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jen-with-a-pen · 2 months

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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦

summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

word count: 6.5K

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.

If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is.

Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter– to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day.

You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.

When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.

Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.

After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.

You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week.

With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.

Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together.

Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”

The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival.

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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’

“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door.

“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.

You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.

Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger.

“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.

It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder.

The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit.

“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.

“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip.

Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing.

“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.

You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.

“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.

Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.

“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”

“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink.

Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it.

You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time.

You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell.

Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.

The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.

“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear.

“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”

White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.

He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.

“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.

His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.

You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below.

With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.

“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost.

“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape.

“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”

He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully.

“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.

“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.

“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”

He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.

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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium.

There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form.

Your face burned.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?”

You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.”

He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.

♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.

You swallowed a groan.

“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”

“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”

“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”

Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours.

“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.”

You wanted to take his finger and break it.

You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.

You doubted it was convincing.

“Fine.”

He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion.

When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.

“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

“When the hell did you–”

“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.

“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance.

He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.

The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles.

“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.

Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.

It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike.

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The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”

“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own.

Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–

“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously.

“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side.

“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.

“Because there’s only one fucking bed?”

“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.

You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”

His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward.

You swallowed. “You heard me.”

One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard.

Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body.

“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.

“Look at me!”

“No! Fuck– Get off me!”

With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.

You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.

“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.”

His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”

You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone.

“Is that all, Sergeant?”

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.

“You heard me.”

The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged.

“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.

“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”

Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.

“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you.

And you let him.

“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.

“Holy–fuck, holy shit.”

Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why.

He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame.

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart stopped.

“You’re telling me.”

Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door.

Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy.

Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.

Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however.

He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?”

You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”

“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.

“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release.

“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.

“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”

He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”

“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”

“Number fuckin’ one.”

The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core.

Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.

“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.

He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs.

“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass.

SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”

SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”

SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.”

Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him.

“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure.

“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you.

“Fuck! Again! Please, again!”

He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you.

“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode.

“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”

“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.

For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile.

“Thanks.”

He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”

You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”

“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.

“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”

“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

Note

here’s a little challenge for you: steve + bucky + reader + one bed. make what you want of it hehe 😇 congrats on 1k, jen! <3

In the middle of the night

AN: Another day, and once again, beds appear to be in short supply. Thank you for this thot, Lyn!

Beta’d by @lfnr-blog-blog-blog, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me

Main Master list | Challenge Master list

Summary: What’s worse than sharing a motel room with the supersoldier boyfriends you have a crush on? Having to share a bed with them.

Relationship: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Smidge Angst, Minor miscommunication, pining, teasing, implied smut about to commence.

“Guys, I’ll just take the sofa. I’ll manage.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince them or yourself. It didn’t work though; Bucky just looked at you with his eyebrow raised.

“Really,doll? You might be shorter than us, but you’re not that short.”

He was right, of course. At 5ft 10 you were far too tall for most sofas let alone the one in the room of this ratty motel.

“What do you suggest then? That we all sleep in that?” You nodded your head at it. It being the king sized bed in the middle of the room.

Steve looked up from where he was rummaging through his go bag.

“Seems like the only sensible option to me. Normally we’d offer to sleep on the floor, but…” He eyed what passed for a carpet in the room. You had to agree with him. The chances were that anything placed upon it for any length of time would be carried off by the roaches that were probably living in it. You shuddered at the thought and repressed a gag.

“Well as long as you two keep the mushy stuff to a minimum, I suppose. It’s bad enough when I’ve shared a room with you both before and you’re being all cuddly and shit. Makes a single girl sick.” This time your gag was for comedic effect.

Bucky grinned at you, and in two strides was next to you, arm slung around your shoulder, giving you a slight squeeze.

“Are you just jealous in general, or jealous of one of us, specifically. Wouldn’t blame you; we are both hot.”

“You wish!” You pulled a face and shoved him away. “Now go get a shower, Barnes. You smell of swamp.”

He pouted back, but his light blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Me! What about Stevie! And you, doll. We all fell in that water.”

“Yeah, but you’ve still got swamp weed in your hair.”

You reached up and plucked the offending piece of flora from his chestnut locks then, feeling impish, threw it at Steve. It landed on his shoulder, but he just turned on ‘the Captain glare’ as you and Bucky started giggling like children.

An hour later you were finishing off in the small, and frankly disgusting, bathroom.

Bucky had used it first, scurrying in to escape Steve’s overdramatic ire and you had gone in search of food. When you got back Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, in his sweats and rubbing his hair dry with a threadbare towel. You threw bags full of food for your two enhanced teammates onto the coffee table.

“Cap in the shower?”

“Yeah - he won’t be too long. I’ve known that guy to have a full shower in less than 2 minutes. And after all these years, I’m still not sure how he does it.”

True to Bucky’s, Steve had stepped out just then, clad in his own sweats, short blond hair sticking up from where he’d given it a quick scrub. Gathering your own wash things and clean clothes to sleep in, you’d slipped around him, trying to ignore the loving look Bucky was throwing at his boyfriend.

Luckily there was enough hot water left for you. The boys wouldn’t have heard the end of it otherwise.

Returning to the bedroom, you mentally prepared yourself for an awful night’s sleep.It was bad enough that you were, once again, sharing a room with two men you had massive crushes on - who only had eyes for each other, this time you’d also be squished on the same bed, no doubt clinging onto the edge of the mattress and trying not to fall out.

The two supersoldiers were already lying in the bed, eyes closed, Bucky being the little spoon to Steve’s big one. They were scootched over so far that you were worried that Steve was about to drop off his side. Gingerly you climbed into the remaining space, your back to Bucky, and you switched off the small lamp they’d left on for you.

Moonlight shone through the thin curtains, casting weak shadows. You tried to relax but found yourself just staring at the strange shapes thrown on the wall in front of you. You could hear both of them breathing.

Slow.

Steady.

Completely fake.

Bucky shifted behind your back, his arm brushing over your ass and hip. If he had been asleep you could have believed it to be accidental. It settled across your waist, a copy of how you imagined Steve’s was lying over his.

“Um…Buck?” You whispered out of habit. “What are you doing?”

“‘S not a lot of space, doll. We need to cosy up, so you and Stevie don’t fall out.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“He’s also like a radiator, sweetheart. And we’ve noticed you don’t like to get cold. Just go with it.” Great. Now Steve was joining in.

“It just feels… you know… weird.” Something about the darkness was making you feel braver than you had in a while. Although that bravery started to wane slightly when Bucky shuffled even closer and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.

“Whaddya mean ‘weird’? I think it feels nice.”

You flipped over to face him, despite the fact that there was so little light it made the gesture pointless. You were getting frustrated. Both emotionally and sexually.

“Bucky. Your boyfriend is right there, cuddling you, but apparently cuddling me is nice. And for some reason Steve is fine with it.”

The shadows behind Bucky shifted; Steve lifting his head.

“Wanna know why I’m fine with it?”

“Cos you’re secure in your and Bucky’s relationship, and you know this is just practical?”

He chuckled, low and deep, and boy did the sound do things to you. Oh, god! How keen were his senses? Would he be able to smell your arousal?

“Well, yes, but also, no…”

Before you could question him, Bucky’s arm tightened around your waist and suddenly he flipped you both, placing you in the middle of the bed, wedged between him and Steve. Your hands were pressed up against Steve’s chest, his coarse chest hairs tickling your palms. Bucky’s hand was splayed against your stomach, keeping you in place, pressed against him.

“What the hell?”

“We realised something, doll.” Bucky was practically purring in your ear. His hips pressed up against your ass and…oh!

“W-what’s that?” You could barely breathe, frozen rigid in the bed, afraid to move.

Steve wiggled down the bed in front of you, so that your hands were on his shoulders and both your faces were level.

“That you aren’t jealous of either of us when Buck and I are being affectionate. You’re jealous of both of us. You’ve got the hots for both of us.”

You scowled, hoping that despite the low light he could see your annoyance.

“So, what? You decided you’d both tease me. Thanks so much.” You shuffled violently and sat up, kicking off the last part of the coverlet. You pushed up on your knees, but Steve copied you, effectively blocking you.

“We’re not teasing you, sweetheart. Let me finish. Please.”

The bed dipped behind you; Bucky getting to his knees too. Your head was a swirl of emotions. Confusion, want, frustration, and something that might have been hope. Steve took hold of your hands, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of your knuckles.

“We’re trying to tell you… we’ve got the hots for you too.”

“Majorly,” Bucky interjected. “It’s been torture these last few months. Fighting beside you. Sharing a room. You, being so close, but not attainable.” You could feel the heat radiating off him and all you wanted to do was relax back onto his firm chest. And you wanted to believe what they were apparently telling you.

Steve tugged on your hands, pulling you closer to him.

“You can’t begin to imagine how Buck and I have been when we’ve got back to our apartment at the compound after missions with you. How we’ve been so wound up, so goddamn horny thinking about you. Thank goodness for sound-proofing. I think we’ve fucked each other seven ways from Sunday everytime.”

Bucky had moved again; regained his previous spot plastered against your back. Both his hands were settled on your waist, just above your hips. He dipped his head, and his hair brushed your neck before his lips settled just below your ear. Testing you.

“Do you want us, doll?” His lips trailed down your neck and you tilted it to bare your throat to him. Your busy mind had cleared. Now only the want remained. Bucky and Steve were pressed against you in the moonlight, surrounding you with their scent and promising you pleasure. All you had to do was answer.

“Yes!”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow

#Stucky x reader fic #stucky x reader #stucky x you #late writes #jen's 1k follower celebration #jen's 1k challenge #challenge yourself #lyn 🪐

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zepskies · 2 days

Text

One Exception

Pairing: CJ Braxton x F. Reader

Summary: Joey has invited you to a party at Pacey’s apartment, and CJ has agreed to go, despite the contentious history between him and your new friends. He doesn’t want to be the reason you miss out on a good thing, but it also means he’ll have to hide his apprehension (and his alcoholism).

AN: Here’s the sequel to Good Morning! This story takes place in 6.14 of the show, with a little twist.

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mature themes, but it doesn’t really warrant an 18+ rating. Angst, alcoholism, hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff, tinge of spice, and implied smut.

“Nice television,” CJ remarked, noting the giant monstrosity in the middle of this very loud apartment.

“See? Told you it’d be low-key,” you said.

More like high and off-key, CJ thought wryly.

Nickleback’s “How You Remind Me” was blaring. People you and CJ recognized from school were crowded in the living room around the TV, as well as milling around the kitchen with beers and solo cups, and it was pretty much a wall of sound that already grated on CJ’s ears. Pacey had to be in here somewhere too.

