Lulu, over 18 (probably too far over 18 to be using this site, but oh well!). Marvel, Jeremy Renner, Chris Evans, Henry Cavill to name a few interests.
Hi lovely! Thank you so much for Valentine's day ficlets â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž
Could I please have "Go ahead, lock your doors, change your phone number. Iâll still find you.â with Lee Bodecker, pwetty pwease? Thank you!!!
Oh, this man! @perdidosbucky-yyo , since you had also requested Lee.
Late Night Visitor
Pairing: Dark!Lee Bodecker x Female Reader
Summary: The sheriff pays you a visit one night.
Word Count: Over 710
Warnings: Possessive behavior, implied noncon, abuse of power, Lee Bodecker (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You were getting ready for bed when someone knocked on your door. You hadnât invited anyone over, and it was a bit late for a surprise visitor. Grabbing your robe with a nervous breath, you tiptoed toward the front of your house. Times like this you wished you didnât live alone.Â
Maybe if you had someone looking out for you, theyâd keep you safe from-
âOpen up, sugar! I know youâre in there!â you heard from the other side of the door. âAinât polite to keep the sheriff out in the cold, so show me some hospitality and lemme in.â
You swallowed. Lee Bodecker. People either feared or respected him, or both for some. He thought he ran the town just because he had a badge, and maybe he did.Â
But he never inflicted any kind of power over you. He was kind when he stopped into the diner at the same time and day every week. Used his manners with you, always left you a nice tip. So you started bringing some pie you baked from home and gave him a slice to go with his meals. You were just being polite. Nothing more.
You shouldâve known heâd take your kindness as some form of courting.
âBet youâre sweeter than any slice of pie, sugar,â he once said, lust in his eyes that he didnât bother to hide before he tipped his hat and left.
âWhat are you doing here?â you asked, resting your hands against the door as if it would keep him out.
âI was hungry and wonderinâ if you had any of that pie for me to eat,â he said. Your stomach rolled as you imagined him licking his lips. âI know you bring âem from home just for me.â
âI was being nice,â you said, shrieking when he slammed his fist against the door.
âSo was I. âSâwhy I kept them boys off your tail. Smart girl, donât tell me you forgot?â he snarled. âTime to pay up.â
You closed your eyes. Some guys were giving you a hard time one night during an already painful shift. You mistakenly asked Lee if he could politely ask them to leave. He did. And while they didnât care to listen to you, they shut up pretty quickly when Lee showed his gun. He made sure they all left you a nice tip, too.
âYou know Iâll always take care of you, sugar,â he promised, leaving just a few moments after the group did.Â
You found out the next day that Lee arrested them. Something about open alcohol containers and harrassment and resisting arrest. None of the guys around two looked at you twice anymore. You heard the whispers and saw the sneers from some of the women. Everyone thought you belonged to the sheriff.
That was the problem. You werenât anyoneâs property, and Lee would own anyone who ended up with him. That couldnât be you.
âI didnât forget. Itâs justâŠâ you tried to come up with an excuse. âItâs late, and Iâm going to bed.â
âJust lemme in, sugar.â You froze when the door handle jiggled. The unamused chuckle that followed almost made you run. âOpen the door and open them legs for me. Donât make me repeat myself.â
You backed away when the handle jiggled again, your heart leaping to your throat. âPlease, just go, or Iâll-â
âYouâll what? Call the cops? I am the law, Sugar,â he reminded you. He was right, and none of the deputies would help you. âWill you run? Hide? Go ahead! Lock your doors, change your phone number. Iâll still find you.â
You covered your mouth, but it did little to contain the scream you let out when Lee kicked the door open and stepped inside like he owned the place. You couldnât back away or run as tears spilled over. Your body knew he was going to own you before the night was over, and you couldnât fight even as your mind screamed.
âMakinâ me work for it? Not very nice, sugar,â he rumbled, strolling forward and gripping your arm.Â
âPleaseâŠâ you prayed. God wasnât listening. Not today.
âWasnât gonna use the cuffs on you âtil later,â he smirked, digging his finger in until you whimpered. âBut I guess weâll start tonight.â
Summary: Lee's plans for a quiet morning are interrupted by his girlfriend, who woke up hornier and more capricious than usual.
Tags: MDNI! +18, sexual content (if you are underage, do not interact with this work or I will block you), age difference (Lee in his forties), adult reader, porn without plot, p in v, unprotected sex (please use it), daddy kink, spanking (use of hand and belt), table sex, rough sex, dirty talk, Lee's ass fixation, creampie, no y/n, nicknames (use of slut). My native language is not English, so there may be possible mistakes (especially since my trusted translator isn't working). No corrections because it's 3 am and I'm going to schedule the publication.
Notes: I haven't posted anything in a while because I haven't managed to finish my drafts, but I finally had a burst of inspiration tonight after seeing the gif (which I found on Pinterest, by the way). I've been wanting to write something about Lee for a while now, and I finally got around to it today.
Masterlist.
The cool morning air gently caressed Lee's face as he gazed listlessly at the verdant horizon.
Sunlight filtering through the pines cast lazy patterns on the wooden planks of the porch, where he sat waiting in his rocking chair.
His mood, initially calm, was beginning to sour as he watched the sun slowly climb higher; soon, the walk to the lake would be unbearable.
The night before, just before you'd fallen asleep from the exhaustion of an intense night out, he'd told you he wanted to take you early so you could admire the view and maybe dip your feet in the water. But now it was getting late, and you still hadn't gotten up.
Minutes ticked by, and he was about to get up to go find you himself when the soft rustling of your bare feet on the wood stopped him in his tracks.
When the screen opened, I expected to see you ready, shoes dangling from your hands. Instead, you appeared disheveled, wrapped in his white sheriff's shirt, which fit you like a little dress.
"Good morning, darling." You crooned sweetly as you approached.
You settled into his lap naturally, as if it had always been your place. Your legs swung over the armrest, one arm encircling his neck and the other resting on his cheek, pulling him closer to leave a series of soft kisses on his skin.
His hands, almost instinctively, went to your waist and hips. His fingers tightened slightly against the fabric when you pressed your breasts against his, his fingers not feeling the lace of your panties beneath your shirt.
"We had plans for this morning, remember?" He murmured, with a hint of displeasure.
But you continued kissing him, tracing his cheek to his jawline, feeling the light brush of his stubble without it bothering you.
Your body moved gently against his, and your persistence finally betrayed you: you had woken up today particularly demanding of his attention.
"It doesn't matter⊠we can do it tomorrow."
And also⊠a little capricious.
He had to fix that.
Your hand gently pulled her face closer to yours, placing short, impatient kisses on his lips, which he didn't return, making you let out a soft moan.
Lee let out a low sigh, more resigned than annoyed.
The lake, the walk, the tranquility he had planned... All of that seemed to slip away with every second you tried to provoke him, to quell the hunger you'd woken up with.
"You always do the same thing, beautiful..." he murmured against your lips.
His fingers, which had been tense, finally relaxed, only to slide beneath your shirt. He squeezed the flesh of your hip before leaning his head back slightly to return your insistent kisses with that slow, sensuality you loved.
There was something about the way you settled in, the confidence with which you invaded his space, that disarmed almost any attempt to stand firm.
Almost.
Because Lee loved putting you in your place.
And you loved it when he did.
His hand on your back gathered the fabric into a fist, leaving your bottom exposed so he could caress and squeeze those perfect, tender globes of flesh.
"I should get you something shorter than my shirts..." he murmured huskily as his lips traced your jawline. "Maybe a cute apron, so I can watch that cute little bottom peek out every time you bend down to take the cookies out of the oven..."
The rocking chair creaked softly as he moved you just enough to make you feel his growing interest beneath you.
A small shiver ran down your spine as Lee's hand began to travel up your side until it reached your breasts. His thumb brushed against your nipple with deliberate pressure, and you let out a longing sigh.
"Damn, look at you," he whispered, his voice husky, deep with desire. "This little slut barely woke up and she's already craving Daddy's attention."
He caressed your entire chest. Calluses dug into your sensitive skin in a way that made you arch at his touch as your folds moistened.
Lee unbuttoned your shirt just enough to expose your breasts to the morning air, and his mouth latched onto them in a dirty, open suction, a suction that made you moan with delight at the attention you were receiving. Lee only pulled back to see it glisten with the smear of his saliva.
His hand moved back down to grasp your ass, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh as his hips moved up, rubbing his erection against you.
"You're a tease."
His breath hit your ear before his teeth caught your lobe, tugging playfully as his palm slapped your ass. The high-pitched sound echoed through the trees, accompanied by your squeal.
"Daddy likes to spank me..." you whispered, already incredibly aroused by the heat on your buttocks.
Lee's laughter was rough with excitement.
"Of course he does," he growled, delivering another hard slap that made you shudder against him. "A cute little ass, all red and marked, just for me... Fucking perfect."
"D-Daddy..." you squealed as his hand slapped harder, making your hips clench against his.
Your buttocks were painted a soft pink, the outline of his fingers imprinted on your skin, and a heat that only made you crave more, your pussy a testament to that.
âIâm going to drag you back inside,â he promised in his dark voice. âDaddy will show you what real spanking feels like when I have you bent over the table.â
His palm landed again, stinging more this time. Your gasp in response made his cock twitch beneath you, straining against the denim.
The rocking chair protested violently as he suddenly stood up, pinning your legs beneath your knees and placing his other hand on your back, while your arms clung to his neck.
You desperately sought his lips, kissing him with need and passion, feeling his tongue slip into your mouth as he managed to open the screen door and enter the cabin to take you where he promised.
You moaned in protest as Lee broke the kiss so he could release your legs and force you to let go. With his hands on your hips, he turned you around, bending you over the wooden dining table, your ass at his mercy.
His hands caressed your hot cheeks, pushing your shirt higher up your waist.
Lee's breath was ragged as he yanked off his belt. The leather slid through the denim belt loops with a hiss that made your thighs tremble.
"Look at you..." He growled. His free hand smoothed the hot curve of your ass. "All pretty and pink, begging for more..."
The first slash of the belt landed with a crunch that made you jump up on your tiptoes. Your answering cry echoed off the cabin walls as your fingers gripped the edges of the table.
"D-Daddy!"
"Harder," he demanded as his boot pushed against your foot, spreading your legs wider. "I want more of those sweet little sounds."
He dragged the cold leather between your legs, spreading your moisture across the material and making you moan for the brief attention where you needed it most.
Another lash, this one lower, right where your ass met your thigh, made your back arch wildly and your pussy drip even more. Your eyes soon watered from the pleasurable pain that was starting to turn your ass red.
The belt whistled through the air again, followed by another crack accompanied by your whimpers.
"You love that, huh?" His hand reached possessively over where the leather had kissed your skin. "You're all wet like the little slut you are," he growled.
His thumb slid between your folds, collecting some of your lubrication, and then two fingers went separately to your clitoris, rubbing it just enough to make you sob. But then he pulled his hand away again.
The next lash was deliberately harder, enough to make you jerk your hips forward and your pussy rub against the cold wood.
"Daddy... I-I need you so much, Daddy..." you moaned through tears. "I'll be a good girl and take what you give me."
Each strike of the belt against your sensitive skin made you sob and writhe against the table, finding pleasure in rubbing your swollen clitoris against the edge.
Lee's own hips jerked involuntarily as he watched you rub against him, staining the table with your aroused fluids. Your young, sweet, and angelic appearance contrasted sharply with the needy and desperate girl you truly were.
You were the dirtiest and most exciting image he had ever seen in his entire life.
It only took a few taps of the belt and the intense thrusts of your hips for you to gasp and moan your orgasm. A sharp, short one, leaving you not entirely satisfied.
