” he ran the tip of his cock through your folds and you could already feel how big he was, “got me leakin’ already. Thought about you and that smart little mouth so many times. Always cum so hard when I think about you. Can’t wait to see how good this pussy feels squeezing my cock. You’re going to take all of me, little thing.”

He coated his length with your arousal - you were already so wet again - before slapping his cock against your ass. You tried to reach around so you could touch him but he slapped your hand out of the way. 

“Put your cock in me,” you practically begged and before you could say anything else, he plunged into you, causing you to practically scream in surprise. He didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed inside of you, feeling like he was practically splitting you apart. The burn quickly faded away as you moaned and clenched your walls around him, “fuck, you’re so big.”

“Did you expect anything else, pretty baby?” he whispered in your ear before grabbing your hips again. He slowly pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back into you with no warning. You clawed at the wall as he set a brutal pace, slamming his hips into yours over and over again, letting you have almost no room to breath. The only sounds that left your lips were small whimpers and mewls he fucked you to an inch of your life. 

You felt the coolness of the vibranium snake around your body before he found your clit. You let him press you against the wall as he pounded into you, and you quickly left your second orgasm start to bubble up in your tummy. 

“Taking my cock so well,” he praised as he slowly played with your clit. He was not shy about being loud and moaning, all while murmuring filthy praise into your ear, “so tight - so perfect. This pussy was made for me.”

“More,” you begged in between breaths, “harder, please.”

“You want it harder, pretty baby? You’re not gonna be walkin’ after this,” he smirked before he picked the pace and fucked you even harder than before, which you hadn’t even thought possible, “good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Mhmm,” you agreed with a wistful smile, a fucked out expression on your face as you felt his cock twitch inside of you as your walls started to clench around him, “please, please, please.”

“Gonna fill you up,” he said through gritted teeth as he slowed his thrusts, making them slower and deeper than before, “gonna make sure you know who you belong to.”

It was a few more thrusts before you came again, crying out as the pleasure rippled through your body. Bucky came quickly after, grunting as he came inside of you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum. He fucked you through it all, not stopping until you were feeling boneless and he had filled you with every last drop. 

He easily caught you just as you were about to collapse in his arms and pulled you against his chest as he pressed a few kisses to your shoulder. You reached behind you and carded a hand through his arm, scratched at his scalp as he continued to kiss your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you said as you tried to catch your breath, “that was incredible.”

“I told you I’d ruin every other man for you,” he slowly pulled out and turned you around so you were facing him. You put a hand under your chin and turned your face up to his, “you’re mine.”

“I’m your girl,” it was like music to his ears as you reached between your thighs and swiped his cum mixed with your arousal up and sucked it clean off your finger, “my pussy is yours and your cock is mine.”

“Good girl, “ he praised with a wicked smile, “now get on your knees and put that pretty mouth to use.”

“Yes sir.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

[wicked-mind]

One Rule

Summary: There’s one rule you’ve set for each other in your relationship with Bucky. Always say I love you back to each other. 

Word Count: 2.1

Warnings: Swearing

All Writings Masterlist

As always, any likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated (: I love that shit!

*gifs not mine

There is one rule in your relationship with Bucky Barnes. 

Always say I love you back to each other no matter what.

Doesn’t matter if you both are fighting and hate each other in the moment. Doesn’t matter if one of you is having the worst day of your life. I love you made everything alright. It was a grounding phrase for both of you, letting you know you were always there for each other at any moment.

But this morning when you let out a lazy and soft ‘I love you’ half asleep to Bucky as he left your shared room, he didn’t utter it back to you with that half smile and a kiss on your forehead as he always did. He left with a small chuckle and shake of his head. Once he left the room, you sat up and narrowed your eyes at the closed door once you processed what had happened. Did he not hear you? He must’ve heard you- he has enhanced hearing so he should’ve heard you. He has never not said it back to you since the day you breathed out those three precious words to him so why this morning?

You shook your head for a moment, “It is sooo on, Barnes.” You said to the closed door.

And that is how the day of reckoning started. 

You wouldn’t call yourself a vengeful person but you were the tiniest bit petty.

You got out of bed, pulling on some black shorts and one of your many tank tops before sneaking out of the room quiet as a mouse. You stood up in the glass window looking down at Bucky train with Sam, tilting your head with a wicked grin on your face. As Bucky moved to throw punch at Sam, you flicked your hand, causing Bucky to lose his balance and face plant onto the the mat which made Sam howl with laghter. You are a telekinetic and can move people and objects with your mind. Today was going to be fun- for you at least. 

You kept yourself scarce, not wanting to be caught by Bucky this early in the day. Once he was done with training, you waited until you heard the shower turn on and him step in. You smiled and waited for a moment before, with a flick of your fingers to turn the dial for the temperature, the water in the shower turned ice cold against Bucky and you heard him let out a surprised yelp. You could hear Bucky trying to twist the warmth back on but you kept it in place on the coldest setting with your ability. After the shower shut off, you made yourself scarce again. 

Next was breakfast. Bucky loved breakfast and always ate at least six eggs, four pieces of bacon, and a stack of pancakes. You stood around the corner of the kitchen, waiting until he was distracted to use your ability to turn the heat on the stove up, quickly burning his whole breakfast as you listened to him let out all the curse words in the dictionary about his burnt breakfast.

“Shit! Fucking god dammit!” Bucky yelled as he quickly tried to remove his pans from the stove but by the time he did his pancakes were burnt, his eggs were blackened, and his bacon was too crispy.

Sam, who was sitting at the table drinking coffee and eating his own breakfast, let out another howling laughter, “Good god, Buck!” He laughed out, “You’re just having a day, aren’t you?”

Bucky shot a glare over to Sam with a grumble under his breath before trying to figure out what of his meal he could salvage.

It didn’t stop there. Oh no. You had many plans to get back at Bucky for not saying I love you back. You could tell Bucky was trying to find you, probably to rant about his mishaps of the day, but you kept yourself hidden from his eyesight and earshot. It didn’t take long for Natasha to catch on with what you were doing. She found you watching Bucky from another room as he went through files in an office, flicking your fingers so a window opened causing the strong wind to blow all his papers around the room and disorganize him.