You squeezed CJ’s hand and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“You okay?” you asked.

He gave you a smile to hide his nerves. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He was no stranger to parties. He just didn’t often find himself going to parties where the host had once introduced his face to a brick wall.

Before he truly got to know you, CJ had a one-time unintentional fling with your (former) dorm roommate, Audrey. She’d been spiraling out of control in an alcohol-fueled depression. He’d seen a kindred spirit in her and tried to help her. He just hadn’t known that she was still sort of in a relationship with Pacey, who had a mean right hook when he wanted to.

And then there was Jen, Audrey and Joey’s best friend. CJ felt the worst for hurting her along the way, unable to reciprocate her feelings…

And, oh yeah, you still didn’t know about that last part.

CJ silently stewed in all of this when you led him by the hand to find your friend and current dormmate, Joey.

“Hey! Glad you could make it,” she said with her wide, doe brown eyes and a too-bright smile.

You gave her a quirking look when you hugged her in greeting. She smelled like vodka and orange juice, but you’d never known Joey to go too hard in the paint with her liquor.

She gave your companion a little wave. “Hey, CJ!”

“Hey,” he nodded with a smile.

“You guys want something to drink?” she asked, gesturing to the row of liquor bottles and various chasers behind her on the kitchen counter. You internally paused for a moment, glancing at your boyfriend, but you turned back to Joey with a smile.

“Yeah, Diet Coke would be great,” you said.

CJ gave you a curious look, but he asked for the same. Joey bobbed her head before she went to pour the drinks into some plastic cups.

CJ leaned in near your ear. “Sweetheart, you’re allowed to drink. You know I’ve been to parties before.”

In fact, you and CJ had met at a club party. One where Audrey had been led up to some guy’s room while she was drunk, and CJ had all but broken down the door to get her out for you and Jen.

“I know, I just don’t feel like doing alcohol tonight,” you told him.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. You just didn’t want to risk making CJ even more uncomfortable than he likely already was, being near Pacey. You’d asked Joey to talk to him for you—a plea for him to not try and kill your boyfriend.

And there your esteemed host was, coming over now.

“Heyyyy, good thinking,” said Pacey. He went over to Joey’s side when she turned to hand you and CJ your drinks. He grabbed another cup to pour one for himself.

“Hey, man,” CJ greeted politely. His hands were in his pockets, trying to mask his stiffness.

Pacey hesitated, taking note of CJ, but the beat of tension broke between the two men when Pacey graciously stuck out a hand.

“Hey. Good to see ya…not with my girlfriend,” he quipped with a smile.

CJ’s was a bit more strained, but he gave a wry chuckle along with his handshake. Joey elbowed Pacey in the ribs.

“Ah, what?” he protested. She gave him a firm look, pursing her lips. Then she turned to you and CJ with a smile.

“Hey, you guys have any whiskey?” Jen cut in, as she sidled up to Joey. “I’m not so much in a beer mood, but whiskey I could do. Maybe it’s the burn I’m craving—”

She stopped short when she saw you and CJ. Her smile thinned.

“Oh! Hey, there,” she said.

CJ offered her nod, but his insides tightened. He watched you brighten and give Jen a hug that the other woman couldn’t easily reciprocate. Jen’s eyes were on him, even while she hugged you.

You and Joey then broke off to catch up for a bit (CJ encouraged you to it), while Pacey went back to watching a football game on the mega-sized TV with Jack. CJ was about to join them when Jen’s voice stopped him.

“You guys look good together,” she said. She had a glass of whiskey in her hand and a small smile on her face. Her blonde hair was shorter now, cut just below her ears. Her black halter-style dress suited her.

But she wasn’t you.

CJ smiled more genuinely. “Thanks.”

Jen was a good person. He was still sorry that he hurt her, but he wasn’t sorry for choosing you.

You were happy to see CJ hanging out with his friend David, along with Jack and Pacey and some other guys from school. Meanwhile, you had the chance to catch up with Joey and Jen.

Maybe it would give you a chance to mend this weird rift of distance that had seemed to come between you and Jen in recent weeks.

You didn’t know where it came from, but you genuinely admired Jen as a person. She was smart, and she always spoke her mind and stuck to her principles. That was something you wish you had more of in yourself.

Now, she was a bit quiet while sipping her whiskey. Joey made up for it, with a kind of giggle-snort you'd never heard come out of her mouth before. You raised a brow, despite your smile.

"Yes, Josephine?" you teased.

"Sorry," she waved a dismissive hand. "Just remembered something. Like the fact that I really like vodka. I mean, it's clear, almost tasteless, so it's almost like drinking water, you know?"

You and Jen shared an amused look.

"Sure, that's what it's like," you said.

Joey's eyes went wide then. She leaned in close to you, leaning on your shoulder.

"Oh. Don't drink champagne though," she said, while eyeing Jen. She "whispered" loud enough to be heard over the music, and also hurt your left ear. "She once killed a girl with champagne."

Jen's mouth fell open incredulously. Your eyes went as wide as Joey's. This was some serious “girl time.”

"Wait, what?" you said.

Jen looked at her empty glass. "Well, would you look at that? Right on time."

She escaped to the kitchen to refill her tumbler, but you and Joey followed her; you out of morbid curiosity, and Joey because she too wanted more vodka than orange juice in her plastic cup.

Jen gave you a smirk as she filled up her glass.

"Don't worry, you're all safe. This is Jameson," she said.

You emitted some nervous laughter and leaned on the kitchen counter, trying to figure out where the joke was here. How the hell do you kill a girl with champagne?

“So are you sure you don’t want an actual drink?” Jen asked, gesturing at your soda.

“Oh, no. I’m fine,” you held up a dismissive hand.

“You sure?” Pacey said, coming up from behind your little group to find a beer. “I got your boyfriend a vodka soda. I can get you one too.”

Your eyes widened, though you tried to hide your alarm, smoothing your hands down your jeans.

“What?” you asked.

Pacey paused. He’d caught the surprise flitting across your face. “What?”

“Um…” Your hesitation came from trying to process information in record time. You looked over and saw CJ with David. Your boyfriend was indeed holding a different cup.

You returned your attention to Pacey. His brows were raised. Joey looked confused as well, while Jen was sipping at her own drink, in a way that hinted that she already knew what you were about to say.

“CJ doesn’t drink,” you explained.

Pacey brows popped higher. “Ah. He’s 21 though, right?”

“Yes, but he’s a recovering alcoholic,” you said with a sigh. You didn’t want to have to say that, telling CJ's business, but you didn’t know how else to explain why you were slightly freaking out.

“Oh…uh, sorry about that,” Pacey said.

“No, it’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it,” you said.

Pacey gave a wan smile and returned to the group around the TV, CJ included. You sighed and turned back to Jen and Joey.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know either,” Joey said.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said, shaking your said. “I’ll just check on him, if you guys don’t mind—”

Jen’s glass hit the counter, and she poured herself another whiskey on the rocks.

“By all means, check away,” she said.

“Hey, sorry man. I didn’t know,” Pacey had said to him, with a look on his face that also said:

Sorry you’re a leper. That’s rough buddy.

CJ found himself withdrawing from the rest of the guys, even as the smell of vodka wafted from the solo cup in his hand. He glanced down at it with a short sigh, but he didn’t drink it, even though his hand itched to raise the cup to his lips.

You startled him a little when your hand curled around his arm.

“Hey,” you greeted in a whisper.

“Hey,” he smiled back at you. But the worried look on your face made his smile fall.

“Wanna hang out for a bit?” you asked, nodding at a quieter looking corner of the living room.

CJ waved at David with the hand that held his cup, and he followed you over to the far side of the couch. You sat on its edge, arms crossed, while he found a seat on the sill of a large window.

You pointedly glanced at his cup. “Have you been drinking?”

CJ’s lips pursed. He took in your stance: arms crossed, shoulders tense, lips pursed, eyes deeply concerned and wary.

Are we having fun yet? he thought dryly.

“See, I’d be more inclined to answer that question if you hadn’t lured me over here under false pretenses,” he remarked. Though he did set the cup down beside him on the windowsill.

“What false pretenses?” you asked, your brows furrowing.

“You don’t want to be with me. You want to check up on me,” he pointed out. “You’re looking at me like an inmate who got loose in the psych ward.”

You frowned then. “That’s not true. I’m just wondering why you would take an alcoholic beverage from Pacey.”

“Your friend offered me a drink. It seemed rude to say no, so…” CJ glanced down at his hands in his lap. Your head tilted in concern.

“CJ…” you sighed. “Why the hell would you ruin your sobriety over something like that?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” he replied flatly.

“Oh really?” you said. Your lips pursed in irritation.

“I just didn’t want to get into it with a stranger,” CJ said, throwing up a hand. “But thanks for telling him that I don’t drink. Now he’s apologizing to me like I’m dying or something.”

A sharper sigh fell from your lips. “I told you we didn’t have to come here. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to—”

“Again, you know this isn’t my first house party,” he said.

“Yeah, I know it’s not. So why? Why did this happen tonight?” you asked. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been so disciplined with yourself. You have a set of rules, and you follow them.”

“Yeah, well, did it ever occur to you that maybe I realized that I was too strict on myself?” he said. “That maybe we wouldn’t even be together if I didn’t bend those rules?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously, a bit of anger sparking your blood. He knew he shouldn't have said that. It just kind of flew out of his mouth, immediately sparking his guilt.

“Okay,” you snipped. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be bending those rules at all if this is where it leads.”

CJ's lips pursed. “What, because I’ve been sitting here, spending the last hour debating whether or not to take a drink?”

He gestured at the cup beside him.

Your eyes blinked wider, with even more surprise, and a heavy dose of confusion.

“Wait, what? Are you telling me that you haven’t been drinking tonight?” you asked.

“Is that going to magically change all the conclusions you just jumped to?” CJ retorted.

You closed your eyes with a sharp, exasperated sigh. When you opened them again, you frowned at him.

“Uh, yeah!” you exclaimed. "Of course it does, CJ!"

“Well, it doesn’t work that way,” he said. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine. Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”

He was getting wildly defensive right now. You sort of saw where he was coming from, but it was still frustrating. You held a hand to your chest as your heart raced with the force of your relief.

“Look, I’m sorry for assuming. I’m just…I was worried about you,” you said honestly. “I knew coming here might be stressful for you—”

“I can handle stress,” CJ said. “What I can’t handle is you looking at me like I’m a powder keg waiting to explode.”

You raised up placating hands as you glared at him.