His breath caught in his throat as your thighs trembled, and he dropped the belt to the floor.
"Ruined by just Daddy's belt marks on this gorgeous ass," he hissed, gripping your hips tightly.
One of his hands slid through the mess between your legs, collecting your lubrication before sliding two fingers inside without warning.
Your walls tightened around him instantly, and the moment his fingers curled, pressing and massaging exactly where they needed to, you arched your back against the table and sobbed with delight as your legs twisted.
His fingers withdrew, and before you could complain, the metallic click of your zipper being lowered kept you silent and eager.
Lee barely lowered his clothes enough for his cock to spring free, followed by the wet thud of his bare skin hitting your wet folds.
"Stay put," he ordered, his voice tense, as he guided himself to your hypersensitive entrance. "I'm going to give you what that greedy cunt has been asking for."
With a brutal thrust, he enveloped himself, up to the hilt, in your hot, dripping cunt. His groan joined your shattered sob as your walls contracted around him.
"Fuck! That's right... Squeeze me that hard."
His hips moved forward, pressing you harder against the table.
"Oh, God!" you moaned, trembling and tearful. "Y-You always fill me up so good, Daddy!"
Your hands went to your buttocks, which were hot and red from the previous rough treatment, to spread them apart and let him fill you completely with each violent thrust.
"Mine," he growled as his hand went to the back of your neck to keep you pressed against the wood.
The smacking of skin against skin muffled your moans as he thrust roughly, seeking his own orgasm. His grunts were harsh and heart-rending.
Lee realized you were close to orgasm because of the way your pussy was sucking him in harder and your moans and whimpers were higher than before because of the heat and tingling that swirled in your belly. He redoubled his efforts, further abusing your delicate pussy.
"S-Shit, baby." He groaned breathlessly. âIâm going to fill you up, youâre going to drip so much.â
His rhythm faltered, then stopped; his release flooded you with a groan that vibrated through your spine as you reached an overwhelming orgasm that left you breathless and weak.
The cabin fell silent, except for your shared gasps; he released the back of your neck and his forehead fell between your shoulder blades as he caught his breath.
Summary - Bucky has learned some fun facts about cats and decides to tell you at the most random times.
Warnings - None. Just pure fluff.
Word Count - 996
You can remember exactly when the info dumping began. You were sat on the couch enjoying your book when Bucky walked in from the kitchen and flopped down next to you.
"Did you know cats have 230 bones, while humans only have 206?" He said as he brushed his hand through his hair.
"Oh really." You asked, placing your book on your lap.
"Yeah, interesting huh?" Bucky smiled as he placed an arm around you and pressed a kiss to your head.
"Yeah pretty cool." You smiled back before settling against him.
And so it began. Bucky's random facts would be shared at every opportunity no matter how bizarre the situation.
You were in the shower, lathering shampoo into your scalp when you heard the bathroom door creak open and footsteps on the tiles.
"Hey babe?" Bucky called out to you.
"Yeah Buck?" You replied, pulling the shower curtain to the side so you could peer round to see what he wanted.Â
"Did you know cats have up to 100 different vocalizations but dogs only have 10." He smiled as he leant against the counter.
"Really buck I'm trying to shower." You laughed.
"Sorry baby I get excited." He said shyly, rubbing his palm across his stubbled chin.
"I know you do, you adorable man." You grinned at him before slipping back under the water.
You were laying in bed one night on your side. Bucky's body was snug behind you, his arm slung over your waist as he held you nuzzling his nose into you hair.
"Did you know cats find it threatening when you make direct eye contact with them?" He suddenly mumbled in a sleepy voice.
"Sounds like someone else I know." You teased.
"Hey." He grumbled against your skull.
"Am I lying?" You smiled.
"No but it's not the point." He grunted and tightened his arm around your stomach.
"Go to sleep Buck." You smiled before closing your eyes.
"Behind you." You grunted as you punched another assailant to the ground.
Bucky swung at the man in front of him before spinning and taking down the man behind him with ease.
"Fuck." You panted as you tried to catch your breath, bodies littering the ground around you both.
"Hey babe, did you know cats developed meowing exclusively to communicate with people?" Bucky smiled, as he wiped the blood from his knuckles with a cloth he'd pulled from his pocket.
"Not the time Buck." You laughed slapping his shoulder.
"Baby, there's always time." He grinned back.
You rolled your eyes and smiled widely before continuing the mission.
You were cooking dinner at the stove, wooden spoon in hand when Bucky walked in.
"Baby." Bucky spoke and you jumped in your spot.
"Jesus Buck. You scared me." You squeaked, placing a hand over your heart.
"Did you know cats have contributed to the extinction of 33 different species?" He said with an eyebrow raised as he sidled up next to you and placed a palm on your ass cheek.
"That's actually pretty terrifying." You panted as you returned to your cooking.
"It's incredible." Bucky scoffed, swatting your ass playfully.
"Incredible and terrifying." You argued, glaring at him over your shoulder.
"They could rule the world." He muttered placing his head on your shoulder.
"If only they had thumbs." You teased.
You were sat in a debrief meeting with the team, flicking a pen between your fingers and pressing your lips together as the boredom took over.
Bucky leant over to you from where he sat at your right, leveling his lips with your ear.
"Did you know cats can't climb down trees head first because of the shape of their claws? They have to go down backwards." He whispered.
You rose your eyebrow at him and stilled your fidgeting hands.
"Where are you storing all these?" You asked playfully, trying to keep your voice low.
"Right here baby." He smirked, tapping his finger against his forehead.
"Can you guys concentrate?" Steve suddenly scolded pulling your attention back to him.
"Sorry cap." You said sheepishly, sinking back into your seat.
"Sorry Steve." Bucky said with a small smile on his lips.
You were sitting on the sofa, gently stroking the little white fur ball in your lap when Bucky walked through the front door.
"Babe did you know..." He began before his eyes met the scene in front of him, widening as they did.
"What is that?" He asked in surprise, pointing at the sweet little baby in your lap.
"This little girl, is Alpine." You said with a smirk as Bucky began to slowly cross the space.
"Is she? Where did? Who's kitten is this?" He stuttered out.
"She's yours." You smiled.
"She's mine?" He breathed excitedly.
"Yeah baby." You grinned, patting the space next to you.
"You got me a cat." Bucky muttered in disbelief as he took his place next to you.
"I did." You smiled once more.
"Oh my god. She's so small." He coo'd as he watched her.
"Here." You said, gently cradling the kitten and passing her over to your hulk of a boyfriend.
He took her from you carefully, treating her gently like the precious little gem she was.
"Hey Alpine." He whispered as he cradled her against the top of his chest.
"Do you like her?" You sighed happily as you lent back to watch him.
"Baby I love her, I love you, thank you." He smiled widely.
Alpine stretched her little legs and placed a small white paw on Bucky's chin, making his eyes widen as he looked down at her in aww.
"Did you know," You said softly, "Cats show affection by putting their paw on your face. That means she likes you."
"Really?" Bucky asked, glancing at you with a twinkle in his eye.
"Yeah she knows who her daddy is." You smiled.
"You hear that Alpine." Bucky whispered with a soft affection, "I'm your daddy. I'm gonna take such good care of you."
You fell through time by accident â and now you're stuck in 1943, watching Bucky Barnes charm every woman in the room but you. So you start to wonder: did the man you left behind ever really want you, or just keep what was convenient? He's about to answer that. He just doesn't know it yet.
ââ Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x nurse!Reader and present!Bucky Barnes x scientist!reader
ââ Word count: 2.5K
ââ Warnings: angst, because I don't feel well and this is how my brain works when I'm sick.
The small dance hall in Brooklyn smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, and you had been standing against the back wall for the better part of an hour, watching the man you loved fall in love with everyone but you.
Not that he knew you. That was the cruel logic of it all. To Sergeant James Barnes, you were nobody. Nothing but a nurse he'd been introduced to twice, and forgotten both times. A face in a crowd of pretty faces, but by no means the prettiest.
You had stopped being able to feel your own face somewhere around the third song, no longer pretending to smile.
"You gonna dance, or you gonna be a wallflower all night?"
You turned. One of the girlsâ Doris, or maybe it it was Lilian, you weren't paying attentionâ was smiling at you with the social grace that women in this time seemed to possess effortlessly. They belonged in a way you never would. You gave her something that was probably a smile.
"I'm alright watching."
"Watching him, you mean." She followed your gaze to where Bucky stood in his dress uniform, left arm braced against a pillar as he leaned down to murmur something into the ear of a redhead who laughed like he'd hung the moon. "Half the room's watching him. Don't feel bad, sweets. He's real generous with the old charm."
Generous! You laughed to yourself, that was certainly one word for it.
You'd been in 1943 for eleven days. Eleven days since the machine in your lab had done whatever it was that it did. There had been a surge of power, a blinding flash of light and the smell of ozone that still hadn't left your nostrils. You had woken up staring at a strange sky, in an alley between two buildings you didn't recognize.
Eleven days later, you had talked your way into a nursing post with the competence that only came with training from a program that wouldn't exist for another sixty years.
The first time you had seen him, you hadn't been able to move. You almost walked past without a backward glance. The thing that had gotten your attention wasn't how he looked, it was his voice. It hadn't changed. What had changed was how freely he laughed
It was all you could think of as you lay on a narrow rented bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking: He's here. He's alive and whole and here, and he has no idea who I am.
You'd thought seeing this version of him would be a comfort.
You'd been so stupid.
So there you were, contemplating your existence, a woman out of your own time. And you realized that the thing nobody told you about time travel was that it was mostly waiting.
You had managed to track down a physicistâ a nervous, but brilliant scientist who was well ahead of his time and happened to work for Stark Industries and liked to carry out experiments in his basement.
When you'd described the machine, he had gone very pale and very quiet and then become very interested. He offered to help you. He thought it would take weeks. He speculated a great many things, and every one of them required you to stay close to the war effort, close to the base, closeâ by fate or by accidentâ to Bucky-freaking-Barnes.
You should have quit, but you needed the money and a place to stay. So you saw him. Constantly. At the mess, in the corridors, at these godforsaken dances the other nurses dragged you to. And every time, the same knife went in.
Because Bucky Barnes flirted with everyone.
You watched him do it like a case study you had a vested interest in. In a way, you did.
He flirted with Lilian and Doris and Elizabeth, with Marian and Margaret and even Sandy. He flirted with the girl who sold cigarettes and the middle-aged woman who ran your boarding house who flushed like a school girl every time he tipped his cap.
He flirted with the same energy that other men breathedâ unconsciously, effortlessly and with enthusiasm. With the whole world except you.
With you he was polite. God, the politeness was utterly devastating. Every 'ma'am.' Every 'miss.' Every nod.
Onceâ and only onceâ he caught you looking at him for too long across the mess hall and you had noticed a flicker on his face. It wasn't interest, no you knew his expressions well enough, it was something closer to confusion. Almost as though he couldn't quite figure out why this particular nurse kept staring at him like she was drowning.
You'd looked away so fast you'd spilled your coffee.
So here's the thing you could quite wrap your head around. It was the splinter which kept digging it's way deeper. He was still Bucky. Before the fall. Before seventy years of ice and torture. Before his free will had been ripped away. It was still him. The same kind man you loved.
And this man had looked at you and felt nothing.
"You look like you're thinking too hard," Lillian said. "Never a good idea at a dance."
"Sorry." You forced a smile and made yourself relax. "Long shift," you lied with a shrug.
She patted your arm sympathetically and drifted off in the direction of a corporal who had been eyeing her from across the hall. And then you were alone. Again. Listening to Bucky laughing at something across the room, his eyes crinkled and nose scrunched. You had to close your eyes.
