#two buck posts in a row who am i | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bunny-lily · 7 months

Text

Lift a Pen and Rewrite the Ending

Fluff for our broken fluffed-out hearts Dedicated to @bunny584 because ow. I promised fluff, so I’m delivering fluff

Pairing: Satoru x piano teacher!fem!reader

CW: just some fluff, man. We all need some happy, sappy moments in our lives with our beloved dumbass boy.

You taught piano. Plain, simple, easy. At least, you thought so, before meeting an enigmatic man as your newest student. He played a little too well for a beginner, and seemed a little too familiar.

AN: I chose to post this on my side acc since this one was technically made for the exact purpose of writing JJK fics (same with the Ao3 acc (milk_bunny/chimeric-dreams for that one)). So, cheers to the first fic on this blog!

This was honestly scribbled down in a single sitting between 1-5 am. Please don’t judge any mistakes too harshly, I wanted to post it ASAP and not subject it to my endless course of corrections and re-writing.

This is also very short (lmao 6.7k words) for how my work is normally. Again, I just wanted to get it out as fast as I could ;w;

smol update: this has been (minorly) edited! nothing big, I mostly just went in and fixed up a couple mistakes + summoned my dearly beloved thesaurus. Otherwise, it's basically 98% the same as before!

Music sheets laid scattered around you, annotated in messy scribbles in various colors, fonts, and sizes. A scratched out row of bars here, corrected or adjusted notes there, mindless rambles stuffed into the margins as you tried desperately to figure out which key to put your song into so that it matched the exact tone you were going for.

Not like you were some well renowned artist whose career rode on their sole ability to create magical orchestrations. No, you had barely any presence at all. The videos of your songs you posted on YouTube hardly scratched a couple hundred viewers at most, with the occasional comment from a bot or scammer getting your hopes up, only for them to go crashing back down.

You weren’t some notable figure in the music industry, you were just a white-collar worker that taught piano from your tiny home part-time.

It suited you, you supposed, as bitter as you could feel at times. You were just a normie, a casual passerby who liked having your fingers spring and jump across the keys of your instrument. It was one you inherited from your grandmother. She was the one that taught you how to play when you were little, while your parents were busy working and couldn’t sit and entertain you all day like she could.

She taught you some essentials, too, like how to tune the spinet – ‘It’ll save you big bucks, bunny,’ she insisted – and how to detect even the slightest issue it might have. She was correct about it saving you big bucks.

As shabby as the thing looked, with peeling white paint and floral designs chipping off the sides, the cover scraped to hell and back, and the brassy pedals having long lost their glossy sheen, it was in perfect shape.

In your expert opinion, anyway. You were biased, so what? You had every right to be.

Granny had left the world a while ago, her ashes situated on the short mantel of your tiny fireplace. You lit the candles every day, rested two softly smoking incense sticks on the shallow bowl to catch their cinders, and gave her a swift good-morning before you raced out your door, inevitably arriving at work with only minutes to spare.

In the evenings, you’d teach, then ramble to her about your day, wish her a loving goodnight, and go pass the fuck out. Rinse and repeat, except weekends, where you were teaching all day.

It was tiring, working two jobs like this, especially when some of the kids you taught were insufferable, but music was your passion. At the end of the day, you viewed it as worth every minute spent doing something you loved.

You liked to think she would have been proud of you.

A light tapping sound, a knuckle rapping against the wood of your open front door, caught your attention. It was a warm day, one that was too good to spend with the doors and windows closed. Natural light flooded in, casting the figure standing at the entrance in a brilliant glow that hid their features from you.

You glanced at the clock on the wall to your left, then leapt up from the floor in front of your coffee table, hurriedly and messily stuffing your music sheets into a folder. “Oh, shoot, sorry! I didn’t see the time, I’m so sorry about that. Are you the two o’clock?”

Today was a surprisingly free day for you. You only had one appointment, with a new student, if you remembered correctly. You must have gotten so ingrained in your rapid-fire notations that you lost track of time.

While you weren’t expecting an adult, since the email sounded like it was from a teenager, it wasn’t uncommon. You had students of all varying ages, anyways. It was a nice change, too; you found that adults tended to listen better than children.

A smooth laugh greeted your ears, the sound impossibly pleasant to your ears. “It’s fine,” the man said as he stepped into your home, breaking from the prison of light holding him. His stark-white hair caught you off guard first, followed by his height, and then the round shades resting low on the bridge of his nose. “That’s me.”

Eyes as blue as the most vivid summer sky peered straight through yours and into your soul, his hues almost appearing to shine in the tranquil environment of your living room, without the help of the overhead lamp you had turned off. His lips curled into a sparkling grin, giving him this sort of youthful luminance that had your heart skipping beats.

You swallowed and looked away before his gleaming smile blinded you, striding over to your upright eighty-eight, using it as an excuse to busy yourself and avoid eye contact with him before he made you stop breathing just by fluttering his lashes.

“Come on in,” you responded stiffly, clearing your throat to ease off the tenseness in your muscles. Why were you getting so worked up over him? Sure, he was pretty, but you’d barely spoken two sentences to him. How had he managed to get you in such a tizzy so easily, where your tongue felt tied and your pulse raced in your wrists? “How much do you know about piano?”

“Uhh,” he set down his briefcase against the wall beside your door, slipped off his shoes, and met you next to the instrument. “I know a bit.”

“Alright,” you nodded and patted the bench, then paused to think if it would be too low for him. What intensely long legs. “Do you need me to get a different stool?”

He shook his head, sliding into the seat like it was second nature to him. “Nope, this is just fine.”

“Great,” you smiled at him and tucked your skirt under your hands as you sat down on the other end. “Let’s get started, then! Are you familiar with the different notes?”

His hands took place over the ivories and he slowly pressed each one down as he labeled them. “C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C.”

“Excellent, that’s awesome! You’re already a few steps ahead of other beginners,” you nodded approvingly and retrieved the thin booklet you had laid on top of the upper panel. You opened it and sifted through a few of the jingle options, picking out something a bit more intermediate for him.

It was still simple, but definitely more advanced than nursery rhymes. You found teens and adults had a more enjoyable time learning when they didn’t feel like they were being patronized. Teens especially, fickle little creatures, those ones.

“Let’s start with this one, then,” you said as you set it against the music rack in front of him. “It’s pretty easy, I think you’ll pick it up quickly.”

The piece consisted of quarter-note half steps that ignored the sharp and flat keys for now. You had placed a piece of tape over the tempo indicator, finding that it put your students under too much pressure and made them stumble in their rush to follow the pacing they thought was right when they didn’t know what tempo was to begin with.

The man took a few seconds to study the sheet, then placed his fingers on the corresponding keys and began playing.

He was a bit slow, holding some notes too long and others not long enough, but you were correct in thinking he’d get the hang of it fast. After a few runs, he was playing it decently well, and confidently, too.

“Perfect! I knew you’d get it like that,” you snapped your fingers, then picked up the booklet again, flipping the pages in search of something a little more challenging. You probably wouldn’t find it in a kiddie book like this one, so you placed it down and got up, grabbing a more advanced one from the side table nearby. “What got you wanting to learn how to play?”

“Ah,” he scratched the back of his head. “My dad always wanted me to learn as a kid. I finally caved in, if only to make him stop yapping in my ear during family dinners. I’m just twenty years late to the party.”

You burst into giggles as you returned to your place on the bench, placing the new song you had chosen out for him where the previous one had been. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. You’d be surprised how many later bloomers there are.”

He chuckled along with you. “Well, that’s a relief. Had me fearing I was the only fully grown student you’d see in your life.”

“Far from it,” you shook your head. “I teach a grandfather that wants to play for his grandson at his graduation next year. It’s never too late to learn.”

When you looked up at him, you found him already peering at you with those intensely cerulean irises, his sunglasses folded neatly into the collar of his shirt. You twitched, startled by his stare. He had you locked in his gaze, captivated as he observed you and you observed him.

You noticed with wonder and fascination that his lashes were as milky white as the tresses on his head.

He really was beautiful. Those same lashes were long and soft, brushing his high cheeks whenever he blinked. His lips were plush and pink, seemingly always curled up into a permanent smile regardless of size. Life and boyish playfulness darted in those mesmerizing oases that refused to shake their hold on you, and you wouldn’t wish them to.

They were the breath of fresh air you never knew you were deprived of, the nectar of life that was water to your parched throat, the flickering mirage that came to life before your very being.

You felt drawn to him, inexplicably. There was something so… familiar about him, though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Like you’d seen him before, across the metro platform, or walking into the store you were just leaving, or someone walking the opposite direction as you on the crosswalk.

Where have I seen you before?

You blinked yourself out of the illusion, your lips parting, closing, then parting again before you finally managed to find your voice. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot your name, could…could you remind me?”

“Ah,” he shook his head, forgiving your forgetfulness. “Just call me Satoru.”

Just Satoru? Is that really okay?

It doesn’t sound like a name I’ve heard before.

“Alright,” you agreed regardless. “Satoru it is. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you murmured your own name in return, dipping your head down in a mini bow. You returned your attention to the music sheet, lightly tapping the back of his hand with your pointer finger. “Let’s continue, shall we?”

You noted how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. It was hard not to see it, your index finger would likely barely reach the topmost joint of his if you pressed your palms together.

Your hands tingled at the thought. You quickly shoved it aside, focusing on being a good instructor.

Satoru continued to surprise and impress you as he mastered the tunes you chose for him after trying them out a few times. Each time he made a mistake, he listened attentively as you corrected it, laying your hands over his as you adjusted the positioning of his fingers.

“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” you snickered. “I’m a bit jealous. It’s hard for me to reach those far keys sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned cockily, flashing you a sultry glance between chords. “They can reach a lot of things very easily.”

Heat rose to your cheeks and you stuttered, whipping your head away and acting as if he hadn’t completely flustered you.

Truthfully, the session was only supposed to last an hour and a half, but when you looked up at the clock, you were shocked to see you were nearing an hour longer than expected. It didn’t feel like much time had passed at all, maybe thirty minutes at maximum. Had it really been that long?

You pushed yourself up, stretching your legs as you felt pins and needles spark up in them. “Seems I got distracted twice today. I’ve kept you for an hour longer than I intended, I’m sorry,” you laughed meekly. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge extra for that, that’s on me.”

“It’s no worry,” Satoru reassured you as he got to his feet as well, delicately closing the fallboard with a careful hand. “Are you sure, though? I don’t mind paying for it, I did take up your time.”

He made something warm form in your chest.

“It’s fine, I love teaching. It’s not my main job, anyway, don’t stress,” you brushed away his concern. “You’re a prodigy, y’know,” you told him as you walked him to the still open door. “It’s no wonder your dad wanted you to learn how to play. I’m sure he’s proud.”

He let out a chuckle that sounded maybe a little forced. “Yeah, hope so,” he responded as he eased his shoes back on and bent down to grab his briefcase. “You’re a great teacher.”

“Thank you,” you brushed your hair behind your ear, blushing. “Ah– when would you want to see me again? I-If you do, I mean.”

The odd firmness he had a moment ago melted away, once more replaced by that handsome smirk of his. “Same time next week? Ah, hang on, why don’t I get your number, just in case? I have a bit of an unpredictable schedule.”

“Oh, sure, no problem,” you assented, taking his phone after he unlocked it and passed it to you. “You don’t like using email?”

He shook his head, watching you punch in your number into a new contact, add your name, then hand it back. “Nah, texting is easier for me. I’ll message you later tonight, yeah?”

“Alright,” you acquiesced.

“Oh, right, how much do I owe you?”

You blinked a few times before recalling that it was technically a paid session, though it didn’t feel like that to you. You murmured out the cost, and he gave you an odd look for a brief second. He pulled out his wallet, counted out a few bills, and folded them in half neatly before passing them off to you.

“Thanks for the lesson,” he grinned and waved goodbye, promising to text you later as he headed down your walkway, turned the corner, and vanished from sight.

You closed the door with a quiet poompf, staring blankly at your piano as you tried to remember how to function again. You glanced down at the bundle of money in your hand when you thought it felt a little too thick, brow furrowing as you unfolded it and counted and holy shit that’s way too fucking much–

You rushed out of your house, down the pathway to the sidewalk, and looked for him, though you knew it was futile. He was already gone.

You tried to think of how you were going to slip the excess money back into his pocket next time you saw him, but as soon as you were inside, you raced to the folder you left on your coffee table, practically ripping it apart as you pulled out all the papers, aggressively uncapped a pen, and got to writing at light speed.

That man, whoever he was, infected you with a painful shot of inspiration that you needed to get off your chest right then and there. Your hand flew across the pages, revising entire sections you had been stuck on for weeks in the blink of an eye. Messy verses were refined, the missing notes floated into place, and by the time the moon had risen high and the timid breeze had turned cold, you had finished your song.

You looked it over one last time, a disbelieving giggle escaping you. You finished it. You finished it. This damned piece had been giving you restless nights, a broken loop in your brain that kept skipping over the unwritten parts, but one session with Satoru had seemingly given you the one push you were missing all along.

Your phone buzzed.

You opened it and tapped on the messages icon to find a text from an unknown number.

Unknown, 9:17 PM Hey! Sorry for texting so late. It’s Satoru. Does next week still work for you, same time?

What divine timing on his end. Right as he entered your thoughts, he slid into your DMs.

Your fingers practically trembled with giddy excitement as you texted back instantly to confirm the time, uncaring of what kind of impression that was making on him. You were elated, feeling like you could exhale in peace at last. You gave a little victory cheer as you went about closing and locking all the windows and doors, pulling the curtains shut with so much energy, you questioned if you’d be able to sleep.

The answer was yes. After you had gotten all ready, having pampered yourself as a small reward for yourself, you fell onto your bed and passed out mere minutes later. For once, everything seemed to be going right.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

“How’d you learn how to play?” He asked one day as he sipped at the tea you prepared for him. He was right about his schedule being hectic at times, but he somehow managed to fit himself into having lessons with you a few times a week, rather than just the standard one.

It surprised you, but pleasantly so. He was eager to learn and improve, and you were more than happy to teach him. He made for fantastic company, too, and you found you enjoyed spending time chatting lazily with him just as much as you did instructing him.

“My grandma taught me,” you told him with a smile. “She passed away a while ago, but I like to think I’m keeping her legacy alive like this, by teaching others, and keeping that old lil’ thing alive.”

Satoru nodded in understanding. “You’re amazing at playing,” he complimented sweetly. “She did a great job.”

“Thank you,” you answered bashfully, hiding your blush behind your own mug of tea.

“What was she like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

His smile felt like the sun kissing the apples of your cheeks on a perfect spring day. Him wanting to know more about you had your heartbeat picking up in speed, chirping a new, happy melody like a canary.

You deliberated before replying. “She was a very shrewd woman, stern in her teaching, but very gentle at the same time. She was the kind of granny that snuck me pieces of candy when my parents weren’t looking. She let me stay up late playing music whenever I was staying at her place. I probably bugged my parents to let me stay there every weekend, just so I could play it and learn from her.”

“So you got into music young?”

You bobbed your head. “I fell in love the first time I heard her playing when I was a toddler. I had woken up from a nap one day, somehow escaped my crib, and crawled to the living room to watch her play for…man, I don’t even know how long. I was just…hypnotized.”

“She sounds like she was a maestro,” he snickered airily, though you knew he meant it.

You grinned widely, resting your chin on the curved cup of your palm. “She really was. I can show you some videos of her playing sometime, if you’d like to see,” you offered.

“I’d love to.”

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Satoru had been your student for a while now.

He zoomed through the intermediate pieces into the advanced-amateur category easily, though seemed to plateau around there. Despite this, he was a wonderful student, always trying to improve himself and his skill. You knew he had it in him, he was only missing a little something he needed to tip him to the next level.

At one point, you had joked that he must have been purposefully holding himself back just so he could keep studying under you.

He laughed, and said nothing more.

By now, he reached a point where he would come in with a pep in his step, claiming he had perfected a lullaby he wanted to play for you before you started the session. You’d find yourself (politely) seated on your couch nearby, and would watch with a fond expression you didn’t know was there as he treated your piano with a touch more tender than even your own.

And you’d listen. He’d choose some of the prettiest, albeit not complicated, arrangements to play for you, and you’d find yourself slipping into a state of blissful peace. All your thoughts would drift away, and you’d absorb yourself in the music he played.

A few sessions had been spent just like that, with him as your personal musician, and you couldn’t figure out why you felt so…happy.

You liked the emotion a lot, though, and found yourself looking forward to his every visit, anticipating the full body chills you’d get whenever he lulled you into that state of delighted serenity. You didn’t remember when you stopped charging him, and when you let him come in without knocking anymore.

You also didn’t remember when having tea after each session became tradition, but you were grateful for the joy he brought you with his presence alone.

In fact, you decided to get him a small gift as thanks. For what exactly? His company? Patience? Entertainment? Whatever it was didn’t matter. It wasn’t anything big, either. It was a record you stumbled across while visiting a thrift shop recently.

You picked it up for two reasons. First, he divulged he had a hobby of collecting old vinyls. Second, he mentioned he had been searching for that specific record for a few years with no luck, saying it was the last one he needed to complete his collection from that particular brand. The moment you spotted it, you grabbed it and practically bolted to the cashier, uncaring of the price.

There was no way you were leaving it there for someone else to nab it before he could. It was the most reasonable option.

Which was why you were extra giddy to see him again.

You opened the door in the middle of him reaching for the handle, stunning him for a second. That bewilderment was quickly wiped away by an excited grin that surely matched your own.

“If I knew you’d be this enthusiastic to see me, I would have worn something better,” he quipped.

You snorted and waved your hand, stepping back so he could come in. “Am I not allowed to be happy to see my favorite student? You look good no matter what you’re wearing, anyway.”

“Favorite, eh?” He teased as he closed the door behind him, leaning down to give you a quick hug. “Now I really feel like I should have worn something fancy.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” you giggled, leading him to the usual spot.

“I dunno,” he hummed, a sly expression crossing his face. “Pretty big deal to hear that from my favorite teacher,” You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest weakly, to which he laughed openly. “Ready to get started, teach?”

What a gorgeous sound his laughter was.

“Actually,” you said, “I got something for you. Wait here a moment, lemme go grab it.”

He raised a brow but didn’t raise any objections as he sat down and tugged his tie to loosen it a few inches, saying that he’d be right there.

You had to resist the urge to skip to your room to locate the record and retrieve it from the drawer you had safely stored it in. It was your sock drawer, actually. You wanted to keep it somewhere protected while it tarried for its new owner. You sang the melody of your newest single quietly as you picked it up, inspecting the album cover for any indication that it had been touched since you last put it in there.

Pristine. Obviously aged, but in flawless condition otherwise.

Sounds from your living room brought pause to your actions right as you closed the drawer after dumping all your socks back into it.

…Was that music?

Frowning, you picked up the record and crept towards the source of the noise. You recognized it instantly – it was the most notable piece written by the notorious Gojo Saichi. It was considered the most difficult composition created within the last century or so. You’d listened to it on repeat occasionally, attempted it dozens of times, though you always fell short before the second movement started, which came early on.

Was Satoru watching a video? No, the melody was too clear and full to sound like it was coming out of a phone speaker.

Then…

You froze in the entrance to the hallway, stuck in place as you watched Satoru play the oeuvre flawlessly. From where you were standing, at an angle, you could see his precise actions and motions. Every note came to him as naturally as air, each shift in tempo as easy as blinking, down to the fragile, silk-like contrast that made the instrument sound as if it was a weeping widow, sitting on a window sill as she descanted to the moon, alone.

His digits knew exactly where to go, when, how deeply to press, how to shift between fierce and floaty as if he was born to do exactly this.

As your eyes flickered from his hands to his face, you saw that his eyes were closed. He was doing what some musicians could only ever dream of achieving in their careers; he was uniting with the music, playing as one, letting it fill his heart, then pour out with every throb like the very blood in his veins.

The most complicated, difficult, astronomical concerto known to man in the modern age, and he was playing it like it was nothing.

Satoru must have sensed your burning gaping as his hues flickered open and his hands stilled over the claviature. He looked over towards you, his mien morphing into something resembling embarrassment.

You staggered closer. “That…that’s…that piece was…written by Gojo Saichi…” You mumbled, barely able to get the words out. You set down the record onto the coffee table, already having forgotten about it.

You were flabbergasted, rattled as you came to a stop at the side of the piano. He…how could he have played that so well? Wasn’t he barely in the advanced category? That was…that was professional, grade A, genius level music he played.

“Yeah,” he grinned, and you would have believed his show of being sheepish if the gleam in his eyes didn’t give him away. “He’s my dad.”

You sluggishly dropped onto your spot on the bench, peering at the keys but seeing nothing as you unpacked the bombardment of information you witnessed.

“That’s…the– that’s the hardest piece…even I can’t…”

“I know,” he rubbed his nape. “He basically forced me to stay up day and night playing it until I got it right.”

“But…how?” You tilted your head, peering up at him from the corner of your eye.

Satoru shrugged like he hadn’t just dropped a fucking bombshell on you. “I asked him to teach me when I was a teen,” You heard him say. “I’m sorry for deceiving you,” he apologized, not sounding very sorry at all.

“I…” You labored to find the right words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly?” He asked. You nodded, and he let out a heavy sigh.

Instead of answering immediately, he stood up and pulled you to your feet as well, pulling you into the kitchen, where he filled your kettle with water and put it to heat up.

You desperately wanted to know what exactly was going on, but couldn’t find it in yourself to rush him. He went about methodically picking out both your mugs from your cupboard, tossing a bag of tea into both, grabbing the bowl of sugar on the counter, and setting it all down on the table while he waited for the kettle to whistle. He seemed lost in thought, while you had many and none at all at the same time.

You could only observe him as he picked his words carefully.