“Fine,” you said. “Sorry for being concerned about my boyfriend. I’ll try to curb that behavior in the future.”

At that, CJ’s frustration and anger simmered down, swiftly followed by more guilt.

You got up and blinked quickly, like you were fighting tears as you shook your head. You aimed to get by him, but he got off the windowsill and went for your hand. There was no drunk excuse for his behavior now.

No, this one was all him.

“Hey,” he said, in a softer voice. He looked down at you with softer eyes too. He could see now that you didn’t mean to make him feel less than, like you had to watch him so he wouldn’t mess up in front of your friends. No, you were just genuinely worried about his wellbeing.

You looked up at him warily. He held your hand more securely in his.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I am,” he said, when he noted your raised brow. “I’m really grateful that you care about me. That you’re concerned about me. But I’ve been dealing with this for a long time. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself either, even when we’re out here in the wild.”

A small smile twitched at your lips. You held his hand back.

“Out in the wild, huh?” you quirked a brow. CJ smiled back and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“I just need you to trust me a little more,” he said.

You nodded, smiling when his forehead gently rested against yours. The ends of his hair tickled between your brows.

“Okay, I’m sorry too,” you said. “Next time I won’t be so quick on the draw.”

You leaned up for a kiss. CJ met you there, sweetly at first. Then he tilted his head and deepened the angle of his lips moving against yours.

“Ooh save that for later,” Joey said, loudly from behind you.

It made you jolt in CJ’s arms. You turned your head and met your friend with a wide-eyed look of confusion. She held an empty wine bottle in her hand and waggled mischievous brows.

“Come on, let’s play.”

You really couldn’t believe that Joey was making you all play Spin the Bottle. For you, it was the stuff of awkward middle school horror stories of the highest form. She’d roped in you and CJ, Jen, Jack, Pacey and their roommate Emma, and Gus, a gross looking guy who was apparently her "fiancé" of some sort.

Gus took the first turn, and got creative with it—giving Joey a nice lick on the cheek.

That’s what you get for making us play this dumbass game, you thought as you laughed.

Joey ended up giving Jack a sweet kiss, followed by him and Emma sharing a little lip-lock, and even Emma and Jen giggling as they came together for a peck.

But when it was Jen’s turn, the wine bottle spun, and spun…and landed on CJ. A chorus of “ooohs” came from the others.

You felt yourself bristle internally. It’s just a game, you reminded yourself. Just a stupid, stupid game.

You patted CJ’s knee and tried to school your face into amusement.

“You’re up, babe,” you said.

He looked a bit uncomfortable when he met your eyes, and then Jen’s. She wore a smile, though she was a little absent in the eyes. She’d been pounding hard liquor pretty much all night.

“All right, CJ. Let’s get this over with,” she teased.

He let out a subtle breath through his nose, but he uncurled his arm from around you so that he could lean over to meet Jen across the circle. Instead of the light peck that he was aiming for, she surprised him by taking his face in her hands and giving him a kiss deep enough to make him taste the burn of whiskey.

He parted from her with a flinch. His eyes blinked wide. A quick glance around the circle told him he wasn’t the only one who was surprised, but you were the only one he cared about. He settled back next to you and felt guilty for your muted disbelief, even though he wasn’t the real perpetrator here.

CJ frowned hard at Jen. She just smiled and crossed her arms around her legs, head bobbing to the tune of the alt rock music playing.

“Damn, Jen,” Pacey said, laughing uncomfortably. “That’s some dedication to the game.”

You were still shocked into stillness. You knew Jen was a bit deep into the bottle, but was she really drunk enough to try and make out with your boyfriend in front of you?

Joey finally dropped her hands from her face (she’d been watching the scene through the cracks in her fingers). She gave you an apologetic look. She was very effing drunk as well, you knew, but not make out with your boyfriend in front of you—drunk.

You finally looked over at CJ, not knowing who you should be more irritated with: Jen for sticking her tongue down his throat, or CJ for letting her.

“It’s your turn, bro,” Gus said. Not that he cared about whoever CJ landed on. He just wanted the chance to kiss another one of the girls. Preferably Emma.

CJ shook his head. “I don’t think I—”

“Go ahead,” you said. Your tone was a challenge, as were your crossed arms, and the tight expression on your face. “It’s just a game, right?”

That last part, you aimed at Jen. She finally had enough self-awareness to avert her drunken gaze. Your teeth were grinding.

Though you had to pause when you realized where CJ’s spun bottle had landed: right on you.

“Aw, well that’s good,” Joey said, with a nervous laugh that broke some of the tension in this little circle.

CJ let out a subtle breath of relief himself. But this was a whole new challenge as he met your steely gaze. He tried to give you a smile.

Your eyes fell. So with a small sigh, he gently took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to him, just before he leaned in to kiss you.

He plied you softly at first. His lips dragged against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. Then he angled his head away from the circle, away from prying eyes as he brushed his tongue across your lower lip, seeking entrance. You inhaled deeply, and you couldn’t help but let him in.

You uncrossed your arms and found his cheek with your hand. Your fingers soon delved into his hair, nails lightly scraping the back of his neck. He barely restrained a shudder.

“Ah, okay then,” Pacey muttered.

When you parted from CJ, your heart was racing, and there was a fire in your belly that you could see reflected in his eyes.

“I’m a little thirsty, you wanna…” he trailed. You nodded and let him help you off the ground where you all had been sitting.

CJ’s arm once again wrapped around your waist, and he led you into the first bedroom he could find. The door shut against the blaring music, the sounds of laughter and stories and dumb middle school games.

Until all that was left was you and CJ, and the sounds of quick breaths, clothes hitting the floor, and skin against skin.

“I’m sorry about earlier. With the game,” CJ later said. “Jen took me by surprise.”

Much later, where you were tangled up in his arms and the sheets, both of you mostly naked and tucked under the covers. You felt bad that you didn’t even know whose bedroom this was.

Jack’s maybe? You could only hope so. That would probably be the least awkward situation if you two were caught in here.

But at CJ’s question, your blissful mood of moments before was wiped away. Your face dropped into a frown. You turned in his arms so that you could see his face, resting your head on his arm.

“Yeah, what the hell was that with Jen?” you asked.

CJ soothed a hand up and down your arm. He knew it was time for him to come clean with you, even though he knew it might make you look at him differently. He could only hope that it wouldn’t.

“Before you and I started talking, dating—well, you know what happened with me and Audrey,” he said, expelling a breath of regret. “Before then, Jen had feelings for me.”

Your eyes widened. By now you could’ve guessed that Jen wanted your boyfriend, but you had no idea it had started way back then. CJ looked you in the eyes.

“I just didn’t feel the same way,” he said. “Then Audrey and I happened, just the one night. But Jen…I know I hurt her, and I felt terrible. I still feel bad about that, because I never meant to hurt her. I just thought Audrey and I had a connection.”

“And then Pacey,” you supplied, realizing where this story was headed. A fight between Pacey and CJ. Audrey left for rehab in California. And Jen was left to nurse her wounded pride and hurt feelings…especially when you and CJ began for real.

You closed your eyes on a sigh. This explained why she’d been so frigid to you lately.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” CJ said. “I didn’t want to come between you guys, or hurt her more by pursuing another one of her friends…I just couldn’t help falling for you.”

At that admission, you softened. You caressed CJ’s cheek, and you brought him down to you for a kiss. Again, it was slow and unhurried, yet no less passionate.

Your lips parted from his first, so you could meet his eyes.

“I’ll talk to Jen,” you said. “But…I’m glad I fell for you too.”

You and CJ shared a quiet moment then, each of you processing, hands intertwined. It had you thinking about everything he said tonight, even before the game.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine,” he’d said. “Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”

You sighed and squeezed his hand. It was comfortably trapped between his bare chest and yours.

“Just for the record, you don’t have to be ‘normal’ for me, or be what you think I want around my friends. Just be you,” you said, meeting his green-eyed gaze. “I do trust you, CJ. I trust that you want to be with me, and that you have a handle on yourself.”

CJ smiled ruefully. He ran his thumb across the back of your hand.

“You were right though. The truth is I did get a little nervous tonight,” he said. “Being here, seeing Pacey…it brought up all that drama again. I took that vodka soda from him, and I was thinking about drinking it.”

“But you didn’t,” you said firmly. “Because you’re strong. Stronger than anyone I know.”

CJ looked down at your hand joined with his, at your face, set with honesty and vehemence. You seemed to believe every word of what you were saying. That alone made him feel strong.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile.

It hadn’t been all that long, but he knew this felt right. It always felt right with you.

You smiled back at him and leaned up for a sweeter kiss.

“Thank you for bending your own rules for me,” you teased.

CJ chuckled. He stroked your cheek and pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“You’re my one exception,” he said.

AN: As frustrated as CJ made me at times, somehow he weasels his way back into my heart. 😂💗 If you enjoyed this, let me know!

Ko-Fi Me ☕

CJ Braxton Masterlist

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CJ Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @brianochka

@branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords

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@waynes-multiverse @lovelyunjinn @twinkleinadiamondsky

#One Exception #Good Morning Sequel #dawsons creek #CJ Braxton #CJ Braxton x reader #CJ Braxton x female reader #CJ Braxton x you #CJ Braxton fics #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #CJ x reader #CJ x you #jen lindley #pacey witter #joey potter #dawsons creek fanfiction #CJ Braxton fanfiction #dawson's creek #zepskies writes

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beautifulhigh · 3 months

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I kiss the photo every night so you are in bed with me after all

FirstPrince fic, book compliant, AO3, 3k words (and lots of pictures)

Before the music plays me off the stage, I need to declare my thanks and undying love to @kiwiana-writes for their help with this. If it looks fancy and proper then it's down to them. Image descriptions are included.

Thanks also to Nick for saying it was "unacceptable" that Taylor signed over his face, and for Taylor's uncontained GLEE at "oh he noticed".

And I suppose thanks also to @wtfuckevenknows. Who is the worst (best) when it comes to encouraging me on shit like this.

Title from "My Dear Boy: Gay love letters through the centuries". Because if it's good enough for Casey it's good enough for me. Letter from Ralph Hall to Montague Glover.

---

Following the election, the boys are back on their relative continents and back to their lives. And it sucks. It may only be a month until New Year's but things are different now: they're out to the world, Alex is the official suitor of the Prince, and they're talking about New York and the Brownstone and Law School.

Alex misses Henry. Out loud. He's allowed.

"Sure you'll find something to keep you busy."

Henry will regret saying that. Probably.

----

To the fic!