In the present, you told yourself, he loves you.
But did he?
This thought was the poison of the past, the reason the past eleven days had hollowed you out and given you reason to doubt. Because you'd met your Bucky broken. You'd met him afterâ after the Soldier, after the torture, after the long slow work he had done to put himself back together, with therapy and effort and the kind of hard-won stillness that made his rare smiles feel earned. Your Bucky was quiet. He was careful. He loved you the way a man loves the shore after a shipwreckâ grateful, fierce, like something he'd been afraid to hope for.
When you thought back, this stillness had always felt like the depth in your relationship. That his quiet devotion was the shape of a man who had survived far too much to be careless with his heart. That when he reached for you in the dark, when he said your name with reverence, when he told you that he loved you, it was the truest thing in him.
Only now you'd seen the before.
Now you'd seen who he was when the world hadn't broken him yet.
And that manâ that carefree, radiant, flirtatious manâ he wouldn't have looked at you twice. That man had a type, and you were watching him charm her across the dance floor right now, and it most decidedly wasn't you. It was never you.
So what did that make what you had back home?
It was the ugly thought. The one that had been circling your brain in different iterations for the last eleven days.
He's with you because you were there.
Because you'd been kind to him at the worst point of his life.
Because you were willing, and steady, and you'd stayed when staying was hard.
Because a drowning man doesn't check whether the hand pulling him up is the one he'd have chosen.
He grabs what's offered.
You were what was offered. Convenient. Present. Undemanding.
Not chosen. Settled.
You believed it completely, while standing in that dance hall. It sank deep into your bones, like the weight of something you'd always half-known and finally let yourself see.
"You're that nurse."
You startled so badly at his voice that you knocked your purse off the table. Bucky was standing in front of youâ right in front of you, close enough that you could smell the pomade and the wool of his uniform. And he was looking at you with that faint, puzzled crease between his brows. He bent down and retrieved your purse without a second thought.
"Iâ yeah. Sorry. Yes. I'm a nurse."
Brilliant. Very cool. Totally nailed that response. You mentally face palmed yourself.
"You keep looking at me." He said it plainly, without judgement. "All week. At the mess, and now here." He paused, studying your face. "Do I know you? From somewhere? I feel like I oughta, and it's drivin' me half crazy tryna figure it out."
You don't know me yet, was the thought didn't say. You won't know me for another eighty years.
"No," you managed in a flat tone. "You don't know me."
He studied you. And for one horrible, hopeful second you let yourself imagine that something would spark between you. That he would recognize something buried deep inside himself, the one who would one day become the man you loved. That he'd feel it, the way you felt it. The impossible gravity that existed between you.
He didn't. You watched him not feel it. He just gave you a small, courteous, sorry-can't-place-you smile and the last shred of hope shattered in it chest.
"Well," he said. "You alright? You look a littleâ" he gestured vaguely at all of you, "âpale. Rough night on the ward?"
You laughed dismally. "Something like that."
"You want some air? You look like you want some air."
And there it was. Not attraction. Kindness. The reflexive decency of a good man toward a woman who looked unwell. He'd have offered the same to Doris or Evelyn, to the redhead or the blonde, to anyone really. You knew it, and you took it anyway, because you were weak and you loved him and this was the closest he'd stood to you in eleven days.
Outside, the night was cold and wet and smelled of the harbor. Bucky lit a cigarette, offered you one, seemed unsurprised when you shook your head. For a while neither of you said anything.
"You got somebody?" he asked finally, and your heart lurched dangerously. "Back home, I mean. You got that look. Like half of you is somewhere else."
You laughed and it came out wrecked.
"Yeah," you said. "I've got somebody."
"He treat you right?"
He loves me like a man loves the thing that saved him, you thought. And I don't know anymore if that's the same as loving me for me.
"I don't know," you said honestly. "I used to think so. Now I'm not sure he'd have picked me. If things had been different. If he'd had⊠options. I think maybe I was just⊠the one who was there."
Bucky was quiet a moment. When you looked at him he was frowningâ not the usual puzzled frown, it was something more thoughtful.
"That's a helluva thing to carry," he said. "You wanna know what I think?"
He looked at you, barely waiting for you to answer before he continued.
"I flirt with every dame in that room. You've seen me, don't pretend you haven't." He gave you a rueful half-smile. "It's easy. Don't cost me a thing. You smile, they smile, everybody has a nice night, nobody gets hurt. It'sâ" he searched for the right word, "âit's cheap. You understand? It's the cheapest thing I got."
You stared at him.
"You know what's not cheap?" he went on, looking out into the night. "The stuff that costs you somethingâ and that's not the girl you charm across a dance hall. That's the one you'd still want around when there's nothing charming left in you. When you're scared, or sick, or done things you can't take back."
He exhaled smoke. "A fella who's had it easy, he'll flirt with anybody. Don't mean anything. But a fella who's been through the wringer, and he still reaches for one particular personâ" he shrugged, "âseems to me that's the only kind that counts. The rest's just⊠noise."
You couldn't breathe.
He didn't know how deeply what he'd said had resonated with you. He couldn't have. He was just a kind man being kind to a sad woman outside a dance hall, offering the accidental wisdom of someone who'd one day live every word of it. But he'd reached across eighty years and removed the splinter from your heart.
A fella who's been through the wringer, and he still reaches for one particular person.
That was your Bucky. Not a drowning man grabbing for the nearest hand. A man who had been through the absolute worst the world could do. A man who had every reason to be closed and cold and careful with the little warmth he had left. And instead who spent it, deliberately, expensively, on you.
Not because you were convenient. Because when everything cheap had been burned out of him, you were what remained. You were the thing that counted.
The flirtation you'd been grieving wasn't the love you knew. It never had been. It was the noise. And your Bucky had gone silent with everyone else in the world and still turned, in the dark, toward you.
"Thank you," you whispered.
Bucky looked faintly bewildered. "For what? I didn't do anything."
"You'd be surprised," you said, tears slipping down your cheeks before laughing at the way he was hastily patting his pockets for a handkerchief with the flustered gallantry of a man way out of his depth
And for the first time in eleven days the ache in your chest had somewhere to go.
The scientist sent for you nine days later. You had pulled yourself away from the pub, one last glance at the Sergeant before you scurried away under the cover of darkness.
The machine hummed and the basement reeked of ozone. Suddenly your heart was pounding and you were looking back at the strange world you were leaving. At the war that hadn't broken him fully yet. At the still charming boy who would become, through unspeakable years, the quiet man who loved you.
I'm coming home baby, you told him, across the space-time continuum. I finally understand what I'm coming home to.
With that vow, you stepped into the light.
When you opened your eyes it was day and you were back in your lab, surrounded by your things and thereâ there was already someone crossing the room toward you at a dead run. Someone with a metal arm and a face raw with grief and terror that lasted twenty days. Someone who caught you and held you like the shore holds the shipwreck.
"You're back," Bucky said into your hair, over and over, wrecked and reaching only for you. "You're back, you're back, you're back."
"I'm back," you said. "I know exactly where I am."
AN: roughly written & not betaâd. Also for @storiesofsvu bingo with the line: âCâmere, let me hold you.â
AN2: updated 7/22/26 removing use of Y/N.
Summary: You & Bucky spend the day at Coney Island. Super fluff + spice.
Coney Island had undergone many iterations since it started in 1829. It was still just as much a weekend escape for the working class now as it was back in the day. Three subway lines converged at the ocean, and you were on one of them, accompanied by a man who knew of Coney Island long before you did.
Thatâs what happened when your boyfriend was a centenarian.
The train roared and squealed as it made its way towards the south of Brooklyn. It was packed, with the majority excitedly heading to the beach, as it was the first day open to swimmers. You leaned your head on Buckyâs shoulder, and he wrapped his vibranium arm around you. No one batted an eye at the metal arm. Androids, aliens and wizards - the big three - were widely accepted so long as the universe didnât implode.
The subway screeched to a stop, the conductor making a very muffled announcement of its arrival at Coney Island. The throngs of people made their way out and you and Bucky waited until the majorly had cleared before departing yourselves. You were two steps ahead of Bucky, making way towards the stairs when you realized he wasnât behind you. You turned and watched as Bucky took a deep inhalation of the air, thick with the smell of sugary sweet, fried confections mixed with saltwater.
Bucky opened his eyes and met yours. âJust thinking about the last time I was here,â he shouted over the roar of an incoming train.
âCome on,â you shouted as you walked back and reached for him. âWeâre going to have a great time,â you continued as you playfully pulled him forward.
Your day date with Bucky also became a history lesson as he pointed out dramatic changes over the years from fires, rebuilds, and new parks that opened and closed over the years.
The day flew by as the two of you played various arcade games (no surprise Bucky won you the biggest teddy bear there was), ate obscene amounts of funnel cake and cotton candy, and rode the Cyclone too many times to count. You doubled over in laughter as Bucky recounted how Steve puked after riding the Cyclone.
âHe still never lets me forget it,â Bucky chuckled.
After, it was time to hit the beach. Coney Island offered three miles of sand, sun, and rolling waves.
You slipped off your shorts first, revealing your suit bottoms. Buckyâs mouth actually dropped ever so slightly as you pulled your t-shirt over your head. You wore a red checked halter one piece that made you look as if you strutted out of the 1940s itself and not the 21st century.
âDo you like it?â you asked, almost shyly, giving him a small twirl.
Bucky nodded, rubbing his bearded jaw. âYou look phenomenal.â
You lean up and forward, kissing him, your nose bumping against his slightly. Bucky holds you close with his non-vibranium arm. His lips are plush and soft against yours. He kisses you back, sliding his tongue into your mouth.
The sound of a sharp whistle interrupts the kiss and you duck your head into Buckyâs neck, feeling your cheeks heat assuming you both caught the attention of some onlookers. Bucky whipped his head towards the sound - it was a lifeguard telling some swimmers to come in.
Eventually the sun began to settle into the horizon, making way for a cooler evening. Still, the atmosphere was lively and just as crowded as it was earlier.
The final ride was the Wonder Wheel, a behemoth of a Ferris wheel. Buckyâs hand landed on your thigh and he traced small concentric circles on your bare skin. The action caused you to shiver, a jolt of heat shooting to your core. The ride jolted slightly and Bucky explained how it was just the ride pausing to let others on. The wind blew slightly and you shivered.
âCâmere, let me hold you,âBucky replied.
You snuggled close up to Bucky, taking the expansive view of the entire park and ocean.
The park eventually closed for the night and the last of the visitors left. You and Bucky were such a pair and you held his hand as you both made your way out.
âThanks for the best day,â you remarked. You turned back towards the park, an almost wistful look on your face. Bucky turned to face you and he captured your lips in a small kiss.
âYou know, it doesnât need to end.â
You looked at Bucky curiously. âWhat do you mean?â
Bucky jutted his head towards the direction of the beach. âWant to go on a late night stroll?â
You squint at him. âWhat are you up to?â
Bucky glances down at you. âCan't I just wanna spend some time with my favorite girl before the night is over?â
"Usually you have ulterior motives, James."
Bucky glowered at you before signing in defeat. "I - Fair."
**
The moon was bright in the night sky and the waves crashed along the shore. Bucky made a mad dash to the water, the sand squishing beneath his feet. He ran in until he was waist deep.
âGet in, the water is amazing!â
âIâm not getting in!â you called out in return.
Approaching you, Bucky grabbed you and spun you into the water, which resulted in you letting out a shriek. He let out a laugh before he set you down. You playfully shoved him away. You then jumped into his arms, him grabbing and holding you by your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.
Eventually you both made it back to the sand. You sat in between Buckyâs legs, your back to his chest.
âThis is nice,â you murmur. When you move your head to glance back at him, Bucky adjusted your position so that you were on his lap.