He finally began when the shrill noise of boiling water filled the room. “I don’t know if you remember – probably not, since you didn’t recognize me – but we actually did meet a while ago. I was a lot different back then,” he said as he poured the water into both mugs, afterwards placing it back on the stove and holding his hand sideways at roughly chest level. “Maybe this high, scrawny, kind of a douchebag,” he admitted with a chuckle.

You were still in shock over the whole situation. All you could do was silently urge him to continue by leaning closer, accepting the cup when he passed it to you. Heat spread through your fingertips, easing away the frosty feeling you didn’t notice set in.

“You were playing the piano in the music room at the school we went to together. It was…honestly, beautiful. I grew up with a famous pianist for a dad, but even he can’t make music sound as alluring and gentle as you can,” he continued, awkwardly holding his own mug. “So, when I saw you again a few months ago, I couldn’t believe it was you. I always wanted to ask you to play something for me when we were younger, but could never get the nerve to.”

As he spoke, the memories were beginning to filter in through the thick haze in your brain.

You were so focused on writing music and learning to be a great musician like your grandmother that you never really paid attention to your surroundings or the people around you if they weren’t your granny, parents, direct friends, or music teacher.

From what you did remember, Satoru was always a confident, cocky boy, shameless and loud. To hear he was…shy about asking you to play for him was hard to believe.

“So, I finally let my dad start teaching me,” he rambled on when you didn’t respond. “I’ve tried so many times to replicate the song you played, but I could never get it right. I know it’s probably a long shot, but you don’t happen to remember what song that was, do you?”

You thought back, scraping the dust off your highschool recollections. There was one piece you had hyperfocused on perfecting during the last year there, determined to play it exactly as your grandmother had.

You never did manage to master it.

You set down the tea you had only sipped at twice and walked past him into the living room, heading to your piano in a sort of trance. You slid onto the bench, and set your fingers on the keys. Muscle memory took over, the gentle tune coming to life in…how long had it been since you last played this?

You let the music flow through you, gave it access to your heart, allowed it to peer into the deepest parts of your soul, and simply followed the path it created.

“Was it this one?” You asked quietly.

When you looked up at him, his eyes were wide, lips parted as he stared at you with nothing less than amazement. “That– that’s the one. Which– what’s it called?”

“It’s a piece my grandma wrote for my parent’s wedding,” you answered. “She didn’t tell me what it’s called. I’m not sure if it has a name to begin with. She played it for me once, and I,” you huffed out a short, choked chuckle, “I became obsessed. I spent every day as a senior trying to get it right, to play it like she did, but…”

Your fingers slowed into a stop as you looked at them blankly, recalling your attempts, and the disappointment that followed each failure. You memorized it after playing it just twice, but it didn’t help you reach your goal in the end.

You startled when his hand rested lightly atop of yours, his body partially leaned over your shoulder so he could look you directly in the eye. This close, you felt his light breaths as they brushed your cheek. You could see the exact shade and hue of the teal composing his striking irises, match the exact pace of his heartbeat to a sonata, hear him swallow nervously.

“Keep playing,” he rasped, sounding almost desperate. “Please.”

You obliged. How could you say no to him when he looked at you like that? When he requested it so feebly in a trembling voice that was close to cracking? How could you say no when you saw and felt firsthand how his body relaxed when you filled the room with the lilting melody once again?

The music hopped and glided, playful in some parts, somber and tranquil in others. He stayed right where he was, the heat of his stomach resting against your upper back, thawing the tension in your shoulders as his hands held them gently, thumbs rubbing circles into your tight trapezius.

In every way, the ballad reminded you of your grandma, of your parents, of your childhood spent trying to reach a point where you were truly happy with how you played each note.

But, if that was the case…

How come you saw Satoru’s eyes when you closed yours and listened to your own hands dance across the keys?

Why did his smile, his laugh, his touch, his voice, his everything, come to mind when you picked apart every stanza and bar? If you put together all the notes a specific way and decoded them, you swore they’d spell his name.

Your hands drifted and halted as you reached the end of the lilt.

Or, rather, the end as you knew it.

There was a brief pause, then he mumbled, barely above a hum, “is that it?”

“Grandma never showed me how it ended,” you told him morosely. “She said she’d tell me ‘when the time is right’, but…she died before she could.”

He sat beside you and took your right hand into his. His fingers massaged meaningless shapes into the creases of your palm and the smooth plane of the dorsum. Neither of you dared break the silence, mulling in your own worlds.

Satoru was the one to cautiously cross the line of quiet, doing his best to not disturb it. He wrapped his left arm around your back, pulling you into his side while continuing to toy with your dainty digits.

“We’ll find it together,” he whispered.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Truth be told, you never imagined you’d find yourself in this kind of place before – especially not in this position.

Your hand hovered over your brow, shading your eyes from the brilliant sun as it shined low in the sky, kissing the horizon. Though it was setting, the approaching night was warm as ever. A pleasant breeze ruffled the fabric of your dress and caught the strands of your hair that managed to slip loose from the style your mother put them in.

Stars were already beginning to dot the expanse above, glittering and so, so crystalline when you were this far outside the city. You never thought you’d get to see them so clearly, enough to point out individual constellations, and even identify Jupiter and Venus.

You never had a reason to leave the bounds of the city before, so all this was a distant dream you might have had once when you were a teenager.

But here you were, outside a lovely villa, surrounded by friends, family, and loved ones, miles away from where light pollution would dare to touch. The buzzing, lively chatter of dozens of guests filled the air; the clinks of glasses, the clacks of forks and knives on plates, all of it was so animated. You felt like you were in a sort of daze, overwhelmed with happiness to the point that it almost didn’t feel real.

A pair of soft lips pressed against your temple, drawing your attention to radiant, minty-ocean hues.

Satoru gazed at you with nothing short of pure, raw, true adoration. Like every fiber in his body, each and every singular cell, was dedicated to loving you.

“I have one more present left for you,” he murmured against your lips, giving you a chaste kiss right after before he stood up and raised his glass. He tapped the back of his knife gently on the side, creating a chiming noise that settled the ongoing conversations with ease.

Once all the attention was on him, he set both objects down and began speaking.

“I know we’ve already said it a lot, but I wanted to thank you all again for coming here to celebrate this day with us,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “This is truly the happiest day of my life – so far,” he added cheekily, earning him a laugh from the crowd. “So, before all the festivities end tonight, I wanted to do one last thing, if you’d all be so kind as to grant me this moment.”

Of course they would. Satoru was just that type of person. Charisma poured off him in waterfalls, charming anyone he spoke to without effort – you included.

He pushed back his chair, moving to leave. Confused, you grasped his arm and called his name.

There was a glint of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t identify, not with the light tingle of wine sitting in the back of your mind and the overstimulation of the grand day.

“Just listen, baby,” he whispered to you, then he was weaving through the guests, snaking his way to the grand piano situated off to the side of where everyone was situated. “This is a little song I heard many, many years ago, and fell in love with from the first few notes. I’d like to dedicate it to my mother-in-law, father-in-law, their late mother, and I would like to especially dedicate it to my lovely wife.”

Your mother gasped, grabbing your arm as soon as Satoru began playing the familiar melody of the diapason you had been taught ages in the past. It was the one your grandmother played for you, just once. It was the one she played for your mother and father for their wedding. It was the one you played for Satoru, once unknowingly, and every time after that intentionally.

The one he was playing for you now.

Your mother teared up faster than you did, reaching for a clean napkin to dab her eyes with while she waved her free hand at her face, trying to stave off the tears so that they didn’t smear her mascara, though she wasn’t succeeding. Your father was gently shushing her, rubbing her shoulder while he looked between you and Satoru with pride, and you…

You recalled the first time you heard him play the composition his father had written, when you still believed he was just an advanced player. Back then, you felt entranced.

Now, you felt completely spellbound.

You lifted yourself, carefully making your way between the enchanted spectators. Some clutched and squeezed your hand as you passed, and a few others breathed out little congratulations to you, not risking breaking the delicate atmosphere.

By the time you made it to him, your vision was blurry, and he was playing the last line of bars.

The arrangement floated into the placid, halcyon evening, each individual note rising like a star to join the thousands that looked on with bated breath, protecting this little moment of clement apotheosis.

His hands swept across the final few steps, barely touching the keys at all. The concluding tone resounded, fragile and silk-like, followed by a second of calm silence before the crowd erupted with cheers, hoots, and deafening applause.

Satoru rose from the bench, encircling your waist with his arms and pulling you in for a deep kiss. It echoed in you, the sweetest lullaby, the happiest composition that could never be written down identically. It was one only the two of you could hear and feel, one only the two of you could dance, live, cry, laugh, breathe, and love to.

Of all the endings you ever tried to give that precious lullaby your grandmother had written so long ago, the one Satoru created was perfect.

Because you created it together.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

banner by cafekitsune ♥

#jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #fem reader #I'm going light on the tags fn #is this considered light lmao #fluff #jjk fluff

144 notes · View notes

f0xgl0v3 · 5 months

Text

How does one Elias Bouchard hold his Pipe/The overall murder scene

Tw this like entire post is about the proper way to hold a pipe if you wanna effectively hit someone with it several times repeatedly :3 also spoilers for MAG 80

Guys I am simply a writer and this is just for writing and thought experiment purposes, none of this shall or should be applied to real life and it’s just for the haha extended sounds of brutal pipe murder-

What has come to my life-? I’m talking about Elias Bouchard and how he holds the Pipe to murder people- I, there will be actual Percy Jackson stuff soon. Maybe talking about Camp Jupiter and armor and gear and stuff or something however,

Everyone draws Elias with really weird hand positions on the pipe-? That’s a weird thing to say and the art is fantastic but if your beating someone with a Pipe then there seems to be a way I always thought in my head-

Let’s, for the sake that I’m halfway through season 4 consider the only Pipe murder I am currently aware of would be Jurgen Leitner’s, we can work with this. Elias is standing over him at the other side of a desk while Jurgen is seated I believe-? There are a couple ways we can go about this,

1) Elias hits him while they both are in the neutral position at the desk

2) Elias walks over to Jurgen’s side during the conversation and hits him then

3) Jurgen stands up from his chair and then Elias hits him.

I have had to listen to the sound clip so many times for this- I- okay. So, the beginning of the murder still is Jurgen talking, I think audibly a bit worried. I’d like to make the assumption that while Elias is like “bird stuff always a risk about death” that is when the pipe is revealed, Jurgen is taking the moment to try and reason with him and I think 2 and 3 are the most viable due to the sound they use. In 1’s scenario Elias wouldn’t get enough strength in that first swing (due to the desk being in the way, and Elias most likely having to lean over the desk to try and get a strong strike.

Then, the sound- I believe Elias initially hits Jurgen from the side of the head, think like the same ‘row’ that your temples are on, that vague side of the head. Jurgen is heard with a grunt by the first hit; we don’t hear him fall or anything (which makes me suspect it could be a situation of Elias walking over to the other side of the table) and it doesn’t really sound like Elias moves where he hits very much- continuing to strike that original spot; otherwise we’d likely hear the crunch of bone. Am I making the assumption that the sound design would include the crunch and that I would know what hitting a skull with a metal pipe is, oh yeah totally.

Now, that settles how I think this entire thing played out, Elias revealing the pipe as he walks over to the side, Jurgen looks up in old sad man still seated and is trying to reason with Elias, maybe he even attempts to get up and that is when Elias strikes in the right side of his head (just what makes sense to me, it could be the left either it wouldn’t matter much) and repeatedly hits there 11 times (yes I counted the strikes we hear, no I don’t have anything better to do with my time because I’m putting off writing a script) before like dipping or whatever.

Now, the pipe posture if you will. I see so many drawings of Elias’s hands like this,

Raised, and for all intents and purposes from an art sense it’s rad. It’s a dynamic pose and stuff, and of course this is not a critique on artists (who are way better than me) and how they want to draw this fictional man hold his pipe. However this is my brainrot talking on the ‘hey I think this is how he’d get the most effective swing’ because I’ve listened to two seasons back to back and I no longer have a brain.

But; Elias Bouchard wants the most bang for his buck so to speak. I think holding the Pipe like the tried and true baseball bat would provide this. Elias holding it like in my very bad diagram is good if he’d want to poke or stab someone with the pipe, but it’s really effective if you can get that swing in. So yeah, baseball style; hands together near the end of the pipe and over a shoulder or even over his head if you want to be silly with his posing.

Uh, haha okay. I’m sorry but the rot is all consuming and I’ve been thinking about him a lot, also like Peter Lukas and a bunch of the other sillies but this kinda- forced itself out while I was looking at art of the scene. I, uh, :3 that’s all. I like thinking about the mapping and layout and planning of scenes like these and how the visuals might’ve looked if there were visuals. I promise I probably won’t make any more posts like this for a solid while (however, talking about Bryce Lawerence and my thing in SoN are-imagining that he was the one to kill Gwen… maybe.)

#hehe :3 #idk how to tag this #the magnus archives #tmagp spoilers #tma podcast #tmagp theory #this is really stupid #ridiculous even #I’m sorry if you just want to see the funny pjo stuff I post-#elias bouchard #love that sick little rat man #sorry #okay bye

41 notes · View notes

polizwrites · 6 months

Text

PoliZ’s WIP Update - 20 March 2024

A bit slower of a week, with most of my focus on a single work. I touched 4 fics (2 new works & 2 WIPs) for a total of 1835 words.

On Ao3, I posted:

Chapter Seven of A Sugar-Coated Pill - Alpha!Bucky/omega!Tony Sugar Baby AU

Finding a Partner - Steve & Natasha charity gala ficlet.

On Tumblr I posted:

Treading a Rocky Road - platonic/pre-slash WinterIron ficlet.

I’m juggling 17 😬 active/semi-active WIPs with my current deadline being the Post July Break Bingo, which ends in April.

See below cut for what I’m working on/planning to work on - arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc. As always, feel free to send me prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding any of these projects or any other WIPs I’ve got out there. Interaction really helps feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

Stony AUniverse Bingo [SAUB_R1] (ends 15 Feb)

Final count - twenty-one fills for five bingos - hoping this event comes back so I can carry over a couple of squares! Masterpost STILL forthcoming….

Captain (America) Bottom Bingo - Round 2 [CABB] (ends 28 Feb 2024)

I signed up for a 3x3 card for this bingo and managed a blackout plus an adopted square - Masterpost STILL forthcoming!

Post July Break Bingo [JBB_23p] (Ends Apr 2024)

Two fill on my 2x3 non-fandom-specific card - still working on potential crossovers.

* A2 - "You knew?" - matched this up with Chapter Three of my Stony spyfic WIP - Keeping All My Secrets Safe Tonight - it’s coming in at 1079 words and after a bit more editing, should be posting this week or next.

* B2 - Character’s personality is split into two different beings – I’ve never played with Bucky & the Soldier being two different people, but this seems like the perfect opportunity! Will see what might be a good crossover on one of my open cards.

* C1 - Touch Starved – another good fit for a Bucky-centric fic. (Steve or Tony or Clint).

* C2 - “What are we?” Pair up with SRB C5 - Exes to Lovers ?

Steve Rogers Bingo - Round 3 [SRB_R3] (ends 15 Jun 2024)

Thirteen fills and one WIP at the moment - need to ponder other possible crossovers with my non-fandom cards & BaBB.

* A1 - Steve can actually dance just fine - Posted Finding a Partner to Ao3 this morning. It crosses over with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF238 Take My Hand] with Steve & Natasha dancing at a charity gala - potential pre-slash. It came in at 240 words.

* C5 - Exes to Lovers see JBB “What are we?” above

Bucky Barnes Connect Four - Alt Jun-iverse [BBC4_R2] {Ends May 31 2024}

Another fun event from the good folks over at @buckybarnesevents! You sign up for a single row card of four squares and the challenge is to see if you can combine any/all into a single Bucky-centric AU fanwork - although you can also create fanworks that are based on a single or combo of 2-3 squares if you want.

The combo of prompts on my first card [Reality Show, Omegaverse, Talent/Manager, Royalty] sparked an idea that I’m about 230 words + misc notes into already - Alpha!Bucky as a technical prince who gets talked into joining a reality show that is supposed to match him up with an omega… but there’s a twist! Planning to pick this back up in the next week or so.

Hawkeyes Bingo [HB_R2] {Ends TBD}

Just signed up for this fun Tumblr event - got a 3x3 card and and am looking forward to creating more Clint-centric content and trying my hand at a bit of Kate Bishop fic as well!

*A1 - Werewolf AU - wrote Shooting for the Moon - Werewolf!Bucky’s POV on the second half of A Hairy Situation. It came in at 811 words and will get posted to Ao3 sometime in the next couple weeks.

* A3 - Awkward Flirting – this might be a good entry into my first femslash fic with Kate/Yelena?

C3 - "I've never been so humiliated in my life." - filled this on Tumblr last Friday with A Shining Example. Established WinterHawk where a training session goes embarrassingly wrong and Clint gives Bucky a pep talk. It crossed over with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF243 Glitter and Blues] and will get posted on Ao3 before this event ends.

Build-A-Bucky Bingo [BaBB_R1] {Ends Oct 2024}

Another fun year-long event from the folks at @buckybarnesevents! Each month there’s a list of prompts and you choose (at least) one each month for your card!

* November: Crackfic - DONE

* December: Wingman - DONE

* January: Wingfic - DONE

*January: Polyamory - DONE

* February: Fingering - DONE

* February: Morning Sex - DONE

* March: Marriage of Convenience - DONE

* March: Mutual Pining - DONE

* March: Bad Coping Mechanisms - was inspired to combine this with last week’s Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF244 Critical Ice Cream] and wrote Treading a Rocky Road - a bit of platonic/pre-slash WinterIron bonding over a sweet treat. It came in at 437 words and will post to Ao3 before the month is over.

* March: Wrong Luggage - was also inspired to combine this with my WIB - I5 - A/B/O: Scent Bonding square to come up with a meet-cute/meet-ugly WinterIron one shot. A Little Carried Away is coming in at 1200 words and will post either this Friday or next.

WinterIron Bingo Round 2 [WIB_R2] {Ends 16 Dec 2024}

Signups are still open for Round Two of this super-fun bingo event! I got my card and am already working on fills.

* I5 - A/B/O: Scent Bonding - See BaBB March: Wrong Luggage above.

* G3 - Surprise Phone Call - Posted Chapter Seven of A Sugar-Coated Pill last Friday. Alpha!Bucky/omega!Tony Sugar Baby AU where Tony got some consequential news. It came in at 1339 words.

Also trying to figure out what to squish into My Love is Vengeance - as I’ve picked that back up and am 1105 words into Chapter Seven. Maybe the square swap will be kind to me. 😁

Warm and Fluffy Bingo [WFB] (no end date)

Four fills on my card, courtesy of @warmandfluffybingocards - need to try for another crossover or two!

————

On other creative fronts: I am working on a Drusilla figure for a commission. I’ve finished all my Marvel Trumps Hate figures, but still need to create posts (and mail one set).

If you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations, check out Stuffed With Character over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 150!). These soft stuffed figures are mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design requests for any fandom!

#writing stuff #wip wednesday #wip update #shameless self promo

0 notes

theliterateape · 2 years

Text

Let Them Eat Really Expensive Popcorn (and maybe some cake)

by Don Hall

AMC Theatres will begin setting their ticket prices according to where patrons choose to sit in the auditorium, under its Sightline initiative, the company announced Monday.

Seats on the front row are considered Value Sightline seats and cost less, while seats in the middle are called Preferred Sightline and will cost more. The remaining parts of the theater are Standard Sightline seats and will cost the price of a standard admission ticket.

https://apple.news/AlAL99no5QVC-TwObXSQwWg

This is a perception problem more than an actual problem. Similar to the Netflix leaked threat to crackdown on password sharing or those FBI warnings that used to begin every VHS and DVD. Even more like when a young mom tells her child to behave “…or else.” Or else what?

Dedicated movie-goers already endure the ridiculous prices of concessions so an extra couple bucks to sit in the middle isn’t going to stop them from opting in. Casual movie-goers—those perfectly fine waiting the extra month or so until it pops up on some streaming service—aren’t really going to the theater post-COVID anyway. The difficulty, if there is any, is what are theaters going to do if someone pays for the shitty seats up front but sits in the middle anyway?

If videos of people refusing to wear masks on planes or losing their shit at fast food restaurants is any indication, AMC is going to have to hire security and more ushers who aren’t still in high school to mitigate the customer melees over seats.

AMC: “You better sit in your assigned and paid for seat or else!”

PATRON: “…or else what?”

Pragmatically, the theaters are screwed. Without constantly interrupting the thirty minutes of Maria Menounos, her Noovie time-filler, ads for shit I don’t want, and previews—not to mention the first ten minutes of the actual film—there will be no enforcement. Without enforcement, the new pricing structure means jackshit. Sort of like brutal cops killing people—no enforcement of the law and there may as well not be a law in the first place. Free for all, the innocents be damned.

This is a branding problem which is why Netflix leaked their plans to throttle password sharing, got wind of people getting really pissed about taking away something they now feel entitled to, and immediately reversed course. AMC now looks greedy and classist. Sure, they’re using the same pricing idea that live concerts use but Live Nation and TicketMaster are already the worst companies in terms of brand image, why ape them?

If AMC really wants to up the ticket price of already high-priced movie tickets, why not improve the experience?

I’d pay an extra buck if the movie started on time without Noovie or ads. I like the previews but not ten minutes of them. I’d pay an extra two bucks if the theater I went to barred parents from bringing their children unless it’s a G-Rated film. I’d pay an extra couple bucks if, in the multiplex of sixteen theaters, two of them were reserved for indie films and movies made on a shoestring budget. I am a Marvel fan but I really like seeing films like Tár and Aftersun in an actual theater.

But pay extra to get the good seats? Segregate the auditorium into sections based on available expendable income? Not. A. Good. Look. Don’t be surprised if AMC pulls a Netflix and claims they were only contemplating the idea and disregard the whole idea.