#firstprince #alex claremont diaz #prince henry fox mountchristen windsor #red white and royal blue #rwrb #writing jen is writing #fic: I kiss the photo every night so you are in bed with me after all #henry fox mountchristen windsor #otp: history huh

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sidekick-hero · 8 months

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Scene from I wore his jacket for the longest time (excerpt under the cut) steddie | 58k | explicit

The last time they did this, they were just two kind-of-friends trying to drown out the memories of what they had been through together. At least that was the original plan. Steve couldn't have known that that night would change his life forever.

He can still picture it perfectly.

They had parked on the same ledge overlooking the quarry where they were now parked, the sky full of stars above them. They could see for miles, something their jittery minds still needed to feel at ease. Steve had grabbed each of them a beer and told Eddie to join him as he climbed on the hood of his Beemer. Eddie had followed hesitantly, cautious not to damage Steve's car, and it had made Steve smile at the consideration and care for his belongings, something that the kids never showed. They had settled against the windshield, shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm, thigh to thigh. It had been a cold night for May, so Steve could tell himself that it had been for warmth, and he kept telling himself that as he kept shivering every time their bodies brushed against each other.

They drank their beers and shared a joint that Eddie had brought with him. Eddie had been loose and energetic, listening to Steve tell a story about a customer at the video store, laughing out loud and carefree at the mental picture Steve was painting for him. He always did that; he always laughed at Steve's joke, even when the kids said it was lame, he always listened to Steve's stories, no matter how mundane and boring. And he had been so goddamn beautiful in that moment, the moon casting shadows across his face, deepening the wrinkles around his laughing eyes and the dimples right next to his full lips, and Steve had just kissed the laughter right from his mouth, desperate to know what it would taste like. After that, things got hazy and before either of them knew it, Steve was in Eddie's lap, kissing each other senselessly, drowning out any thoughts they might have had, any worries about later, after; bound only to this moment and this moment alone.

It's incredible how much can change in a single moment. If Steve knew then what he knows now, he could have been with Eddie all these years, he could have prevented so much pain and heartbreak. It's a bittersweet thought, but if Steve knows anything, it's that you can't change the past, you can only move forward. After all, everything that had happened since their first kiss had brought them here.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Steve steps out of the past and onto the hood to sit right next to Eddie, passing him one of the beers. This time, when he settles down against the windshield, he presses himself against the other man for no other reason than to enjoy his closeness.

They sit there, both lost in thought, quietly sipping their beers and gazing at the stars above. It's a comfortable silence they share, peaceful.

Eddie finishes his beer first and leans to the left to set the bottle on the ground, and even though Steve still has some left in his, he follows suit, freeing his hands and mouth from holding anything but Eddie.

"Hey," Eddie starts, and pulls Steve's hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it, "thanks for today. I never imagined you taking me to a fair of all places."

Steve uses the hand Eddie is holding to draw him closer, bringing their lips together in a chaste kiss. "You're welcome. Everything you remember it being?"

Eddie hums to himself. "Nah," he says, nudging Steve's nose with his own and smiles, "it was a hell of a lot better than I remember."

"Did you have a favorite part?" Steve asks, leaning back against the windshield and pulling Eddie down to lie against him. His arms wrap around Eddie’s middle and Eddie interlaces their hands above his heart as they both look up at the stars.

Eddie presses a kiss to Steve's neck, as if he can't stop himself from touching, a feeling Steve is incredibly familiar with. "Nope. Everything was perfect. Not a single thing I'd change. Right down to the fact that you took me to the place where we first kissed, you incurable romantic.”

Steve turns to look at Eddie and finds soft eyes looking at him with something like wonder. He wants to be looked at like that for the rest of his life, and the words pop into Steve's head again, as they have a hundred times before, but this time they slip right past the fond smile on his face and out into the open, "I love you.”

Eddie sits up abruptly to look at him and Steve's eyes widen with the realization of his slip-up. "Shit," he curses in a flustered voice as he turns to face Eddie, "Please, just forget that I said that. It wasn't the right moment, and I know it's way too soon to say that, but -"

Eddie cups his cheek and cuts him off as he pulls him in for a deep kiss, instantly calming Steve's nerves. Eddie licks into his mouth, pressing impossibly closer, as if chasing those words to their roots and Steve gets lost in the kiss.

Eddie pulls away from his lips, just far enough to look into Steve's eyes, hands still on either side of his face. "I love you too."

Steve blinks at Eddie, his eyes still dazed from their kiss. "You - you do?" The wonder is thick in his voice, but there's already a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Eddie shakes his head, giving him a look that seems to say, I can't believe you don't know this. "Of course I do. Already did the last time that you brought me here. I've loved you for six years, Steve."

Six years. He reels at that, seeing the Steve of six years ago sitting on his car with this beautiful, incredible boy who loved him but wouldn't, couldn’t tell him he loved him. He starts to tremble at the thought, "I'm sorry it took me this long to say it then."

Eddie reaches over and touches Steve's face reverently, looking at him as if he holds all the answers. "Don't be sorry, just c'mere," he says, and Steve does. He feels something settle in his chest, his heart taking root in his body, love blooming like spring flowers as he leans over Eddie and kisses another I love you into his waiting mouth.

This beautiful piece of art is my birthday present to my platonic writing soulmate, my favorite cookie in the whole cookie jar, the sweetest and fiercest friend you could ever ask for, @legitcookie.

Jen, I know you love our fic as much as I do, so I wanted you to see one of our all-time favorite scenes come to life. I love you. Thank you for being you and for being my friend. Happy Birthday, my dear. May the coming year in your life be filled with peace and quiet, wonder and love, laughter and luck. You deserve it all and more.

Thank you, @maikaartwork for the wonderful commission work 💜

#steddie #steddie fanart #steve x eddie #steddie fic #my writing #I really really hope you love it Jen because you only deserve wonderful things in your life #thank you for being my friend

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sugarsnappeases · 4 months

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also…. making things lilyrosekiller now (blame saints) but med students lily and evan on their placement year, who’re kinda friends?? maybe?? they’re both sorta outcasts in the med student body bc lily just works SO much and evan is such a fucking freak, so they hang out together sometimes bc no one else wants to

then there’s barty… who’s mum is ill and staying in the hospital and he’s coming to visit and he’s like absurdly hot in a really ‘i shouldn’t find him attractive’ way and lily and evan are just drooooling

like he’s punching walls bc his mum’s not getting better and they’re thinking about licking the blood off his knuckles. he’s fighting w a doctor about the treatment plan, all angry and assertive like, and they’re about ready to start stripping for him. he’s speaking gently to his mum and reading trashy magazines about celebrity sex scandals aloud to her and they’re seconds away from throwing themselves down at his feet in worship

and then lily and evan notice the other’s obsession and it becomes a sort of competition, who can get barty to notice them, and they’re making endless tea and embarrassing attempts at small talk and they’re arguing about who he likes more in one of the hospital broom cupboards

and then ‘i bet i could kiss him far better than you ever could’ and ‘prove it then’ and they’re just full on making out now and…..

barty’s back at the hospital again the next day and evan and lily are just. like every time he looks at them they sneak off to snog and he speaks to lily for a few minutes and five minutes later, she and evan are fucking in the staff toilet like ‘and then he said - oh right there, perfect - he said yeah whatever thanks, oh, oh!-’

and one time barty walks in on them and they’re just immediately ten times more turned on and barty can tell, like he’s raising an eyebrow and taking his shirt off like okay cool, this could be fun

and now he’s coming to the hospital even more, and not just to visit his mum, and they just AAAAAAAA they’re just driving me insane actually and at this point my thoughts just devolve into garbled screams so i’m gonna stop talking now…

#lilyrosekiller #it’s a beautiful day to go and reread jen’s fic series #clawing at the walls of my enclosure rn #also atlas said that ev is gonna be a med student in east of eden and i am FERAL about it #very much obsessed w that fic and on the edge of my seat for more of it #kara’s writing

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thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai · 6 months

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Saw a post* today that basically said "if you take canon too seriously, fandom isn't for you" and I was like ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

If you write canon fics, taking canon seriously is THE WHOLE POINT. Writing prequels, sequels, fill-the-gaps, and novelisations are as much a part of fandom as writing canon-divergent, AU etc. It's just a different way to interact with a piece of media and it's as valid as any other approach. And there are people who love to read such fics. (Just for the record because I know there are people who will try to correct me: at some point the characters in canon fics develop away from their canon version, but that's to be expected and not the point I'm trying to make here because, of course, they still started off as their canon selves)

As a canon writer, seeing takes like that makes me furious because I'm the type of fan who falls in love with fictional characters because of how they are in canon. I take offence in people telling me that I don't belong in fandom just because I meticulously analyse the source material to write the version of my favourite characters I love and I feel at home with. It's as stupid as telling people who love to change things around and play with their characters, "If you distort canon too much you don't have a right to be in this fandom because you don't love this media".

I'm SO sick and tired of people trying to police fans about how they should interact with a piece of media. I'm so tired of people trying to deny me my place in fandom. If you don't like someone's take on a piece of media, move on and mind your fucking own business.

*I'm not gonna reblog said post because I'm loath to give such takes a platform

#fandom #fandom culture #fanfiction #writing #maybe I've misunderstood the original post but I'm so tired of people telling me that writing canon fics suck #rant #I'll probably get hate for this but at this point I don't care #jen's mind vomit

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anistarrose · 4 months

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I've been told that I'm writing "lich mean girls"

#fic writing liveblog #to be clear: this is high praise to me #thanks jen

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minijenn · 11 months

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Totk has turned me into a horrible person, actually

#may or may not write something about this #on top of the full length totk fic idea i have #either way there's gonna be sad hours from minijen #what else is new #jen rambles #tears of the kingdom #totk spoilers #zelink

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silverofthunder · 3 months

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☆ swept into my heart ☆

Cardinal Copia x Fem Reader

🔞 MDNI 🔞 (not really smut, but suggestive stuff, so...)

summary: "Yet sometimes you got to take a risk and lay out your heart even if it might get broken."

content: 2.1k words, romance, suggestive stuff, just feelings

I've been a bit stressed out lately and I haven't written much. I wanted to write something, and this piece was born. What is plot? I don't know her. I didn't really have a plan or anything, I just wrote and this came out. Also, first time writing Cardinal. This is not my best work - this was probably the hardest one to write so far for some reason. But I'm glad I finished this!