Buckyâs gaze fell to your lips and within a second his lips were pressed against yours. His fingers curled around your waist, the tips of his fingers rubbing tiny concentric circles against your skin as he pulled you closer.
Your fingers gripped a fistful of his dark, wet, hair â tugging sharply on it as you kissed him back. Bucky kissed you hard enough to leave your lips bruised tomorrow. As he licked hotly into your mouth, you tasted the salt from the ocean water.
Bucky gently pushed you downwards so you were laying down on the sand. He used his knee to nudge your legs apart as he covered your body with his.
He got his shirt off first, followed by your top off. You grasped his head between your hands, steered his mouth towards your tits. He latched his mouth on your nipple, already hard from the wet swimsuit. Bucky grazed his teeth along your sensitive buds before laving them with his tongue.
You clung to Bucky, desperate. He noted how your legs wrapped around his hips, how your hands felt on him, running over his shoulders and back.
Bucky kissed down between your breasts and down the length of your body. You spread your legs a bit when he got to the apex of your thighs. Your skin was cool and clammy under the ocean breeze. But it wasnât that at all that was causing you to tremble.
He pulled your bottoms off, sodden with salt water. His hand found your pussy and he cupped it, feeling the heat and slickness of your desire. His cock was achingly hard, pressed against the damp material of his swim trunks. He spread your legs apart and settled between.
Buckyâs breath was hot on your pussy and he inhaled your sweet, musky scent before diving into your folds. His tongue was warm and wet; you threw your head back as he licked a broad stripe along your folds from top to bottom before returning to settle on your clit. His tongue was firm, using the tip to flick against it. The roar of the ocean drowned out the sounds of your gasps and moans. The coarse sand on your ass was irritating to your skin but you paid no mind to it as pleasure coursed your body.
Bucky took to task on your pussy, working you with a combination of his fingers and tongue. He pushed the warm, wet muscle inside and you arched your back in response.
âSomeone is going to catch us,â you choked out, feeling your orgasm begin to crest.
âNo one is going to sweetheart. Itâs dark and weâre under the pier,â Bucky murmured before delving back to your pussy. The feel of his beard on your sensitive skin only ramped up the pleasure you were feeling. Your hand found its way to the top of his head and you gripped his hair tightly. âJust like that - oh fuck, yes Buck, just like that!â
And then youâre coming - white hot and electric, your body tightening and then snapping in release. Sound went fuzzy and you squeezed your eyes tightly. Bucky continued to languidly eat you out as your orgasm rode out.
You watched with half lidded eyes as Bucky stood above you, pushing down his own swim trunks, revealing his aching, weeping cock. You bit your lip and beckoned him with a crook of your finger.
Bucky dropped to his knees and gave his cock a pump before covering your body. You felt his cock at your entrance, the fat blunt head ready. He rubbed his cock along your slit, gathering your wetness. You were hot, wet, and ready.
âBucky, please.â
Bucky smirked and then acquiesced to your request.
Bucky pushed the head of his cock inside you and then pushed into you agonizingly slowly. You whimpered as he finally sank his length into you, bottoming out. Your eyes fluttered close as you adjusted to his size, a mix of pleasure and slight burn as he stretched you. You grasped at his back, your nails pressing half-moon marks into his skin. Bucky pulled out again and then thrust back in, harder than before. You let out an obscene moan in response.
Bucky picked up the pace, pushing into you over and over. He hooked your leg and pushed it up to your chest, changing the angle as his cock stroked your walls. âYou feel so tight around my cock, sweetheart.â He grunted.
âGive it to me, give it to me, I need it.â You whined. Bucky reached for your arm with his vibranium one and pulled it over your head, gripping it tightly.
Bucky lowered his head down, pressing his forehead against yours. Your bodies are slick with sweat and beads of sweat roll off Bucky onto yours.
Bucky continued fucking you deeply, sliding into you over and over in deep, long strokes. As he felt his own release approach, Bucky moved his lips to your neck and sucked a mark onto your skin. You chant his name - his real name - over and over again, feeling your own orgasm approach. You snake your hand down and begin to rub your clit.
âIâm going to come, oh shit, oh shit, James!â You come completely undone, wailing his name.
âCome for me doll, fuck, âm gonna come too,â Bucky groaned. Feeling your walls flutter around his cock, seeing your wrecked face - it was all too much for Bucky and with a strangled cry of your name, he stiffened and painted your walls with his release.
The two of you come to a still, your breaths both uneven. Neither one of you spoke for a bit âthe only sound was rough-breathing and the roars of the ocean crashing.
Water began to lap at you and Bucky and you both realized the tide was coming in. You both redress quickly and the walk back to the subway is punctuated with playful kisses and touches.
As the subway approached, you looked over at Bucky. âCouldnât have been a better day.â
Bucky pulled you into his chest and hummed. âAnything for my girl.â
All my stories are R18. IÂ write smut, and I may touch sensitive topics or topics that are not intended to be read by minors.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN CONTENT CONSUMPTIONS.
Masterlist | DMDR Event Masterlist
Prompt: "Wait, it's Valentine's Day today?!"
Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!F!Reader
Warning/Tags: Misunderstanding, miscommunication, reader and bucky are just silly and dumb, fluff and just a tiny tiny bit of angst.
Word Count: ~4.1k
Summary: From the first time Bucky sees you he realize you're something different, but maybe eavesdropping is not his best ally at the moment. Now he has to remind himself not everyone is an enemy.
Author's Note: This is my fic on the event "Dear My Darling Reader" which was hosted by @salty-tang. A beautiful experience and a really beautiful way to meet new people!
If this is the first time you've read me, I'd love for you to read this post.
Another Fic For Ellie!
Working in The Stark Tower was something exciting, to say the least. One day you would see Captain America walking around, and the very next minute you could see a S.H.I.E.L.D team walking with something as dangerous as The Tesseractâso you were used to not having a normal day.Â
Nonetheless, Bucky Barnes, HYDRAâs former assassin appearing on the compound was something newâsomething unexpected. You knew the stories behind him and Howardâs death, you knew from firsthand how that had ended, and how much Tony struggled to trust people after going through the whole ordeal.Â
âHow did that happen?â You asked Hill, who was walking with a tablet in her hand.
âWellâat the end Tony understood none of that was Barnesâ decision.âÂ
âIs he going to live here?âÂ
âI think Tony wants to have an eye on himâItâs better for everyone.âÂ
Seeing him there felt different. A kind of redemption for him, something you never thought of seeing with your own eyes.
Weeks passed and you started to see how he interacted with his surroundingsâhe was careful, trying to not attract attention to himself, always alone in the kitchen, training at late hours, walking around when he thought no one was watching over him.Â
However, you were paying attention. You were always looking in his directionânot in a predatory way, but curiosity got hold of you.
And finally, you got the courage enough to sit in front of him, you didnât make a fuss out of it, he was in the kitchen bar eating cereal very early in the morningâTony was not in town so you had plenty of free time âtill he got back.Â
Bucky sat still for a second, he wanted to leave, except with all the activities the doctor had been putting him through this was the only free time he had for himself. He sighed and didnât even look up at you.Â
He really expected this was a oneâtime situation. He was not used to sharing his time, nor his space with anyone elseâmaybe Steve, sometimes Sam or Nat, and that was it. He didnât want more people involved in whatever was going on with him.Â
But by the third time you sat in front of him, he decided he would have to deal with it, he just accepted your presence there, and you didnât push further. You just sat there, ate, waited if you finished before him, and then left when he stood up. Not more, not less. You knew he was dealing with a lot of things, and you didnât want to make him feel pressured.Â
Until one day, you arrived earlier than him, but you had a very busy day waiting for you, so you just went and left a chocolate bar you had bought earlier for him. You left it on his usual spot with a note. âBucky Barnes.â
He was not expecting to not see you there, something inside of him felt half relieved, half confusedâand he felt even more confused when he saw a chocolate bar with his name on it. He stared at it as if it were a puzzle.Â
He left it on his side while he ate, he didnât circle around it too much, maybe you were being nice because you were asked to do it. Maybe you were a kind of handler or guard Tony had set for him. Not his worst idea, to be fair.Â
While he was eating, Steve arrived and sat in front of him. At first he didnât notice the chocolate sitting thereâbut when he saw it an eyebrow raised.
âDidnât know you ate chocolate.â Bucky sighed, âOh! It was Tonyâs assistant?âÂ
âHowâhow do you know about her?âÂ
âBuck, the whole Tower has seen how you two eat breakfast together daily.âÂ
âI donât eat breakfast with her, she sits here and Iâm here too.âÂ
âFine, but you could have a nice gesture back and give her something.â
âIâm not doing that.âÂ
You continued your routine with himâor by his side. You never said anything at the beginning, but with the weeks you started to give him a casual âGood Morningâ, and you would even start to say goodbye when you both were heading out. Â
The first time you greeted him he just mumbled something through his teeth, you accepted it as a greeting back. And the following days his mumbling became a murmur, to a low âmorningâ.
You werenât even expecting more than thatâyou were accepting what was given.Â
But, one morning, he was not there. You could see his bowl cleaned and drying on the sink. You didnât want to admit it fully, but his company made your mornings somehow better. When you sat on the stool, a chocolate bar sat in front of you. Your name written on a sticky note.Â
You smiled wide, as wide as your cheeks let you do it.Â
He didnât even realize when he did it. He was on the corner bodega when he bought a family pack chocolate bag, he saw you eating one of those just a day or two earlier. And then, he asked one of the doctors for a bunch of sticky notes and a pen.Â
And as if the planets had aligned to act on it, the very next day Steve called him on a mission, something fast, nothing that would last more than a day, but something that would make him not have breakfast with you.
After eating breakfast, and when Steve was not in the kitchen, he left the chocolate with the sticky note on the table. He felt like a childâlike a teenager. Godâs sake. He was a hundred year old man leaving chocolates to a woman he hadnât even spoken more than fifty words to.Â
By that moment, that became a routine, something yours, every time one of you wasnât able to be at breakfast, you would leave a chocolate bar, sometimes with your names written on there, sometimes just the bar, but even with that interaction, words were not spokenâhe didnât dare to say anything, and you were too afraid to ruin the moment.Â
One late night you were working with Hill with a protocol, nothing scandalous. She was yapping about a date she was having next week.Â
âSo, you donât have anything going on?â You shook your head, your eyes still focused on the tablet in front of you.Â
âIâm pretty busy with this shit here.â You mumbled while pointing to the artefact.Â
âOh, câmon!âÂ
âWhat? Itâs a pretty tough thingâI have to spend all my morning sat there working with it, I need all my focus on itâŠâÂ
For your misfortuneâBucky was just about to come into the lab when he heard you saying that. He really thought you were talking about him. And deep down he knew. You couldnât be such a nice person to him just becauseâyou were just an assigned handler.Â
He stepped back and went directly to the compoundâs gym. Steve was there training. Buckysâ chest heaved with anger, he could not believe he really thought you could just be nice to him.Â
âDid you know?â He asked stumping inside.
ââBout what?â Steve stopped the punching bag.Â
âYou know about what! Sheâs not only Tonyâs assistant, right? Sheâs my fucking handler!âÂ
Steveâs eyes were wide open, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of the water.Â
âLookâTony did try to set a guard for you, but I stopped him, and you can bet a tiny small girl is not your handler! What are you on?â
âSo, why is she saying she has to deal with a tough task all morning?â Bucky chuckled almost in a cynical way.