I’d still play extra to keep children as far away as possible.

#The rich seats #AMC

0 notes

ana-benn · 3 years

Text

The Enforcer's Gun

Warnings: Smut, mafia AU, Dom/sub, possessive alpha male, gun play, exhibitionism, alcohol consumption (I don't advise copying this part. I've done it and it's a great recipe for a hangover from hell), size kink, thigh riding, object insertion

You'd normally be thriving right now. You had your hair done, a dress that fit well and looks hot as fuck, and honestly you'd spent most of the night getting compliments from random strangers. For all intents and purposes, you were having a good night. Except the one man you wanted to notice how good you looked wasn't paying attention to you.

He was working.

While you could appreciate the fact that he had work to do, you hated how at times like this he could just ignore you. If you'd ever told him that he'd have smirked and informed you that he spoiled you. Which was true, but that knowledge did nothing as you stood at the bar and watched him talking to the owner of the nightclub you were in.

'Contract Negotiations' is what he had called it, but he wasn't exactly in the negotiations business. You flinched as Jordie grabbed the guy by the shoulder and held him fast while Jamie hit him hard in the stomach. You'd learned to find this side of him masculine and entirely too sexy, and you felt the tell-tale slick pool in your panties.

"There you are, you're too good at giving me the slip," Tyler laughed as he saddled up next to you. Normally you'd have Jessi here with you, but she'd just had a baby, so it was you and Tyler. You could've spent time with one of the other girls that'd come, but you didn't exactly like them all.

"That's because you're too busy checking out the sorority girls that just walked it," you quipped. "Why won't this bartender come take my order?" You grumbled as the bartender walked past you yet again.

"He probably saw you walk in with Chubbs," Tyler laughed, signaling the bartender.

"Don't let him hear you call him that in public," you grinned. "He may shoot you."

"Round of fireball shots," Tyler said when the bartender walked over finally. You have him a pointed look and he rolled his eyes, "And a Mai Tai for the lady."

"Plantation rum!" You called to the bartender's back. You rolled your eyes as Tyler laughed at your pout.

"Not everyone is gonna cater to you like Jamie does doll, just the facts," he winked then.

"He's not even catering to me," you grumbled, eyes drifting over to where Jamie was crouched over a bleeding man. Apparently negotiations weren't going well. Or maybe they were, you had no idea. "Why'd he bring me again?"

"You've been asking to come for months," Tyler reminded you.

"And you're baby sitting me because..." You asked.

"Apparently I only do 'pretty things' and this isn't a pretty job. So I got girlfriend duty," he smirked looking down at you.

"Why Mr. Seguin," you gasped in mock outrage. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were flirting."

"Nah, I like my balls where they are," Tyler shrugged. "You picked a jealous one." Just then the bartender lined up the shots in front of the two of you and set your Mai Tai down before scurrying away.

You rolled your eyes, as Tyler handed you a shot. You clinked them together before slamming back three in a row each. It was a ritual you'd developed when Tyler was on baby sitting duty, and you actually enjoyed the cinnamon burn. You tasted your drink, rolling your eyes as you sipped the tinny taste associated with Bacardi, before grabbing the final shot in front of you and dumping it into the tiki drink.

"Really?" Tyler asked with a raised eyebrow.

You shrugged, "I hate Bacardi, you know that."

Tyler just laughed as he threw back his final shot, "Come on I know you wanna dance."

You let Tyler lead you onto the dance floor, one hand securing your drink firmly. You danced with him for a while, forgetting your annoyance at Jamie for working temporarily. You were laughing and having fun, as Tyler would spin you around and sing along with you. It was completely not sexy, but it was fun and comfortable. Tyler was Jamie's best friend, and you felt almost as safe with him as you did your boyfriend. You'd grown to see him like a playful older brother who would tease you and goof around, but the second someone touched you he's fuck them up.

A few songs in though and he leaned into your ear, "I'm going to hit the head. Stay here." You nodded in acknowledgement as he walked away.

In a place like this it wasn't long before the vultures descended, and a decent looking guy moved in to try and dance with you. "Just waiting for my boyfriend," you'd explained.

"It's okay, I am too," he laughed.

You smiled then and danced a little with him then, soon another guy showed up and your partner left. Tyler still hadn't shown up so you decided to go to the ladies room. As you walked out after washing your hands you held the door open with your foot so you could throw your towel away, not paying attention to your surroundings you were startled when rough hands grab you and pressed you against the brick walk across from the bathroom.

You were about to scream when you recognized the bearded face looming over you, "Jamie?" You questioned. "You scared me."

"Did I?" He mumbled as he hiked your skirt up and pushed into your body as a brought a thick thigh between your legs. The immediate pressure made you gasp in delight, as his lips attacked your neck.

"I don't like watching you dance with other men," he growled as you pushed down onto his thigh harder, dragging your soaked pussy along the dark fabric of his pants. Craving the friction and already desperate for him.

"I-I'm...." You were losing what your wanted to say as he again pressed rough kissed over you'd neck, working down into the cleavage of your dress. You moaned softly at the feel, and bucked into his body. His hands on your hubs suddenly stilled you.

"You're going to cum on my thigh little girl," he said darkly. "But first I think I need to remind you who I am."

Suddenly you felt cold metal touch your inner thigh, as his other hand ripped your flimsy panties from your core. He shoved the lace in his pocket as he spread your slick around your weeping hole, before working you open on his thick finger. You responsive body was preening under the attention, and you eagerly bucked into his hand as his palm grazed your clit.

"Fuck baby, you're so wet," he groaned his head falling into your neck. "Whose got you this wet?"

"You do," you moaned out. "Only you."

"Yeah?" He asked, making you whimper as he removed his hand. He slowly worked the cold barrel of his gun into you soaked channel, as he did that he sucked your juices off his finger.

He worked you until the barrel was seated inside you fully. Before he left it there running his hands along your inner thighs and occasionally grazing your sensitive bud. He was teasing you while your cunt quivered around the gun, you felt so full and stretched around it.

You didn't even notice as Jamie pulled out his phone, but when you saw him take a picture of your body split open on his gun you could've cum right then. He smirked when he saw your hungry eyes watch his every move before hiking you up further by pulling your legs over his hips. You moaned as he nuzzled his face into your neck again and worked his mouth over your favourite spot. You knew well that he'd leave a dark bruise there, and you craved it. You craved that mark of ownership maring your skin. Just the idea made you groan with arousal.

You shuttered as your back brushed against the rough wall in the hallway of the nightclub. The exposed back of your dress creating space for the wall to scratch your delicate skin.

"Please you begged," as Jamie's large hands teased you mercilessly, the warmth a sharp contrast to the cold metal in your soaked cunt.

"You want to act like a desperate whore," Jamie growled in your ear, pushing further into your body. "I'll treat you like a whore." He pulled the gun back just enough, before pushing it roughly back into you. "You'll get off on my gun right here, or I'll make sure you don't cum for weeks little girl."

You sobbed. It was rough, and degrading, but it felt like heaven. You wanted to hate this, but the feel of Jamie's hands on you, as he fucked you with a weapon was indescribable. You wanted more, and yet with a flex of his wrist you felt yourself quiver as you orgasmed all over the shiny metal.

"JAMIE," your cried out as waves of pleasure wracked your body.

As you came down he worked the gun out of you before sliding it into the waistband of his pants. He slowly dragged your cunt along his thigh as you just watched, completely blissed out. He grinned at your expression as you went from being in a post-orgasmic haze, to being fully aroused again, to thrashing against him as you came violent with nothing in your oversensitive core.

He let you come down, cooing in your ear has he did so, "Such a good girl for me." He rubbed soothing hands over your arms and back as he just held you.

Once he'd given you a moment to recover he slowly set you down on shaky knees. You watched him as he pulled the gun out and wiped it off, before pulling the clip from his back pocket and reloading it. You gazed at him shocked as you put it together.

"It wasn't loaded?" You asked, causing Jamie to laugh.

"You thought I'd fuck you with a loaded gun? Come on baby, I told you I'd engage your fantasy I'm not putting my favorite girl at risk," he said with a smile. "Now come on your going to keep my cock warm while I finished working out some more details."

He grabbed your hand and escorted you back to where he'd been all night. He was unashamed as he unzipped his cock and impaled you on it, as you stifled a moan as you settled into his chest. You peppered kisses along his neck as you allowed his beard to tickle the side of your face as he spoke. You felt yourself slowly soaking him as your juices slicked out of your body.

Every once in a while Jamie would look at you and smirk as he felt your walls flutter around him. You were on edge and desperate for friction. By the time you were left alone, realizing that the club around you had closed and it was just you and Jamie you were borderline feral for him. You moved to get off of him, so he could take you home and fuck you, but instead powerful hands held you in place. You looked at Jamie, shocked, before he lifted you slowly and brought you back down roughly.

You understood what he wanted and slowly tucked your knees under you. You worked yourself up his cock, before the hands covering your hips brought you back down. Your responsive body trembled at the give and take you were doing with him. His eyes never left you, watching as you worked yourself to the edge again, he wanted to see you come undone.

With no adrenaline in your veins this time your climax came softer, more subtle, you whimpered out as your body quaked around him. Jamie groaned and pulled your lips to his as he reached his own peak. Once he'd calmed himself he slowly lifted you off I've him. Tucking himself back into his pants he slung a lazy arm around your waist before nodding at the bartender you'd dealt with earlier. He threw some cash on a table and ordered him to lock up. You felt you face heat as you realized you hadn't been alone, but ultimately you didn't care.

It had been a good night.

#jamie benn #oh captain my captain #dallas stars #hockey #nhl #dallas hockey #dallas sports #stars dallas #jamie benn appreciation day #jamie benn x reader #jamie benn madia au #jamie benn smut #jamie benn fanfic #jamie benn imagine

115 notes · View notes

princess-of-inarizaki · 4 years

Note

Hi! If you’re taking requests, can I ask for something with Oikawa? Like maybe his knee injury is acting up and Seijoh’s sweet manager (who he of course has a crush on, and she has a crush on him - duh) takes care of him? Thank you, love!

AAAAH sweetheart thank you for this!! I love Oikawa so it was my pleasure to write this. (An anon after my own heart xD I'm melting).

Okay anyways, I hope you enjoy this <3

Taking care of your precious Tooru

Throughout the entirety of practice, you kept a watchful eye on Oikawa. Of course, you looked at him more than usual since you had the hugest crush on him (which makki and mattsun teased you about mercilessly)

But something was different, today. His knee, as you noticed was weaker than usual and he kept favouring the other side so as to not place too much strain on it.

“Oikawa, I think you need to take a time-out” you said gently, as soon as your were sure. “but y/n-chan...”

you simply flashed him a concerned look. A look that plainly said "hey you're not fooling anybody, mister"

Sighing, Oikawa walked over to you and sat on the bench, whilst motioning for the rest to continue their game. The bench was secluded from the training area as a row of lockers separated them (sorta like a makeshift locker room)

“Tooru, love? what were you thinking?” you whispered softly as you knelt down and gently elevated his knee, feeling him wincing in the process.

After he was alright, you began massaging the muscle as you looked up to face him. “don't get hurt, Tooru. I worry when you do.”

Oikawa was having such a hard time masking his feelings then. Not when the two of you were having a moment as intimate as this one. Not when you looked up at him with such concern and adoration.

Oikawa: you really do make it so hard

Y/n: what?

Oikawa: oh nothing. You just make it so hard to resist you. I could kiss you right now if you'd let me.

After relieving some of his pain, you helped him up. “We're going home. I'm walking you back, no arguements, okay Tooru?”

And honestly, how could Oikawa ever argue with you? He nodded as the two of you bid the rest goodbye.

Makki: ten bucks they get together before tomorrow

Mattsun: twenty bucks they get together in the next two hours

Iwa: shut the hell up oh my god let's stop talking about shittykawa.

On the way back, Oikawa gently wrapped his arm around your waist, causing you to blush deeply and smile. “Y/n-chan you smell really good”

“Oh yeah? You're a dork, Tooru” you said though laughs. “no I'm serious. You smell like cupcakes. I could honestly just eat you up right now” which earned him a prompt shove.

His house neared and he dug in his pocket for the keys, unlocking it and gesturing for you to come inside. “I'm sorry it's so messy” he said apologetically and rubbed his neck.

“No that's alright, I'll just make sure you're okay and then I'll leave” you assured him, as you walked into his kitchen to prepare a hot water bottle for him.

After it was ready, you walked up the stairs to find Tooru in bed, scrolling through his phone. “Ah y/n, there you are. Thank you” his face broke into a smile at the sight of you (which really made your heart flutter).

“I'll be leaving now, my love. See you at practice, yeah?” you gently brushed his hair out of his face and turned to leave, but something stopped you.

Oikawa had reached up and pulled your hand, burning passion in his eyes. “I know you brought me a hot water bottle, but you're really warm. Do you want to be my hot water bottle for a little while?”

You blushed as you allowed him to pull you in next to him, his arms immediately wrapping themselves around your waist and burying is face in the crook of your neck.

“I like you, y/n” he mumbled softly. “I like you so much it hurts.”

“I love the way you fuss over me, and treat me so gently. It's like you see me as a person in need of care and not just someone to make use of”

“I want you to play with my hair like this” he whispered as he pulled your hands up to his head “and I want to be able to kiss you like this” as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I want to be yours so badly it's almost like I'm a lovesick fool”

You didn't know what to say and instead just chose to kiss Oikawa's lips gently. “then from here on out, I'm yours. And you are mine.”

He could hardly believe his ears, and just as he was about to say something, you pulled him closer to you and glared “but if you ever overwork yourself or push yourself to the limits I am going to be very upset. You've gotta care about you as much as I care about you, mister”

Oikawa gave you a sheepish grin as he nuzzled into your neck and closed his eyes, seemingly pretending to fall asleep. The action was so cute, it made you fall in love with him all over again.

OH my god. Onto the saga of me finding already completed imagines in my drafts and going "yoooo why have I never posted this?? ;-;" so enjoy !!

Taglist: @tilli-san @dai-tsukki-desu @k-sakusa-old @sunasthing @osamusriceballs

387 notes · View notes

gotnofucks · 4 years

Text

Choose

Written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Halloween Challenge! This is my first time posting here, so be kind 😊

Character pairing: dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve realizes he can’t let you go when you’re stuck in a safe house with him.

Quote: I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Non-con (implied), non-con touching, blackmail, coercion, 18+ only. Please don’t read if you don’t like.

MASTERLIST

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

The rain was falling in torrents and how you made your way through it you would never know. It was only September, but the rain made it much colder and you were so glad that you were in a car with heating on. Steve was driving almost blind and if it were someone else, you would be scared, but it was him and so you let yourself sink into the seat and relax.

“Take my jacket, you look cold” He said as he shot your slightly shivering form a sharp look.

You nod and reach behind to take his jacket and wrap it around your body. You do it without hesitation and with no question. Always so trusting and obedient, at least, when it came to him. You were small, in fact positively diminutive when it came to the super soldier sitting beside you and seemed to drown in his jacket. He smiled when he saw you, and you smile back at his cheeky look.

“How long until we get to the safe house? I am hungry.” You asked, wiggling in your seat.

“Not long. It’s right in the middle of this clearing. Maybe 10 more minutes”, He answered, reaching over to pat your knee in assurance.

“You’ve been there before?”

“Twice. Nat and I set it up just after we took down Shield and then later crashed here with Sam and Buck around 2 years ago. It’s safe and cozy.”

You hum and played with your fingers. It was only going to be the two of you this time. It didn’t bother you all that much. You would rather it be him than anyone else. Well, maybe Tony, but after him you liked Steve the best. You were one of the younger avengers, having been recruited only two years ago by Clint Barton. You used to work for a covert government organization IMF where Clint was undercover for a few years and seeing your talent with a gun and a computer, he had once asked your help in one of his Avengers missions where you met Tony Stark who immediately took a liking to you and trained you under him.

You worked as Tony’s tech girl, helping mostly with recon missions for a few months. Then Natasha started training you for field missions and low and behold, you were kicking ass with them for nearly 6 months now. You haven’t done very difficult missions yet, and not a single solo. Mostly you’re paired with Nat and Clint or, as this time, with Steve. Tony assured you he’ll let you do a solo soon, but always lamented that ever since you got outside, he missed his lab buddy.

You loved these small missions with Steve. He was always patient with you and taught you the drills but didn’t hold back. He would let you take the lead at times and was always proud of even the smallest achievement. At first when you had met, you had been kind if intimidated of his aloofness, but it didn’t take long for you both to bond over cheesy 40s music and your mutual love for art.

“Y/n, we’re here” Steve announced and got out of the car. You followed, grabbing your small bag and ran through the rain to the porch. It was like a getaway cabin and you were so glad you didn’t have to stay in some dingy hole. You wanted warmth, food, and a comfortable place to sleep.

Steve shut the door behind you and took off his wet shoes, putting them upside down near the door. You take off his jacket and your shoes too, grateful to be away from the squelching soles.

“There’s no fireplace” You observe with a pout, and Steve chuckled.

“Y/n, it’s a safe house. The smoke would let people know someone is living here. We don’t want that now, do we?” He gave you an indulgent smile and walked through to the kitchen, starting to unpack the supplies and food.

“But I am cold!” You whine, and for that moment Steve realized your age gap. He gestured for you to come to him while he put the water to boil and you slowly approached him with small steps. Once you are in front of him, he looked at your damp hair and clothes, thankful that his jacket had prevented you from getting too wet.

“You cold, huh?” He asked, hooking a hang around your waist to pull you against his chest. You stumble and steady yourself with both hands against his massive shoulders, your head a couple inches below his shoulder.

“Yeah” You moan, wrapping your arms around his body. “How the hell are you always warm, eh?”

Steve chuckles again and continues to cook while hugging you with an arm around your body. This closeness isn’t new. He would never admit it, but Captain Steve Rogers is a serial cuddler and you are his favourite cuddle buddy. He would cuddle you on the couch during movie nights, he would cuddle you after returning from a tough mission and he would cuddle you when you get your period. Steve Rogers was your best friend, and you felt safe with him. But you didn’t know Steve Rogers wanted to be more than just your friend. He wanted you with him when he went to sleep and when he woke up, he wanted you when he cooked and when he took a shower. No, you had no idea that the National treasure of America was in love with you.

It wasn’t like he was hiding his feelings. He just never came out and said them out loud. Steve often believed that actions spoke louder than words and so he tried to tell you his feelings by doing little somethings for you. He learnt to make your coffee exactly the way you liked, he watched the movies you liked and read the books you read. He learnt to cook vegetarian dishes since you despised any kind of meat. More than anything, he tried to get along with Tony. Tony was your protective big brother/father, and he loved you enough to scare off every man who ever looked at your way. You were the only one in the team to have rooms on the same floor as Tony and you both shared a kitchen. Steve knew that if he wanted you to himself, he needed to get on Tony’s good side. So, he bit his tongue when he wanted to snap and gave his go ahead to things he deeply disapproved of, just to have to build back the old trust. It worked out, since Steve was one of the only people who were allowed a mission with you.

“Will there be hot water for a shower?” You asked, body being warmed by Steve. He looked down at your face, full of childish innocence and stripped off every hardness after a tired mission.

“Maybe, but definitely not enough for both of us” Steve commented. The vegetable stew needed to simmer for a while, so he sat you both down on the worn couch in the living room, your head on his shoulder and his arm still around you. He had hoped you would pick up on his feelings, since having you this close did things to him. Your soft body fit so perfectly into his large one that he never wished to part from you. Maybe tonight would be that night.

“I’ll call Tony and eat. You take that shower and save me some hot water if you can.” You said and took out your phone to let Tony know you were safe and would leave for compound in the morning as planned. Steve looked at you walk away, speaking softly to Tony and wished more than ever that the rain outside would turn into a storm just to prolong your stay. He didn’t get to have you alone a lot at the compound. There were always other people around, always Wanda wanting female company or Peter following you around asking how you impressed Tony. He liked it here in this little cabin, cooking a meal for you after a hard day of work.

“Tony says to leave early tomorrow so we can reach home by lunch. He wants to take me to meet Stephen Strange” You say suddenly, breaking out Steve from his domestic fantasy.

“Stephen Strange? Why?”, he asked, frowning.

“Tony and him and doing some weird wizard-avenger collab in that Nepal place- what is it called, Kamartaj- for a few weeks”, you answer.

“What’s that got to do with you?” Steve asked, slightly irritated and hands curing into fists.

“He’s taking me along. Says he doesn’t want me away for so long. Also, this wiz, Dr. Strange, he’s apparently some kind of genius. Tony says I can learn a lot from him. But I think it’s just a ruse. I’m pretty sure they are dating, and he just wants me to meet him”, You say with a fond smile. Steve doesn’t smile or say anything.

Weeks? You’d be gone for weeks? That too in another country without him. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.

“You wanna go?” He asked in what he hoped was a normal voice. He wanted you to say no, wanted to see that hesitation in your eyes as you thing of being away from him for weeks, maybe months.

“Sure, I think it would be fun. I wanna see the Himalayas and maybe I’ll visit India too. I’ve got a pen friend there who I’d love to meet.” Your reply was so nonchalant that for a moment Steve just stares, and then he is angry. Here was a perfect chance for you and him to spend time away from the overbearing presence of Tony Stark, but you would rather see snow covered mountains and meet a pen friend in India? He’d only thought you were being a little oblivious of his feelings, maybe deliberately trying not to acknowledge them as you wanted to take it slow. But it seems like you…it seems like you felt nothing beyond friendship for him at all. After all those months spent hugging and laughing together, and yet you would rather choose Tony over him. A rage settled over him and he needed to clench his jaw and curl his arm tight around the back of the couch to stop himself from grabbing you and…and doing things he had rather not do.

“Take that shower. Leave your wet clothes outside, I’ll see what I can do with them” Steve said suddenly.