You were cleaning the hallway close to Cardinal's room, mopping the floor while humming along the music playing on your headphones. You were completely focused on the music and your task that you didn't notice Cardinal coming until you turned and collided with him. It caused the mop to fly out of your grip and you nearly slipped as you accidentally stepped on the mop but Cardinal was fast to grab your arm and hold you up. You hear him mumbling something as you let out a puff of air. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you--" you said, looking at Cardinal with wide eyes and took off the headphones, letting them rest around your neck. "No need to be, I was also in a hurry and didn't pay attention so I'm at fault, too." You didn't know what to say so you just nodded, offering Cardinal a small smile. Then you realized that he was still holding your arm and a light blush crept onto your cheeks, touch sending your crush clouded mind racing. "I... You can go now, I will live," you said and mentally kicked yourself. Cardinal chuckled slightly and finally let go of you but he stayed there, eyes studying you. "Sorry if I overstep by asking this but how it's going with your... the one you have feelings for?" Your mouth fell open, your brows furrowing as you tried to think how to answer. Your conversation with Cardinal a few weeks ago seemed to have stuck on his mind and you didn't know if it was a good or bad thing. Probably bad, considering the fact that the man himself was your crush. Or more than a crush, to be specific. "Uh, it's... Well, nothing has changed." "Oh, I see," Cardinal stated. "It's hard when you aren’t sure how the other feels, right?" "You sound like you're speaking from experience," you said, tilting your head. Cardinal shifted, lowering his gaze for a moment and you didn't miss the way he started to fiddle with his glove covered fingers. Naturally, it made you curious and you had to know more. "Yeah, it's hard not to know how the other feels." Cardinal's eyes found yours again and the look in them was understanding, soft even. Your heart made a tiny leap in your chest and you smiled at the man. "Yet sometimes you got to take a risk and lay out your heart even if it might get broken," Cardinal said, then walking past you so close his arm brushed against yours and you turned to watch after him, seeing as something dropped to the floor just before he turned right from the next corner. You went to see what it was and called after him but got no answer. As you were close enough, you saw it was an envelope and you picked it up. It had your name written on it - you made sure to blink enough times to make sure you didn't see wrong. With a racing mind and slightly shaking hands you opened the envelope and found a small letter-like paper in it, starting to read it. "Have you ever watched a leaf leave a tree? It falls upward first, and then it drifts toward the ground, just as I find myself drifting towards you.“ — Beth Kephart

Meet me at the library at 8pm. — C A huge smile spread to your lips as you read the quote again and again. It was kind of cheesy but somehow it was just so Cardinal. While it wasn't a clear love confession, it still gave some answers to you. With a fluttering heart you put the paper back into the envelope and placed it into your pocket. Smiling you put your headphones back on and returned to mop the floor, thoughts drifting to the evening.

As the time got closer to 8pm, the more nervous you got. You were now pacing in your room trying to figure out what to wear, some outfits spread on your bed. It shouldn’t be that hard to choose but somehow it was.

With a sigh you ran your fingers through your hair, now completely free from hair loops as you had just brushed them. You stared at the outfits on the bed and shook your head. None of them seemed right and you returned to your wardrobe as you were sure you had something more suitable. It took a few minutes until your eyes settled on the dress buried behind all other clothes – the wardrobe was kind of a mess after all.

A smile made its way to your lips as you took the dress away from the wardrobe. Quickly you took the hanger off, opened the zipper and put the dress on, then going to stand in front of the full length mirror by the bed.

It felt a bit tighter than you remembered but at least it wasn’t uncomfortable and it still looked good on you. You loved the combination of red and black and the small golden details adorning the top of the dress. Now you only needed some shoes and since you didn’t like high heels much, you decided to go with your sneakers even though they didn’t perfectly match the dress.

Makeup was another thing that just wasn’t for you, so you went always without and this time was no exception. You liked how you looked, felt much more yourself when you were completely natural.

You grabbed your phone from the bedside table and checked the clock, your heart jolting in your chest as you saw the time. It had passed faster than you had thought and you should soon leave if you didn’t want to be late.

You stepped into the library and looked around, seeing only a few people here and there as you walked along the main corridor. The woman behind the desk looked at you with furrowed brows – after all the library was closing – and you just smiled at her, walking past the desk.

”Miss, we’re closing, you need to leave,” the voice made you stop in your tracks and you turned to the woman.

”I know but I have a meeting with… a friend,” you said and the woman eyed you up and down, raising her other brow.

”I see,” she stated, waving her hand. ”Go on, then.”

Shrugging you continued on your way, walking to the back corner of the library. There was a small, cozy spot meant for reading and relaxing. To your surprise you didn’t find Cardinal there but his brother, Primo, was standing there, by the shelf, open book in his hand.

His gaze found yours and he smiled warmly at you.

”Cardinal will be here soon,” Primo said, walking towards you. You nodded, offering him a smile.

”I’m glad he finally made his move,” Primo continued, sounding honestly pleased.

”Finally?” you asked and Primo chuckled lightly.

”Oh my dear, you have no idea how he has been these past months.”

Months? What had you missed?

A sound of throat clearing made you jump, and you turned to see Cardinal standing behind you.

”Well, it’s my time to leave now,” Primo stated and took a few steps towards Cardinal, reaching out to tap his brother’s shoulder a few times before leaving.

Then it was just you and Cardinal. The butterflies in your belly made themselves known and you shifted, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth.

”Uh, sorry I’m late,” Cardinal apologized while his gaze took in your appearance. ”You look beautiful.”

The compliment made your cheeks burn but you still smiled at Cardinal, then noticing that he was wearing his white suit. You had always liked that suit the most – he looked so good in it and now that you could properly admire it closer, you could feel the blush deepen on you face.

”You’re not so bad yourself, either,” you managed to say and Cardinal’s lips curved into a part smile, part grin.

A moment of silence fell between you and you both just looked at each other, not sure what to do next. You thoughts were quite a mess due to what Primo had said and you tried your best to gather them.

”Maybe we should sit down?” Cardinal suggested, finally breaking the silence, motioning towards the armchairs in the corner. You nodded and you both made your way to the chairs, moving them so that their armrests were pressed together before sitting down. Cardinal let out a sigh, his gaze finding yours again.

”How much Primo told you?”

”Not much, really, but he mentioned that I have no idea how you’ve been in the past months.”

Cardinal chuckled nervously.

”Well, he was right about that.”

You raised your brow, wanting to know more, and after a moment of hesitation you reached out for Cardinal’s hand, not caring that your own was shaking a bit. You took a hold of his hand, squeezing it gently.

”The quote you left me… Now it makes more sense,” you said quietly. ”So, you’ve been… pining after me...”

”...for months? Sí. I can’t recall when it started but…” Cardinal shrugged and you understood.

”You hid it well,” you stated smiling a little.

”And it was so hard,” Cardinal admitted. ”In the end I had no other choice but to take a risk and let you know how I feel.”

The look in Cardinal’s eyes was soft and your heart fluttered as he moved so that his arms were on the armrest, his upper body leaning closer to you.

”How did you know that I…” you left the rest of the question hanging in the air.

”I didn’t know for certain but the conversation we had a few weeks ago got me thinking and… Well, when you have sharp-eyed brothers, they can fill in the gaps.”

You hummed, thinking.

”Not really taking a huge risk then, getting a broken heart, I mean. Since you knew that I…”

Cardinal made a face.

”That wasn’t my best moment. But there was still a possibility that I and my brothers were mistaken and that you were only looking for a friendship.”

”I’m pretty sure the friendship card got thrown out the window quite a while ago.”

”Is that so?” Cardinal asked, leaning now even closer, the move awakening the butterflies in you belly. You drew in a breath as your heart started beating faster. Your gaze went to Cardinal’s lips and you grazed your tongue over your own lips before looking back into his eyes. Suddenly the air seemed to get heavier, warmth going through you in waves, all the thoughts in your head turning into a pile of mush.

”Yeah,” you breathed out and Cardinal leaned even closer, finally capturing your lips in kiss. It was slow, tentative at first, but grew heated soon as all the pent-up feelings were coming to the surface. At some point you found yourself on Cardinal’s lap, other hand on his neck while the other went through his hair, your mouths dancing together like both of your lives depended on that kiss.

Cardinal’s fingers pressed to your sides as you moved your hips against his, his low moan slipping into the kiss, the sound of it sending pleasant shivers coursing through your body.

”Cazzo!” Cardinal groaned, breaking the kiss and gently pushing you farther. Your gazes met and you both were breathing heavily, lips slightly swollen and you could feel his hardness underneath you.

A small grin made its way onto your lips and you put more of your weight down and moved your hips again, this time earning a louder moan from Cardinal, his eyes closing for a moment.

”Ah, as much I want to take this further…” he spoke, voice low, ”maybe it’s best to slow down a bit.”

You hummed, letting then out a long sigh. Even though your body screamed more, Cardinal was right. There was no reason to rush things. With a shake of your head, you rested your forehead against Cardinal’s and then, out of blue, you started laughing.

”Oh shit, this is…” you didn’t even know what to say. After weeks, maybe months, of being hopeless with your feelings, you were finally there. You finally had him and it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Cardinal joined your laughter soon and you laughed until your belly started to ache. You moved so that you could sit properly on Cardinal’s lap and he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. Your gaze dropped to you lap, the hem of your dress still folding around your hips, revealing your thighs and almost your panties, too, but at that moment you didn’t care about it.

”That friendship card might be ripped apart now,” Cardinal joked and you chuckled.

”Or more like set on fire and burned to ashes.”

#cardinal copia x female reader #cardinal copia x reader #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #jen writes fics

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jen-with-a-pen · 2 months

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❀ 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆 – 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ❀

❀ SUMMARY ❀ Ooey-gooey, fluffy snapshots looking into the lives of one Bucky Barnes and Honeysuckle, who have more chemistry than the experiments in Bruce Banner'e lab. Everyone else knows it... except them. It's not without a little help– from Sam 'Certified Wingman' Wilson– do Bucky and Honey begin to realize and figure out their feelings for one another.

❀ PAIRINGS ❀ Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

❀ WARNINGS ❀ Tooth-rotting fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, idiots in love, everyone knows they like each other except them, Avengers live in the Tower, Sam Wilson is a good wingman, touching, mutual pining, domestic avengers, maybe like a tad angst but not much, softness, mild to moderate language (includes cursing), lots of feel-good feelings, no use of y/n, no description of y/n besides maybe outfits but it's still vague

Read this fic on AO3!

header + warning banner by me ❤ dividers by @saradika-graphics

This series is nonlinear and each part can be read separately!

Spam liking will result in an automatic block!

❀ I – The "Not-Date" Date

❀ II – Another Time

❀ III – Sunset Spot

❀ IV – Think Pink

❀ V ❀ VI ❀ VII

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

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Congrats on the milestone 🎇

How about a little bit of lifeguard!Ari and enemies to lovers? Maybe he saves you and loses his shit at the thought of losing you!