“So, it’s you being Bucky’s bad luck charm today.” Nat said, sneaking up behind you causing you to jump, folding her arms with a smile on her face, “What did he do?”

You looked at Natasha and shrug with a smile, “He broke a rule.” You said simply and walked away with Natasha to leave Bucky to clean up the mess you had made.

The one place Bucky thought he would be safe from the bad luck antics that happened to be targeting him today was the library. He was sadly mistaken though. He had been in the library hundreds of times and knew the layout perfectly that he could just grab a book and plop himself on the couch without having to look but his bad luck followed him. He grabbed a book from the shelf, starting to read as he walked towards the chair but ran into the coffee table that seemed to not be in its normal spot and tumbled over it, running into a bookshelf causing books to fall on top of him, “Okay. What the fuck is going on?!” He yelled to himself as he started to pick up the mess he made. He hadn’t walked under any ladders, opened an umbrella inside, or had any black cats cross his path so why in the hell was he having such bad luck today?

It wasn’t until later that Bucky was starting to put pieces of the puzzle together after an interaction with Steve. They stood in the elevator together, Bucky explaining all the bad luck he seemed to be having today, when the elevator suddenly came to a stop between floors causing Bucky to let out a groan, “You’ve gotta be shitting me. See, bad luck.”

Steve looked confused at the buttons on the elevator- everything seemed to be running normal, “FRIDAY, why did the elevator stop?” He asks.

“Functions are normal. No known cause. It seems like someone has stopped the elevator.” The AI responded.

Steve looked over at Bucky, “Is it bad luck or did you piss someone off?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed in confusion, “I haven’t pissed off anybody today. Shocker, I know.” He grumbled out.

Steve folded his arms, turning his body to face Bucky with his eyebrows raised, “So you just think that slipping during sparing without any water on the floor just happened? Or that somehow the burner on the stove turned up? The locked window just happened to open when you were in the room looking through files? That the shower was stuck on cold for no reason? That the table in the library just happened to move suddenly or that the elevator stops working when all functions are normal?”

Bucky stared at Steve as if trying to read his mind before tilting his head back to look at the ceiling of the elevator as realization came across his features, “Y/N.”

Steve nodded slowly, “You did something to make her mad and she’s been using her ability all day to mess with you.”

Bucky groaned at the thought, running the events of this morning through his head to try and figure out what happened to make you upset, “I didn’t do anything though. I even let her sleep in.”

Steve sighs, “Better figure it out before she decides what other bad luck you’re going to run into today.” 

After the elevator finally started to move again, Bucky was on a mission to find you. He eventually did find you outside by the pool with Natasha. You two were laughing as you dipped your legs in the pool.

“Here comes Barnes with a sour look on his face.” Nat said softly, nudging your shoulder with hers, “I think he’s onto you.”

You smiled, hearing him approach behind you with heavy feet. Just when he was close enough to touch you, you tapped your fingers on the pavement making him lose his balance and trip right into the pool which earned a laugh from both you and Natasha. You smiled and waved your fingers to him as he surfaced from the water, shooting a glare right at you. You knew that look- You were in deep trouble with him. You quickly stood up and raced back into the facility before he could pull you into the pool with him.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at Bucky as he got out of the pool, his clothes and hair dripping water onto the concrete, “Two left feet today, Barnes?” She asks with a knowing grin.

Bucky glared at her, “Shut up, Nat.” He growled out before stomping his way into the facility after you. It didn’t take him long to find you, grabbing your arm and dragging you back to your shared bedroom where he pushed you up against the wall with his wet body, pinning you in place, “Why are you fucking with me today?” He questioned, a stern look on his face with anger in his eyes.

You smiled up to him cockily, batting your eyes innocently, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetness.” 

“Don’t ‘sweetness’ me, doll.” Bucky growls out, staring into your eyes, “Why are you in a mood with me today? Did you just wake up and decide it would be fun to mess with me?”

You tilt your head at him, “Oh no, I decided to mess with you after I woke up. I had no intention of doing anything until after you left the room with that cute little chuckle.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at you, trying to figure out what he could’ve done to make you put him through an embarrassing hell today, “I haven’t done anything to make you mad that I remember.” He told you, keeping you pinned in place, “So help me out, sweetheart.”

You pouted your bottom lip out to him which made his eyes flicker to your lips with that look in his eyes that made you know he wanted to kiss it away, “You don’t remember?” You ask, “You broke our rule.”

Bucky stared at you for a minute before shaking his head with a grin and stepping away from you. He ran his hand through his wet hair as his chuckle turned into a loud laugh at your words.

You frowned at his reaction. This wasn’t funny. He broke the rule you two vowed to each other never to break. To say I love you back to each other no matter what, “It’s not funny, Bucky!” You said to him, placing your hands on your hips.

“Oh it’s not funny.” Bucky replied through his laughter still, “It’s fuckin’ hilarious!”

You crossed the room to push him for laughing at you but he caught your wrists and looks down at you with a grin and his blue eyes shining, “I’m so glad your amused with how you hurt my feelings.” You hiss out at him.

Bucky grinned down at you, “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not amused that you think I hurt your feelings.” He said down to you, “I’m amused because you didn’t say I love you. You said I love waffles.”

Your jaw dropped a little bit, “No I didn’t! I said I love you!” You defended. Did you? Did you say I love you or did you say I love waffles? You were half asleep and couldn’t really remember but you were sure you said I love you.

“Yes you did, darlin’.”

“No, I didn’t, Bucky.”

Bucky shook his head at you with a dark chuckle and the same grin, moving his hands from your wrist to around your waist, “Yes. You. Did. I have super hearing. You definitely said ‘I love waffles’ which made me laugh. If you said ‘I love you’, I would’ve said it back like I promised I always would.” He told you, moving his face closer until you could feel his warm, minty breath against your face causing shivers up your spine which he immediately noticed, “I love you. Now, say it back.”