“You sure you don’t want a shower too? We’ve got layers of grim from crawling through that tunnel.” You asked.

Steve looked at you for a minute, eyes rowing over your small face. He took in the little acne scars you were so self-conscious about, your slightly chapped lips and those beautiful eyes that reared him in. He nodded.

“Yeah, you go on. I’ll see if I need one” He said and went to the kitchen while you left for the bedroom with the connected bathroom.

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

The bathroom was nicer than you had hoped, probably Nat’s doing if the products where anything to go by. You’d removed your wet clothes outside and stood naked under the stream of warm water, sighing with relief. It was a small mission but brutal on your body. It would have been heaven to have a tub in here, but safe houses were meant to be quick and effective, and this one was way better than others, so you didn’t complain. You were just going to wash your hair when the bathroom door opened, and Steve entered.

“Steve!” You shouted, hands covering your breast and turning so your back was to him. You looked at him with wide eyes, expecting him to sputter and leave but he stayed, eyes lingering on your ass a bit before meeting your eyes.

“Got any of that hot water left or have you finished all of it?” He asked, taking off his t-shirt and leaving his chest bare.

Your mouth opened in surprise as your backed yourself into the corner, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your best friend had just barged into your bathroom while you were showering and showed no signs of leaving.

“W-what are you doing, Steve?” You asked in a small voice, still covering yourself with your hands the best you could.

“Taking a shower. I told you we didn’t have enough water for two, so I thought I’d join you. You were right anyway, we are grimy.” He said and fumbling a bit, dropped his pants down too. You panicked, not understanding what was happening as Steve stood in his boxers, taking steps towards you.

“No. No no no no” You almost chanted that as a mantra, eyes going here and there, not knowing what to do. Steve reached your small body crowded into the corner and slowly, very slowly raised a hand to wipe away the dirty on your cheek. You started at his touch and quickly sidestepped, running towards the door. You didn’t know what had gotten into Steve, but you needed to get out of here. Now.

You’d taken only two steps before a hand wrapped around your waist and brought you back screeching to a hard chest, back against front.

“Stop. Steve, let me go. Please.” You said, your tears mingling with the water on your skin, one hand across your chest and other on his wrist trying to pry it off.

“No sweetheart, you need to take this shower. You’re dirty and tired. Come.” You hated his voice for being soft and soothing still, showing no indication of what he was doing to you. His voice was still your Stevie’s voice, calm, cool, a little commanding and full of affection for you.

“I- Steve, I don’t want a shower. Not like this, please.” You tried to break away, wiggling and crying but Steve didn’t listen and dragged you back and turned on the water again. You both were bombarded with hot water and stood under it for a minute before Steve turned it off again.

“Gimme that shampoo, I’ll do your hair.” He said, releasing you from his hold. But it wasn’t any good as you were blocked by the wall on your back and Steve at your front. You hadn’t turned around yet, but now you did. Sobbing, with thighs squeezed tight to hide you down there and hands inefficiently covering your breasts, you looked at him with betrayed eyes. You didn’t try running again. You knew his strength; you have trained with him. He could take you down in seconds.

“Why are you doing this? What is happening?” Your voice was small and broken, sending a pang through Steve’s heart. He loved you and didn’t want to hurt you, but you needed to see his feelings for you. He couldn’t risk you going away for months. He just couldn’t. His eyes slowly moved down from your face, taking in every inch of your body exposed, not touching, only looking.

“We’re taking a shower after which we will eat our food while we watch some stupid movie on that laptop of yours. Then, we’ll cuddle and sleep with you on my chest and tomorrow morning you will call Tony and tell him you won’t join him for his trip to Nepal.”

He was mad. He was insane, you were sure of it. Face burning with humiliation under his gaze, fire began sparking in your eyes. How dare this tall buff blond muffin think it okay to invade your space and demand such things from you? Just who the fuck did he think he was.

“No. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but you need to stop. Get out, or if you want to shower, let me go out. I’m done with whatever game you are playing.” You sneered at him. Steve had to smile at this, his little spitfire. He didn’t really expect you to give in easily, that’s not the girl he knew and trained. You were with the avengers because you could handle stuff others would wet themselves with. You were strong and he knew that. But he was stronger.

“What’s gotten into me?” He asked, closing the distance between you so you were against the wall and caged by his arms on either side. His face was inches away and your breathing sped up. He looked cruel and menacing, the blue eyes you loved so much taking on a much darker hue. “You have gotten in me. You got under my skin and in my thoughts and in my heart. Now I want you under me.”

He bent down and you were sure he was going to force a kiss on your mouth but he surprised you by pressing his lips softly on your forehead like he did when you had nightmares or right before a mission. It was a kiss of reassurance and love, and somehow, that just scared you more. Whatever Steve thought he was doing, he believed it was driven by love. And when Steve loved someone, he loved them without abandon. If he went against everyone to save his friend, what would he do to have you?

“Steve…please…” You didn’t know what to say or what to do. You wanted to get away from him and cover yourself up to get some control back. You wanted to talk to him and forget this ever happened and get back your best friend.

“You have two options. First, we both take a bath right now. I won’t touch you where you don’t want me to, we eat, and sleep and you go back with me to the compound like a good girl and tell everyone we are together. Or..” His eyes narrowed here, “Or, I could take you right here, right now and make you mine with little option. I could rail you deep and hard so you will feel me deep inside you for days on end. I know you’re not on birth control and I have no condoms with me, so if you get pregnant, you best believe I’ll have you tied down to myself with a ring on that finger by the end of the month. The choice is yours.”

Your heart sank. You looked into his eyes, your whole body shaking and knees ready to give up. He was serious! He was absolutely serious, and you had no idea what the fuck happened. Just an hour ago you were sure he was the person who made you feel the safest, but now that sanctuary had been torn apart and some possessive stranger had taken its place.

“You’re insane. You’ve lost it!” You cry, sliding down the wall as your knees collapsed, folding your knees to hide your nakedness. Steve followed you down and wrapped his arms around your small form.

“I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched. You own me, my heart and soul. And soon, I’ll have you too. How that happens is your choice. Choose.” His tone bore no argument. You had just one card to play.

“Tony would never stand for it. He’ll find out, I’ll tell him and then you’ll be done.” You made your tone harsh and full of venom. You don’t know what you expected him to do, but it definitely wasn’t laugh. It was an amused chuckle, like a daddy who was indulging his silly daughter, full of patronizing hilarity.

“Sweetheart, you don’t think I have a plan for that? Even if I spend months bringing you flowers and singing love ballads from your window, he wouldn’t exactly be convinced. He isn’t exactly fond of me, is he? I had a plan in place for months. I didn’t want to have to use it honestly, I wanted you to come to me of your own violation. But I just thought as a back up plan…” You screamed as he suddenly scooped you up in his arms, still wet and naked and carried you out to the bedroom. He deposited you on the bed and gave you a towel that you hastily covered yourself with. You looked behind you and the door was locked. It wasn’t any use anyway; he could outrun you in his sleep.

Steve got his phone out and showed you the screen, making your heart drop. There were numerous pictures of you with your family and friends from the past two years. Not just those, pictures of you with your previous team, the IMF, Ethan Hunt, and others. How Steve got these pictures you didn’t know, but it scared you.

“Everyone, every single person in these pictures has a target on their backs. I have had a sniper after all of them for over a year, mostly just to keep an eye on you and to make sure you are safe. But don’t think for one second that I will hesitate to take them out. There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep you with me.” He sat beside you on the bed and putting a finger under your chin turned your face towards him. “It doesn’t need to be nasty, sweetheart. I don’t want to be the bad guy. I have never been one and you can keep me from doing anything drastic. All you need to do is convince Tony that you are the one who wants me. You are the only person he actually trusts, so you need to make it believable. He has denied you nothing, and if you come to him yourself and tell him you want me…well…no one has to die, do they.”

This was a nightmare. Everything that has happened to you today is a nightmare. You didn’t want to believe Steve would hurt anyone, but then you didn’t think him capable of forcing him on you either. If there was even the tiniest bit of chance that he could harm anyone of your friends and family…no. You couldn’t let that happen.

“Option one”, You whispered softly, eyes downcast and lips trembling.

“What was that?” Steve asked, turning your face up again so he could look in your eyes.

“I choose option one. We- We eat and sleep and I call Tony I won’t go with him. Then we can tell everyone we are together.”

Steve grinned, his happy grin that everyone said only you brought out in him. It unnerved you that a man you loved and respected so much was doing this.

“My good girl” He praised, and then he leaned down and pressed his mouth on yours. The kiss was gentle and soft, his mouth lazily moving against yours. If it were happening any other way, you would have enjoyed it. He broke away and looked at you with eyes that sparkled. “You’ll love me too, one day. I am yours, and you are mine.”

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

True to his word, you guys ate your dinner and watched a movie as you cuddled like you usually did at movie nights. Steve held you close, sometimes brushing his nose against the side of your neck or rubbing his hand along your sides. Afterwards, he laid down beside you, spooning your small body and holding it snug against his. He was warm, and you didn’t have anymore fight in you for today. The day was too fast and weird for you to process. You vowed to sleep now and to think of a way to get to Tony without arousing Steve’s suspicion. You weren’t ready to give up now.

You’d been asleep for only a couple hours before you felt cold air around your body. You woke up with a start and found yourself on your back, your t-shirt removed and Steve hovering over you, placing open mouth kisses along your bare chest.

“Steve! Steve stop!” You screamed, pushing against his chest. He looked at you with eyes blown wide with lust and taking your hands in one of his, he held them up while he tweaked your nipple with his other making you squirm. He bent down and swallowed your protests with a deep kiss, his tongue forcing its way inside your mouth and tasting you while he moaned.

“Steve please,” You were sobbing now, and trashing your legs which he held down with a strong thigh. “You…you promised. You said I get to choose. I chose option one”

Steve looked at you for a moment then kissed your cheek softly. Moving his hand between your thighs he murmured in your ear, “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t wait anymore”

#rooshalloweenficfest #steve x reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve x you #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!fic

1K notes · View notes

duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

Fuck Misogyny

request: Bucky uses his newly gained knowledge of feminism to squash misogynistic interview questions. @ptrs-prkrs

warnings: language, creepy men, feminist!bucky

a/n: hey babes!! i hope this lived up to what you wanted! i couldn’t find the exact video you were referencing but i know what you’re talking about, so i drew inspiration from a few others.

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

full m.list

The set up was simple. A long row of fold out tables covered in black fabric, microphones in front of each seat. Black papers were taped to the backs of the microphones with each team member's name. Bucky had told Evie that he wasn’t going to be able to work out with her today because of this so it better be worth it. The PR manager for the team, Amanda, had set everything up. Hired the mediator, notified the press, everything. Ever since they announced that they were going to be hosting an Avenger’s Q&A Panel, the internet quite literally broke.

Of course Bucky had been doing lives on TikTok with the group of five for the past couple of weeks now, so he was becoming quite comfortable in this format. He’s become increasingly active on his social media accounts, gaining more and more followers everyday. Granted, there were still haters, as Freddie called them, but Bucky ignored them for the most part.

Bucky was actually excited for this press meeting. He was finally gaining traction in the media and he knew how to correctly answer their questions. As Amanda had explained, there was going to be several questions from the mediator, tons from the press that they had invited, and then some fan questions as well. They apparently were going to be live streaming the conference on YouTube allowing them to read the comments and questions as it went on.

“Okay, everyone. You have two minutes until we start.” The team was in an empty board room in the Hilton hotel. Tony didn’t want everyone on the compound’s grass because he just had it fixed. Bucky scanned his fellow teammates. It was impossible for everyone to dress for the same event. Steve was wearing a shirt that was almost bursting at the seams with a pair of jeans and sneakers.

Tony was wearing a lovely Tom Ford, three piece, two-button, of course. Natasha and Wanda were wearing ripped jeans and casual tops. Vision was wearing a sweater vest and slacks, Bruce was clad in slacks as well a jacket covering his shoulders. Sam was wearing a button-up shirt and pressed jeans and he couldn’t find Clint anywhere, probably hiding in the rafters again.

Bucky had his iconic leather jacket donning his shoulders, a pair of slightly ripped jeans. His outfit was picked out by Cassie and Penny. “You need to look like you care but like you don’t at the same time.” Is what they said, the phrase made Bucky shake his head. His hair had finally started growing back and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it.

He had gotten help from Evie before he left Cassie’s apartment. She had pulled back the top half, braiding back two sections into the bun at the back of his head. There were pieces dangling in front of his eyes, “to accentuate the facial features, trust me they’ll love it.” Was Evie’s explanation as they pushed him out of the apartment, so he wouldn’t be late.

“Alright guys! They’re calling your names!” The team filed out of the board room and into a large ballroom. Bottles of water were placed beside each placemat. Tony went out first, followed by Steve, then Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Vision, Sam and ending with Bucky. They all settled into their seats, Bucky peeled his jacket off himself, placing it on the back of his chair. His black short sleeved shirt highlighted the gold inlays of his vibranium arm.

“Oh, I see we’re showing some muscle today huh, Buck?” Sam teased as Bucky took his seat next to him. Bucky groaned in realization, covering his microphone so it didn’t pick up what he planned to say.

“Good God, is this what it’s going to be like the entire panel? You just bugging the shit outta me?” They shared a laugh making the rest of the members look at the pair. The audience clapped as they were introduced and continued clapping as they assembled before them.

“Thank you. We would like to welcome everyone to the first, of hopefully many, Avenger’s Q&A Panel.” The female mediator, Stacey, read the assigned lines off the sheet on her podium. “We are going to start with questions we curated for the team and then open it up to the members of the press. After that we will turn to our live stream and answer some viewer questions.” The press rustled in their seats, pulling out pens and journals as well as their phones to record. “Okay, starting off with a question directed at the Avengers in general. How are you feeling about coming before the media in this type of format?” Glances were exchanged between the members, not sure on who was going to start.

“I feel that this is a great way for the general public to learn a little bit more about each individual team member.” Vision was the first to respond and Steve added on.

“Yeah, I definitely think that there’s a common misconception that we don’t want to engage with the media or the general public. We do, unfortunately due to the amount of research and training that we are doing behind the scenes, it just goes to the back of our minds.”

“Right. So Tony and Bruce, we all know that you two are geniuses. What are your feelings on expanding the teachings of STEM courses to not only high school, but as far back as elementary school or even kindergarten?” The pair thought about the question before answering.

“Well, I definitely think that offering STEM-based classes at a younger age would be beneficial, especially if we were to allow the kids to continue to switch what they want to focus on.” Bruce started. “It’s incredibly anxiety-inducing for teenagers to have to decide what they’re going to do with their life right before they are thrust into an unforgiving world.”

“Yeah, I’ll never understand why we do that to our future leaders, it’s honestly baffling. Why do American schools wait until high school to require our children to learn foriegn languages, they aren’t going to retain that information. The same applies for such comprehensive courses like STEM-based ones. If you wait until their brains are already developed so far, then they’ve already decided what they think is interesting and if they don’t find those courses interesting then they aren’t going to pay attention.” Tony finished Bruce's thought before nodding to each other smugly, obviously proud of themselves for answering the question so well.

“Interesting that you see it that way. This last one goes out to everyone and then we’ll open it up to the reporters. How do you deal with the stress and anxiety that comes with being an Avenger? Do you feel a certain amount of pressure to always do the right thing?” Stacey shuffled her papers, tapping them twice on the podium.

“We all have our own routines and ways that we decompress after missions so that really just depends on the person. Like I think that Bruce listens to opera music, and Wanda mediatates, Tony tinkers. It depends on the person.” Natasha answered concisely, making Bucky nod his head. He could recall all of those things to be true.

“Oh definitely, and it doesn’t hurt that we have a former VA Trauma Counselor on board to help us work through the harder stuff.” Steve added a gesture of his head to Sam.

“Speaking of that Sam, just a quick question before we open it up. How difficult was it for you to transition from regular Air Force missions to Avenger level missions?” Sam made a face at Stacey before answering.

“Um, I mean, it’s not that different. You’re always fighting one of the Big Three-- aliens, androids, or wizards, no matter what department you’re working with. The only transition I had to deal with was the Tony Stark-erized suits. Now that I think of it, Tony, can we make it tighter?” Sam quipped making the room laugh with ease.

“Alright, well now we’re going to open it up to the reporters. Starting with this gentleman in the front and then if we could also give a microphone to someone on that side of the room. Okay, thank you.” The first reporter stood up, holding the microphone in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Hello. John from Huffington Post. The Avengers inspire almost everyone around the world, so we would like to know who inspires you? Who do you look up to in terms of your idols?” He sat back down as the team contemplated their answers.

“Gandhi.” Bruce said, Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at him then added. “Pepper, she’s so amazing.” Steve looked down to Bucky, who shrugged.

“I would probably have to say that my sister, Sarah, inspires me. She raised her two sons, Cas and AJ, by herself after the Blip and was able to keep the family business going.” Sam’s answer made Bucky smile. Sam had brought him to their house in Delacroix, he remembered waking up to Cas and AJ playing in the kitchen, happy giggles filtering through reminding him of his time in Wakanda. By the time that Bucky had refocused on the conversation they had moved on without his answer. Several different questions went by, all directed to the team at large, until Chad.

“Hi, I’m Chad for the Daily Mail. My question is for Wanda and Natasha.” The pair of women perked up, excited to have a specific question. “Do you find that your equipment hinders you in doing your job as well as your male counterparts?” Stunned expressions settled over the womens faces, then annoyance. Bucky’s brows shot up to his hairline, appalled that someone had the balls to ask that. Wanda and Natasha handled the question with grace and much more restraint than Bucky would have.

“Well for me, I am able to move things with my mind so I can throw things randomly at people even if I’m not in the room. I’ve been very fortunate to work with Natasha who has Widow training, so my hand to hand combat is improving immensely. And being able to work with Princess Shuri in Wakanda to learn how to fully control my powers. It’s an ever evolving process that I’m always excited to take on.” Bucky nodded and turned his attention to Natasha.

“My favorite thing is training with either Steve or Bucky because they push me to do my best. We all have our specialties here and it’s nice to learn new skills or improve old ones with people who support you.” Natasha sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, throwing daggers with her eyes at Chad in the audience, waiting for him to say something else. Chad stood again, yelling so he could be heard over the crowd’s commotion.

“That’s great, ladies, but forgive me, you didn’t answer the question I asked.” Bucky pushed forward in his seat, leaning into his microphone.

“I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood what you asked them then. I would like for you to clarify what you mean by equipment.” Chad balked, not expecting a male’s voice to respond.

“You know what’s implied by equipment, sir.” Bucky’s jaw clenched at the man.

“Did you just ask two of the most capable women that I’ve ever known, if their equipment, which I’m assuming you’re referring their breasts, made it to where they couldn’t do their job as good as the rest of their male counterparts. Just to be clear, that’s what you’re asking?” Chad stuttered as he answered yes.

“Right, well first off that’s disgusting. Just a bit of background for you, Wanda is the strongest Avenger here, plain and simple. As for Natasha, she’s the smartest woman I’ve ever met and she can take down every single male here.” Bucky took a breath before continuing. “So, what I think you really want to know is how they encourage their teammates to keep up with them.” He dropped his head to look at the two women down the line.

“Don’t worry Chad, I’ll ask them the right question, since you can’t quite seem to understand how to respect women.” The team was holding back snickers at Chad’s reaction. “Wanda, Natasha. Chad wants to know how the hell you push your male teammates to be just as good as you are. What are your strategies to keep us on our toes while training?” Claps sounded from the women press members and Bucky awaited the pair's response. The next press member stood and asked a question.

“Hi, I’m Chloe from Vanity Fair. This question goes to everyone on the panel.” Bucky settled in for another question that didn’t matter. “How do you continue to be aware of things happening in our society today? Do you keep up-to-date through new channels, or social media?” The answers were rather generic from the team, all of them rather uncomfortable from the tension that Bucky and Chad had created. Stacey interrupted after Chloe’s question.

“Okay, we’re going to open it up to viewer questions from our live stream.” An iPad was placed on the podium in front of Stacey and her eyebrows rose. “Okay, there’s quite a variety here. Here’s one for Steve and Bucky.” Bucky perked up, nervous to answer because his adrenaline had worn off.

“One viewer asks, ‘Steve and Bucky, being from the 40’s, women were treated like second thoughts and were talked about like objects. Now, you’re in the 21st century, not much has changed. What have you been doing to support feminist causes?’”

“I just want to say that everyone should be answering this. It’s true that during the 40’s women were not treated the right way, and they still aren’t today. An 18 year old can’t walk down the street at nine o’clock at night without being catcalled. I am a proud feminist, as everyone should be. I think that as a team we are doing pretty well in that department. As far as what I’m doing to support feminist causes, I’m doing as much as I can. I actually recently enrolled in online classes to expand my knowledge on many subjects, seeing as how I am from the 40’s and all.” The crowd laughed along with Bucky.

“Almost all of my classes have to do with either psychology or gender studies, it’s a fascinatingly haunting subject. One book that I’m reading right now was suggested to me by my friend Cassie, it’s called Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women that a Movement Forgot. The author doesn’t let up and I’m only halfway through it. Look, I’m still educating myself, but I’m a strong believer in doing what is right for everyone, so I’m trying. Thankfully I have a few people keeping me in check as far as my actions.” Bucky thought his response was well thought out for being an on the fly question. He was new to the concept of feminism but that didn’t change the fact that it made total sense.

“I’m with Bucky on this. The 40’s were a rough time. I remember the first time I met Peggy Carter, I was astonished that a woman could be in such a powerful position. One of the first things she did after I met her was punch out someone who made a sexual comment to her. I’ve been supporting feminist causes ever since working with Peggy.” Steve added, a sad smile spreading on his face reminiscing Peggy.