Shallow(s)

AN: Thank you, Zoey my love! Here’s some angst and fluff with our bearded beach daddy.

Beta’d by @flordeamatista, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me

Main Master list | Challenge Master list

Summary: You hate working with Ari, mainly because you have a crush on him and he barely notices your existence, too busy flirting with all the pretty, skinny young things.

Relationship: Beach Lifeguard Ari x Beach Lifeguard Reader

Word Count: 2k

CW: Reader is mid-sized and muscular (no other descriptors), Miscommunication, Immature behaviour, Peril and angst (reader almost drowns), Fluff, First kiss.

A loud, deep belly laugh sounded across the open sand, making you instinctively look over to where it was coming from. You weren’t sure what else you expected other than the sight that greeted you.

Ari stood there, a beaming smile on his face as several sand bunny’s literally hung off him with a tighter grip than their skimpy bikinis had on their bodies.

Ugh.

You rolled your eyes. There was no doubting that your shift partner was good at his job, but why did he have to be so obviously shallow? He was always chatting to the skinny and beautiful, and it made you painfully aware that you were neither. Admittedly you couldn’t ever be classed as fat, but you were… sturdy. You worked out a lot and were muscular, which was handy in your job as a lifeguard. You had strength and stamina, and could easily bench press one of Ari’s fan-club.

However, you were mainly cross that you cared. You’d never admit out loud, cos you barely admitted it to yourself, that despite how much he annoyed you, you had a tsunami-sized crush on Ari. It was probably because he was one of the few men that made you feel small and delicate.

But he didn’t treat you like one of those girls. In fact he barely spoke to you, and when he did it was in the most derisive tone, almost like it was beneath him to even acknowledge you, let alone converse with you. You both cursed and rejoiced when you were rota’d on with him.

He had a variety of nicknames for you, none of them you enjoyed being referred to; Jungle Gym, Kaboose, Anne of Cleaves, Unit. Each one obviously picked to point out how unfeminine you were.

Well, fuck him.

You were good at your job, and you worked hard to maintain your fitness. You'd just have to try to ignore him.

Another day, another shift with Ari. He was sitting up on the lifeguard chair, while you patrolled the sand, chatting to beach patrons and keeping an eye on those you recognised as perennially light-fingered.

Suddenly, a shout rang out, and you turned to look out toward the water. You could see the thrashing of a pair of arms in the surf, and before you could think on it any further you were running out towards the waves.

You dove in, your float trailing behind you as you made your way out towards the person in trouble. As you got closer you saw that it was a very large man, much larger than you, and you were very glad for your strength training. When you came alongside him, you started your rehearsed patter.

“Just keep calm sir. Just relax and let me take you to shore.” You tried to place your float in his arms, before looping your arms under his armpits and started to swim back towards the beach.

However, he was either caught in his terror or not listening, or both, because he continued to thrash about, causing you to sink under the waves a few times and come up spluttering.

Just then, he was pulled away. You panicked for a second, worried that you’d accidentally swum into the riptide, but then realised that Ari had arrived to back you up. You were happy to hand over your charge, although you knew that later Ari would probably rib you for it and make comments about you couldn’t manage.

Treading water for a few moments, you coughed up the rest of the sea water and took a few deep lungfuls of air. Setting off, you quickly caught up with Ari and his charge, but the big man was still fighting the rescue.

It all happened so fast. One moment you were swimming and the next one of the guy’s feet flailed out and struck you in the face. The sea span in front of you and then it all went black.

“Don’t you die on me, Kaboose. Come on! Breath damn it.”

You could feel pain in your chest and then a pressure on your face and in your lungs…

You rolled over, vomiting up water, following it up with a hacking cough. Your eyes watered and your nose stung from the salt and the bile.

“Alright, everyone. Back up, back up. Give us space.”

Ari’s voice made your ears ring and you tried to get everything straight in your mind. A warm hand settled on your back, gently rubbing up and down.

“Take it easy. You’re gonna be okay. Just take some deep breaths for me.”

Later you’d blame the disorientation, but you pushed him away.

“Get your fuck-boi paws off me, Levinson.” You tried to stand, but you didn’t even get to your knees before a wave of dizziness hit you.

“Sit down before you fall down, Kaboose. You should really go to the hospital; you weren’t breathing there for a few minutes.”

You ground your teeth. “I’m fine. And stop calling me that! I get that I’m not the smallest or most dainty of women, but you don’t have to keep reminding me in such an unkind way.”

This time you were determined to get your feet, and although you wobbled a bit you managed it. And despite the fact that you were wet through, and probably had seaweed in your hair, you put your shoulders back and raised your chin.

“Now, I’m going home. Thank you for saving me. I’ll see you next shift.”

It was only as you walked away you realised that Ari had given you the kiss of life.

Fuck.

The only time his lips would be on for you and not only was it the most unromantic thing ever, you couldn’t even remember it.

Mid-evening and you were lying on your sofa. You’d had a bath when you got in, then gotten changed into your comfiest sweats and hoodie, ready to spend the rest of the day becoming one with your couch. You were in a foul mood, your chest aching and bruised from where Ari had given you CPR so you ended up putting on some horror films so you could laugh at how rubbish all the teenagers were for falling for all the blatant traps. You probably should have gone to the ER.

When there was a knock at your door, you groaned out loud. Who the hell was disturbing you at this time, unannounced? You looked through your peephole and groaned again when you saw who it was.

Ari.

“Go away!”

He leaned forward as if to look at you from his side of the fish-eye lens.

“Need to check if you’re okay. Open the door. Please.”

“I’m upright and I’m talking. There. I’m okay.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I bet you haven’t eaten yet, and I brought pizza. And cheesy garlic bread. C’mon!”

Your brain really wanted to tell him to fuck off, but your stomach had other ideas and rumbled loudly, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“Fine.” You undid the complicated series of locks on your door before opening it and gesturing for him to come in. The smell of hot cheese, tomato sauce and garlic filled the space and your stomach rumbled again.

“So it is your stomach that decided to allow me in.” He grinned at you, and although you’d seen him smile before, it had never, ever been aimed in your direction. It was like being hit by a tonne of bricks. His eyes sparkled, cute crinkles forming either side of them. With his free hand he pushed back the hair that had fallen in his face, drawing attention to the shaggy mane. Thoughts of running your own fingers through that hair flashed through your brain, and you quickly tried to shake it away.

“Come on through.” You turned your back and walked towards your living room to take back up residence on your couch. You thought that Ari would sit in the opposing arm chair, but were taken aback when he scootched your feet out of the way and sat down next to you.

“What are we watching?” Your brain was malfunctioning, you were sure. Ari passed you the takeout boxes as he shrugged out of his coat and you couldn’t stop your eyes from being drawn to where the soft fabric of his t-shirt clung to his ridiculous biceps. This was getting out of hand.

“Ari. Why are you here?”

He opened the top box and pulled out a slice. He took a bite and you watched the cheese stretch between his mouth and the rest of the slice.

“To check on you. I said that.”

“I call bullshit.” You pulled out your own slice. “You don’t even like me. Why do you even care?”

It took you a moment to realise that Ari had frozen, slice halfway to his mouth and a stricken look on his face.

“What?” Your voice was muffled around your mouthful of pizza.

Ari put his half eaten slice down in the box, took yours from you, and then moved the cardboard containers to your coffee table. You looked on in confusion, a confusion that got even more pronounced when Ari took your hands in his. And damn the man, his enormous paws had you feeling dainty, and caused a flutter in your chest.

He had never touched you like this.

Ever.

“I need to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel less than the magnificent woman that you are. If you were ever hurt by the things I said. You’re so different from the other women that I know. You made me question things about myself and that kind of introspection was uncomfortable and I took it out on you. I resented you for making me feel things. Strong things. Unknown things.”

Your thoughts raced. Was he really saying this?

“Are you telling me that you were being all ‘schoolyard’ on me? Pulling my pigtails because you liked me? Totally mature, Ari.”

He hung his head and dropped your hands.

“I apologise again. And I’ll keep on apologising until you accept it. Even if it takes forever. Because you deserve better than the shitty way I’ve been treating you. You are strong and beautiful and kind, and so totally out of my league…”

The most unladylike snort came out of your mouth, interrupting him.

“Me? Outta your league? Hold up - it’s you that’s outta mine. Ari. You’re so hot it actually hurts to look at you. Do you know how long you’ve pissed me off, just by being handsome?”

At your outburst his lips started to twitch.

“Who’s immature now?”

“At least I didn’t take it out on you.”

He inclined his head in your direction, causing his hair to waft slightly, the light in the room turning it golden in places.

“Good point. But are you basically saying that you like me, after I said that I like you? But both of us thought we weren’t good enough for each other, so we’ve just been increasingly antagonistic?” His smile grew wider, his expression laced with something that could be hope. You returned his smile with a small giggle.

“Seems like it.”

His expression turned serious then and he shuffled closer to you, practically dragging you onto his lap and taking back hold of your hands again.

“You scared me today. I thought I’d lost you. You were so still and you weren’t breathing…” His eyes started to glisten and you pulled one of your hands free to cup his bearded cheek.

“Hey. You saved me. You saved me, Ari.”

Your hand travelled up to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear, and you marvelled at the shifting colours within it; brown, auburn and gold.

“And you’re a warrior. A warrior queen. My Boudicca.”

You didn’t know which one of you moved -maybe it was both of you - but his lips were on yours and this time you were going to ensure you committed it all to memory. The slightly chapped texture of his lips, despite all of the lip balm he applied while on duty, the soft scratch of his beard on your skin and the warmth of his hand as he cradled the back of your head. Unfortunately there was also a painful ache in your chest as you pressed up against him, and you lurched back with a gasp.

“Oww!”

Ari looked at you with soft concern.

“Now will you agree to go to the hospital?”

You nodded, although you hated to admit he was right.

“Let’s go, Boudicca. The sooner you’re fixed up, the sooner I can kiss you again.” He scooped you up easily in his broad arms and you rested your head against his chest as he strode toward the door.

“Sounds good to me.”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @bodeckersdiamonddoll @krissy25 @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson fic #late writes #jen's 1k follower celebration #jen's 1k challenge

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heartstringsduet · 5 months

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I'll bring you some lines of the wonderfully silly and sweet fic I wrote with @strandnreyes inspired by this little indie artist. thanks for tagging me @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @orchidscript. I can't wait to fig into your snippets once I'm home.

Still, the first few steps are relatively simple, until TK says, “Okay and now let’s bring it all together.”