You let out a small huff in defeat. Bucky wouldn’t lie to you just save his own ass, “Fine. I’m sorry. I love you too.” You muttered out, “But I do love waffles.”

Bucky chuckles and pulls your waist closer to his, “I know, doll.” He whispers to you before kissing your forehead, down the side of your face to your nose then along your jaw before finally pressing his lips to yours. He pulled away too soon from your lips, stroking his metal fingers across your cheek with a dark look in his eyes and a matching grin, “Now I’m gonna have to figure out how to get back at you for all the embarrassment you put me through today.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @buckypops​ @stcrryslibrary​ @bibliophilewednesday​

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu​ 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates. 

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens. 

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class. 

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him. 

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all. 

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly. 

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months. 

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got. 

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career. 

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course. 

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.” 

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you. 

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen. 

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.) 

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side. 

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly. 

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester. 

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness. 

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you. 

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!” 

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things. 

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone. 

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought. 

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you. 

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news. 

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward. 

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason. 

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away. 

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom. 

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same. 

Apparently not. 

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed. 

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile. 

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.” 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck. 

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot. 

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi. 

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.” 

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.  

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face. 

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments. 

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.” 

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.” 

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character. 

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester. 

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right. 

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile.  He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.” 

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?” 

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh. 

This man was dangerous for your heart. 

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.” 

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you. 

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well. 

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook. 

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[littlepadika]

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

[mickey-henry]

𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky’s been flirting with you, but hasn’t taken it further than that. frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: occasional swearing (but not much) and frustrating flirting (I’d be melting if it was happening to me). besides that, this fic is pure fluffy fun.

author’s note: hello there! this is my second fic; I’m very excited to post it! I found the header image here, and if you want to listen to the song I reference in this fic, you can listen here. bold text indicates singing, while italicized text refers to inner thoughts. likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! I hope you like it! 💖

Bucky Barnes is an acquaintance at best. The two of you rarely work together, and with conflicting schedules, you see little of each other around the compound. On a random Friday in April, however, something changes in you. The moment is nothing out of the ordinary. You’re sitting on the couch in the main living space, re-reading one of your favorite books. Bucky has just returned from a mission; you glance up to see his exhausted expression. He catches your eye, winking with a smile, before walking to his room. Your heart flutters and your head freezes at the response. “Oh, no,” you think to yourself. “Maybe that was a one-time thing? I don’t actually like him, right?” Wrong. 

Ever since that night, the mere presence of Bucky Barnes drives you crazy: his stunning blue eyes that squint ever so slightly when he smiles, his adorable nose that crinkles when he laughs, his pillowy lips that you lose yourself in, his  fluffy hair you can’t help but imagine running your fingers through, his scruff speckled jawline that you wish would brush along your hands, cheeks, anywhere really. He occupies your dreams; you can’t escape this man even if you try. Today, he drives you crazier than usual. He stands in the compound's kitchen in a tight black t-shirt, one that leaves nothing to the imagination. This is the first time you’ve seen him in short sleeves, in anything other than tactical gear. You can’t help but stare as he prepares his lunch. The shirt hugs his frame tight, accentuating his biceps that had no right to be that big. “Gosh, he must spend hours in the gym to look like that.” You then notice the vein in his right arm protruding from his skin, tracing it with your eyes. You didn’t think he could become any more beautiful, but here he is before you, incredible as ever. 

You’re pulled from your reverie when Bucky calls your name. “Yeah?” you reply, barely masking the startled stutter in your voice.

“Pass me the salt?”

“Oh! Sure, of course,” you muster, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of you as you hand him the salt shaker. 

“Thanks, doll,” he flirts with a smile, the same one he gave you that night when he got back to the compound. You nearly choke. “Bucky Barnes called me a term of endearment?!? Holy shit.” Your heart swells and you look down at your glass in a desperate attempt to hide the blush creeping its way across your cheeks. “Goodness gracious, I respond this way from a simple word?” You couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if he touched you. 

It didn’t take long to find out. The following day, you stand in the kitchen prepping your lunch, singing softly along to the song playing from your phone. Bucky appears soon after. He stands close to you for a moment, closer than necessary, but of course you don’t mind. He has just showered; his cologne lingers in the air, intoxicating you. Somehow, you keep singing along, showing no sign that your mind is elsewhere. 

“Ugh, he smells amazing. This man has too much power over me; this is ridiculous! I don’t even remember what I was doing—”

“You have a beautiful voice,” he compliments.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you softly reply, your heart racing at his praise.

“Let me get by you real fast, doll,” he says, moving to walk behind you. 

“There he goes again with the pet name. My god, could this get any worse—” 

He places his hands gently on your hips as he moves beside you. Electricity travels through your whole body; you’re internally screaming at his touch. His hands feel better than you imagined. Even though the contact lasts only a moment, the effects of his touch linger after, leaving you speechless. 

You hear a musical chuckle from the man behind you. “Is he teasing me? It sure feels like it,” you wonder. There is no way that he can’t see the effect he has on you. Before you can even formulate another thought, he touches you again as he moves back to the other side of you. “That was definitely on purpose; certainly he wouldn’t do this by accident. Right?”

Your eyes linger as he finishes putting together his lunch. He catches your gaze and smiles. “See you later, sweetheart,” he says with a wink before leaving the room. “Okay, that answers my question; that was very intentional. What am I going to do with myself?”

You don’t know how much longer you can take his teasing. Throughout the week, he ups his antics, calling you pet names more than your own, stealing touches whenever he can get away with it, smiling whenever you make eye contact. The tension is insatiable; thoughts of Bucky follow you everywhere. You decide to take matters in your own hands; Bucky did not seem to be planning to make a move anytime soon. If he is going to tease the hell out of you, you might as well get some payback. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Tony’s announcement of Friday night karaoke gives you a wicked idea. However, for it to work, you need to recruit help. You know just who to ask. It doesn’t take long to find Sam and Steve; they spent a ton of their free time sparring in the gym. They seem to be at the end of their workout, their movements slow and sloppy, relying on witty retorts to throw off the other. They stop when they notice your arrival. 