“This one says, ‘As a total fan of all of you, I love seeing what you post on your social media accounts. When are the rest of the Avengers going to follow Bucky’s lead and download TikTok?’” Bucky’s head flew back into a full body laugh. Tony shifted forward in his seat, pointing his finger at the laughing man down the table.

“I would just like to say he didn’t get that approved before doing it. However, it did go over really well, so we’ll consider it.” Wanda’s mouth rolled inwards, stifling her laughter.

“We’ll consider it, you’re such an old man. Most of us have TikTok already, we just don’t make content on it like Barnes over here.” Sam said, tossing his head in Bucky’s direction.

“I’ve got like three videos on there!” Bucky and Sam began bantering back and forth.

“Yeah and one of them is dancing to a Cardi B song! Who even showed you that? I thought you only like 40’s music?” Bucky made a face at the man.

“Uh, just because I didn’t like your suggestions for music doesn’t mean I don’t have taste. My Spotify playlist is filling out quite nicely, Wilson.” Bucky and Sam didn’t quit fighting from then on, just little jabs at each other under the table.

“Here’s a good one,” Stacey had a smile on her face, “Are you allies of the LGBTQ+ community?” Bucky responded quickly with no hesitation.

“Yes, many of my friends are members of the Alphabet Mafia. Why wouldn’t we be?” Wanda nodded at his question, laughing at his use of the phrase Alphabet Mafia.

“Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I’m dating a fucking android, I’d be pretty hypocrictal if I wasn’t an ally. Nat, Clint what about you?” Clint bobbed his head in response.

“Oh yeah. We all are, even the Star Spangled Man with a Plan.” Steve’s shoulders shook with laughter at Clint’s nickname for him. The team broke out into laughter, joining Steve. Stacey cleared her throat, commanding the attention of the room again.

“Alright, everybody! That’s it for today.” She glanced down at her papers. “We would like to thank everyone for coming out today and joining the Avengers Q&A Panel. At this time we are unaware, if we will be conducting another one of these, but the odds look good based on the response.” The team filed out of the ballroom and into the empty boardroom. Bucky was the last to get into the room and he was approached by Natasha and Wanda immediately. Wanda wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug.

“That was so sick, Bucky!” She stepped back and Natasha offered him a side hug as well. “Where’d you learn all that? And since when are you taking online classes?”

“That guy was being an asshole, he needed to be put in his place. I hope you guys didn’t feel like I overstepped or anything.” Bucky hung his arm over Wanda’s shoulder, leaning his weight on her. “And I started about two months ago. They’re going really well, I’m learning a lot and enjoying it surprisingly. It’s a good thing to do in my free time since I’m not always on missions.”

“I’m proud of you James, that was impressive.” Natasha complimented him, she wasn’t usually a woman of many words so that was a lot. Bucky smiled at her, nodding his head. His phone began buzzing in his back pocket, so he excused himself from their conversation. His screen displayed one of Evie’s senior pictures, signalling that she was calling him. He pushed the green button and brought the phone to his ear to answer her call.

“Hello?” She ignored his greeting with a squeal.

“Check your Twitter! Bucky, you’re trending! Here I’m putting you on speaker, we’re all here Buck!” Shuffling noises were heard through the speaker as Evie began reading the tweets to Bucky. Laughs from Cassie, Freddie and Penny could be heard behind Evie’s voice.

“Oh my gosh Eve! Just let the man get back to what he was doing!” Freddie yelled at an excited Evie, who retaliated with a scoff.

“Okay, okay! Just remember we have a movie night tomorrow! It’s Penny’s turn to pick so we don’t know what to expect.” Evie mumbled the last part into her phone speaker. Bucky heard the impact of a pillow hit Evie, causing her to grunt in pain. “Okay! We’ll talk to you later, Buck! See you soon!” She hung up the phone before he could get a word in edgewise. Bucky shook his head as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Amanda approached Bucky asking to speak with him privately.

“So we’re getting a flood of interview requests from networks and papers. We would like to start running with this. We’ll have to go over everything with our PR guy, Ryan, but it should work out. As long as you’re comfortable with all of this.” Bucky smiled and nodded, following after Amanda as she continued explaining what would happen going forward.

He was nervous, of course, but he could tell these nerves were coming from a place of excitement instead of fear, which was a new sensation for the man. It wasn’t unwelcome, it was the same as when he first started hanging out with Cassie, Penny, Freddie and Evie. It was the same when he went on his first mission with the team. Bucky was ready to tackle this next adventure, whatever it would entail.

139 notes · View notes

buckleyblueyes · 3 years

Note

For buddie: 23 & 56

Performer AU + Awful First Meeting. Yes, I did stretch the definition of "performer" and what about it?

Eddie "Diablo" Diaz is Major League Baseball's most infamous hothead. He's arrogant, he's obnoxious, and worst of all, after making baseball history by pitching three no hitters in a row, and leading the Texas Rangers to two consecutive world series titles, he might just be justified in thinking so highly of himself.

Of course, the people who know Eddie best, his family and his teammates, know better. The Eddie they know is a loving single father who is so insistent on not leaving his son alone that he hired a private tutor, Carla, to homeschool him, just so he can take Christopher with him when he has to travel for work without disrupting his education. The Eddie they know is funny and kind and would do anything to keep playing baseball.

Including pretending to be an asshole on national TV so the franchise can sell merchandise with "Diablo Diaz" and little devil horns on it--all the big players have personas, Eddie. If the Giants can sell stuffed pandas in little jerseys, we can sell the devil--and who is Eddie to say no when his contract is on the line? So, when the fans and camera are watching, Eddie becomes an entirely different person.

He'd hoped that getting traded to the Los Angeles Dodgers would be a fresh start for his public image, but unfortunately the team manager Athena has other ideas. She sought him out to intentionally stir up controversy (well, and because he's a great pitcher), and she's not about to pass up the opportunity to make money off the Diablo Diaz persona.

Luckily, his teammates all seem to understand that "Diablo" isn't really him. He makes fast friends with the Han brothers, Chimney and Albert (catcher and shortstop, respectively), and the team doctor Hen Wilson (if Eddie hadn't been drafted to the major league, sports medicine had been his backup), during Spring Training, and he feels more supported by Bobby Nash than he ever has by any of his previous coaches.

Opening Day at Dodger Stadium comes on a crisp April afternoon, and while Eddie is nervous to throw the first pitch, by the second inning he’s feeling a lot better. By the time Bobby pulls him out and puts in the relief pitcher, Ravi, he’s feeling pretty good. As he’s walking off the field between innings, though, his attention is caught by the mascot, a brown dog in a blue Dodgers uniform, who is waving him over. Eddie scoffs and shakes his head in an exaggerated fashion: Diablo Diaz doesn’t play with mascots. The mascot keeps trying, though, and so Eddie does something a little stupid and puts one leg out to purposefully trip the mascot. It’s a tried and true older brother move, one that Adrianna and Sophia hate.

And it works. The mascot topples over into the dirt, and Eddie heads to the dugout. Chimney gives him an incredulous look and he just shrugs. He knows it was a little extreme, but he has a role to play here.

A few weeks later, Chimney invites him out for drinks with Albert, Hen, Hen’s wife Karen, Chimney’s girlfriend, Maddie, and Maddie’s brother, Buck. Eddie accepts easily. Eddie has a great time. Well, almost. See, Karen and Maddie are great, but Buck? Buck won’t give Eddie the time of day. According to everyone else, he’s a human golden retriever, sunshine personified. But for some reason he just hates Eddie’s guts.

It’s a damn shame, since the man is drop dead gorgeous.

After a few similar outings and gatherings, Eddie finally snaps. “What’s your problem, man?” “Okay, you. You’re my problem.” “Why?! What did I ever do to you?” “Seriously? Maybe if I lie down face first on the clay, you’ll recognize me then!” Buck stalks off, and oh. Oh. Oh, fuck.

Buck’s the mascot. Eddie flashes back to the look Chimney had given him on Opening Day and suddenly it all falls into place. Immediately he goes to find Chimney. “Why didn’t you tell me Buck was the mascot?!” “I thought you knew...” “No! You said he was an actor!” “Well, he is.”

So, now Eddie knows why Buck hates him, but he’s not really sure what he can do about it besides try to show Buck that he’s not actually an asshole. But it’s hard to do that when so many of their interactions involve Buck in a ridiculous mascot costume and Eddie contractually obligated to be a dick. Eventually it comes to a head on the 4th of July.

Eddie is ducking out of the team party early, and Buck just can’t help but make a snide remark. “Too good to hang out with the rest of us?” he sneers. Eddie grits his teeth. “Actually, I have to go home to my son.” Buck looks shocked. “You’ve got a kid?”

“Christopher, he’s my world.” He shows Buck a picture on his phone.

“He’s super adorable, I love kids.” Buck’s entire demeanor has softened now, to the point where Eddie thinks he might be receptive to an apology, so he sighs and puts his phone away..

“Look, I’m sorry about how I act during games, and about tripping you. But you have to know that it’s all a performance. A marketing scheme. It’s not really who I am.”

“Oh.” Buck shakes his head. “I feel really dumb now.”

“Don’t worry about,” Eddie smiles. “Let’s just start over. Friends?”

Buck shakes his hand and returns his smile. “Friends.”

Of course, the “friends” thing can only last so long because Buck is, as previously mentioned, gorgeous. But he’s also thoughtful and sweet and endearingly dorky now that he doesn’t think Eddie is a total dickhead, not to mention Christopher adores him. So, yeah, Eddie’s a goner. Lucky for him, it kinda seems like Buck might be just as gone.

They’re together by post-season. Somehow, Albert won the bet.

#buddie #can you tell I like baseball #the dodgers don't have a mascot in real life #anyways baseball player!eddie is a god tier concept imo

48 notes · View notes

whatsupmrstark · 4 years

Text

Bare

Peter parker x stark! Reader (aged up peter ofc)

Summary: a fun day at the compound leads to getting caught by your less than approving dad

warnings: smut with lots of plot have fun

Everyday felt like a never ending date. But in a good way.

You and peter have been together for a while, 10 months to be exact. And nobody knew, well nobody means the avengers your friends and... okay so everyone knows except your dad and happy but hey! Don’t judge the mans scary about his kid. Not that you were scared but more of Peters sake.

The affair started about a year ago, you hung out when he stayed at the compound. He was the only person there under the age of 30 and you two hit it off. Then days at the lab together and so on. You begged your dad to transfer you to midtown and after almost two months of begging and throwing tantrums he agreed, under the pretense you had all your classes with peter and we’ll that was just a bonus.

So then from there you kissed a kiss turned into kisses and dating and homecoming and now your here 10 months later cuddled up against him in the most not obvious way watching a movie with your dad and the rest of your family.

“Nat I swear to god your telling me you wouldn’t fuck him” Wanda whispers sneaking a peak at vision,making sure he hadn’t heard,before focusing back on the movie. You and peter hadn’t stopped your incessant tapping, yes you learned Morse code as an avenger study but you always put it to use in times like this.

He finished pressing out I love you to the skin on your back. A little smile played on your faces as you sat up more in your seat, “hey dad will you go get me more popcorn?” You looked down at him he was a row in front of you in the makeshift theater. And for a stark we all know what “makeshift” means he just nodded grabbing your bowl “Hey me too” Bucky laughed extending his arm to hand his bowl.

Hold up let me explain the seating.

In the front row was nat, Wanda, your dad, and Bruce all huddled together as the scary can and will kill you if they’re angry tier

Then middle row you on the end seat peter next to you and Bucky and Steve on his other side -the soft kid at heart tier

And the third row had vision, Sam and Thor the undecided, we got in to late to pick a good spot tier?

Tony enjoyed culturally enriching the group of misfits and had on a Risky business and sandlot marathon. Right now your halfway through sandlot and halfway through your pantience to go the fuck to bed.

Leaning over into Peters ear you whispered “can you sleep in my room tonight?” He nodded before turning to whisper back “how am I gonna do that, what if mr. stark comes in” you rolled your eyes and kissed him softly, you guys weren’t fans of pda but it was just a peck

“He won’t just come by after everyone’s sleep and I’ll lock the door” it was a good enough answer because he nodded before turning back to the movie just as tony came down the isle handing you both bowls of popcorn, hot buttery and fresh just how you liked it.

By the time the movie ended it was almost 12 and everyone was off to sleep, except tony, he headed down to the lab to work on something and you headed off to take a shower.

Post shower and ready to drag yourself into bed you looked up at the ceiling fighting sleep when you heard your door creak, Peters eyes darting around the dark room till they landed on your stiff body “hey are you awake” you nodded stupidly “yeah I’m up” you twisted around in the sheets, scooting over so he could have get half the bed, “is my dad asleep?”

He just shrugged as he climbed into the bed “Friday where’s tony” you asked aloud, one of your favorite parts of the new update was tracking where you all were in the compound. “Mr.stark is in suite” you just shook your head a little “safe and clear” peter sighed resting into the bed comfortablely, “I can’t believe you own Spider-Man pants” you giggle looking at him Choice of pajamas

You two talked for a while about nothing and everything as you usually did, you fell asleep and peter just watched for a while, you’re tense expression dwindle away drooling on his chest as you curled up tighter against him. It wasn’t long until sleep over came him and he too slept long and hard.

When you woke up, you rushed peter out and back to his room stealing kisses and feeling the adrenaline of doing what you’re not supposed to.

And this continued for a week, a full week of blissful domestic sleeping, the best sleep of your life. Cuddled into your boyfriends body and completely aware of your maybe consequences.

Friday night you sat around the dinner table. “Not for you to take this the wrong way but when is May getting back peter?” Sams question has everyone’s eyes on the two of you, trying to his the fact your holding hands under the table “she’s supposed to get back Monday-I’m excited I haven’t seen her in forever” Sam just nodded to the answer going back to his mash potatoes.

After dinner you all gathered in the living room to play some games laughing and fights and boards flipping halfway through a game of life. “Yknow Thor maybe you should have six sets of twins” everyone laughed at the joke seeing his two cars trailing behind another. “Haha, you and peter are probably the only ones here who will have kids” Wanda blurted and you wanted to dissolve. Of course tony hadn’t taken that the wrong way but everyone kinda shut up. The game ended with vision being victorious and everyone went their separate ways.

Peter was the next to slip up, on Saturday night you were doing what you usually did, watching a horrible reality show on Netflix about nothing but sex and bikinis and girls with awful fake tans. Bucky, who luckily always found a way to spend time with you on saturdays, was really invested though he’d never admit. “I really really thought brad and Angela were gonna get together by the end of that episode” you laughed at his commentary.

Bucky was sitting criss cross on the floor between your legs as you sat on the couch “Bucky I swear your hairs gonna look.. fantastic” you chuckled as you braided another section “are you sure you don’t want Rasta beads on the front” he scoffed eyes still trained on the tv in front of him “no sam would laugh at me and Steve would probably make me take them out” you leaned to the side and forward to look at him smirking and continuing with trained hands at the clusterfuck of braids in his hair

“I think when you take these out your hairs gonna be like beach wavy” taking a comb and brushing out another section “like micheals hair?” You sometimes forget he’s not up to date on all the technical girl stuff “yeah micheals hair makes him like 10 times hotter”

“Who’s hot?” You practically jumped out your skin, Bucky got startled and went into defense “Peter what the fuck, you don’t sneak up on people like that!” You slung an arm over the back of the couch to hit him but he just laughed and swung over to sit next to you. “Another trash reality show marathon” he laughed as he watched the show along with you.

As more time passed you stopped paying attention to peter, when you finished buckys hair you leaned back and curled into the blanket. Watching peter now, he never really got into these show like you and Bucky, you didn’t even get into these shows like Bucky.

And then you felt the little pang of jealousy you got when a girl tried something with peter, he was obviously always uninterested in anyone but you. “Did you just look at her ass?” Peter broke his gaze from the tv and fixated on you “what?” Buckys eyes left the tv too looking between the two of you on the couch opposite to him, mouth full of frosted mini wheats straight from the box.

“You totally just checked that new contestant out, stared at her ass!” He laughed and the got serious once he realized you werent joking. “Babe.. you’re kidding right?.. I really didn’t even look and–“

“What’s all this babe stuff peter” both of you stopped shellshock and turning your heads to look at your dad fridge open as he rooted through it “it’s- uh.. yeah- hey mr. stark” you wanted to laugh and piss yourself at the same time.

“It’s some new slang stuff tony, Yknow how the kids are today” Bucky covered for you as he got up to put his Wheaties away “I’m gonna head to bed kid don’t watch it without me” he winked as he turned around shooting finger guns at tony- “goodnight buck” you all chimed at the same time

“Jinx”

“Double jinx”

“Triple jinx” you all harmonized like a well oiled machine, your dad let out a deep chuckle as he stirred his fresh coffee

“Okay cut it out, since you don’t look busy why not come help me in the lab kid” you both looked up excited and tony looked at you a little sad, “we can work on your new suit” you just let your smile fade and nodded

You three walked down the hall together in complete silence “so dad, this is like the seventh?- seventh right peter?- super spidey suit and I’ve yet to see mark one of iron girl” peter nodded to your predictions statement and tony just rubbed his temple as he picked up the speed and hurried to the lab peter going too. You stopped at your bedroom door “I’m still gonna be asking for it in the morning” you shouted at them and tony just looked at you down the hall smiling at his little girl.

You stopped at struck a quick pose “I am iron man” you mocked his voice, you could see the skin around his eyes crinkle when he laughed just as the elevator door shut them from view. And you headed into your room.

Not a few hours later peter snuck into your room, you paused the movie you were watching and looked at him as he slumped into your bed half sleep already “Yknow I had to call your dad babe for the past 3 hours because he didn’t believe it was slang”

“Hey you’re the one slipping up not me- and god please never call me babe again I already am my father” he chuckled against the pillow his face was smushed in “cmere baby I wanna cuddle” you rolled your eyes and clicked off your tv “Peter any form of babe- not even bae- is acceptable anymore, get creative”

Then came Sunday- the day known to be wasted away worrying about everything you have to do and getting none of it done.

Soon after checking if tony was in his suite you texted peter

You:Come over peter

Peter parker:The last time you texted me that... 😏

you:Just get your ass over here I want to cuddle

You didn’t hear him till your door pushed open and he came into the room. He sauntered over and kissed you. “Hey” he smiled pulling away “hi” , “so what do you wanna do tonight” he asked sitting on the edge of your bed.

You pulled your legs into a cross cross position sitting up against the headboard, “I don’t know, wanna make out?” He just smiled at the brashness murmuring a soft ‘yeah’ as he climbed foreword kissing you. Soft kisses turning into strong ones and you were laid down peter over top of you savoring every second.

“Y/n..” before the words left his lips you’d already felt his hard on press on your thigh for a second. “Are you okay if we..” you asked, usually when you guys did it it was at Peters house and this was new territory.

Peters eyes locked with yours, your peaceful demeanor soothed his anxietied state. He started kissing you again grinding against you this time. Your hands that were draped around his neck ran through his hair finding purchase on the back of his head. You loved being close to him just as much as he did you. The heavy weight of his body against yours made you relax, you felt safe.

Your kiss moved to his neck sucking a small bright red spot that’d be gone by morning you tapped at his side to turn over and you two did just that, resting on his abdomen before scooting down, kissing at his collar bones that peaked beneath the shirt.

You tugged at the top, pulling it up and over his head before just scooting it off the bed. “As much as I’ve seen you peter, I miss you so much” he had the most blissful look in his face. Completely content. Lips a bright shade of pink tucked into a smile. You went back to kissing all down his chest admiring every part of your boyfriend.

“I love you” you smiled and pick your head up to look at him “you what?” He never wanted to pull you down on top of him more “you heard me”

“I love you more peter” you punctuated the statement pulling your sleep shirt over your head. “Can I-“ you gestured to his shorts tucking your index fingers into the waistband of his boxers “yeah” his throaty response stung at your ears.

You pulled both the offending items of clothing off his hard cock sprang up and rested back against his abdomen while you dropped the clothes off the bed. Hands landing on his thighs, gently patting and rubbing the muscular legs you adored.

You pressed down on him leaning forward to kiss him before going back down hand wrapping around him, his head fell back on the pillow already. You pumped him slowly kissing at his v line admiring your work as Peters breath shortened.

You licked your lips before wrapping them around the tip, sucking slowly, tongue twirling over his slit tasting his oozing Precum leisurely taking more of him into your mouth. “Fuck, y/n” Peters hand slipped into your hair. He wasn’t a head pusher but he liked to rest his hand and feel your movements, something to ground him and not get lost in his senses.

You kept bobbing he let out faint noises of moans. “Y/n I can’t be quiet you know that” voice strained and quiet

You lifted off him, a bit of spit had dribbled out your mouth, a slick string of mixed bodily fluids attached you to him. “Hey, FRIDAY put on sound control. Block the whole room out” you spoke fast. “Yes miss stark” the response made you happy.

“What the frick is that” you looked at him massaging his thighs again before stroking his cock. “We had to add an update because I play music too loud for people to sleep. It’s just in my room” you smiled at him and he gracefully laid back to his resting position

You returned to your previous activity’s sucking harder. He didn’t hold back letting out all the beautiful sounds he knew you loved to hear. “That’s it baby” hands returning to your hair as his hips threatened To jut out. You took a hand down petting and rubbing his balls coaxing his first orgasm out.

Peter groaned hard, not expecting to cum so quickly his hot load shooting in your mouth, swallowing quickly and pumping him through his high. Scooching up to rest above him he pulled you into a heated kiss, stomach hot and body aching, wishing to be touched. He pushed at your shorts sliding them down your thighs as much a he could. You lifted one knee at a time trying to get the clothing off. Somewhere in that your tits ended up in his face as he watched you struggle “babe” he chuckled watching you wiggle around in attempt to remove your clothes.

You looked up at his face, he was smiling tenderly post laugh and you just gave up sitting down on your bottom to pull them off your ankles, taking the time to take off your underwear. “I could’ve helped” he fake pouted running a hand from your calf to your knee then up to your thigh as he moved over top of you.