Carlos tries. The choreo is not that complicated, and yet, what seemed slow is a lot harder to do in the right order and without instruction. TK dances along with him, always a second earlier and to the beat, while Carlos scrambles.

“Good job,” TK says after, turning in his chair.

Carlos frowns at his own hands. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Hey! This is the first choreo you learn and you already memorized the steps. It’s okay to take a bit of time to get it all to work fluidly.” TK’s hand settles on Carlos’ forearm. “You have the most important thing down.”

“What’s that?”

“You can move your hips.”

I tag whoever wants to join &

@paperstorm @decafdino @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74 @alrightbuckaroo @ambiguouspenny @freneticfloetry @louis-ii-reyes-strand @lightningboltreader @birdclowns @thebumblecee @liminalmemories21 @wandering-night19 @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @three-drink-amy

#seven sentence sunday #tarlos fic #michelle writes #with Jen ;D #TS fic

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beautifulhigh · 8 months

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Every nation ought to have a right to provide for its own happiness.

"And that's when Henry knows: He doesn't ever want to go back."

In which Henry does go home with a request for his grandmother - and for Parliament.

Teen, 12k, book canon compliant.

---

Yes, Jen is finally embracing her Firstprince era and writing fic for them. Much love to @wtfuckevenknows for her comments and @capseycartwright for basically demanding I write this. Like I needed convincing.

This is just something sweet and fluffy and hopefully a little funny and a bit sexy with a tinge of canon-compliant angst (Henry misses his dad. A lot). Mostly it's about two boys in love and working towards their forever.

---

Henry flies back alone, overnight on Monday. He kisses Alex a goodnight goodbye, petting David gently as he walks down the stairs, heading out of the front door before climbing into the back of the waiting car to take him to JFK. He tries to sleep on the plane but very little sleep will come; his mind is racing with what he's about to do.

He'd sent word the previous week, asking for an audience with the queen, with his family. He'd only told them that he had something to ask, something he needed to do in person.

He's met at Heathrow, standards and protocols in place. Bea had insisted Shaan be kept on after Henry left for New York and so it's his familiar face greeting Henry which provides the smallest amount of comfort for him. It's his final week in service to the Royal Family: with Ellen's second term almost over and Zahra no longer working 26-hour days, they're finally taking the plunge.

Shaan and Henry had managed a fair few conversations over the last year or so regarding the immigration system of the United States and how shagging someone with status in the American political system both helps and hinders applications for Green Cards. The engagement ring that has been in place on Zahra's hand for the last few years certainly helped with his and now there is a fixed date for his one-way ticket heading west.

(No one really knows yet, but they've set a date for two weeks' time. The plan is to get married and throw a party and make the announcement then. Zahra hasn't told anyone, but Shaan isn't as good as his fiancée at keeping things secret, especially when it comes to his relationship with Henry. Aside from Alex, before Alex, Shaan was the only person Henry could trust and that was rewarded with a private 'Save The Date And Don't Tell Anyone Not Even Alex' message.)

Henry knows there is no one better placed to support Zahra as she forges her career post-White House. Someone who will make sure she eats, has fresh coffee, and a neatly pressed suit. There were times when Shaan was literally the only reason Henry didn't outwardly reveal to the world that he was actually falling apart at the seams. It's going to be nice having him a little bit closer, even if he won't be working for him anymore.

As Henry disembarks the plane, Shaan looks him up and down but says nothing. Henry knows he looks tired; he knows the jet lag is going to catch up with him, and he feels like his internal organs are going to vibrate their way out of his body with how nervous he feels.

Keep reading

#writing jen is writing #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #prince henry of wales #red white and royal blue #rwrb #fic: Every nation ought to have a right to provide for its own happiness #rwrb movie #otp: history huh

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wolfie-bee · 2 years

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Tension

read it here as a twitter fic

Kara's intense stare is focused dead ahead, but she can't control the way her body reacts when her hand briefly brushes against Lena's. Her eyes are automatically drawn to the depths of those seafoam eyes at the exact same time that Lena's eyes find hers.

Lena had always been open with her as Supergirl, but there’s a rigidity present in the way she holds herself since she’d been brought into the D.E.O for questioning. Outwardly, she was the picture of calm, but Kara was privy to the messy thundering beats of her heart since they'd accidentally discovered the true identity of Reign in her lab.

There's a brief uptick in its rhythm now when their eyes meet, a curious heat lingering heavy in the space between them. Kara expels a short breath, blaming the extra sensitivity on her brief solar eclipse induced fainting spell a few minutes ago. But that shouldn't cause the tingling sensation climbing up her arm. It's potent and Kara can't help wanting to brush against Lena again with the way that Lena's gaze lingers on her too.

She forces her eyes away, but they betray her in the way that they slide down to the tight fitted form revealed by the elegant cut of Lena's dress. She swallows a rough breath, unwilling to acknowledge the heated flush that paints her cheeks and colors her neck.

Her fingers curl into shaky fists as they quickly walk into the command center and remain clenched as they stand inches apart, listening to the others formulate a plan.

Kara refuses to acknowledge the ache present in her bones as her strength slowly ebbs away. That eclipse being caused by the Worldkillers' ritual was just a minor setback. She stands tall, posturing, expertly fending off the concern of her friends and her sister. It works well, almost too well, and soon they all shuffle out of the room following Brainy as he discusses the complexities of extracting Sam from the Valley of Juru.

A sharp wave of vertigo makes Kara stumble, one that abates slightly when she walks to the far corner of the room, closer to the windows, closer to the slowly eclipsing sun.

“Agent Danvers was right,” Lena says conversationally. Kara startles a bit, now realizing that Lena hadn’t followed the others. Her ears ring as Lena’s voice takes on a tinny quality. “You should have stayed in the medbay.”

"I'm fine." Kara automatically rebuts, lifting her aching head to challengingly lock eyes with Lena.

"Oh? Is that why you look like you're two seconds away from fainting at my feet again?"

Kara prickles, indignation warring in her veins and a rebuttal on her tongue that doesn’t quite make it past her lips when she stumbles, back crashing against the wall behind her. Her vision blurs, breath stuttering for a moment before it comes sharply into focus when the blaze of Lena’s warm hands touch her face. The touch anchors her to reality, to this room, as perspiration beads on her forehead.

“Don’t go to that valley.” Lena insists. “You know you won’t have powers there.”

There’s concern in those seafoam eyes, even after they’d just been arguing about the ethics of Lena having kryptonite. Kara feels a little exposed beneath them, a little too sensitive to hold their challenge.

She’s also slightly alarmed that she didn’t see or hear Lena coming. Her eyes burn, the telltale sign of heat vision rimming her irises and she blinks hard, desperately trying to suppress it as her super hearing detects another faint uptick of Lena’s heartbeat. There's something achingly soft in the layers of those beautiful eyes, something that sparks that magnetic burn of attraction low in Kara’s abdomen.

“I have to go.” She answers resolutely.

A moment passes as they study each other, then Lena’s gaze turns flinty and the softness of concern shutters away beneath the guarded intensity of anger.

“Why are you so stubborn?” She huffs, ripping her hands away from Kara’s face. Kara breathes out sharply, reeling from the sudden loss of contact.

“And you aren’t?” She fires back.

Lena scoffs. "I'm not the one losing control of their powers."

“And I’m not the one using kryptonite in experiments.”

Lena grounds her teeth, a vein flickering in her jaw and Kara clamps her mouth shut.

“I told you that I did it for a friend.” Lena stiffens, lifting her chin. “And I’d do it again.”

"Kryptonite can kill me." Kara points out. "What did you expect me to think?"

"That I only used it to subdue Reign."

Kara's jaw tenses and she struggles to stand completely upright, grasping onto the ledge at the window for support. She doesn’t expect Lena to immediately step back into her space, concern etched in the pretty layers of her eyes even as indignation lingers heavy in them. The heat of her curves press into Kara’s side as she slips an arm around her waist in assistance. Kara’s face burns, but she lets her arm fall around Lena’s shoulders so that she can manage to stay upright.

But before she can butt in to continue her argument, Lena continues.

"Minutes before the briefing you fell in a dead faint at my feet and for a few seconds everyone in here thought I was suspect number one."

Kara deflates at the worry that shakes in Lena's voice, even as the implications of her words wound her.

"So you tell me, Supergirl, if you were me, would you be able to trust anyone in this building?"

"I trusted you, Lena." Kara answers. “I vouched for you.”

“Not enough, evidently." Lena grits out, and Kara realizes belatedly that she’s leaning a little more heavily into her as Lena’s other hand reaches out to curl in tight over Kara's shoulder where it bunches in her cape.

One little graze of Lena's fingers directly against her skin is enough to burn Kara. She's not exactly sure what's happening, why all of a sudden she can't control the urge to be closer, but the spicy notes of Lena's perfume hangs heavy in the air and Kara can't help but imagine her mouth pressed to that freckle on her neck. She clears her throat, mentally trying to clear those thoughts away when Lena tries, and fails, to drag her away from the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you to the medbay." She huffs, that vein in her forehead making an appearance as she considers Kara. They square off in a stare that ends with Lena straightening her posture and sticking her nose in the air. “Fine, then. I’m getting Agent Danvers,” she announces, detangling herself from Kara’s embrace.

Kara reacts immediately, sliding an arm around Lena’s waist and pulling her back in. Lena stumbles in her impressive expensive heels, hands landing firmly on the glyph on Kara’s chest. Their eyes meet and Lena flushes deeply, a pretty color that stains her beautiful ivory skin. Kara’s eyes get stuck there a moment too long for Lena not to notice.

"No." Kara manages to find her voice to say.

"Let go of me."

"You're gonna make them bench me."

"You're incorrigible!"

"And you're trying to get me taken off this mission."

Lena shoves against her chest, the warmth of her curves still solidly molded to Kara's. "You can't even stand without support!"

"It'll go away."

“And what if it doesn’t? There’s a fucking solar eclipse outside and -”

“I’m aware.”

"You're such an unbelievably stubborn, arrogant, egotistical…."

"Don’t hold back now."

"...idiot!" Lena huffs, pressing in hard against the glyph on Kara's chest.

"Yeah well why do you care what I do?" Kara fires back, annoyance slithering up her spine as Lena's frustration leaks out in an annoyed little huff.

"I don't," she insists, pointing an accusing finger against Kara's chest. "I just don't want to be here when you fall on your stupid, handsome face again and they accuse the nearest Luthor of killing you."

"Well you don't have to be here wh -" Kara stops abruptly, the words now registering in her brain.

Her eyes widen as Lena's heartbeat spikes like she hadn't meant to say that. Kara can't help the quiet delighted chuckle that falls from her lips.