âWellâbecause sheâs a genius, sheâs working with a protocol for S.H.I.E.L.D.â Steve sighed, âI know you have trust issues, and I know it is a long road, but can you accept sheâs just being nice to you?âÂ
âFuck off.â Bucky said, leaving the gym, Steveâs brows furrowed.Â
He was really trying to help his friends, but he also understood how deep the cut was and how difficult it was going to be to make him trust again.Â
After that day he became colderâhe never again answered your greetings, even when you tried harder, something felt as if you had done something wrong, even when you left chocolates there if you werenât going to eatâthe chocolate remained untouched by evening.
âI know we are not exactly even acquaintances, butâdid I do something wrong?â You finally asked one day.Â
He didnât even look at your way. You sighed and stood up, even you knew better than to push someone who clearly didnât want you there. Since that stunt, you stopped eating with him, you just went, took anything you needed from the kitchen and walked away. Every time Bucky just saw you from behind his bowl and said nothing.Â
Right there, he realized how full of shit he was. He felt guilty, for the first time someone who owed him nothing was kind to him, and he decided to push her away for no reason.Â
But it was late, and it was better that way, he had nothing to offer her.Â
One late evening, Bucky and Steve were walking into the tower, you were walking in their direction, really trying to not make eye contact with Bucky.Â
âEvening,â you said, smiling at Steve.Â
âMaâam.â He smiled back and you walked away, he looked at Bucky with an eyebrow raised, âwhy did she not acknowledge you?âÂ
Bucky shrugged his shoulders.
âBuckyâŠâ
The blonde stopped his tracks, Bucky sighed knowing he had no other choice but to say the truth.
âI might have ignored her after that stunt at the gym, and she got fed up and stopped talking to me.âÂ
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose exasperated.Â
âYou canât be this idiot.â He mumbled.
âDonât look at me like that.âÂ
âYou have to make up for it, you know it, right?âÂ
âI⊠How am I supposed to do that?â
âFigure it out.â Steve said before walking away. Bucky palmed his face.
So, there he wasâin front of a shelf with a ton of things, cups, little drawings on small canvas, stuffed bears. Nothing seemed like something Bucky would carry around.Â
Steve had convinced him to buy you something for Valentineâs Day. He couldnât even remember the last time he had celebrated itâlet alone bought something like that in this century.Â
He slid his fingers through his long hairâthe green jacket hugged his biceps, at that moment he felt it was even tighter. He roamed through the whole store âtill a teen girl approached him.
âMister, do you need some help?â He sighed, âDonât worry! We are going to find something lovely for your wife.â
âSheâsânot⊠Sheâs a coworker.â The teenager knitted her eyebrows.Â
âWell, we donât judge here. What does she like?â
And he remembered, he saw you wearing a necklace with a heart more than once in the middleâone day you stopped using it. You had the habit of playing with it and you seemed to miss it from time to time when your hand slid to your chest and didn't find it.Â
The girl who seemed to have a life mission helped Bucky find the perfect necklaceâher words. She put it on a velvety bag and gave it to him.Â
He spent the days dwelling on the idea of giving you the necklaceâyou hadnât even talked to each other in a week or so, he couldnât do the same as you did with the chocolate bar, he didnât feel confident enough to do it. What was he going to do? Were you going to see it as what it was? Just a gift or something else? Every question made him backtrack.
He just left it on his nightstand, he was not even sure if you were going to be there on St. Valentineâs. You probably had a whole dateâor you were probably spending your night with someone. Now he felt like an idiot, he didnât even know if you were taken, and he was not a man to take something that was not his. Not that he wanted to try something with you, but he was sure you were someone that was worth keeping close.Â
You were nice without expecting anything, you felt warm in every room you were in, everyone in the compound had only good things to say about you. And he was the only idiot who didnât have a good relationship with you, just because he couldnât accept that you were just a good person just because. And he saw it, he could see how you treated everyone with kindness and respect, but every time your paths crossedâhe could see it, he saw how you restrained yourself from saying something, to even look at his way, and he hated himself for that.Â
How did he manage to make such sunshine angry at him?
February arrived, and with it, Buckyâs guts to start making amends with you. It started slowly. First, he started to acknowledge you were in the kitchen, looking your way, not talkingâhe knew you deserved time. Now he was the one making the moves, slowly, at your pace, respecting how much you wanted to do or to approach him.
Fucking deep blue eyes. They pierced you enough to try to look at him. But you were hurt, you were nothing but nice to him and suddenly he gives you the cold shoulder? Not something you were going to let it slide.Â
But you caved in, and by Valentineâs week you were on speaking terms againâyou both sat together to have breakfast. Not much talk, just keeping each otherâs company. Something he started to be fond of.Â
Valentineâs Day arrived, and in the morning, he didnât see you thereâbut for the first time, a chocolate bar waited for him. No sticky notes, no name. Just a bar.Â
He thought it was weird to not have your characteristic sticky notes there, but he was thankful you started your old routine together.Â
He didnât see you the rest of the day. Not in the hallways, not in the labs, not eating with Hill as you usually did. And there, his suspicions grew bigger. You may be on a romantic daytrip with a manâ-a normal man. Not a bionic centenarian with the worst PTSD seen by man.Â
Now the necklace on his pocket weighed more, he felt idiotic thinking he could have something normal.Â
At nine he walked to the kitchen, the hallways were silent, he could hear his footsteps echoing through them, but a dim light on the lab caught his attention. He peeped through the door, and you were there. Sitting in front of a tablet and thousands of papers.
He couldnât believe his eyes. What were you doing there? He cleared his throat before speaking.
âHi, there.â He said almost in a whisper.
You jumped on your spot with the sudden voice. âOh god. Donât ever do that again!â You chuckled.
âSorry, thought you heard me.âÂ
âNo, I was too focused on this.â You raised the tablet in your hand, âI need to finish it before the end of February.âÂ
He raised an eyebrow, âI get thatâbut what are you doing here? I thought you were going to be on a date or something.âÂ
You furrowed your eyebrows, âwhy would Iâbe on a date?âÂ
âSt. Valentineâs Day?â Your mouth fell open.
"Wait, it's Valentine's Day today?! Oh! Thatâs why Hill told me to get a date. Such an idiot.â You palmed your face, âIâve been here all day without taking even a break.â
âDid you forget it was Valentineâs Day?âÂ
âYeah. Not my yearâor life⊠romantically speaking.âÂ
âThe prize of being Tonyâs assistant?âÂ
âMore like the prize of not being attractive?â His jaw clenched. How could you think that way?Â
âItâs fine, Iâm used to not having dates on Valentineâs, Bucky. Thatâs why I forgot about it.
He wanted to tell you a lot of things, how precious you were, how kind and warm you wereâ but he just nodded and stepped back, disappearing from your sight. He walked directly to Steveâs room.
âEverythingâs fine?â He asked when he saw the distraught look Bucky had.
âShe didnât even know today was ValentineâsâŠâÂ
Steve chuckled. If there was something of the old Bucky remaining on this new man standing in front of him, this was a hint. Bucky was ever a gentleman back in time, and something was showing up right now in the anger his eyes reflected.Â
Next morning you arrived and no sight of Buckyânor a chocolate bar in the kitchen.Â
Maybe the selfâdeprecating joke was too soon?Â
You couldnât stop thinking about how stupid you mustâve sounded. You really felt secondâhand embarrassment. All day was the same, if you werenât thinking about Bucky, you were thinking about how pathetic you sounded.Â
When the dark of night covered the sky, you decided to leave to your roomâsomething inside you wanted to make you dig a hole below your bed and never leave.
When you were walking to your room, you saw how Bucky was standing up in the middle of the living roomâa white buttoned shirt hugging his godâgiven body. He seemed nervous, something strange to see on him.
âUhâIâŠCanâŠâÂ
Was he stuttering? He? The Winter Soldier?
âCan you come with me?â He finally had the guts to finish the sentence, you tilted your head to the side but nodded.Â
You both went up in the elevator in silence, and something felt heavier in the air. When the door opened on the roof, there was a table decorated with a white tablecloth and a couple of red roses in the middle.
âYouâare attractive. And if any man has told you otherwise in the pastâthey are imbeciles and blind.âÂ
A tear started to well up on your eye. No one had ever done something like this for you, and a man who was this haunted did it just because of a selfâdeprecating joke you made? You were speechless, but he walked with you to the table, he helped you take a seat and in front of you there was a chocolate bar with a velvety bag.Â
âI bought it for youâhope itâs enough to say sorry for the way I treated you. Notânot that I want to buy your forgiveness, butâGodâs sake, can you just open it?â
You chuckled, seeing him this flustered wasâglorious. When you opened the bag, a necklace with a heart in the middle was there. You couldnât believe he noticed everything.
Your favorite chocolates, your lost necklace. He was really paying attention to you.Â
âI donât know what to say, BuckyâI donât have anything for you.âÂ
âI didnât ask for anythingâyouâve been so kind to me. You are the first person outside of the people who knew me through Steve, who didnât think the worst of me. You have shown me that I can be kind, and that I should trust maybe a bit more.âÂ
You chuckled.
âSo then why did you treat me that way?â
He sighed, âI thought you were sent by Tony, that you were a kind of guard or handler.âÂ
Your eyes were open in surprise.Â
âBuckyâhave you seen me? Thereâs no way I could handle anything,â he chuckled, âand beside, Tony? Tony has been bullying me since the first day I sat with you.âÂ
âI know, Iâm an idiot.âÂ
âI forgive youâI forgave you. Thatâs what people do.â
The word âpeopleâ came out of your lips as if it wanted to be something different. Â
He looked at you, and for the first time he was sure he could have something beautiful on his arm, something strong enough to not be broken but soft enough to make him feel different. Â
The night was beautiful. With Natâs help he cooked a lasagna and Tony gave him an expensive whine.Â
The conversation between you flowed as if you hadnât been in dead silence for the past months, and it felt well, like the whole thing you had was supposed to be like that. Like you both didnât need many words before.Â
âAnd where did your last necklace go?â He asked, as he saw how from time to time you caressed where the old necklace hung before.Â
âIt got lostâI donât even know where. I was so sad, it was a cheap thing, but I bought it years ago and it was always with me.âÂ
âWell, you donât have to wear the one I bought you just because I did it. I just thoughtâŠâ
âAre you crazy? Iâm not going to stop wearing it like ever.âÂ
Mornings were easier now, he now prepared two bowls of whatever he did, one for you and one for him. Late nights in the lab? He was there waiting for you, he even started to walk you to your car every time you left the compound. If you had to stay there, you both spent most of the night in the gardens just talking.
You learned a lot about him, and he always left the graphic details; not because he didnât trust you at this pointâbut because he didnât want you to pity him.Â
Even when you never did, it didn't matter what he told you, or what he slipped. You never pitied him. Every time he told you a censored story of his past, you just nodded, let him finish, and made a remarkâsometimes something about him being amazing at story telling, sometimes about a specific part of the story.Â
But never about him. Somehow, you knew he didnât want nor needed that, and you always paid attention to it.Â
It was not like you were dancing around him, or walking on eggshells, more likeâyou wanted him to feel comfortable with you, even if it took time.Â
One night, you were sitting in the garden, he was sitting on his butt looking at the sky, while you were crossing your legs next to him. Nights like that became a part of your routine, talking nonsense, walking around the place, silence that helped you both to decompress.Â
âWhy were you so nice to me?â He finally asked, you look at him, almost weirded out.Â
âWell, why wouldnât I? You did nothing wrongânot to me, like ever.âÂ
âSo, youâre just nice around everyone?âÂ
âIs that not like we are supposed to be?âÂ
Bucky shrugged.Â
âYou know youâre too good for your own sake?âÂ
âIâve been told before.â
There was a pause before you looked back at him.Â
âBucky, I like youâŠâÂ
He swallowed.