“Hey!” Sam says with a smile, hugging you as you approach. You squeeze him tightly, even with his sticky sweat coating his arms. You greet Steve with a hug too.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Steve asks as you let go.

“Can I ask you guys something? And you promise you two won’t laugh at me? Especially if I'm reading this wrong?”

“Of course,” answers Steve. 

“Yeah, for sure,” replies Sam. 

You hesitate for a second, taking a deep breath. “Does Bucky like me? I swear he does. He keeps teasing me, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I think I am practically in love with the guy at this point, he’s so beautiful and—”

You stop as the boys exchange glances and begin laughing. 

You cross your arms, hurt. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me! I can’t control how I feel.”

“No! Wait! We aren’t laughing at you!” Steve says between giggles. 

You furrow your brows. “Then why are you laughing?”

“Bucky’s obsessed with you,” Steve answers after calming his laughter. 

“God, yes, you’re all he talks about nowadays,” Sam adds. 

“What?! He does? Why? Are you shitting me right now? Because that would be really freaking mean—“

“No! Of course not,” Steve insists. “Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”

“And the pet names he gives you?” Sam adds.

“And how he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself lately?” Steve finishes. 

Now you feel stupid for even asking. Of course you noticed all of those things. They were all you ever thought about. “Well, yeah, but maybe he does that with all the girls.”

“What girls?” Sam retorted. “The only women who are here often enough to cross paths with him are you, Natasha, and Wanda. Wanda’s with Vision, as weird as that is, but love is love. Natasha shoots daggers at anyone who looks at her with love in their eyes. That leaves you.”

“Why in the world would he like me? Of all people? He’s out of my league,” you sigh,

Sam’s scoff pulls you from your thoughts. “Bucky? Out of your league? He’s a crazy ex-assassin with emotional issues! If anything, he's out of your league.”

“You’re a catch, why wouldn’t he like you?” Steve assures.

Steve and Sam always know just what to say to make you feel better. “I guess you’re right,” you admit with a defeated grin. 

“So, you know how Bucky feels. What are you going to do about it?” Steve asks. 

“I have an idea, but I need your help.”

“We’re listening.”

You divulge your plan to them. They smile, hyping you up. 

“Dude, I’m so down!” Sam exclaims, clapping his hands in excitement. 

“You think this will work?”

“Definitely,” Steve assures. “This is going to be amazing!”

“Okay then, we’re doing this. Let’s go find Bucky. Time to initiate phase one.”

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky is sitting on the common room couch, flipping through a book when he sees you, Sam, and Steve enter. He exchanges a glance with you, smiling as your eyes light up. The three of you sit down. You’re sitting next to Sam, closer than usual. There’s a brief moment of silence before you speak. “Sam, are you going to karaoke night?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss everyone’s drunk-ass singing for the world.”

“Will you be my duet partner?”

This catches Bucky’s attention. He looks up from his book. Why the hell were you asking Sam to sing with you? You normally ask the girls...

“Sure thing, baby. It’ll be a ton of fun!” Sam smiles. 

Baby?! What?! How dare he call you a pet name, his girl, right in front of him? Well, you may not be his girl yet, but Sam knows how he feels about you. What the hell is he thinking?

“Yay! This’ll be so fun!” You hug him, grabbing his hand before continuing, “Wanna practice with me in a bit?”

“Find me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” Sam answers, kissing your knuckle before letting go of your hand. 

Sweetheart?! What the fuck was going on? Did he miss his shot? Would Sam really do that to him? Bucky can barely handle his swirling thoughts. He storms out of the room without looking back. 

Steve can’t help but laugh once Bucky is out of earshot. “That worked a little too well, wouldn’t you say so?”

“That wasn’t too far, was it?” you ask with a worried expression on your face. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. He’ll just come on even stronger now. He won’t give up on you that easily,” Sam assures you. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky can barely contain his anger as you step on the stage with Sam, giggling and smiling at your karaoke partner. Jealousy engulfs him. He can barely listen to the start of the song, ignoring the catchy beat blasting through the speakers. He doesn’t recognize the song, but looks up from his drink when you sing, “Hey Bucky boy, what you doing tonight? I wanna see what you got in store."

He looks right at you. Did she just say Bucky?

Sam echoes, “Hey, hey Bucky!” Well, that answers his question.

“You're giving it your all when you're dancing on me. I want to see if you can give me some more,” you continue, twirling your fingers through your hair.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“You can be my man, I can be your girl, and we can pump this jam however you want,” you sing, swaying your hips to the cadence of the lyrics.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“Pump it from the side, pump it upside down, or we can pump it from the back and the front,” you wink as you finish the line. Bucky sits up suddenly, crossing his legs, his face turning beet red. You smile, knowing the plan was working. Steve laughs from beside him. He keeps his eyes glued on you as the two of you continue the song, utterly entranced. You look him right in the eye as you end the song, “I want you tonight.”

You saunter over to where he is sitting after high-fiving Sam, confidence filling your chest. “So, what did you think of my performance, Bucky?”

You yelp as he grabs your hips and pulls you down to sit on his lap. His voice deepens, “you’re such a tease, you know that right?”

You laugh. “I’m the tease? Really? You’re the one who just pulled me onto your lap and taunts me with flirtatious remarks and smiles all freaking day. My god Bucky, make a move already—”

He cuts you off, pulling you in for a kiss, his flesh arm grabbing the back of your neck. The team whoops and cheers. 

“Glad you finally made a move, Bucky,” you pant as your lips part from his.

“Best decision I ever made in my life, doll.” Before you can respond, he kisses you again, the karaoke bar fading in the background as you finally embrace the man of your dreams.

[quartzwriting]

The Agent and Her Sorcerer

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: You, an agent who works with The Avengers, comes back to the compound to find that Doctor Strange has brought you coffee.

Warnings: mentions of drinking and doing the dirty

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev | Things have been busy, so has mental heath things, so idk when new things will come out. I love this piece tho so I hope this makes up for it. 