Peter kissed your neck giving warm wet kisses down your chest. He flicked at your nipples before wrapping his lips around one sucking generously eliciting vague sounds of pleasure from your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his mid section, Peters body slotted perfect in the space between your legs. You leaned your head back bumping into the headboard as his tongue swirled and lapped at the bud “ow” hands slipping to hold the spot.

He pulled away fast “are you okay?” Full of concern “yea yea just keep going” you burned in embarrassment as he smiled back, nothing ever seemed to go as smoothly and as sexily as you imagined. Peter leaned back down sucking the other abandoned peak into his mouth, he picked up on the tongue swirl you’d done to him earlier. Caressing at your hip, you looked down seeing his back muscles flex in the dim light coming through your window. “God you’re so sexy” words slipping past your lips in pleasure.

You could feel the smile against your chest as he continued hand sliding between your body’s to your aching core, nimble fingers dancing in all the right places to make you sweat. “Peter” the soft moan of his name had him jumping. Finally letting his fingers glide though your folds, wet and eager.

His head descended kissing down your stomach before placing soft kisses across your hips, legs parting when his three middle fingers rubbed at your clit, fluid and steady movement supplying just the right amount of gratification to leave you dizzy.

Your hips raised involuntary, one of his hands come up to push you back down.

He pulled his fingers away from you, a soft whimper at the loss of the stimulation he provided. “Peter-“ you’re voice was hoarse and whiny as you looked at him so badly wanting him to do something,anything.

“Peter please just fuck me” you could feel the air that left his mouth hit your thigh when he let out a chuckle, your body was hot all over and all you wanted was him. Peter craned over you kissing you more his knee coming between your thighs as you went to shut them.

When you two parted you leaned over to get a condom turning back to peter, sitting on his haunches between your parted legs, his hand wrapped around his cock as you opened the foil packet.

Almost as soon as you’d discarded the packet peter had the condom on and pulled you back to the bed kissing down your neck and shoulder “I love you y/n” hot messy words as he kissed your knuckles fingers interlocking as he held your hand.

You looked down between you two taking the one free hand you had to guide him in, sighs of practical relief left both of you as he slowly sunk in. Your free hand is just now as interlocked as the other, the back of your hands pressed into the sheets Peters nails digging into the fabric below as he started to move his hips.

He groaned so softly “fuck” he kept the slow pace he’d started, wanting you to fully adjust. “Please go faster” your breathy voice that theatened to moan was enough for him to increase his pace. Both your breathing and the sound of you bed creaking filled your ears.

Your legs wrapped around his hips, a loud moan left your lips as he hit the spot he’d been looking for adjusting to hit it with every thrust. Peters lips felt warm and wet when he bit on your shoulder removing a hand from your grasp to hike your leg up. “Fuck you’re so tight” he sounded breathless.

You bit your lip “let me ride you” he continued thrusting and then stopped abruptly “and it’s not even my birthday?” He smiled coyly pulling out as you two switched positions, Peters hands reaching out and greedily grabbing your thighs. You flipped your hair around getting it out your face grabbing onto his shoulders and raising your hips off his lap as he helped himself running his tip along your slit the rubber glistened even more “go ahead sit on it like a good girl” if you weren’t so ready to cum you’d have blushed but he knew just how to egg you on.

Lowering down onto him felt like being impaled in the best way possible “fuck” starting with a grinding motion and starting to rock up and down, the bed squeaking even louder. Peter brought his hand down to rub your clit, going over in a back and forth motion, your hips bucked up to him and a loud moan ripped through you “fuck peter don’t stop” he knew just how to bring you to the edge.

You bounced faster on him his fingers working magic “peter- fuck I’m so close- can I please cum?” He nodded one hand on your waist to help guide you “cum on my cock baby” you whimpered at his words before cumming hard around him clenching down and eyes rolling back “holy shit” you breathed out against the skin of his neck as you his in the crook, body slumped and leaned forward. He was still hard and ready inside you “use me Pete” you whispered in his ear kissing his sweet spot.

Peters hands ventured at your waist rubbing the skin before he grabbed handfuls if you hips his fingers dug into the skin of your ass as he gripped hard, picking your body up and moving you up and down him- god what his super strength could do “who’s is this huh?” He asked as you pulled your head out of hiding moaning a ‘yours’ as he moved your body all on his own. power and Dominance in every movement

You were a mess- your cum coated his cock as it pulled against your sensitive walls “pete- I cant just-“ you whimpered out as he just dropped you down on himself over and over. the sound of you body colliding back with his rang in your ears and you bit your lip to hold back a moan “cmere baby” Peter thumb cradled your chin as he pulled you in for a wet hot kiss, you’re eyes felt sewn shut you were breathing heavily through your nose as you let him in swallowing his groan as he thrusted up slowly the short quick movements seem to hit ever spot you could imagine in such little time “peter let’s- holy fuck- let’s switch” you pulled off his face and he nodded, hand firm gripping himself to pull out and flip you two over.

His warm hands held on to the expanse of your back before just tipping you straight off his lap onto your back, instead of into your pillows you now looked up and seen your footboard as peter smiled down at you before kissing your neck, soft wet open mouth kisses full of every tender moment his actions might have lacked.

Your hands came down around his neck one dancing across the tender skin from your previous attacks, the other gliding through his hair and grabbing at the bit on the nape of his neck- “Peter” you moaned breathlessly

Peters hands had found its ways to your thighs as he kneeled over your body. Fingers leaving impressions from grabbing at you. He sounded just as breathless as he pulled off you admiring the mark he left- soft red and swollen soon to be dark and purple. He lifted your legs and moved you around, adjusting to an easier position.

“Tell me you want it- tell me you want me as much as I want you” his face was red and hot, he still looked so soft and nice sittting above you “fuck- peter I want you” you grabbed his hand lacing your fingers just as he did before. He moved his hips easily finding his place sliding in so perfectly “it’s like you were made for me”groaning he commented. the silence that surrounded you both felt so comforting and empty- filled by every noise made in the room. The light bed rocking, gasps and groans as he quickened- the skin on skin contact decimating into a tune you’d hum the next day.

As he moved longer and stronger he let go of your hand pushing his into the bed propping himself up as he rocked into you. Your legs wrapped around his pert ass, his toes digging deep to keep traction on the soft sheet. “Fuck y/n” he breathed through gritted teeth

“Peter I’m so close- are you with me”

He nodded biting his lip, looking down to where you wrapped around him so perfectly “I’m right behind you”

He let the consistency of his movement out the window, he was hitting deep and hard and fast. “Peter-“ you grabbed his bicep “cum in me” he locked eyes with you if he wasn’t so caught up in making the two of you finish he would have had a kid in a candy store expression. Instead he quickly pulled out taking the condom off and sinking back in, soaking in the feeling of his bare cock in you, everything he’d imagined and more. But he could barely ground himself at the moment he had to focus on the rough feeling of raw knees pressing into mattress.

Everywhere you touched left fire, every noise you made sounded like birds chirping on a Sunday morning, everytime he looking at your face eyes shut in pleasure holding your self back, waiting for him.

It was all too much “y/n— holy shit— I’m gonna cum” he moaned hips twitching and eyes rolling as he came feeling the relief of the tension in his stomach as his coil snapped. Jutting in and out a few times relishing in the feeling of you, hot, wet, messy and tight. Feeling you pulsate after you came.

He collapsed on top of you, dick buried deep, chests heaving against one another, your legs wrapped right around him. You could hear him swallow deep in his throat as he let out another deep breath. “Holy shit best one yet” he groaned feeling your chuckle vibrate against his ribs. You ran idle hands through his hair, regaining from your own orgasm.

You two sat like this for a minute until he got enough and pulled away “god damn” he muttered just enough under his breath to not be heard. Pulling out slowly not wanting to go, admiring everything he’d been able to do. “I feel sticky” you locked eyes as you both looked down

“I can’t believe you let me do that” he fell over next to you on the bed, you scooted over to give him more room. “You deserve it, plus I’m on birth control now”

“Your what!?” He smiled and practically giggled picking his head up to look at you.

You just nodded “I said I had cramps” you elaborated. He just kept breathing an arm sneaking down to play with your hand “we should tell them”

You sat up looking down at him “if we tell we can’t do things like this” you frowned

“Am I just a secret to you?” He didn’t sound accusing, he sounded sad.

Pity and guilt filled your chest. “It’s not like that and you know it- I just wanna-“ you readjusted your searing and looked him in the eyes

“Stealing moments like these make it worth it for me, but tommorow I’ll shout from the rooftops I’m in love with peter Benjamin parker, dad be damned”

“Dad be damned” he chanted, bright toothy smile in place

“Scream it now, sound proof and all” he gestured around the room

You shut your eyes and shook your head,

“IM IN LOVE WITH PETER PARKER” you shouted

“Cmere let’s get you cleaned up” peter groaned, sitting up and taking you with him on his way off the bed

Afterwords you two laid in bed “do you know what time it is” you mumbled against his side as you curled up against him

“Snack time?, please I want grapes” Peter brushed some hair out of your face as you groaned

“I don’t think I can get up I’m so tired” you looked up with a pout sitting up onto your forearms, cradling your head. “... but if you give me a piggy back ride” you smiled and he leaned in kissing your forehead, soft lips pressed against the sweat soaked skin.

“Deal.. but I want one on the way back”

You immediately furrowed your brows and he chuckled “I’m kidding, I’m kidding... unless”

“Shut up” you laughed at him leaning off the bed to pick up the discarded clothes from earlier. Tossing his shirt and shorts over and sitting up to put on your shirt the two of you got up

You piggy backed all the way to the kitchen, being as quiet as you could.

It was complete silence, you could hear the flick of the light switch, overhead lights shutting on and illuminating the common area.

“Do you think Sam ate all my grapes?, I swear to god I’m this close to making tony call a meeting” he turned to like at you as you jumped onto the counter just shrugging.

When the fridge door opened it lit up his face, the led glow compared to the light created by Tony’s green initiative was nothing.

“And what would the queen of stark industry, miss y/n stark like to snack?” He joked with you turning and flashing an award winning smile

You shrugged hopping up to open a cabinet. You found the worst best snack In the world. The peanut butter and jelly two in one and a spoon. Breakfast of champions.

Peter watched you crack the jar open leaning against the island and popping a grape in his mouth. “I don’t know how you eat that” he laughed “I mean how psycho do you have to be to eat a pb&j minus the bread” you rolled your eyes “for one- it is good- your just a baby about trying new things and two— did you just call me psycho?” You hopped back into your place on the counter watching him with murder eyes as he flushed with color. “I kid” he shrugged.

You two giggled and talked. eventually you closed the lid on your jar and he zipped the packaging of him grapes and you were on his back once more.

You immediately fell into bed shrugging off your shirt “were still cuddling I hope you know” you looked at peter as he took of his shirt and shorts. He met your eyeline a little smile on his face “and who am I to deny you cuddles?” He joked around before falling immediately silent. You had lifted your hips and slid your underwear off under the covers, thinking nothing too much of it before just throwing them on the ground.

But peter couldn’t help but feel a slight excitement. He never really said anything but he like the idea of the two of you sleeping naked. He doesn’t really know why. So he just went over the foot of your bed, adjusting into his spot on your bed. you flipped to be facing him just as he threw his boxers across the room. “You’re a mess peter” you mumbled scooching in closer to him, holding him across the abdomen and laying your head flat on his chest.

Peter liked the feeling of your skin against his, it was soothing almost therapeutic. You were quick to sleep so he just laid there in the dark playing with your hair and listing to your breathing. It wasn’t much longer till he too fell asleep.

—

Early bird gets the worm was Steve’s thing. And apparently he thought the best course of action was shock. So he started with tony.

It took him a while but he eventually got tony to wake from his sleep. “What the hell are you doing Rogers”

Steven would just plaster on a bright smile “up and at em tony we’ve got big plans today” of course your father just grumbled and tried to turn back over. After a few minutes of Steve poking him he huffed and got out of bed.

Then they even to Bucky. Steve has this one down pack. Growing up the only way nicks mom could get him up on time was.... a wet willie. As much as Steve hated to pull this card he was more excited to have a productive day with the team. Something they haven’t had in a while

With Bucky awake they divided and conquered. Wanda, vision, Sam, Clint, thor, and Bruce were all quick wakes.

Now all nine of them stood outside of Natasha’s door. “I’m not doing it” Sam spoke up. An immediate uproar of ‘not it’ fell from the group. Steve eventually sighed and took the job of waking her up. Much to his surprise she was already up and in workout clothes. “Morning” she addressed Steve as he entered her room seeing the small flock of avengers .who were watching like this was the next best thing, scatter in the hallway.

Then that left you and peter.

It was bright early and seven am when you woke up with peter laying almost across your body. You had to push with a bit too much strength to get up, head groggy and eyes fuzzy.

upon standing You immediately felt the tingle between your legs that , from last experience, would go away to a dull ache in a hour or so. Hobbling into the bathroom you peed, washing your hands and splashing cold water against your warm skin. You had picked up your toothbrush when you heard footsteps of impending doom coming down the hall. “Oh no- oh shit” you mumbled dropping your toothbrush on the counter. Just as you got out the bathroom taking a side glance to peter who was passed out with the sheets and blankets pushed down his naked body past his thighs, only the knee down covered. “Peter” you whisper screamed. He stayed plum asleep no wiser to the world around him as you scrambled to find a shirt- any shirt- which happened to be Peters.

The soft knock on your door made you heart rate pick up. Peter twisted his head to the side but didn’t even wake up a little. “Y/n” you heard your dads voice. You almost shit yourself when the door handle moved. You looked at the lock in pure horror in the split second between the handle twisting and the door opening.

Peter forgot to lock the door after getting a snack. Peter forgot to lock the door. Your dad is coming through that door. Peter is completely asleep. Peter is completely asleep completely naked and completely exposed.

Fuck

You could hear tony shush all the avengers just as the door cracked open. He assumed you were asleep it being so early and all. When he opened the door and saw you, you froze in place. “Good you’re already up” Steve spoke up behind him.

At the same time Bucky Sam and nat rushed down the hall “peter isn’t in his room. Where could he be?”

Your eyes flashed quickly between your entire family standing in your doorway. Down to your fathers koala slippers and then up to his eyes, bright and cheery despite the obvious exhaustion he hid so well. By now his eyes had a chance to give you a one over. You were flushed and looked jittery and nervous. Then his eyes hit your bed.

And all hell broke loose.

“WHAT THE FUCK”

That one woke peter up.

“Dad” you tried to keep your voice calm

Peter frantically pulled the sheet up then the blanket all the way to his neck.

“UH— Mr.Stark I-Um fuck” he swallowed hard. His stomach was in his throat and he felt increasingly more uncomfy as the other avengers watched from the door.

Tony clasped his hands together and took a deep breath “peter I’m gonna ask this one time- and I don’t want you to lie” he spoke pointing his finger at him barely wanting to open his eyes after the sight he just had to absorb.

“Yes sir- mr. stark- sir” you had to close you eyes and shake your head. Peter was his mentee and, hell if you didn’t know any better you’d think your dad liked peter more, the most peter would get is a slap on the wrist and be on with it.

But here was peter parker acting like your dad would blast him down in the next ten seconds if he misspoke. “Okay-okay- why IN THE HELL are you NAKED in MY daughters bed?” Tony finally looked at the boys face. He was covered in a shade of red he’d never seen.

“Dad” tony whipped his head to you almost having forgotten you were right there. “You’re not speaking for him” he turned attention back to flustered, scared shitless, bare naked peter. “If I have to ask again, what the fuck is going on peter- for the love of god just say it”

“I’m in love with your daughter” peter whispered. You smiled and I love you too wasn’t practical in this situation but you mouthed it to him anyway.

Tony let out the deepest most exhausted sigh you’ve heard leave him in years and just shook his head “I can’t deal nor process this right now. So I’m going to go to my room and take a nap and I want to see you both as soon as I’m up” he turned and pushed past the rest of the power rangers to get out mumbling things under his breath your glad you couldn’t understand.

You turned and looked at nat who was hitting Sam who was trying not to laugh. “But mr.stark I’m in love with her” he mocked Peters voice. And you rolled your eyes. “I have no words” you looked him dead in the eyes. “And if you pick on peter about this again I’ll tell my dad you knew the whole time” Sam shut up quick and you slammed your door shut.

Peter let out a sight of relief sitting up in your bed. “Holy shit y/n tony knows”

You got into the bed handing him his boxers. “I couldn’t even care less right now I need another four hours sleep”

Peter laughed and curled up into a cuddle with you. “You’re just like your fucking dad”

#Tom Holland #Peter Parker #Peter Parker smut #Tom Holland smut #avengers #stark!reader

175 notes · View notes

imaginesupply · 4 years

Text

Homecoming - Chapter Seven

(Gif's not mine.)

I am so sorry for only posting this chapter when Christmas is already over. I lost my initial draft and it was difficult to find time for writing since this season means lots of family time for me.

Anyway, I hope you'll still enjoy this last chapter. Previous chapters can be found on my Masterlist, just follow the link.

Chapter Seven

Chapter warnings: Smut (mild), alcohol consumption (very mild). I think that’s it.

Ada grinned to herself as she slid under the white cotton bedcovers. It wasn't every day that she woke up before the Captain and she intended to make the most of it.

Kneeling on the mattress between his outstretched legs, she bent forward and licked the underside of his proud morning erection, from the base to the soft, pink glans where she made sure to trace the small slit. Sy's hips bucked up and his cock twitched in response, a soft moan escaping his parted lips, but he didn’t wake up just yet. Ada pouted for a moment - she wasn't feeling too patient this morning, not after the dream she had had.

This time, she grabbed his erection firmly at its base and proceeded to take him as deeply in her mouth and throat as her gag reflex would allow, hollowing her cheeks and humming softly.

His reaction was instant. His body went rigid and Sy sat up at once, a glazed look on his soft blue eyes. "Fuck, Ada!" He cursed loudly, carding a hand through his hair as he lifted the covers to look underneath.

His wife merely hummed around his cock, looking up at him with innocent eyes. Sy moved a hand to her cheek, caressing her skin with his thumb and feeling the outline of his cock inside her mouth. He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. "Come up here, I want to kiss you," he rasped, surprising himself with his own words when her mouth felt so heavenly around him.

Ada pulled her head back with a slight pop and scooted forward, straddling his strong thighs. They shared a kiss before her lips moved to hover by the shell of his ear. "Happy three-year anniversary of our first meeting," she whispered smugly. No, she had not forgotten.

Sy laughed, draping one large hand over the back of her neck and pulling her closer to him, her wet folds sliding over his cock in the process and making them both freeze for a second, caught up in the sensation. "Guess I hit the Jackpot three years ago."

Ada chuckled and began to roll her hips against his. The friction felt too good on her clit to stop. "Pity you didn't hit the Jackpot in Vegas," she teased lightly, her hand moving to his shoulder for balance as she raised herself on her knees before slowly impaling herself on his cock. Ada gasped quietly as Sy buried a moan against her neck, his beard grazing her skin.

"If memory serves, I did hit the Jackpot in Vegas when I married you," he murmured.

Ada laughed lightly, her walls rhythmically clenching around his cock. "Stop being so sweet and fuck me already."

For all his natural authority, the Captain did know how to follow an order, especially when it came from his wife. With her holding on to his shoulders for leverage as she rode him, Sy found his head nuzzling her cleavage, his beard leaving the skin of her breasts raw and sensitive. Neither seemed to mind.

All too soon, Sy lost his patience and wrapped an arm around his wife's middle. He began a punishing pace, making her cry out in the mixture of pain and sweet rapture.

The doorbell rang just as they were catching their breaths, still dizzy with bliss. Sy groaned loudly, rolling his eyes. "Is this becoming a trend now?!"

Ada laughed at his reaction, disentangling herself from him. "So, it seems," she chuckled. "Go see who it is."

Sy huffed next to her. "Why should I be the one going?" After all, he had been the one who had let Tom in when he had come over for dinner.

Cocking a brow at him, Ada's voice turned mischievous. "I don't mind getting the door. But I'll go naked with your cum running down my inner thighs."

He glared at her dumbfounded, but nothing indicated that she was joking. With a sigh, Sy got off the bed and put on a pair boxer briefs, pointing an accusatory finger at her as he walked out of their bedroom. "That shit's not funny."

°°°

Ada picked up the small envelope that came attached to the wicket basket that had been delivered by a deli, a smile spreading on her face as she read the message.

"It's from Tom," she announced. "He wishes us a merry and delicious Christmas."

“Why is it that anytime the bell rings at the worst moment, Tom’s always implicated.” Still, Sy looked impressed as he started taking out the various foods from the basket. There was all you needed for a copious brunch and even a cold bottle of champagne and orange juice to make mimosas.

Ada got up from bed to grab the plastic goblets where they kept their toothbrushes in from the bathroom. Drinking mimosas in those would be a first but she really didn't want to walk downstairs. When she got back in the bedroom, Sy was already munching on a warm cinnamon roll. "What did we get Tom for Christmas?" He asked with his mouth full.

Ada rolled her eyes, climbing back on the bed. "We," she said, stressing out the word as she looked pointedly at her husband, "gave him a perfectly preserved 1925 Underwood typewriter and had it delivered to his parents' house in Wiltshire two weeks ago already."

Sy swallowed the rest of the pastry. "We are very good and generous friends, indeed," he jested, trying to imitate Tom's British accent.

They ate and drank lazily in bed. With a full belly, Ada had half a thought to take a nap – she had exerted herself this morning after all - but it was noon already and she still had lots to do.

"What time does your mom want us over?"

"Seven o'clock is the official time but she's probably expecting us much earlier to help with the cooking and the baking."

Ada bit her lip. Sy wasn't going to like this. "I won't be able to make it before seven. I've got errands to run."