âThis is not a proposal at all. I just want to be honestâI think someone like you appreciates honesty.âÂ
âI do. I appreciate it.â He looked at you, he moved his body to be just slightly closer to you, âAnd I like you too, butâŠâÂ
Bucky paused before finishing the sentence.Â
âIâm not sure I can start something healthy.âÂ
âIâm not asking for anythingâif you want to take the things slowly, we can take them like that.âÂ
âAnd if it takes a lot?â
âThen a lot will be.â You answered, he sighed, âBucky, can you stop over thinking this? Just⊠let yourself feel.â
âAnd what if I hurt you?â
âYou wouldnât be the first nor the last.âÂ
Your smile made him weak, and the way you were handing your heart to him made him realize he liked you more than what he thought. He sat on his knees, facing you, his hand cupping your cheek slowly, chest heaving.Â
âTell me if you are not comfortable.â You shook your head.
âDonât stop, please.âÂ
Your hands found their way to his neck, pulling him just inches closer before your lips touched.Â
âAnd it just took three months after Valentineâs.â Tony chuckled, walking in your direction.Â
âTonyâŠâ You said before trying to stand up.Â
âOh, donât mind me. Iâm just taking a walk, but itâs nice to see two lovebirds enjoying their night.âÂ
Bucky sighed.Â
âCâmon, Barnes. You can take her to real dates now.âÂ
Tony joked before leaving the garden.Â
âIâm sorry.â Bucky looked at you.Â
âI know Tony, thatâs fine.âÂ
âNo⊠I mean, yes. But, heâs rightâI should have asked you on a proper date sooner.â
âSlow pace, Bucky. Slow pace.âÂ
You took his hand and tangled your fingers with his, before you could do anything, he leaned on you and kissed you.Â
It was slow, but fiercely, something that hadnât been said was confessed there, and everything felt complete at that moment. Â
summary: you meet a silent man in the streets of bucharest, it becomes your personal mission to break through his shell
warnings: discussion of pstd
author's note: I have always wondered what happened between the post-tws cutscene and cacw, so this is an attempt at filling the gap. i may add more if people would like that. thanks for reading!
tws!bucky who has just moved from the US to Romania, and struggles to speak his name, as if it were not his own, when you introduce yourself
tws!bucky who is constantly on edge, eyes flitting around, body tense yet his face betrays no emotion
tws!bucky who takes weeks for you to get more than a single word out of, and even then he speaks little of himself. he just listens, drinking every word
tws!bucky who slowly pieces himself back together, recognising one of his favourite foods when you shyly offer him baked goods you made him. hearing a song that makes him tap his leg, seeing a seventy year old movie that he can quote line by line
tws!bucky who begins to write down every flash, every memory; you'd bring him books and newpapers to cut up and copy to piece himself back together
cacw!bucky who holds your hands tight during visions, each assasination attempt, each mission returning to him with his past
cacw!bucky who argues with you about whether to simply hand himself over, you convince him that being in a cell is no way to make amends - only by living can he come to gain forgiveness, including from himself
cacw!bucky who undertakes strength training, as it is the only thing he can control about his body, the only way he can see to protect himself - to protect you, when they do finally come for him
cacw!bucky who never gets to say goodbye, one day he is there and the next you stand watching TV silently, tears streaming, as you see him confined in Berlin
Summary: A hug and kiss from Bucky can do wonders.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, term of endearment (sweetheart), rough day, being tired, fluff, tenderness, protective vibes, Bucky's trauma referenced, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I still don't have a lot of time to write, but I managed a little something. â€ïž Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Your life had been busy lately, but manageable. You wouldnât say you were thriving, but you were surviving and that was enough for now. But today? It was a rough one. Nothing seemed to go your way. Not to mention, the weariness in your bones reminded you that you had to stop running on fumes.Â
You barely made it to the couch before you collapsed, groaning as you buried your face in the cushion. You only lifted your head to breathe and check your phone when it went off. A smile touched your lips when you sat that Bucky texted you.Â
No matter how rough the days were, your boyfriend was a bright spot.
âBarely heard from you today, sweetheart. You okay?â
Your heart sank when you scrolled through the chat. You usually sent him memes or gifs that you knew would make him laugh, along with sweet messages to let him know you were thinking of him. Today you hardly sent a thing with everything going on.
It was touching that he noticed something was off.
âRough day. Sorry I worried you.â
You curled up with a yawn, the phone resting beside you.
âJust resting my eyes,â you mumbled.
You werenât sure how much time had passed when the familiar rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the quiet of your apartment, making you sit up slowly. Your heart fluttered, not needing to look out the window because you knew exactly who was there. One of your favorite people.
Bucky.
Your Bucky.
The sudden knock at the door sounded impatient as you stood up and stretched. You almost laughed when the knock continued, louder and more persistent. Maybe it was time to give him a key.
You barely got the door open before Bucky pushed his way inside, forcing you to step back as he kicked the door shut without taking his eyes off you. Your breath rushed out of your lungs when you looked him over. The sight of him in a leather jacket always did something to you.
But the crease between his brows pushed the excitement away.Â
âBucky?â you asked.
A small sound left your mouth when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. His other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his hold protective and tender. It felt like your feet werenât on the ground.Â
âIâm here,â he answered, his voice rough and low. âIâve got you.â
You felt his heart beat against you steadily, grounding you as your fingers curled in his jacket. The scent of leather and cologne filled your nostrils as you took a deep breath. Your eyes burned suddenly when he held you tighter, almost like he was giving you permission to fall apart if you wanted to. It wasnât just a hug.
It was exactly what you needed without realizing it.
âIâve got you,â he said again, his lips touching your temple.
You didnât break down, but you did sniffle.
âToday sucked,â you said, proud of yourself for not pouting.
It sounded ridiculous. Bucky had lived through years of torture, brainwashing and more. You hadnât experienced even a tenth of the pain he endured and you were whining about-
âIâm sorry, sweetheart,â he said sincerely, rubbing your back soothingly. He never invalidated your feelings. âIâll listen if you wanna talk about it, or I can punch something or someone if it makes you feel better.â
You let out a watery laugh. âNo punching,â you said, pulling back far enough to look at him. âDid you really speed all the way here because I said I had a rough day? I know you sped.â
âI may have.â The small smile on his face made you smile. âYou tell me something like that and you think I wonât drop everything to get to you?â
Your heart skipped a beat. No other boyfriend dropped whatever they were doing to get to you in the past. But Bucky always managed to find ways to put you first. The male species could learn a thing or two from him.
âYou were probably busy,â you guessed.
âDoesnât matter. Nothingâs more important than you.â
Your eyes burned again, but you blinked the tears away. âThank you.â
The corners of his eyes crinkled. âYou donât have to thank me for showing up,â he said, grasping your chin carefully. âCan I do one more thing?â
His mouth found yours before you finished nodding.
It wasnât a rushed or hungry kiss. It was something warm and impossibly gentle, like the grip on your chin, a kind of kiss that resonated in your core. He deepened it, like he needed a reminder that you were real and safe as he comforted you.Â
It felt like love.
His forehead rested against yours when he broke the kiss. âDid that help at all?â he asked, his breath ghosting your lips and thumb stroking your chin.
âMore than you know,â you murmured, leaning into him.Â
âGood.â He pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. âDid you eat?â
Your silence answered that question.
He sighed, not waiting for permission as he walked you backward toward your couch. âIâm ordering your favorite,â he said, pulling you onto his lap once he took a seat. His jacket was still on. âAnd Iâm gonna hold you until it gets here, feed you if you let me, and do whatever you want for the rest of the night.â
You settled into him, your body truly relaxing this time. âEven watch a bad romcom?â you asked, still in awe of how much he wanted to take care of you.
He rested his chin on your shoulder. âIf thatâs what helps.â
âGetting a hug and kiss from you did wonders,â you said honestly.
Knowing that someone saw you made a world of difference.Â
âWonders, huh? Didnât know I was that powerful,â he teased, taking out his phone to order.
You giggled and titled your head a bit. âYou didnât tell me about your day.â
âI got to see you,â he said, smiling gently. âSo itâs a good day.â
And being in Buckyâs arms made your day much better.
I know a hug and kiss from Bucky would help me, okay? Love and thanks for reading! â€ïž
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings:Â this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: you meet a new friend as you start a new hobby, but they arenât the only one interested in you. (best friendâs dad)
Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. Iâm trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I havenât forgotten those!) Please do not just put âmoreâ. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. đ
You lay awake for most of the night. Thereâs moments when your thoughts fade and you sink into a sort of daze but each time youâre near the point of sleep, you start. You roll over in another bout of restlessness and nearly scream.
Saralieâs eyes are open and her fine features brighten in a smile as her blond lashes flick. âMorning!â She chirps.
âUm⊠hi, uh, morning,â your voice is crisp from the dry air of the AC.
âI have an idea.â She breathes in delight.
You blink. âWhat time is it?â
She giggles and sits up. She looks tiny in her oversized shirt. You can guess by the baseball team logo that itâs likely one of her dadâs handmedowns. You push yourself up and suppress a groan as your head swims.
âItâs morning.â She shrugs and wiggles on her knees. âUm,â she taps her pointer fingers together. âDo you work today?â
âNo, itâs my day off.â
âNice! I meanâŠâ She tilts her head one way then the other. âAre you⊠busy?â
You shake your head.
âGood. Good. Do you remember I said dad just put in a pool?â
âI thinkâŠâ
âWe should go swimming! Have a pool party.â She claps. âWonât that be fun?â
âOh, sure, I guess if itâs⊠okay?â
âSure it will be!â She bounces and turns around, hopping off the bed.
You clear your gritty throat. âUm, I donât⊠have a swimsuit.â
âAll good. We need to go get supplies so Iâm sure dad will let me borrow the car.â She sits at her vanity with the fur trimmed mirror and grabs a brush with a vintage wooden engraving in the back. She runs it through her flaxen hair. âHowâd you sleep?â
You shift to the edge of the bed and contemplate the steep drop. âOkay.â You lie.
âI dreamt of dragons! Must be all that map making,â she sweeps back her long locks. âDid you dream of anything?â
âNot really.â You say, though you wonder if maybe what happened was actually a dream. It was just so strange.
âRight, well, do you drink coffee like Dad? Cause he has a bunch and Iâm sure you can figure out how to make it.â She offers.
âOh thatâs okay.â You defer. âReally, I donât want to impose.â
âImpose? Youâre my friend! Whatâs mine is yours. Or whatever.â She trills. âPeter just goes ahead and plays with all my stuff. No questions. He broke my Robin Hood figure, actually.â
âOhâŠâ
âAll good. He fixed it.â She puts the brush down. âSo⊠I canât wait! Pool party! And maybe Iâll make more Unicorn Juice. Itâs great with ice in the sun.â
âHm, maybe, yeah.â You agree gently as you slide down off the bed. âOr maybe some iced tea?â
đŠ
You sit on one of the tall stools along the kitchen island. Before you thereâs a collection of coloured gel pens littered across the wooden surface and a notepad with items written in every shade of neon. Saralie pops the cap back on an aqua hue and sticks her tongue out.
âI totally forgot my new purse!â She bounces. âBe right back.â
âSure, Iâll be⊠here.â You twiddle your fingers on the island as she skitters out of the room.
You sit in the silence of the kitchen. You wiggle your foot against the bar of the stool and look around. You could probably fit most of your apartment in just this one room.
âMmph,â the deep groan startles you as Steve enters, dragging his hands over his beard. He drops his arms and stops short as he sees you. You stiffen in your seat. âMm⊠Morning,â he grits out.
âMorning,â you murmur and pull your hands off the island and cross your arms.