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

Gif by @cumberbatchlives

Technically a sequel to The Sorcerer and The Agent

When you stepped off the jet and onto the landing, you let out a long breath of relief. That field mission was finally over. It was an early call that got you out of bed before the sun came up. Too early for your body to function, but with the encouragement of coffee and Captain Rogers forcing you out of bed, you conquered the task. You checked your phone for the time, it was now around noon. You were ready to sit down, maybe even take a nap. You desperately needed a break.

But you knew you would not be able to rest.

Tony was already on your ass. He came out of nowhere, scaring the life back into you, and shoved a tablet in your hands. "Before you file your report, you got another one."

You groaned, falling into step beside him to make your way into the building. "Already?"

Tony pushed a few things on your tablet and an image came up. It was one of the objects you had recovered from this morning's mission. On the side was a stream of jumbled letters and numbers.

"Decoding, seriously?"

Tony shrugged, with a grin on his face that you wanted to punch off. "Hey, you're best for the job."

"Can't FRIDAY just run through it?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

You glared at him.

"Come on, you got this."

You rolled your eyes, "Fine. Only because it might give us a new lead."

"Atta girl! Don't stress yourself out."

You were already stressed.

"Oh and by the way, someone in the lounge is here to see you."

After a brief moment of surprise, you knew who it was. Tony saw the smile appear on your face, then winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him.

You tucked the tablet under your arm and made your way to the lounge. Maybe you were getting a little break before continuing for the day after all. A small amount of energy that came from your happiness pushed you forwards.

When you got there, sure enough, there he was.

"Hey, I thought you might want coffee."

You chuckled. Of course you wanted coffee.

Stephen Strange had a coffee tray in his hands that had two cups in it. He was standing around looking a little awkward, a little out of place at the compound. He looked relived to see you, as if anyone else in the doorway would made him embarrassed. His serious demeanor was no where in sight, a hint of warmth in his cheeks.

He wasn't wearing his sorcerer robes, but casual clothes. A jacket, dark jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, simple things that you got to see him in more often now. You liked it. Very much.

Without any hesitation, you made your way over to him. Giving him a big smile the entire way. You put your tablet down so you could take the cup he was holding out for you. "Thank you." Your gloved hands brushed against his bare shaking ones. The contact was enough to widen your smile.

"Don't mention it."

"Hi! How are you? What's new?" You asked him, leaning one hand on a table and sipping your coffee with the other.

Stephen let out a breath, "Well this morning I helped to try and close a dimensional rip in space time. If we hadn't managed to close it then it would have swallowed an entire country."

"Sounds exciting, Doctor." You hid a smirk behind a look of playfully exaggerated interest.

"Oh it was." He was trying to hide a smirk too, "How about you, Agent (L/N)?" His cheek twitched, trying desperately to not let that smirk slide through.

"Well I just came back from a mission in London where an very well hidden Hydra base was found. There were a few of their agents there, kicked some ass, and managed to recover some of their tech and files. You know, normal things."

"This is a very casual conversation despite its content." He commented.

You both broke after that, smirks turning into fits of chuckles. You reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

The two of you were developing into a 'thing' recently. Whenever he would come to the compound, you would have your eye on him. And you could feel his eye on you as well. It had been going back and forth for a while, finding excuses to talk to each other and purposely being in the same room as one another. Casual attraction.

You noticed the little details in him. Taking every opportunity to make a snarky comment during meetings. Dedication and a 'cool calm' overtaking him whenever disusing anything serious. His gaze of sparkling blue, sharp features, and welcoming smile. The very presence of him either made your heart stop or quicken, sometimes both simultaneously.

Whenever you were both having a conversation, whether for work or just friendly chatter, you found yourself entranced by him. His voice, his gorgeous face, his personality. Not casual attraction anymore, you were sightly obsessed.

But there was always this look in his eyes, that he recognized your attraction to him. And a look that told you he had similar emotions. You just knew it. You paid attention to him. You noticed him paying attention to you with interest, catching him staring on occasion.

Things had went from zero to one hundred at a party that Tony threw last week. You had a little too much to drink. Stephen did too. You found yourselves alone. Things escalated from there. You woke up the next morning in his bed in the New York sanctum, cuddled in his arms. You both went out for breakfast that morning. He took you out for dinner a day after.

Ever since then, he shows up at the compound when he can, or calls you to ask how you are doing. Work for both of you has gotten pretty busy lately so finding time to go out together was hard. But you promised each other another date as soon as you both were free.

This was a long time coming, you both knew that. All it took was one little push. But you did not expect that push to be a little alcohol. It happened anyways, so you decided to take it without complaints.

Stephen looked around, making sure no one else was in the room to intrude. After confirming, he leaned down and stole a kiss from you. You giggled and let him, leaning up into him. He pulled away to let you have another sip of your coffee.

He wasn't drinking from his own cup. You felt his eyes on you. It did not take long to figure out why. You were still in your uniform, one that is similar to Natasha's. Black bodysuit, weapons belt. Skin tight. A blush crept up on your face, some memories coming back from that night. He has seen you wearing this before, but now his gaze had a different weight to it.

"Liking the view, Strange?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and mischief glittering in your eyes.

He shrugged, "Now that I know what it all looks like, I like the view even more." Casual. Calm. Cocky.

You playfully smacked him on the shoulder, bringing his hint of a smile into light. Tucking the tablet under your arm, coffee in one hand and Stephen's own hand in another, you pulled him over to one of the couches. The two of you sat down. "I have a little tech and paperwork to do right now. You're welcome to stay while I do it, if you're free."

He relaxed beside you, an arm slinging over the back of the couch. "I've got time. Wong is watching the Sanctum, I have the afternoon off."

"Maybe if I finish early we can go out?" You asked with a perky smile.

He gestured to your open tablet. "Better get to work then." You laughed, quickly kissed him, and did get to work. You explained to him your tasks, the decoding you needed to do and then fill out your mission report file. He seemed interested, looking over your shoulder the whole time as you explained your process. He watched you complete the decoding, send the results to the cloud, and start typing away at your morning's mission report.

Stephen's presence behind you the entire time was comforting, taking away some of the stress of your busy work. His warmth and the smell of coffee in the air made you content. You felt him start to fiddle with the tails of your hair, you jokingly swatting him away before he went right back to it.