Sy sighed in response. "If you want to avoid them because of the sex tape thing-" He was interrupted when she hit him with the pillow.

"It's not about that but thank you very much for reminding me of it right when I had finally managed to stop thinking about it." She laughed, gulping down the rest of her mimosa to help with the remaining mortification.

Leaning forward to kiss her, Sy stopped just before their lips could touch. "I expect you at seven o'clock at the latest, Mrs. Syverson." He warned before finally landing a peck on her lips. "And if that errand of yours is to find me a gift, I wouldn't mind a new desk chair to play the console."

Ada barked a laugh. "Did you really think I would leave it until Christmas Eve to get your gift? Let me tell you, Sy, I got you the ultimate present."

He cocked an eyebrow. Was that a challenge? After all, he had stayed up very late three nights in a row to organize her gift. After all the care packages she had put so much thought in while he was away, Sy really intended to surprise her. "Whatever it is, I'm sure yours won't beat mine, darlin'."

She looked pensive for a second and then stretched out her hand, smirking. "Wanna bet on it?"

Sy chuckled, throwing back his head against the pillow before finally nodding. "As you wish, darlin'. May the most thoughtful gift win."

°°°

The airport had always felt like a real maze to her and the unusual hordes of people really weren't helping. Apparently, a snowstorm had taken over the entire East coast and tons of flights had been either cancelled or delayed.

Ada groaned as she tried to find a path between the crowds. This would have been so much easier if Sy had been there with her - people had a tendency to naturally move out of his way. Eventually, Ada gave up and took off her high heels, deciding to walk barefoot instead. She was already dressed for the Christmas Eve dinner since she knew she'd be cutting it short and it was unlikely she'd have time to get changed later.

When her phone rang, she fished it out of her pocket and took the call without looking at the screen, cursing under her breath. If she didn’t get to the counter in time before it closed, her gift would fall through. "Yes?"

There were some rushed whispers from the other end of the line, but she couldn't make out a single word with the loud ambient noise. "I can't hear you."

"Please tell me you're not leaving! On Christmas of all days!"

Ada stopped in her tracks, a frown taking over her face. What the fuck was going on? "Madie, calm down. I'm not going anywhere."

"Then why are you at the airport?!" Madie retorted, her voice a stressed whisper.

"How do you even know I'm -" Right. She had forgotten she'd given her sister-in-law the ability to track her phone a few years ago when she was still new to the city and afraid of getting lost somewhere. "Never mind." Ada interrupted, shaking her head. "Look, I will be there tonight. I am simply running a little late. Is Sy okay?"

"I - He - Urgh!" Madie groaned in frustration through the phone. "He's in the kitchen with mom, they're making cookies. Sy was worried about you because he thought you would have been here by now. Something about it not taking ages to buy a desk chair."

"Did you tell him where I was?" Ada asked, cutting off her sister-in-law. She had finally arrived at the right counter.

"No! God, no! I didn't want to worry him."

"Good. Don't tell him. I'll be there in two hours, give or take."

"Two hours?! Ada no-"

She had already hung up and slid her phone back in her pocket. Plastering the biggest smile on her face, Ada walked up to the lady at the counter. "Hello. I'm Ada Syverson. Please forgive me for being late."

°°°

The quick stop at the store had been hell. Why there were still so many doing their Christmas shopping on the 24th at six in the afternoon, was beyond her. Admittedly, she was there as well but it was simply because Sy would have found it if she had purchased it sooner. Frantically, Ada rubbed her hands over her dress and coat, trying to remove as she waited for someone to open the door.

Helen’s house appeared to have been fully decorated for the season. Luke and Elaine excitedly grabbed Ada hands and dragged her inside before she could even remove her thin coat, proud to show her the table they had helped decorate. It was a nice, festive table indeed, and Ada decided not to point out that cutlery was put in the wrong order. Apparently, her parents were the only ones absolutely pedantic about that.

Sy came running to her with a plate of cookies in his hand. "I made them!" He announced, showing off the Christmas treats as if they were precious jewels.

Before Ada could grab one, Madie appeared behind him, playfully slapping the back of his head. "He might have made the cookies, but I decorated them. I want credit for my work."

Ada rolled her eyes at their siblings’ antics and picked up a cookie, humming appreciatively just to elicit a proud grin from her husband. The fact that they tasted this good didn’t leave a doubt that Helen has kept a close eye on him.

"You made it on time after all, darlin'," Sy pointed out.

Ada ran her tongue over her lips, catching the crumbles. "There was not much traffic," she replied, electing not to mention her excessive speeding.

Dinner was a cheerful affair. Phil mostly kept them entertained with stories of dumb, sometimes rude, customers from the hardware store. When dessert eventually rolled around, Helen thanked everyone for being there, tearing up. It was the first time in years that the family was fully reunited for Christmas and she wished her late husband could have been there with them.

When it got to midnight, Ada learned that the Syversons had a special Santa Claus conception that they taught the kids: Santa did exist, but he only brought gifts to less fortunate children whose families were unable to provide presents for Christmas. If a child was lucky enough that their family could afford gifts, they each had to donate a present to a charity. Joshua had accompanied Elaine and Luke to do so this morning.

They had long finished exchanging gifts and the kids were already playing with their new toys, yet Ada was still going over the binder on her lap, tears in her eyes. Sy had planned this meticulously. He had even made sure she got two weeks off in February and that they would have the same car waiting for them in Vegas so they could do their West coast road trip in the Camaro they had driven to Vegas the first time. 1811km from Las Vegas to Seattle – she couldn’t wait!

She was so enthralled by her gift, she hardly even noticed Sy squeezing her shoulders or Josh calling her name. "I'm sorry, what?" Ada blurted out, jumping up when Sy decided to tickle her to finally get her attention.

"I was asking whether you'd forgotten to get Jack something?" Her brother-in-law teased gently, making her realize that everyone had already exchanged gifts and she hadn't even noticed.

Ada laughed. "I didn't forget. It... It's just not something I could give him here," she replied, attempting to stay vague but it sent the wrong message and she saw Madie chuckle, looking away with a knowing smirk.

"Oh, it's something naughty, then?" Josh asked playfully and Ada swore she could almost physically feel the daggers Helen was staring at her. First, the sex tape and now this, she was slowly getting afraid of what his family would think of her at this rate.

Sy cut off the teasing with a sharp and stern 'hey' in Josh's direction who immediately raised his hands in defeat, much to his Luke's amusement.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Sy leant down over Ada’s shoulders and whispered in her ear, smirking. "Is it? Something naughty, I mean."

Ada turned back at once, still sitting on the floor between his legs. Sy had the dumbest grin plastered on his face. "Not everything has to be naughty, you know," she chided light-heartedly, but Sy only laughed, until she pinched his thigh.

"Ada, will you come help me with the dishes?" Helen called from the other side of the room, startling her.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, Ada silently pleaded Sy for help. The kitchen wasn't a big enough room for both Helen and her to come out alive. Yet, instead of getting her out of this, like any good husband would – might she add – Sy merely gave her an equally encouraging and bemused look.

Sighing, Ada got up on her feet and followed her mother-in-law into the kitchen. She grabbed a rag and awkwardly stood by the sink, waiting for Helen to hand her the clean dishes. They worked in silence, Ada carefully drying off the glasses, lest she have the bad luck of breaking something.

"I wanted to apologize," Helen said out of the blue.

Ada was caught by surprise. "What?" She blurted out before composing herself and shaking her head. "Excuse me, what?"

Helen sighed, drying her hands before turning to her. "I am sorry, Ada. For the way I've treated you."

"Oh." She gasped. Miracles did happen on Christmas then. Ada wasn't sure what to say. "It's okay."

The older woman frowned at her reaction. "Don't you want to know the reason?" Ada shrugged slightly. She was happy enough with the apology as it was. "I disliked you from the first moment because you were the reason my Jack missed Christmas with the family three years ago. It was the first time he was home for the holidays since he had been deployed."

Ada nodded slowly. Well, she could understand that. "Then my late husband slowly managed to convince me to give you a chance. He said that Jack wouldn't just marry any random girl," Helen paused, smiling briefly. "Well, on your first birthday here in Austin, I came by your house to drop off a gift and ask if maybe you wanted to go out for dinner. Once I got there, I saw you were already having dinner with someone else. A man. It looked like you were fun, and I naturally, perhaps foolishly, assumed the worst."

Ada opened her mouth, wanting to say that it was just Tom, but Helen silenced her with a wave of her hand. The woman had authority, it ran in the family apparently "A few weeks later, I saw you at the movies with the same man. That only confirmed my suspicions. I never told anyone, least of all Jack, because I didn't want to see him hurt, especially while he was still in Iraq but I was never able to move away from that."

"The man you saw me with is Tom. He's a good friend-,” Ada quickly explained as soon as her mother-in-law had finished talking.

Helen smiled, nodding softly. "Jack told me about Tom today. Said you three had dinner together, that Tom a kind man, and that the two of you were just friends."

"Well, it's true," she chipped in quickly.

"I believe you." Helen reassured Ada with a squeeze to her shoulder before heading back to the living room where the family was gathered.

Ada remained in the kitchen for a few seconds more, surprised by the turn of events but just as thankful.

°°°

"Nervous?" Sy inquired in the car, quickly glancing at her before moving his eyes back to the road.

Her brows furrowed. "What? Why would I be nervous?"

"You're biting your nails and checking your phone every few seconds." Sy told her, just as smug smile started taking over his face. "If it's about the gift, don't worry, darlin’. I know you couldn't possibly come up with a better gift than the one gave you."

Ada scoffed indignantly. "Let's see if your smugness remains once you see her."

"Her?" Sy asked just as she groaned at herself. Why had she let that slip? He laughed heartedly. "Darlin', Rihanna could be waiting for us at home for a private concert and it still wouldn't top my gift."

It was Ada's turn to laugh. "Perhaps not, but I'd definitely top her!"

°°°

“So, where is it?” Sy inquired as soon as they had made it through the threshold, looking around the ground floor to see if there was something new or unusual.

Even Ada was surprised nothing looked amiss. Her friend, Lily, also a volunteer from the animal shelter and who did not celebrate Christmas, had stayed over most of the evening and miraculously managed to keep the house intact. “Your present is in the study upstairs.” She told Sy, watching bemused as he quickly discarded his shoes to head upstairs.

“If you did get me a desk chair after all, I’ll kill you for all this suspense,” he threatened her playfully, landing a small kiss on her cheek before rushing up the stairs.

With a knowing smile, Ada leaned against the wall, waiting for Sy to open the door. Five seconds later, her husband’s excited voice reached her ears.

“Aika!”

The German Shepherd barked cheerfully in response. Despite the carpet flooring, she could hear the pitty-patter of the dog’s paws on the floor. Yes, they had both aced the challenge, Ada mused as she hung up her coat and took off her shoes. She grinned, shaking her head softly with amusement when she listened to Sy giving Aika the grand tour of the house upstairs.

"This is the bathroom. As you can smell, it ain't stinky like in Baqubah."

"Bedroom here. If you're real nice to mama, she might let you sleep here."

"The walk-in closet. Please don't come here a lot because you’ll get fur everywhere."

She looked up once she sensed them coming closer in the hallway upstairs. As soon as they appeared on the stairs, Ada started laughing at the sight. Sy was caring the German Shepherd in his arm like he would a toddler and Aika really seemed to be enjoying it.

"Be careful with the stairs, it's slippery 'cause of the varnish," Sy told the dog very seriously, sporting an authoritative frown before he caught sight of wife and smiled broadly, almost skipping over the last few steps.

"This is your mama," Sy introduced her, bringing the dog close enough to her face so that Aika could lick her cheek. Ada grimaced, making Sy scoff. "She's a bit uppity, but she's the best," he playfully whispered into the dog’s ear, as if sharing a great secret.

“Aika and I got acquainted in the car when I drove us home from the airport,” she told him, petting the dog’s snuff.

Sy finally set Aika down and she promptly ran off, exploring the ground floor and more specifically, the couch.

"I never thought you'd let me get a dog," Sy admitted, the grin still not leaving his face even as he leant down to kiss his wife. "Didn't even think you liked them."

Ada pulled back, looking offended. "I literally volunteer at the animal shelter weekly!"

"I know, darlin'. Just thought you would rather get a cat or a parrot, or something more Ada-ish."

She chuckled. Truth was she was still keen on getting a cat but now she'd have to find one that would get on with Aika.

Something weird in her peripheral vision caught her attention now that the lights were on, making her turn her head. "Is her fur... stained green?" It was the first time she’d had a good look at the dog under a bright light.

Sy laughed, clasping her shoulders. "Yes. Green dog means good dog. It’s a long story."

°°°

This is it. I hope you enjoyed the series. Thank you for reading!

I wish you a very happy New Year!

@colourmeinblue @hail-horror-queen @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @kmuir1 @madbaddic7ed @coffeebreathy @purplelove75 @summersong69 @helenaellie @rn7rocks

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader

112 notes · View notes

all1e23 · 5 years

Text

Chocolate Dipped

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Steve has finally had enough of these two idiots.

Warnings: Angsty stuff.

A/N:�� I am feeling better! Just in time to make you guys cry for Christmas. This is in Steve’s POV at the start. I think I grabbed everyon’s tags but I was pretty sick this week. If I forgot to add you please shoot me an ask and I’ll correct it today. Also, half edited. I got lazy. lol If you like it come sing me a song, write me a story or scream at me! This is the sixth part of my series Sugary Sweet. Make sure you catch up!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!***

“You goin’ home tonight, buck?”

Steve hung around the doorway to Bucky’s office, hovering like a worried parent. The small room was lived in. Two weeks have passed since they attended Stark’s gala, and Bucky made it a point to work himself to death every single day since. There were cartons upon cartons of takeout, guest pillows from his penthouse on the leather couch that sat under the large windows on the south wall, and Steve caught Bucky wearing the same white button-up three days in a row.

Bucky was avoiding something, and Steve had a decent idea of what that ‘something’ was.

“Hm?” Bucky mumbled, barely looking up from his computer as he did. “Uh, no. Not tonight. I want to get this done for the Danvers account.”

Steve sighed as he spun his keys around his fingers, debating how far he could push this before he drove Bucky away.

“We have people who do that now, Buck. Go home and get some sleep. Wash your hair.”

To Steve’s delight, Bucky looked up, humor lighting up his eyes and smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

“You sayin’ I look bad, Stevie?”

Steve forced through his concern long enough to grin.

“I’m saying you haven’t been home since you broke up with Y/n. Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”

Bucky’s smile fell the moment Steve said her name, and his eyes fell back on his computer. He wasn’t going to talk about Y/n or their arrangement. There was nothing to say. It was never a real relationship as much as Bucky wanted it to be, so there was no reason to treat it as such.

“I don’t have anything to say about it. There was no break-up. It was a temporary situation, and it’s passed. Let’s all move on with our lives.”

“Bullshit.”

“Goodnight, Steven.”

The quiet tug of the door and the hitch of the latch echoes in Bucky’s empty office, leaving him alone in the darkened building. He knew Steve was trying to help, but Steve wasn’t. Bucky didn’t need to be babysat. He needed to go back to that coffee shop, pay for your coffee, and walk away before he let his heart fall yours. Yeah, he knew sulking in his office wasn’t going to fix anything, but he couldn’t face going home. Your toothbrush was still hanging next to his, that drawer in his dresser was full of your clothes, and there was the picture of the two of you resting on the nightstand. Taking down the pictures in his office was bad enough; at least here, the sheets didn’t smell like you.

It has been weeks when the hell was he going to get over you?

Bucky really hoped it would be soon.

The bar was packed. No stool was empty, and the floor was full of kids half his age waiting for what was probably their first beer. Steve groaned. Dealing with grumpy Bucky and now this was completely unfair. The loud cheering made Steve wince as he pushed towards the middle of the crowd, it was hard to see through the crowd of twenty-year-olds, and he has never felt quite as old as he did at that moment.

When did he become this grumpy old man? He blamed Bucky.

Steve caught his wife’s whistle and grinned when he spotted her in one of those half booths that no one actually enjoys sitting at.

“How is he?”

Steve sighed and placed a kiss on her cheek as he squeezed into the seat next to her. That was a loaded question. He gripped his wife’s legs and pulled them over his lap, tucking her under his arm. Steve was going to make the most of the dollhouse-sized booth.

“He’s… a mess. I know he misses her, but he won’t talk about it. I’m not sure what happened, but I don’t think it was a clean break like he’s making it sound.”

“Do you think she left him?”

He shook his head.

No, Steve knew Bucky well enough to know guilt when he saw it.

“I think Bucky didn’t speak up when he should have is what I think, and maybe she got tired of waiting to be more than a game.”

Steve took a sip of Sharon’s red wine and made a face. She grinned and ran her fingers through his bread, scratching gently until he hummed softly and leaned into her touch.

“Well, I think,” Sharon whispered, watching the sleepy smile tug at Steve’s lips. “We are stuck sitting at the bar. The dining room is full of what appears to be teenagers. Somehow when we weren't looking, we became the oldest people in the room. It's a tiny booth or share a table with strangers.”

“That’s alright. We can stay right here.” Steve nudged her chin up with two fingers and smiled. “I like being stuck with you.”

“You think that sweet talk is going to get you somewhere?”

“Pretty confident. Bucky taught me all I know."

Steve grinned and pecked her lips.

A loud voice interrupted Steve’s train of thought and he couldn't help but listen in.

“Look, if fancy man bun can’t see how awesome you are, then you don’t need to waste your time on him.” Steve tried to fight his smile. Whoever that was, he wouldn’t mind sharing a table with them.

“But… I think I love him.”

Steve froze when he heard your voice, and he subtly peeked over his shoulder to find you sitting at a table nearby. You weren’t alone. There was a blond guy he didn’t know, his arm was around your redheaded friend that scared the life out of him sometimes, Nat he was pretty sure, and another red-haired woman he didn’t know. He turned back around before you caught him spying, and he tried to listen over the boisterous shouts and loud, obnoxious music.

This was getting ridiculous. He was getting too old to go to places like this.

“And that sucks,” The guy continued."He’s shit for dragging you along because he knew how you felt. Everyone knew. I’m not saying marry Johnny Lightning--”

You were talking about Bucky.

“Storm.”

“Storm. Whatever. I’m not saying marry him, but it will help take your mind off the asshole who broke your heart.”

“First of all, I only know his name. I don’t have his number because I don’t want to go out with him, Clint. I don’t want anyone else. Can we just stop talking about this, please? It’s bad enough you drug me out of my nice warm bed and made come here. Please stop talking about Bucky.”

“I wasn’t going to let you hide in bed for the rest of your life,” The woman -- Nat, said with a hint of venom in her voice. “I wish you would have talked to him like I told you to. Something is off about this whole thing.”

“I didn’t have time! Things were over before I realized they were.”

“You could go talk to him now?”

“What’s the point? He’s obviously done with whatever we were. I haven’t heard from him in days.”

Bucky was the one that broke up with you? Steve hadn’t expected that, but perhaps he should have.

Steve fidgeted enough to wiggle his phone out of his pocket, silently quieting Sharon before she could make a fuss and draw your attention. He snapped a picture over his shoulder, even though he shouldn’t. You were staring at rose necklace Bucky gave you in Boston while your friends chatted amongst themselves, your eyes were red and puffy like you had been crying non-stop for days. You looked incredibly lonely for someone sitting in the middle of a crowded bar and surrounded by friends.

He dropped the image into a message and sent it off to Bucky.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

Steve placed a kiss on Sharon’s head and slid out of the booth, smiling at her confusion. He walked straight to your table and stopped next to you, making a point to get his shoes and black dress pants in your line of vision. You looked up, and your fingers slipped off the necklace, your mouth fell open and stuttered incoherently.

“Y/n, I think we should talk.”

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

Across town, Bucky sat in his office, still sitting at his desk hours after Steve left him only now he was staring at his phone instead of his computer. Bucky hasn’t been able to look away from the damn thing since Steve’s text came in over twenty minutes ago. You looked good. Great. A little sad, maybe, but beautiful. He read Steve’s words one more time, and his heart clenched again.

She doesn’t look like someone who moved on. I think you left a few things out of the story.

So he did leave some things out. It was his right to leave out whatever he wanted to. Steve didn’t need to know why things didn’t work out. It wouldn’t change the outcome.

“Hi.”

Bucky’s fingers shook at the sound of your voice, so much so he dropped his phone back onto his desk. You stood in the doorway to his office, fidgeting and uncomfortable. You were still in that little black dress you were wearing in the photo, so you must have come straight from the bar. Bucky slowly leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to yours.

“Hi… what are you doing here? How did you get in?”

You looked guilty, and Bucky had to fight back a grin.

“Steve gave me his ID.”

You held up a little white card as an explanation and gave him that same shy, nervous smile you gave him when he offered to pay for your coffee all those months ago. Steve could never just mind his own damn business. Nosy little punk.

Bucky should probably thank him for meddling this one time -- depending on how the rest of this night goes.

“Of course, he did.”

You took a few steps in, just enough that you could place the card on Bucky’s desk a keep your distance. Bucky watched your eyes scan his desk for your missing pictures, and he wanted to jump in and tell you they were on the bookshelf behind him now. They were hard to look at it all the time now. He saw relief flood you as you spotted them.

He still didn’t understand why you were here.

“Is everything okay, sweet girl?”

The name just slipped out. Bucky hadn’t meant it to. You weren’t… well, you weren’t anything anymore, and he didn’t have a right to call you pet names, but he couldn’t help it. Bucky wanted to call his sweet girl forever. Would have, too, if only the stars had aligned the way Bucky had wanted.

Bucky watched you as hesitated. You took a step forward and then stopped as if you were trying to decide where to go, towards him or out the door. He saw the conflict in your eyes as you fought with yourself, and then you stood up taller with your shoulders squared, having made your choice. You strode towards Bucky with determination, walking around his desk, and Bucky pushed off from his feet, letting his chair roll back enough to give you the space you needed-- wanted.