He nods and glances around awkwardly. He goes to the counter and puts his back to you. He grips the edge, tapping his thick fingertips, before he makes up his mind. You watch the strain of the cotton between his broad shoulders as he reaches to open a cupboard.
âYou like coffee?â He asks over his shoulder, giving a glimpse of his profile.
âErm, you donât have toââ
âIâm making a pot.â He insists and pulls out the canister. âSo if you do, help yourself.â
He sidles along as he goes about measuring the grounds into a wet filter and slipping it into a pourover urn. Before he pours the water, he sets the small eggs timer and waits. You squirm, trying to think of any reason to leave him to his morning ritual.
âGot it! Isn't it so cuteeeee!â Saralie squeals as she enters and shows off a purse in the shape of a tea pot. Oh, wouldnât it be so awesome if you got the tea cup one and we could be like twins?â
âSure,â you force a smile.
âMorning, Sara.â Steve says sternly over his shoulder.
âSara? Oof, whatâd I do now?â She chuckles.
He harrumphs and sets down the kettle. He turns and braces his hips, a gesture that bulges in his biceps and chest. âYouâre up early.â
âSo are you,â she sticks out her tongue.
He narrows his eyes. She grins and angles her head coyly.
âWe had a great idea!â She chimes. âPool party!â
âA pool party?â He echoes and his eyes skim between her and you. You chafe in your seat.
âWell, you put it in for a reason, didnât you?â She retorts. âWeâre just going to go grab some floaties. Oh and her swim suit.â
âYou are?â He challenges.
âDad. Daddy.â She pouts. He shakes his head.
âDad is fine.â He sniffs.
âCaptain!â She salutes mockingly. âCan I pretty please borrow the car today? Promise weâll be so quick.â
He stares at her and his cheek dimples. His face softens. âI got nowhere. Just make sure you wear your glasses.â
âFine!â She rolls her eyes.
He nods and drops his hands. He turns around and swirls the urn of coffee then grabs a mug to pour. He smells the nutty scent of the blend as he faces you again.
âItâs good coffee if I do say so myself. I finally perfected the ratio.â He lifts the cup ever so slightly. âHelp yourself.â
âThanks, dad!â Saralie beams then hops up to the island. âThis is going to be so awesome! EEEE!â She claps and you glimpse Steve behind her as he looks back just as he gets to the door. He seems protective of her. Or suspicious of you. Maybe both.
đŠ
You canât remember the last time you used your swimsuit. Youâre surprised you havenât thrown it away. Itâs an old black and white one-piece with nothing really special about it. You shove it into a reusable shopping bag with a pair of beat-up flip flops and hurry out before you run into any of your roommates.
As you pull the car handle, the door doesnât release. You peer inside as Saralie clings to the steering wheel and stares in the other direction. You gently tap on the window and she jumps. She looks at you and smiles, waving frantically before she unlocks the door.
You get in and cradle the bag on your lap. As you do up your seatbelt, the safety censor chiming at you, she looks back in the same direction as before. You lean forward to try to find what has her attention.
âAre you okay?â You ask.
âMhmm,â she sits back and shifts into drive. âItâs only⊠there was a man. He looked like he needed help. He was allâŠdazed or something.â
You chew your cheek as she makes a u-turn and steers back down the street. You shift awkwardly. âMm, thereâs a few people around here⊠you know, they do need help but nothing we can do for them.â
âWhat do you mean?â She asks as she flips her glasses up and squints at the road.
You watch her for a minute then sigh. âYou know, drugs and stuff.â
Her brows pop up and her mouth falls open. âOh⊠I didnâtâŠâ
âItâs fine. I donât know. Thereâs shelter around the next street or something.â You grumble. âItâs⊠sad.â
âYeah,â she agrees.
Youâre quiet for a while after that. You can sense her thinking and see the sadness in her face. It takes a moment to realise she isnât slowing down at some shopping plaza, rather in front of a row of townhouses.
âSaralie, are you alright?â You ask.
âIâm good. I just⊠wish people like that could get help.â She says wispily.
âMe too,â you say. âBut you canât fix every problem.â
âYeahâŠâ she trails off.
Something thumps on the side of the car and you both jolt in surprise. You look over as a young guy stands outside, smirking. Saralie brightens up and rolls down the window, just an inch.
âSorry, we donât need a car wash.â
âLeeLee, come on,â the guy says. âItâs hot as Mordor out here.â
He has a sheen of sweat on his forehead, a head of thick reddish brown curls, and sports a beachy shirt with palm fronds printed on the thin fabric. His sunglasses have bright red frames and he has a back pack hooked over one shoulder.
âWhatâs the password?â She taunts.
âLet me in or Iâll tell Mr. Rogers about your detour last monthââ
âOh, blackmail? Pete, I thought we were friends.â She scoffs.
He shakes his head and laughs. She unlocks the door and he climbs in the back. He drops his bag beside him.
âDonât call me Pete. It reminds me of Bucky. Heâs scary.â The guy says. âThis must be the new party member.â
âOh, yeah! Peter this isâŠâ Saralie introduces you.
âHi,â you wave as Peter winks at you.
âSorry, I couldnât say anything in front of dad.â She says as she pulls off. âHeâs not easy so early in the morning. With him, better to ask forgiveness.â
âAh, right,â you sit straight and try to hide your discomfort. Your parents never hesitated to tell you no. Not even in front of guests.
âWeâre still going shopping,â she assures.
âYeah, no problem.â You rub your palms together, as you have a flash of the night before. The danger in Steveâs tone and grip.
âItâs gonna be awesome. We can brainstorm the campaign.â Peter says.
âSo are you going to be goblin?â Saralie taunts.
âWill you be my goblin queen?â Peter hurls back.
They laugh but you canât even smile. Youâre the third wheel. Again.
đŠ
Youâre vigilant as you get back to Saralieâs house. The three of you sneak through the house with the haul from the shopping centre. You recall Steve said he had a security system; he can probably see the pathetic attempt at stealth on some camera.
You go out to the backyard and unpack. Saralie strategises as you and Peter work on blowing up the unicorn floatie she chose and the shark he picked. You got the alligator that was on clearance and did your best to cover the red sale tag.
âYouâre not making that dumpster juice again, are you?â Peter asks as he pinches the plastic tube to keep the air in.
âUnicorn juice.â She corrects. âAnd no, Iâm going to make grog. Itâs on them. Pineapple juice, marshmallows, gummy bears, lime soda, and cherry syrup.â
âThat sounds like a nightmare.â Peter says and goes back to inflating.
âIt sounds like yumminess.â She trills.
She lifts the bag, barely able to get it off the ground, and she lumbers towards the sliding doors.
âYou need help?â You offer.
âAll good! Iâll be back with drinks and snacks.â
You nod and go back to getting the unicorn blown up. As you puff through the tube, your eyes wander around the yard. Itâs lovely and trimmed and green. You try not to be jealous, you suppose only covetous. Youâd love to live somewhere like this.
Your eyes float over to the house and something shifts in one of the windows. You canât see much as the sun reflects off the glass. The shadow disappears and the streaks of light sting your eyes.
You look down and try to shake off the tension. Maybe Steve saw you. And Peter. It doesnât matter if itâs then or later. You just know that Saralieâs white lie isnât so little. As nice as her dad can be, youâve seen how cold he can be.
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings:Â this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: you meet a new friend as you start a new hobby, but they arenât the only one interested in you. (best friendâs dad)
Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. Iâm trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I havenât forgotten those!) Please do not just put âmoreâ. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. đ
Your fictional dungeon excavation from the table is cleared away for its real purpose. Steve doles out the pad thai on plates in a shade of rustic red. You sit patiently as Saralie gulps another toxic glass of her mermaid concoction. You couldnât finish your first.
Steve stirs around his noodles as you use the side of the fork to cut yours into shorter, contained pieces. Itâs a much different atmosphere than your family dinners. You usually just made your own dinner and ate in front of the TV or your room. Since you moved out, not much changed, though sometimes you forgot to eat.
âSo,â Steve clears his throat. âYou go to the same college?â
You look at him, nearly flinching at his gaze.
âUh, yes.â You answer.
âSheâs studying the world.â Saralie chimes.
Steve furrows his brow.
âEcology.â You explain. âI think Iâd like to work in a wildlife habitat but Iâll probably end up at a desk writing reports on waste risksâŠâ
He nods thoughtfully. âEither sounds productive. Typically, I need someone to give me the same sort of context for my projects.â
âDad builds stuff.â Saralie says. âHe built my tree house and all.â
âWell, not really. I draw up the designs. Do the planning. Coordinate all the different pieces; installations, foundation work, all that.â
âOh, right. Cool.â You say.
âItâs boring. Thereâs not that many things that arenât already built so I mostly do small updates or reinstalls. Again, boring.â
âSo bored he barely works.â Saralie giggles.
âIâve scaled back. Independent projects.â He shrugs. âIâm sure itâs all Latin to you.â
âHuh, I think itâs kinda⊠interesting.â You insist.
âHeâs pretty much rebuilt half this house,â Saralie boasts. âMade my senior year pretty annoying having the second bathroom shut off.â
âYou said you wanted that clawfoot tub,â Steve clucks.
âAnd I love it. Thank you, dad.â She grins at him.
His expression softens and he nods as he pokes around at his plate. Saralie sucks down a long noodle with a pop of her lips and you do your best to take a tidy bite of tofu and sprouts. She swallows and washes it down with her witchâs brew.
She makes a face and wiggles around. She slides her phone out of her dress pocket and blinks wide. âWow, itâs late.â
âYou know how I feel about your phone at the table.â Steve warns.
âI know, dad. Peter was just asking⊠he texted.â She shrugs. âI canât believe we worked so long.â
âUm, yeah,â you squirm as she tucks her phone away in her overall style dress. âI guess Iâll pack up after this.â
âWhatâs Peter asking?â Steve interjects.
Saralie sends you a look then fawns at her father. âI sent him pics of the map. He was asking when we could play.â
Steve narrows his eyes. âKid sure knows how to invite himself over.â
âI asked him first.â She argues. âDad. Heâs my friend.â
âI didnât say no. Youâre an adult.â He twists noodles around his fork, his thick fingers dwarfing the utensil.
You can appreciate his concern. Almost envy it. With four siblings, itâs easy to get lost in the rabble. Your parents either couldnât or wouldnât try to keep track of all of you.
âYou can join in, you know? You could be our sorcerer!â Saralie suggests. âBut you give more of a warrior vibe. Or a cleric.â
Steve chews quietly as his daughter laughs.
âAnd you can invite Uncle Bucky.â She teases.
He swallows. âYou need to stop calling him a geezer. Heâs still upset.â
âWell, he shouldnât act like one,â she retorts with a cackle.
Steveâs cheek dimples and his brow tweaks, âyou got me there.â
Saralie turns her attention on you, âyouâre leaving before dessert?â
âThereâs dessert?â Steve asks.
âIf youâre good, yes,â she sticks her tongue out at him then looks at you again.
âUm, well, I should really catch the busâŠâ
âOut in the dark,â Steve spreads his shoulders and glances at the window. You crane to check the dark panes.
âIf you stay, I can drive you,â Saralie offers.Â
You think of the man on your way over and shiver. Itâs nice of her to offer but at the same time, theyâve already done so much. You chew your lip.
âItâs okay, I have my pass andâŠâ
âItâs late. Where are your glasses?â Steve taps his fingers on the table.
Saralie blanches. âSomewhere.â
âYou know you canât drive at night without them. You should wear them more.â He chides.
âDad, pleaseâŠâ she begs in frustration.
âI can drive.â He says.
âOh! Or!â She claps her hands and turns fully to her dad. âDaddyâŠ.â
His lips slant. âWhat is it, princess?â He asks dryly.