During the breakfast date, and the dinner date, you saw more little things about him you liked. There was curiosity and interest in his eyes. Behind that serious shell was gentleness and kindness, a full heart who thinks for others. It was like after that night, you got to see the real Stephen Strange, not the Sorcerer Supreme. He was a gentle lover, even drunk, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Eating out together, he was a gentleman. Seeing him around the compound, he seemed to be smiling more.

You never knew the great Doctor Stephen Strange was a total softy. It made you like him even more.

While writing, you found yourself putting extra care into reviewing the mission and its details. This may have been caused by knowing Stephen was watching your every move and you wanted to make a good impression of your work ethic. You made sure to skim through for any mistakes or typos in your writing as well. After some time, discarded cups on the coffee table and Stephen now subtly nuzzling your neck, you submitted your report.

"Do you have to do that after every mission?" The man who was practically wrapping his entire body around yours on the couch asked.

"Yeah. That was one of the longer ones. Most things were more straightforward this time around, but I did a lot in London today." You heaved a sigh, momentary wiggled out of Stephen's arms to plunk your tablet down on the coffee table, and relaxed back into the couch.

"Have anything else to do?" He asked.

"Not currently." You turned to him, now giving him your full attention. He seemed to like it.

"Well then, maybe you and me can go grab lunch?"

"I'd like that."

You watched his eyes dip down, briefly glancing at your lips before looking back up at your eyes. You caught him. This told you what he was thinking about, and soon you were thinking about it yourself. And then you were doing it. One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other found your waist as he kissed you. Your hands tangled around his neck and up into his hair gently.

It was like you lost track of time. You just focused on Stephen, a hand of his running over the fabric of your tight uniform.

"I'm glad Tony threw that party."

You and Stephen urgently parted at the interruption. Standing in the doorway, Steve and Natasha had smug grins. They were still in their uniforms from the mission, Steve's shield strapped across his back. You groaned.

When you told only one person that you went home with Stephen that night, it had spread through the compound like wildfire. Your coworkers all knew, and they were relieved. Finally, they had said. You must have not noticed how obvious you and Stephen's electric stares and intrigued chatter were.

You were a little embarrassed at being caught making out, but the embarrassment practically radiated off Stephen. He immediately straightened upright and cleared his throat. Apparently he did not show his vulnerable side to anyone but you, him instantly clicking back into a neutral expression when facing someone else.

Nat got right to the point, ignoring the irritated look on your face, "We got a new lead. There was a new location marked in one of their files found in London. Venice. We leave in thirty."

A frown glazed your features. You were really looking forward to spending some time with Stephen again. You looked at Stephen, who shared a mutual disappointed look in his eyes. But you knew that he would go let you work. It was annoying.

It wouldn't hurt to ask. Would it?

You stood up from the couch, grabbing your tablet to pull up your report again. You strided towards your bosses, a lick of confidence in your posture.

"Um actually I was kinda hoping if I could get the rest of the day off." You sang.

Steve let out a breath in a smug laugh, while Nat was hiding one of her own.

With a smile, you handed Nat your tablet, the mission report on the screen. Clean, detailed, care put into it, reflecting your hard work you had accomplished all morning. You saw her eyes look it over, the captain leaning in to do the same.

"You did work hard this morning." Steve pointed out.

"And you did eventually save our asses in the end." Nat added.

As you said to Stephen earlier, you did kick ass during the mission.

You gave them a look of hope. It was obvious what you wanted, they both knew it. For some reason you felt like they were lengthening the moment to tease you. To leave you in anticipation.

After what felt like minutes instead of seconds, the two turned to each other and exchanged expressions. Steve nodded. Natasha handed back your tablet.

"Go play with your sorcerer and his magic hands." Natasha whispered to you with a wink. A deep blush crept up onto your neck, and you saw her smirk. Scrunching your face up in a mock sneer, you snatched your tablet back.

"Have fun, you two." Steve said as a goodbye, and him and Natasha left the lounge to get ready for part two of today's investigation.

You turned back to Stephen. He had an impressed look on his face. Now standing, he threw away your empty coffee cups in a nearby bin."You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Too bad. Already did." You shrugged, sauntering back over to stand in front of him.

Stephen gave you a smile, and opened a slingring portal right in front of you both. "Then lets go."

You put down your tablet and went to empty your weapons belt. "I'm still in uniform, Stephen." You laughed, "I should go change first."

The sorcerer snapped his fingers, and your skintight Avengers uniform turned into a pair of leggings and a blouse. An outfit Stephen had complimented you on last week. You were surprised he remembered it.

You rolled your eyes at him, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the portal.

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

Hooked

Summary: Harry and Y/n meet again. This time spending more time together and getting to know each other. 

warnings/ disclaimers: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of childbirth. 

Harry was out searching for a book. He had left Loralie with his mother for the day since he had some errands to run and it would be a busy day. He had finished all of his books and he was on the search for another, maybe even some extra ones for his classroom. He had stopped by his favorite coffee shop and ordered his favorite black coffee to start his day of errands, then he went to the market to get everything for dinner tonight- he thought he might as well get it out of the way since he hates grocery shopping.

Now he’s on the way to a bookstore, he didn’t want to order it on Amazon or just go to a big chain store so he did a quick google search and found a small book store a block down the road from the coffee shop he had gone to. He wanted to find the book burning in water, drowning in flame- his sister had recommended it to him and now he was itching to read it.

He made his way to the bookstore, it looked like a homey place just from the outside of the store. It was a rust colored brick with two sconces on either side of the top of the book shop, a rather tall building- possibly a flat at the top. Harry looks at the cacti peeking through the windows, little flower stickers to decorate.

Harry walks into the book shop, opening the door making the golden bell at the top of the door frame sound off. As soon as Harry steps in he notes the warm scent, it smells like the owner had been baking cookies. “Hello!” He hears a cheerful voice sing while he steps toward the poetry aisle in search of the book. “Is there anything I could help you with today?” He hears the voice again making him turn his head. To his surprise it’s Y/n, he’s been thinking about her. “Oh, hi.” He says bashfully, smiling and stepping over to the cashier counter she was behind.