He hoped it was what you wanted.

Bucky didn’t move or make a sound. Just held his breath and waited.

You sank down on his lap, straddling his waist as you’ve done during the hundreds of times you’ve visited him in his office. Bucky waited until you settled comfortably, and his hands came up to wrap around you and rest against your backside. Your own find their favorite spot tangled in his hair, and the tears catching in your lashes were caught right away.

It took every ounce of strength he had not to lean in and kiss those tears away.

“You left.” You whimpered. “Just disappeared and stopped talking to me like we were never… something.”

Bucky’s heart twisted into something dark and ugly. He hadn’t thought there was much to say. Things had been off since he came home from Boston, and then that boy, he didn’t think there was anything left after that.

“I thought--” Bucky’s arms tightened around you, fingers pressed into your skin as he forced himself to admit what he was scared of since he first met you -- you didn’t really want him.

“I thought maybe you liked that kid from the gala. He's closer to your age and… he could be someone who wants the same things you want. I didn’t want you to feel like you were stuck with me if you didn’t want-- if this was temporary. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“No, that’s not what I want.”

Bucky swiped his thumb under your right eye, wiping away the tears he could no longer stand to see. He didn’t know how to ask if you loved him or how to tell you that he wanted more, but this? He knew this. Bucky’s spent the last eight months asking you want you wanted and doing everything he could to give it to you.

He could do this.

“What do you want, babygirl? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

There was only one thing you wanted.

“I want you to love me,” you choked out in a desperate, hopeless plea. “I want you to love me like I love you. I want you to be in love with me.”

“Oh, baby.”

Bucky cupped the back of your neck and let the other rest on your back, firmly holding you in place on his lap. This was something he should have said months ago.

“I’ve been in love with you for months. Maybe since I bought you that first cup of coffee and you looked at me with those sweet lips and pouty eyes. You’ve had my love, sweet girl.”

You sniffed and took a breath, your bottom lip still trembling as you twisted over his words.

“But-- I, I heard you telling you Sharon you didn’t want a future with me.”

Bucky’s nose crinkled, and his brow furrowed. “What? What are you talkin’ about, baby?”

“In Boston. That night you were drinking at the bar. I came down to… to see you, and you said you didn’t want a family right now and not with me.”

Bucky was smiling, and he could tell by your pout you were about to jump off his lap because of it. He couldn’t help it. This was good. The best news he has heard in weeks. This was all because he was an idiot, and he could fix that. He could stop being an idiot. Bucky took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting the chair lean back all the way, so you fell against his chest, and your feet came off the floor just enough to make you unstable if you tried to get up on your own.

He needed you to stay put a little longer, and if you wanted to leave after he said his peace, he would let you go.

"Did you hear what I said after that?”

“No," you squeaked. “I ran back up to our-- your room.”

“Our room.” He corrected.

"Our room." You amended. "Then you came up and we-- Well, we made-- we..."

Bucky didn't need you to say anymore. He remembered. Bucky absolutely remembered making love to you. He held you against him and carefully explained what really happened that night.

“I did say that, but that wasn’t what I meant. It came out all wrong, and you'll be happy to know Steve and Sam would beat my ass to defend you without a second thought. What I meant and what I explained to them that night was I wanted to wait until you were ready for all that because if I’m going to do all that? Get married and have kids; I only want to do it with you.”

You groaned and thumped your head against his chest. “Why is Nat always right? She said you didn’t mean it. That it was a mistake.”

Bucky chuckled quietly. His fingers gently rubbed at your scalp, and his lips found your skin, pressing soft kisses to your temple. “Probably because she could see it written on my face. According to Sam, I look like a lovesick idiot every time you’re near me.”

Forcing yourself to lift your head, you met his eyes and whispered,” Bucky, I do love you, and I don’t want that dumb bellhop from Boston or any other guy. You’re all I want, but I’m not ready to get married right now. I know you are, and if you want all that right now-- I don’t know, okay? I graduate in May, and then I want to work and-- and --I don’t think I can--”

Bucky’s thumb settled over your lips, stopping your panic.

“I know, and that’s why I said I wanted to wait. Let you find your footing in a new job and get yourself settled there before we even talk about it. I wanted to tell you all this in Boston. Tell you how much you mean to me. How you’re all, I think about, every damn day and the nights that I’m not with you are like torture.”

Your eyes twinkled with someone Bucky didn’t like, and his cheeks warmed right away.

“So that was the whole picnic thing? And renting out the skywalk?”

Bucky nodded sheepishly.

“I might have chickened out. I was worried you didn’t feel the same, and I wasn’t ready to lose you.”

One thing was certain; you were made for each other. You were both idiots.

“So, you do see a future with me?” You asked, nerves showing through your shaky voice. You needed to be sure. You couldn’t go through all that again.

“You weren’t just changing the subject with sex every time?”

Bucky barked out a laugh, the chair under you shaking from the force of it. You pursed your lips. He didn’t have to laugh so hard. It was a serious question. Bucky gave your hip an apologetic squeeze and shook his head.

“No, I didn’t mean to do that. It was incredibly sexy to hear you say you only wanted... me. You could have asked me for anything, and you just wanted me. I like that."

“It’s true, though. I don’t want any of that other stuff. You’re the only thing I want, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, and his hand slipped under the hemline of your dress. “Somethin’ you want… right now?”

Your slender fingers gripped his wrist, and you shook your head. “Nope. What I want right now is to get you home, shower, and maybe sleep till late tomorrow. I haven’t-- I haven’t been sleeping great lately.”

The confession made Bucky remember how terrible he probably looked from his own sleeping habits over the past eighteen days. The last he saw in the bathroom mirror, the dark circles under his eyes, were getting pretty hard to hide. His beard was unkempt and thick and Steve wasn’t wrong about needing to wash his hair. He raised the arm you were still clutching and pressed a kiss to your fingers.

“This how it’s going to work from now on? Just goin’ tell me what to do all the time?”

“Yep. That’s how it works when I’m your girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen dramatically, and Bucky grins.

“I am… I mean, it’s okay I said that, right?”

“Well, you are my girl.”

Bucky can feel your tension deflate, and he really likes the smile on your face.

“Mmm, and you’re my sugar. My sweet fella.”

#sugardaddy!bucky x reader #sugar daddy!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #alternate universe #sugar daddy AU

2K notes · View notes

pikemoreno · 4 years

Text

that first day

a continuation of ‘face to face’

pairing: din djarin x reader

summary: a beautiful day in a safe, pleasant place gets din thinking about his past, present, and future. takes place the day after the riduurok.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: absolute mush, sadness if you squint and tilt your head

a/n: writing posted two days in a row? who even am i?

face to face | wanna join a taglist? | masterlist

A long night turned into a comfortable, warm morning. The first night of being able to share a cot without the hindrance of the bulky metal that was in between you was better than you could've imagined. Since waking up an hour and a half ago, all you had accomplished was lying right there in that spot, exchanging soft words and softer touches. You both begrudgingly got up at the two-hour mark and slid your discarded clothes back on, relishing in the fragrant breeze and sunlight from where you'd opened the hatch upon waking. You were still pleasantly groggy when Din grabbed you by the hand, pulling you into an embrace for the umpteenth time, resting his head against yours. It was so comfortable for him. Now that he'd experienced it, he never wanted to go a day-- or even an hour, really-- without it. The memory of ever not being able to feel your skin on his was already fading.

His eyes blinked open and looked over your shoulder at a small noise behind you.

The kid stared at the pair of you, wide-eyed and-- frightened?

Why would he be--

And then it donned on Din: the little guy had no idea who he was. In the little one's eyes, the man in front of him was definitely not his buir. His buir was shiny and imposing; this man embracing his other buir was neither of those things. Din removed himself from your embrace to walk over to him slowly. You turned to face him too, trying to stifle a laugh at his evident uncertainty of the new Din.

"Ad'ika," he called softly, kneeling to his level. "It's me."

The kid was not having it. He shrank back with a little squeak, and Din's face fell. His own kid was utterly terrified of him. You grabbed the helmet from where it lay on a crate and handed it to him.

"Here. Put it on. We'll have to show him." Stepping calmly over to the skittish child, you picked him up, letting him bury his face in your shoulder. Oh, what a traumatic morning this was for him! He wakes up from a long night and looks for his buirs to find one of them with some strange man? He might've been hurting them! And where was his shiny buir anyway? Your voice stepped in to soothe him. "It's alright, ade. Look," you pointed to where Din had put the helmet back on. The little one squealed with delight, making grabby hands.

"It's me, see?" Din removed the helmet again and set it down, raising his arms to either side in a vulnerable, wide-open pose.

The kid looked between the two of you like you'd both grown three heads. The fact that his shiny buir was just a normal-looking man was a very rude awakening. He remained a little suspicious as you handed him off to Din, still very stiff in his arms.

"Well, we'll work on that," Din laughed, rubbing the little one's ears, "Let's get you back outside, ad'ika. It's already been a stressful day for you."

You laughed too, feeling your heart grow warm as you watched the fondness so plainly on Din's face. Sure, you'd heard it in his voice before, seen in it his actions, but never was his love for the kid so blindingly apparent. The way his eyes softened and his dimple appeared at the end of his bright smile, the way he made faces at him to try to win him over. He was surprisingly expressive for a man who hadn't had his expressions seen since childhood.

You decided to go down to the river today. It was remarkably calm, the water breathtakingly clear and sparkling with only the smallest little ripples interrupting the view to the bottom. You sat on the bank for a while with ade while he checked it out and explored in the sand.

Din, on the other hand, stripped down to suitable attire for swimming and eagerly jumped in, relishing in absolute freedom

You were curious to see how the kid would react to you taking him into a much larger, splashier body of water than he'd played in the day before. Could his species swim? Did they even float?

You started by holding him above the water, letting his toes barely touch the surface-- you were the one to do it, as he was still pretty unconvinced about Din and you didn't want him any more uncomfortable. His feet started kicking immediately, and you lowered him further. He took like a fish to water,-- maybe he was a fish, who knew at this point-- eagerly swimming between you and Din.

"Good, ade!"

Soon he was diving down to the bottom and, you winced, coming up with a fish in his mouth.

"No, don't--" He swallowed it whole. You sighed. "Alright, then. But that's your lunch." He just laughed.

Another hour of swimming and diving, and the child was pulling himself onto the shore and curling up on the blanket you laid out, eyes heavy with exhaustion. You followed him up, laying out on the blanket yourself and soaking in the high afternoon sun, letting it dry you. It was nothing short of perfect. There was no way you could be allowed to be this happy. You looked towards where your riduur was floating peacefully in the water, looking as much like a gleeful child as the little green one. He saw you looking and swam over, crawling up onto the bank. He fell onto the blanket next to you and then thought better of it, scooching down so that his head laid on your stomach. The cold water from his hair dripped down onto your sun-warmed skin.

"Stars, that's cold," you shivered. He chuckled, turning to leave small kisses on your stomach in apology, mumblingly out a "sorry." You smiled and moved your hand to his hair. It had become quickly apparent that Din really appreciated his hair being played with. He shivered too as your fingernails scratched against his scalp.

"You looked like you were having fun," you mused, moving your fingertips down to trace over the scars on his bare torso. You were still discovering them, learning them.

"I haven't been able to do that in forever," he half-whispered. "I used to love the water when I was a kid, but The Creed doesn't allow for it. Anytime I had my helmet off outside, I couldn't relax. If I got to be in water, it was never for fun. This," he sighed, bringing a hand up to ghost over your jawline, "Made me feel like I was back there, that everything was safe, that I still had my parents. I remember I used to beg them to take me to the lake. We would go every single week, no matter what." He smiled at that. The thought of their deaths remained forever painful, but it was clear this memory wasn't tainted by that in the least. Memories of family days by the water remained sacred, peaceful. "I was such a brat sometimes."

"Really?"

"Absolutely," he scoffed. "They spoiled me as best as they could. We weren't wealthy, but I never wanted for anything."

"That's all we can do as parents, hmm?" you half-joked, looking over to the snoozing green child of yours.

"Yeah," a beat of pleasant silence, "They would've loved you." You sat up, fully meeting his gaze. He sat up too.

"You think so?"

"Of course," he rested his forehead against yours, "Just like I do." You sat in that moment for a minute, interspersing it with kisses, before laying back down on the blanket. You soon joined the kid in a light slumber while Din found himself unable to join you fully. He was still unable to will himself into not being in protective mode, but he didn't mind. It was still relaxing to him to just be for a while, watching your chest rise and fall, your mouth twitch at a secret dream. He took the time to think about where you’d been: all you’d been through with him, so graciously-- he knew he hadn’t been easy to deal with at first. He thought about where you were going. Stars, who could say? He had no idea, but the very thought of more days with you thrilled him. Perhaps most importantly, he thought about where you were. Safe, happy, and belonging to each other for the first time.

At some point, the kid woke up and craved the same attention. Deciding this strange man had to be his buir, he hobbled still half-asleep over to squeeze himself between you and Din. He made himself comfortable and slowly fell back into the peaceful slumber of a carefree summer day with both of his buirs-- now officially, though he couldn't have told you the difference.

din taglist: @buckstaposition @dirty-dancefl00r5 @fleetwoodmactshirt @captain-skytrash @lellaren-uodo-rian

forever taglist: @acomplicatedprofession @hdlynn @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @princessbatears @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives @mistermiraclee @marydjarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @miss-leto @spacegayofficial @winters-buck @phoenixhalliwell @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @mrpascals @aerynwrites @jigglemiwa @manda-but-not-lorian @dindjarindiaries @pancakepike @huliabitch @sammiesweet @randomness501 @king-belamy @opheliaelysia @the-silver-iris @lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache @bisexual-space-slut

#din djarin x reader #din x reader #bri writes

169 notes · View notes

khunvegas · 4 years

Text

Buddie Fanfic Rec Part 2

Sharing more amazing fics from some amazing writers. if you see someone that you know, please, tag them so they know they are loved too

A Calendar, $100 and a Bad Idea by @evandiaz-buckley

“Let me get this straight,” Eddie said slowly, “you bet Hen $100 you’d make this year’s fire fighter calendar but you failed to read the entry form which states the theme is fire fighter couples?”

Eddie agrees to be Buck's fake boyfriend despite knowing he is hopelessly in love with his best friend and it's a terrible idea.

a touch too close by @theleftboobgrabber

Eddie was always in his space, and Buck was always in his. Piled up on couches; pressed close at the diner table, forearms touching, glued from thigh to ankle; hugging hello and goodbyes; shoving at each other after a shower; always a hand on each other back, shoulder, waist; always touching.

And it had been fine. Great. Until it turned too much.

A Truth About Eddie by @tabbytabbytabby

After two and a half years of being friends with Eddie, Buck discovers a startling truth about him.

Blush by @halloucinogens1 @infinityonmilehigh

Evan Buckley, though? He was Eddie’s kryptonite. His weakness. One look at that innocent face and those puppy eyes and the words would just tumble out of Eddie’s mouth like he had no control of it, like he’d been temporarily possessed by a very flirty demon who liked tall, blonde, pretty guys named Evan.

Lately, Eddie can't seem to get his mouth to stop betraying him.

Closer than I've ever been by suyari

“I love you, Buck.”

Buck smiles softly. “I love you too, Eddie.”

Frustration rallies and Eddie shifts, pushing himself up until they’re level with one another again. “No,” he says firmly. “You don’t understand. I said I love you, Buck.”

Buck’s smile widens, his eyes going soft and fond. “Eddie…” he says, warmth filling his voice. “I know.”

devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes by buddiebuddie (positivelystisaac)

"This candidate. Evan Buckley. He, uh, needs someone to reign him in.” “What do you mean?” Eddie asked. “Oh, you’ll see.” And see, Eddie did.

Nearly two years before Buck is elected to the presidency, Eddie is assigned to lead his Secret Service detail. Like, love, hate, and mutual annoyance ensue, though not necessarily in that order.

Fineline by @buttercupstrand

Eddie knows he has feelings for Buck, and he'd be crazy to miss the signs that Buck felt that way about him too. He doesn't miss the flirting, the quick glances. He knows they always make bullshit excuses to be together. always standing a little too close for just friends, always holding on to each other longer than just friends should.

But he knows there's a fine line between feeling something and then acting on it and that's a line Eddie thinks he'd never be able to cross.

I might have to tell you by @ingu

“Maddie, I made Chris a promise and I can’t finish this list. There’s no way I’m going to get away with all of this.”

“Really though?” Maddie said, and Buck could almost see her playfully doubtful expression. “You don’t think you might be over-exaggerating just a little?”

“Maddie, the list says to kiss Eddie.”

(the one where Christopher gives Buck a list of how to cheer Eddie up while he's gone, and Buck accepts without reading the terms and conditions first)

It Will Last Longer by @matan4il

Eddie wasn’t supposed to see those pictures, he’s completely aware of that. He’s suitably embarrassed of having stumbled across them, but look, it’s not his fault. Lockdown does weird things, accidents happen and, by chance, he came across his best friend’s thirst trap pictures.

Shameless porn that I just had to write the other day when Oliver posted those life ruining pictures on Twitter.

Liminal places by @theleftboobgrabber

After the train and Abby, Eddie cannot let Buck go.

“You’re impossible,” Eddie growls. He is. “And we’re not done talking about that stun you pulled on the train. What am I supposed to do if you freaking die on me?”

This is the heart of the problem. Eddie… Eddie would be heartbroken if Buck was to date someone, but he could take it. But losing Buck completely? No. just… no.

Buck swallows around the bit of omelet he was chewing on without enthusiasm. Again, he throws Eddie completely off. “The English teacher, obviously.” He says it like it’s a done thing really, already pissed off by it.

And that- that enrages Eddie to no end. “Fuck you.”

Pulse Points and Imperfect Words @mansikkaomenabanaani

Eddie decides to do something about his feelings for Buck.

say the word and i'm yours by quietuniverse

Buck falls victim to Eddie and Chimney's latest prank, which for whatever reason happens to be swapping out his phone background for a photo of Eddie that makes his mouth go dry.

And it's fine, really. Not weird to take a second to appreciate a nice photo of your handsome best friend. Nothing to see here, carry on.

It's fine until everyone starts noticing Buck's reluctance to change the photo.

take a breath, hold it in by @ta1k-less

“Are you an idiot?”

That’s the first thing Buck hears as he’s hauled back over the side of the pier, soaking wet and shivering so hard he might bite his tongue off. Eddie is glaring daggers at him, hissing curses in Spanish so quick that Buck, who’s currently trying to suppress the sound of a tsunami siren going off in his head, has no hope of translating.

“Y-yes?”

Talk About It by @lardominyardo

You want to send me your dickpic?

Just to see if it looks okay.

Buck starts sending Eddie his dick pics before he sends them to other people.

Eddie doesn't know why he decided this was a good idea.

The Jealous Kind by @buttercupstrand

“Alright, it your turn” Buck smiles at TK before sparing a glance at Eddie and Carlos “Okay, they’re looking should I come over there and put my hands around your waist or something, lean in really close and stuff”

“yeah, pretty much”

aka the one where TK and Buck fake flirt to see if Eddie does anything.

the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by @theleftboobgrabber

When the squad bets on how long it will take for Buck and Abby to get back together when she comes back to LA, Eddie is forced to reconsider keeping his feelings for Buck a secret.

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, hiding his face deep in his pillow, even if Buck can’t see him in the dark.

“What for?”

Leave it to Buck to be confused about something so obvious.

“Being you, idiot.”

“And again with the name calling,” he answers, content and sleepy.

Nights like this, Eddie feels like asking for a miracle.

But to the team, it wasn’t a matter of

Abby would take him back, but

when. A matter of days.

Time Makes You Bolder (Children Get Older) by SevenSoulmates

There’s a new resident moving into the suite across from Buck’s.

“What’s his name?” Buck asks.

“Eddie Diaz,” Nurse Corra tells him. “Hey, you know Eddie is also a retired firefighter."

Eddie Diaz, new recruit, a voice echoes in his mind.

“Huh.” Buck says. "Never heard of him."

We Fell In Love Dancing Kizomba by @imyourbuddie

After tragedy strikes close to home, firefighter Eddie Diaz moves him and his son, Christopher, to LA where they can start fresh. Single fatherhood, new job, and a new town stretch Eddie thin, and his biological Dominant needs are barely met. But the fear of repeating the same mistakes keeps him strung tight and unable to let loose.

Evan "Buck" Buckley loves cooking and teaching children in his cooking class. He's a Submissive, this is what he's supposed to do, what his biology is made to do, and he's good at it. But Buck's always had a dream that's so farfetched for a sub that he never dares to even voice it.

When Christopher asks to take a cooking class for children, the two men's worlds collide. Eddie needs to learn to let go, and Buck needs to learn that there's more to life than just tradition and expectations. And maybe, just maybe, they can find happiness along the way.

weak in the knees @realchemistry

Buck simply asked the happy couple a question.

He really should've kept his mouth shut.

When it comes to an end (I will want you to plea) @winters-blue-children

After the lawsuit, Buck and Eddie are casually sleeping together. Eddie tells himself it doesn't mean anything more than that. An unexpected incident at work brings up something Buck thought he'd long buried behind him and makes Eddie re-evaluate his feelings for his best friend.

When morning breaks by adamngoodbatch (sibbed)

Because, for all the love that Buck has for his job, 24-hour shifts still suck. And a sandwich of four 24-hours shifts on a row sucks even more.

It just sucks.

Buck thinks they suck even if they get a whole week free afterward. Even if he gets to go home and rest right after it. It just sucks. He knows how he gets after a 24-hour shift.

Buddie Fanfic Rec Part 1

And I believe in putting yourself out there, so these are mine

#buddie #buddie fanfic #buddie fanfiction #9 1 1 fox fanfic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #9 1 1 fox #this fandom keeps on giving high quality

243 notes · View notes