"You think I'm handsome?" She asks, a smug smile curving the corners of her mouth.

Lena growls in frustration, reaching up to tangle her fingers in her hair.

"Listen here, you overgrown space puppy –"

"That's handsome overgrown space puppy to you." Kara snickers.

The fingers in Kara's hair clench tight against her scalp. "I should have just let you fall."

Kara winces, even more alarmed that she could feel the pain from Lena's tight hold. But not enough to stop goading her, if only to keep her close, to revel in the addictive scent of honeysuckle clinging to her skin and the warmth of her body pressed so closely to Kara's.

"Oh? But then you'd miss out on our banter.” Kara teases. “This is how we connect now, Lena."

Lena raises an eyebrow. "The only thing I'd love to connect is my fist to your pretty face."

"Handsome and pretty. You seem awfully fond of my face."

"Shut up!" Lena huffs and Kara’s eyes are automatically drawn to her fluttering pulse as she stubbornly tilts her chin. Her eyes narrow dangerously but Kara just smiles, tightening her hold around her waist.

“Make me.” She goads, unable to help herself from pressing in a little closer.

She hears the light hitch in Lena's voice, feels her warm breath stutter against her skin and finally notices the dangerous glint in her wide blown pupils. Kara wants to kiss her, she realizes belatedly, she wants to kiss her best friend. Lena’s eyes are so mesmerizing and they fixate on Kara's mouth when she drags her tongue across her lower lip.

And then, Lena loses it.

Before Kara can form a coherent thought, Lena’s mouth crashes into her own, a hungry torrent that draws her in like a moth to a flame. Her hands catch on Lena’s slender hips as the kiss deepens, a raging inferno of want that Kara hadn’t realized lay beneath the surface. Her mouth is impossibly warm and so soft, Kara can't get enough of her kisses. It's downright scary how much it excites her, how her stomach tumbles over itself and that buzz between her thighs pulses with electric heat. Lena’s lips are liquid fire, awakening a fierce need within Kara.

Her skin feels like it’ll burst apart from the heat of Lena’s body but she can’t seem to care. She’s Icarus, flying too close to the sun as she dips forward, meeting her in the throes of another kiss. The fingers in Kara's hair slacken and Kara deepens the kiss, a devastating dance that slithers like a heated caress through her body.

Lena groans, a sound that vibrates against Kara’s mouth as she clings tighter to Kara’s cape, kissing her with a needy passion that surprises Kara with its intensity. There’s nothing soft about this kiss as it merges into another, but it's warm and wet and Kara’s already too far gone at the skillful way that Lena’s tongue parts her lips.

Kara breaks it too soon to gulp in air that she doesn’t need, overwhelmed by the intensity as her hands reach up to rid Lena’s hair of that tight ponytail. Her eyes are hazy with want, lips red and tempting and Kara wants, oh she wants so feverently her heart is ready to burst.

Lena’s hands smooth down the material of her supersuit to settle on the crest of the House of El and she lets out a soft growl, dipping forward to bite down harshly on the column of Kara's neck. Kara arches against her, a hollow whimper parting her lips as Lena's tongue drags over her sensitive skin to soothe the burn. Kara uses the brief reprieve to switch their positions.

Lena stumbles beneath her and Kara really didn't think this through as Lena’s back smacks hard against the cold wall behind. Kara’s hands land just a few inches from her face, digging finger indentations on either side and trapping Lena between the heated cradle of her hips. There's surprise in those electric eyes, eyes that blatantly stare back at her until Kara breaks it in favor of leaning in to press a kiss to the column of Lena’s throat. Lena’s breath hitches when Kara’s lips teases against her skin and she whimpers, a sound that Kara wants to hear again.

Kara presses in softly, lips dragging against the delicate line of her jaw. Lena breathes out a wispy sigh, heartbeat loud in Kara's ears and Kara nuzzles in closer as Lena's fingers comb through her hair.

"Lena." Kara breathes out. Lena hums, a tiny sound that vibrates against Kara's mouth. She presses kisses against the hollow of her throat, mouthing at that freckle she's been so distracted by, tracing the silky softness of Lena's skin.

Kara’s hands drop to her hips, as her leg slides absentmindedly between Lena’s parted thighs, drawing a stuttered breath from Lena as her kisses move along the curve of her reddened cheek.

Everything about Lena is so addictive. Kara leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. She can't get enough of the softness of her skin, the warmth of her lips and the enticing scent of jasmine clinging to her shiny soft hair. The way she grinds against Kara's thigh sends sparks of arousal through her and she's never felt this turned on in her life.

Her hands slide down, moving over the curves hidden by the knee length dress and Lena closes her eyes and spreads her legs, the dress pulling tight as it bunches higher on her thighs with the motion. Kara burns, heat smoldering in her abdomen and Lena arches against her touch, so responsive and so kissable.

Kara's hands eagerly map the slope of Lena’s thighs, moving the dress further up to palm at smooth pale skin.

Lena’s touch burns where her hands move over her biceps and Kara presses forward, directly against warm heat. The sound that Lena makes is high pitched and needy and Kara wants to hear more of it, has to hear more of it.

"Kara," Lena breathes her name, nails raking along Kara's scalp. Kara moans, feeling it all, as Lena draws her into the throes of a heavy, distracting kiss.

Her hips move against Kara’s thigh with their own gravity, urging Kara on and Kara has to curl her hands around her hips, controlling their mindless motion. The quiet noises she makes against Kara’s mouth are earth shattering. The airy notations of it vibrate against Kara’s mouth, making the air around them buzz against Kara’s skin.

“Kara please,” Lena begs, “Kara.”

The repetition of the name draws a stillness to their movements and Kara draws back a little, eyes hazy and head still foggy as Lena studiously avoids her eyes.

"Lena."

"I'm sorry." Lena tenses against her, swallowing roughly. That freckle on her throat bobs with the effort and Kara's mouth waters. "I…I don’t know why I said that."

That manages to break through the haze and Kara’s heartbeat spikes, an irrational fear, as every scenario of this going the wrong way flashes through her mind. Guilt sweeps up her chest, heavy and potent and she draws a bit more space between them. She can’t go on unless the truth is out there for Lena to parse and not hidden in the depths of deception.

“I know why.” Kara begins softly, regretfully removing her hands from Lena’s waist and the thigh lodged desperately between her legs. Lena makes a tiny noise of protest that she tries to smother by clearing her throat and Kara's face burns but she lifts her chin, meeting Lena’s eyes. “My real name is Kara Zor-El.”

The anger returns to Lena's eyes with full force and for a split second, Kara thinks that she’s just lost her best friend.

Kara doesn't expect Lena to reach out, clamping her hands against her shoulders like she was going to push her way. Instead, she does the opposite and Kara ends up right back where she was, with her thigh lodged desperately between Lena's legs and her hands pressed to the wall on opposite sides of her head.

"You lied to me." Lena grits out, fingers digging into the pads of Kara's shoulders. Kara winces, concerned that she could still so clearly feel pain from that. She swallows roughly, nodding sadly.

"I didn't at first. I was going to tell you. I wanted to but I-"

"Just wanted to toy with me as two different people?" Lena supplies and Kara's brows crinkle as Lena loosens her fingers.

"No Lena, I would never -"

"Treat me like a Luthor?"

"No!" Kara vehemently rebutts, moving in to gently frame Lena's face between her hands. Lena stiffens a little but she doesn't pull away. "I trust you." Kara breathes.

"But -"

"I admit that I was surprised by the kryptonite. It feels like nails running through my veins and I….it reminds me of…”

“Of?”

"I watched my planet die." Kara answers immediately, forcing her voice not to shake. "I was stuck in the Phantom Zone for twenty four years. I lived through your brother turning the sun red. I found my aunt only to lose her again and I…" Kara stops, turning her head away. She swallows roughly, removing her hands from Lena’s face as her trembling fingers clenched into fists. "I'm familiar with pain."

Lena's jaw flexes and she looks away, eyes shadowed with something like regret.

"I…" Lena starts, a contrite frown pinching her brows.

"But….if I had to trust anyone with it, I choose you, always."

There's a beat of silence between them, one that pulses with heat and smolders like embers when their eyes meet in the middle of their muddled emotions. Lena’s eyes soften - a feat that stirs threads of desire within Kara. Kara fully lets her go, ready to step back as Lena remains frozen, her lipstick less lips parting as she assesses the sincerity of Kara’s words.

Kara’s stomach flutters, skin buzzing as Lena’s eyes stare into her soul. The staring lengthens as Lena's eyes flicker between hers and then slowly drift down to her lips. Kara's face burns at the look in those eyes and then they're sinking into each other, foreheads pressed together as their breaths mingle in the space between.

"I'm still so angry at you." Lena breathes out. Kara closes her eyes, accepting it all. "And we obviously need to talk some more about this, but you're taking me to that valley with you to rescue Sam."

Kara's eyes fly open. "What -"

"Sam is my friend too."

"Lena."

"And sue me if I don't feel like sending you off somewhere that you could die, especially when I'm dying to kiss you again."

Kara laughs, one that gets swallowed by Lena's eagerly awaiting mouth. This kiss is sweet, lingering, deep. Lena melts, tilting her head back as Kara drifts forward, kissing Lena soundly.

Lena releases her then, panting against her lips as their eyes flutter open. She's a mess, a pretty mess, Kara thinks as she curls a finger through a stray curl and Lena drapes an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. Kara sinks into it, tucking her face against Lena’s neck as Lena’s fingers comb through her hair.

"We have less than two hours until totality." Lena says determinedly. "If we're going to stop that eclipse, we need to get you back to the medbay first."

"Lena," Kara protests, one that fades when Lena leans back and lifts an eyebrow. Kara swallows down her objections and instead gives a little eye roll.

"And then," Lena starts, her voice taking on a smoky quality as her hand tangles with the one Kara's still got pressed to her thigh. Lena slips their hands beneath her dress to press directly over that heated wet spot on her panties and Kara nearly chokes on the rest of her words. She stutters, face flushing as Lena's lips curve into a dangerous smile. "You owe me, Supergirl."

“Yes ma'am.” Kara answers, leaning forward to seal her promise with another sweet kiss.

Happy Supercorp Sunday everyone!! You know the drill, this fic was written on Twitter today in response to the gif tweeted above by the inspirational gif Master @CSIRJen thank you to everyone who's gotten this far, I know this one was a bit lengthy especially for a twitter fic 😂 and special thanks to my awesome friend bibliowormlibrarian for her invaluable inputs in this fic and for helping me in my pursuit to twist canon into even more supercorp 💗

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