Y/n smiles, continuing to add price tags on the back of her new shipment of books. She had started her little business officially a bit after she had gotten pregnant with Milo. Milo’s dad had left her after she broke the news to him, they were in their early twenty’s (Y/n being twenty one and him being twenty two) so it was understandable that he didn’t want children yet but the way he dealt with the situation was just dramatic and too much on Y/n. So she put everything into her little book shop, she took out a loan and bought this place, starting planning and putting her all into it, it wasn’t easy but it was worth it.

“Hi Harry.” She says, adding a book to the stack. Harry blushes at her tone again, she’s hard to read. “Um… do you happen to have burning in water, drowning in flame?” He asks, whirling around her display of different styles and colors of bookmarks. He is a twenty six year old man, why is acting like one of his students who thinks he’s handsome? Y/n laughs, nodding while she pulls her mug up to her lips- Harry thinks it’s hot chocolate (and he’s right). “It’s in poetry, first aisle, third shelf, second row.” She says, impressing Harry in how she has memorized every single spot of her book store.

Harry gives her a tight nod, walking over to the poetry section and looking for the book. “Is this your place?” Harry asks, making conversation while the rest of the store is dead silent.

“Yeah, me and Milo live in the flat upstairs.” Y/n admits. Harry’s ears perk up, she didn’t say anything about a partner. He walks back to the counter placing his book down, not handing it over to her yet. “When did you open this place?” He questions, looking around the shop. He sees some crystals, some candles- that both look up for sale and also her personal ones. It’s cute.

“After I got pregnant with Milo. Right after Xavier left me.” She says, leaving Harry wondering. “Xavier is…?” Y/n sighs, rolling her eyes a bit. It’s only their second time meeting and she’s already giving him her sob story. “He’s what would be Milo's father.” She says, picking at her bare nails. She doesn’t consider Xavier Milo's father, he’s never been there for him so he’s not a father. Harry’s lips form a tight line, “um, Loralies mum died… so… we’ve all got baggage.” He laughs, trying to cut the tension.

Loralies mum had died, she died during childbirth. She already had a particularly painful and rough pregnancy with Lora and that was just extremely unexpected, Harry just thanks his stars everyday that his little one is safe with him. “That’s awful, Harry. I‘m sorry.” Harry smiles at her, “it’s okay. I’ve got my Lora so I’m okay.” Y/n nods, smiling and grabbing the book from between his fingers. “She’s a sweet girl.” She compliments.

Harry nods, feeling a little cocky over how well he has raised his daughter. “Is this all for you?” She asks, pulling out a small brown bag with the logo and name on it- they are cute. “Yes please.” Harry politely says, making her laugh under her breath. “If this is your first time here? You get a free bookmark with every book you purchase if it is.” She says, nodding over to the bookmarks. Harry nods, looking through the bookmarks and picking a random Fleetwood Mac one- cute, he thinks. Y/n adds the bookmark to the bag, setting it infront of him. “13.22” she says, Harry fishing his wallet out.

“Are you doing a lot today?” He asks, motioning down to all the books stacked around her while he hands her a ten and four singles. She shrugs, “the usual.” Y/n says, handing him back his change. Harry thinks for a second, pausing his response making Y/n a little nervous. “I could help?” Harry offers, setting his coffee on the table. Y/n gives him a questionable look, sharpening one of her eyes at him. “You want to put tags on books and reorganize with me?” She asks, making Harry laugh. He nods, putting a bookmark back in its place “see, I’m already helping.” He says cheekily.

Y/n smiles, shaking her head. “I guess you can help.” She says.

Soon enough they are sat on the brown carpet, mountains of books around them. Y/n has a blanket wrapped around her and Harry has his legs stretched out. Y/n is tagging books while Harry is setting by the book shelf closest to them organizing. “I swear they put something in the water fountain at that school, the kids are always running and screaming around my classroom while I’m trying to talk about how Van Gogh cut off his own ear.” Harry says, making Y/n loudly giggle, thinking about how Milo probably gives him a horrible time on Wednesdays.

“You like working where Loralie is?” She asks, Harry of course nodding. Loralie is his baby, he loves knowing she’s just up the stairs- especially if she were to get sick or hurt he would be right there to take care of her. “Yeah, I wish I could always be with Milo but one of us has to make the money.” She jokes which makes Harry laugh.

“She always comes waddling into my classroom screaming for me- which disrupts the class but I don’t care.” He shrugs, his mind going back to Loralie. “Oh shit, I’ve got to pick her u-“

“Hi! How are you, baby!” Y/n cheers, Milo running toward her then crashing into her in a hug. Y/n’s friend Mikaela had babysat Milo for the day while Y/n tried to get as much work done as she could. Usually on the weekends (like today) Milo will be in the store with her… which tends to distract her. “Um, I’ve got to go but we should do this again? Maybe… over dinner?” Harry asks, Y/n’s face lighting up.

“Are you asking me on a date?” She teases, Harry blushing and nodding. Y/n laughs, slipping her phone from her pocket, “take my number and we can schedule that date you’re begging me for.” She teases.

Harry gets her number, thanking her for the book and letting him stay before he slips out. Now he’s got to get back to Loralie. But he’s got a date!

**

Later that night when Harry and Loralie are practicing her memorizing her ABCs his phone beeps. He ignores his at first, just expecting it to be a stupid text from his friend Mitch, but once he looks down he sees Y/n’s contact name. “Keep going, bug.” Harry says, grabbing his phone from the carpet while they set on the floor of the living room, unlocking his phone.

Hii, im free next Friday :) let me know if that works with your schedule!

Harry laughs at her cute little smiley faces, trying to think up a response that doesn’t make him sound a thousand years older than her. The tip of his tongue sticks out while he types back his response, his eyebrows knitted in concentration.

Hello! Friday works, how about 5:30? I can pick you up.

He lays his phone back down and helps Loralie with her letters, pulling her onto his lap. “D is for Daddy!” She cheers, making Harry smile, chuckling and kissing her round cheeks while she squeals. Harry hears his phone ding, grabbing it and reading the response, thanking god she answered. He thought his heart would explode out of his chest. It was beating so hard.

That sounds good ☺️ see you then!

Harry got her to say yes, but now he has to deal with the anxiety of actually going on the date. What should he wear, where should they go? Should he be opening the door and pulling out her chair or is that not in-in dating anymore? He hasn’t dated since Loralies mum and his baby is two years old now, it’s been quite a long time since he dipped his toe into trying to charm a woman. He just hopes he’s still got it.

****************************

The day is here. Loralie is with her grandma so Harry can get ready for the date. He’s been panicking and running all around his little house. He showered and smothered himself in lotion and his best cologne- he wanted to smell nice for her. He was adding leave in conditioner to his hair (which he hardly remembers to do) to make it more silky and the curls look a bit prettier than they usually do- he doesn’t know much about hair, he just does what his sister tells him what his hairdresser tells him he should do.

He planned out an outfit, a pair of tan dress pants with a white tank top and a cardigan over it. He had thought over the outfit a bit too much, was it too casual for the date? Was the cardigan too much? He decided against his thoughts and layers some pearls on, sliding his rings on that were in a jewelry dish, placed in there before his shower. He takes a look in the mirror, readjust his cardigan before he gives himself a little nod. He feels good about this.

He makes his way over to Y/n flat, walking up the metal steps to her flat and knocking on the door. When she opens the door he notices just how amazing her home smells, just like her book shop. He needs to remember to ask her where she gets her candles. “Hi,” Harry smiles, looking his date up and down. She was dressed nicely. It was a sage green dress with spaghetti straps, it stopped a couple inches above her knee. Harry thought it was cute.

She paired it with gold jewelry and a black cross body bag. Dirty white vans to go along with it that added a child-like feel to the outfit. Harry thought that was cute too.

“Hi,” she smiles, glancing behind her. “You look nice.” Harry says, suddenly feeling hot. Y/n laughs under her breath, thanking him. “You look nice as well.” Harry smiles bashfully, looking down at his feet. “Thank you”

Y/n says her goodbyes to Milo, hugging and kissing him before thanking her friend again for watching him. It’s the same one from last week, Mikaela. They get into Harry’s car, a bit of awkward silent before Y/n breaks it, Harry stopping the tapping of his fingers along to the low radio once her voice interrupts it. “So, where are we going?” She asks, smoothing her dress out against her thighs.

Harry laughs, he’s not prepared for dates and for some reason he hadn’t thought about the most important part. “I’ll eat anywhere to be honest.” Y/n admits, looking through her window at all the different places.

Harry was looking around in a panic and he finally pulled something out of his ass that sounded good, especially on his teacher salary. “Olive Garden?” Harry says, trying to say it confidently but it definitely comes out as more of a question. Y/n’s eyes light up, she’s in the mood for bottomless salad and breadsticks. “That sounds heavenly.” And Harry is happy to hear that.

They walk into the busy restaurant, instantly getting escorted to a table. Harry is happy they didn’t have to wait- that would have just been embarrassing since he threw this together last minute. They sat in the booth, sliding in and getting comfortable. “So, how’s the bookstore?” Harry asks, pulling apart his breadstick. Y/n knocks her shoe with his under the table, she thinks it’s cute how bashfully he can get when just asking a simple question. “It’s good. How are your little art students?” Harry playfully rolls his eyes at her choice of words.

“It’s good. They are doing self portraits.” Y/n laughs, her eyes widening.

“How’s that going?” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “They look like shittier versions of Picasso’s paintings.” Y/n dramatically gasps through her laughs, “aren’t you supposed to worship the ground that man walks on? Why would you say that?” Harry rolls his eyes once again, chuckling at her. “I’m just behind honest!”

Their date goes on the same, they order their food, giggling while they eat and even getting into a little food fight with the leftover breadsticks. (They weren't being humble, they asked for another basket) They finished their food, “That was fun.” Y/n admits smiling. Harry nods, taking the check and opening his wallet. “Here,” y/n holds out her card, Harry shaking his head. “I’ll pay.” Harry shrugs her off, handing his card tucked in the black check book the waiter had brought over back to him before she can further protest.

Y/n scoffs, throwing another breadstick at him that he tried to catch but it’s too greasy. “Hey! I thought we had a truce?!” Harry questions her. She shakes her head, apparently swearing off the truce. Harry shrugs, thanking the waiter when he brings his card back along with their mints. “You better sleep with one eye open then.” Harry says, standing up and waiting for her. She laughs, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I have a three year old, I basically sleep with them both open. You’re nothin’.” She says, Harry nodding his head in agreement. He knows just how she feels.

They drive back to her flat, Harry of course walking her to her door. “I had so much fun tonight.” Harry says, looking down before he looks up at Y/n. She smiles, blushing. She hasn’t dated since Xavier and she admired that to Harry tonight, they both admitted that they haven’t dated since their children’s parents so they felt a lot comfortable knowing they were both rusty.

“Me too, you’re a really sweet guy, Harry.” She says. She needs to remember to thank her forgetful little Milo for leaving his folder in Harry’s classroom. “Thanks for agreeing to go out with me. I was pretty nervous.” Harry admits a bit sheepishly. Harry is a bit giddy on the inside about them hitting it off so well, they were having the best conversation and at times they were getting extremely loud, probably annoying the people around them, but they didn’t care, they had fun. “Yeah, I was nervous as hell but I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Thanks for tonight.” Y/n smiles, leaning in for a kiss.

Harry’s eyes widen, but he still kisses her back. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long he thought he had forgot how to for a second. His hands come up to cup her jaw, moving his lips with hers. “I’ll see you soon. Have a good night.” Y/n smiles, opening her door with red cheeks. Harry nods, a little flabbergasted. “Have a good night.” He says, trudging down her steps.

And now he’s hooked on her.

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If you liked this please reblog and please tell me what you thought of it ☺️ thank you for reading!! I hope you all like the series so far I’m writing part three right now so it should come out soon ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