She giggles. âCan we have a sleepover? Pweez?â
She pushes her lower lips out and clasps her hands tight. He considers her and a smile slowly breaks his veneer. A very subtle one.
âIf you clean up after dinner and dump the rest of that toxic sludge,â he barters.
âYou didnât even try it!â
âIâd need a whole bottle of antacid,â he retorts.
âThatâs not the juice, thatâs your personality,â she chuckles.
His smile fades, âLove you too, Sara.â
âLove you!â She dances in her chair. âSleep. Over!â
âSara,â Steve hums. âYou didnât ask herâŠâ
They both look at you. Suddenly, the room feels very small. You donât have to work in the morning and you donât exactly like waiting out in the dark.
âIf itâs not too much trouble,â you say.
âItâs no trouble.â She chimes. âOh, Iâm so excited.â
Steve watches you. His eyes glimmer and you notice tension ease from his shoulders. You stir your noodles as you try to let go of your own anxiety.Â
đČ
âWe can play my card game!â Saralie shimmies in excitement. âPeter refuses!â
âOh, card game?â
âYes. Itâs so much fun. Itâs a word game. Itâs silly.â She explains as she leads you upstairs.
âUh, sure. Sounds found.â You shift the strap of your bag up your shoulder.
She skips down to a door with her name on it. Each letter is etched in painted wood in a different colour; a small upside-down handprint is the second A. Itâs cute.
âHey,â the deep timbre startles you. Steve emerges from the door at the end of the hall. âI got you a shirt.â He nears and offers the navy blue tee. âSaraâs stuff wonât fit a mouse.â
âOh, thanks,â you stop to take the folded cotton. Your fingertips brush his knuckle. âI⊠didnât even think of that.â
âDad thinks of everything. He thinks too much.â Saralie teases. âBut heâs right. I still shop in the juniors. They have better colorus and theyâre cheaper.â
âUm, thank you, again.â
âNo problem,â he backs up. âLet me know if you need anything else.â
You turn back to Saralie. Sheâs so slight that even her overall dress canât hide her bones. Despite that, sheâs a ball of energy.
âWe wonât, dad!â She grabs your wrist and pulls you through her bedroom door.
Steveâs grumble is cut off by the door shutting behind you. Saralie lets you go and throws up her arms. âWelcome to my hole!â
The bed is tall. So tall, youâll need to climb into it but you can take the floor too. The duvet is decorated with a dainty pink floral, but a neon fluffy throw is crumpled over the top, a sharp contrast to the pastel. A canopy drapes from the corners in sheer rose and several stuffed creatures line the pillows.
The dresser and vanity are white and vintage looking. The mirror is hung with pearls and various amulets, the drawer bursting with swathes of fabric. The chair is velvet in the shape of a flower with silver legs. The space is a cluttered panoply of antiques and bright colours.
âI never had a sleepover before. Well, Peter slept over one night but dad doesnât know thatâŠâ She lowers her voice.
Youâre starting to get suspicious of Peter yourself. If there isnât something going on, or if Saralie isnât looking for that, it seems he might be. Heâs awfully persistent. Then again, what do you know about guys?
âAlright, Iâll find my cards.â She says.
You put down your bag and hang onto the tee shirt. It smells like fabric softener and something else. Something warmer⊠maybe cologne?
âOh, do you wanna get changed?â She asks as she sifts through her cluttered bookshelf. âThe bathroom is the door to the left of us. Or I wonât look if you just wanna do it here?â
âUm sure, Iâll throw this on quick⊠if you donât mind.â
âNo, no. I canât even remember where I put this darn gameâŠâ she bends to look on a lower shelf and knocks over tin. âOhhh, shoot.â
You turn your back to her and switch out your shirt for the borrowed one. Itâs soft, comfy. Better than your work shirt. You tuck the latter into your bag and turn to find Saralie cleaning up the dice scattered over her floor.
âI went a bit crazy at the game shop,â she giggles. âI got one in every colour.â
You chuckle and go to help her. âI havenât even bought a set yet.â
âWell, I think I got you covered,â she trills.
đČ
Saralie snores. Not loudly. Her soft breaths blow out and squeak at the end. Sheâs right beside you, clinging to a stuffed hedgehog, as you lay restless in the strange place. You never sleep well in new places. Or really ever. Your roommates donât help that struggle.
You roll onto your back and keep your eyes closed, letting the steady rhythm of her slumber soothe you. Still, you canât settle. The more you long to just sleep, the more restless you grow. Until you canât contain the nerves in your stomach.
You sit up and slide out of the bed, careful not to hit the floor so hard. You donât know how she sleeps so high up. You grab your phone from where you left it on the dresser and sit on the beanbag in the corner.
You flick through, scrolling the mindless feed until you realise youâre not even processing any of it. You black out the phone and get up. Maybe you shouldâve just gone home.
You have to try again. You need to sleep. You put your phone down and creep to the door. You listen through it before you go out into the hall. You creep down to the bathroom and lean on the door until it shuts. It snaps louder than you mean to.
You keep the light off and go about your business. Once you have an empty bladder, youâll be able to relax. You wash your hands in the dim light of the moon pouring through the frosted window and shut off the tap. You dry off and slowly open the door.
You step out into the hall and nearly scream as someone grabs your shoulders and pushes you against the wall. Instead, you choke on your fear and whimper. You gasp and press yourself flat, closing your eyes as you brace for the attack.
They squeeze and jerk you slightly. A growl tickles your ears and something clicks. Your eyelids light up and you sheepishly flick your lashes up.
Steve has one hand on you as his other recoils from the light switch. You gulp as his eyes flash with realisation and he lets you go.Â
He steps back and pushes his messy hair away from his face. His eyes are dozy and thereâs a subtle line along his cheek from his pillow. Heâs in a pair of striped pajama bottoms and a loose tank that shows off the sides of his chest and muscular arms.
He rubs his eyes and drags his fingers down his cheek.
âIâm sorry. I was dead out and⊠I forgotâŠâ He bats his lashes. âI thought⊠I heard the door. There was no lightâŠâ
âIâm sorry.â You eke out. âI didnât mean to scare you.â
He sniffs and scratches his beard, his hand crawling down to rub his neck. He shakes his head.
âNo, itâs my fault. I⊠I got a whole system and Iâm here acting like some vigilante.â He huffs and drops his arm. âAre you okay?â
âIâmâŠâ you hesitate. You feel the steel of his grip in your shoulders. âIâm fine. I justâŠâ you glance over at the bathroom.
âWow,â he cringes. âIâm⊠Iâm a dummy.â
âItâs f-fine,â you assure him. âIâm just⊠going back to bed.â
âOf course.â He shifts. âDonât let me keep you up.â
You nod and shrink down. You turn and scurry along the wall. You quickly dip through Saralieâs door and shut it gently.
You hear his sigh from the other side. The light limns beneath the door even as you climb back into bed. Saralie is still snoring. You stare at the bright line along the floor until it shuts off. You hear Steveâs footsteps as he retreats.
Well, youâre not too sure youâll be getting much sleep.
summary: you sleep with jack for the first time and discover what it means to be loved gently
cw: smut (mdni, 18+), gentle sex, oral (f rec), referenced p in v, reader uses sex as a coping mechanism and has low self-esteem, light intoxication
wc: 3k
a/n: listen, I do not think that rough sex is necessarily a bad thing, but it can be. I donât feel like expanding on thisÂ
now playing:Â Nothingâs Gonna Hurt You Baby â Cigarettes After Sex
Jack canât take his eyes off you. Not when you look the way you do right now: skin glowing, eyes sparkling, and a truly sincere smile on your face.Â
The wine bottle shared between the two of you stands at your feet as his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer. He tastes the grapes on your tongue when his own slips between your parted lips, mapping out the inside of your mouth slowly. His palm wanders from your side to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him.Â
You only pull away when you start to get lightheadedâtoo little oxygen, too much love.Â
Love.Â
Neither one of you has said it yet. Itâs much too early for that four-letter word, but the idea of it hangs over you as he kisses your cheek instead of your mouth to let you catch your breath.Â
Jack tilts his head to meet your gaze and smiles softly. His eyes drift over your face like heâs memorizing every inch. Heâs close enough that he could count each individual lash if he wanted to.Â
When he lifts his hands to cup your face between his palms, you melt into his touch.Â
âYouâre so beautiful,â he whispers.Â
Your skin heats under his hands, blood rushing to your face. The timid smile on your face tugs at Jackâs heartstrings.
âSo beautiful,â he repeats tenderly.Â
He means it.Â
You misinterpret it.Â
When you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him again, thereâs more heat to itâthe kind that leads to places you havenât been to with him yet.Â
He keeps you steady, your face still held by him.Â
His lips fit against yours like two puzzle pieces.
The weight of him leads you towards the couch naturally. He doesnât guide or force but simply leans in until you sink onto the cushions, him braced above you.Â
Your hand drifts down from his chest to his stomach. Through his shirt, you still feel the way his muscles flex under your touch.Â
He breaks the kiss to look at you, an almost dopey curve to his mouth.Â
âYouâre ticklinâ me,â he mumbles.Â
âThatâs on purpose,â you reply.Â
He grins, then catches your hands in his own.Â
âIs that so?â he whispers. âAnything else you want to confess?â
You let a few seconds pass, just for dramatic effect, before you nod.Â
âYeah,â you mumble, âIâm also trying to take your shirt off right now.â
Jack chuckles softly.Â
âYou donât say,â he teases. âAny reason for that?â
You roll your eyes fondly.Â
âTake a guess.â
A gentle laugh spills from him, originating deep from his chest. You feel the vibration travel through him until it reaches your hand, too.Â
âI think I can help out with that.â
He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, then over his head. Your eyes are glued to every inch of sun-kissed skin thatâs slowly exposed. For a moment, you hesitate before you reach out to rest your hand on his chest, feeling the heat radiating from him.Â
When youâve had your fill of touching himâthough youâre not sure youâll ever get enough of himâyou take off your own shirt. You had planned in advance and worn a black lace bralette, but you hadnât told Jack, so you could trick him into thinking that youâre always this put together.Â
The matching panties waited for him under the skirt, which you were eager for him to pull off of you.Â
Jack canât look awayâand doesnât want to. Youâre surprised that for once, it doesnât feel like youâre being ogled.Â
No, Jack admires.Â
His fingers drift over your breasts up to your neck, then rest on your face.Â
âLike I said,â he whispers. âBeautiful.â
Instead of answering, you lean in to kiss him again. As your lips press against his, you reach for his belt buckle and open it. Jack hums into your mouth, a small roll of his hips encouraging you.Â
He helps you take off his jeans. Jack talked to you about not wearing his prosthetic at home around you a few days ago, but right now, he still has it on. He seems a little nervous as his pants fall away, and you get a full glance at it for the first time.
You donât mind at all.Â
The next barrier that falls is your skirt. Jack undoes the zipper at the side carefully, then slides the fabric down your legs. He makes a sound you canât quite categorize when he sees the thin lace panties you picked out for tonight.
âFuck,â he whispers, âHow are you this perfect?â
Again, you forgo an answer with another kiss.Â
Jack notices. He cups your face, then pulls away a little just to look at you. His brows knit together slightly.Â
âHey,â he mumbles.
You havenât been together that long yet, but he knows you well enough to see that you donât feel like talking about this right now.Â
Still, for a moment, he chews on his bottom lip in contemplation before he asks, âWouldnât you rather take this to the bedroom?â
You shrug softly.
âI donât mind the couch. Whatever you want.â
The divot between his brows deepens.Â
âBut Iâm asking you what you want,â he counters. âIf⊠if weâre doing this right now, I want you to be comfortable.â
âI am comfortable,â you reply.Â
He nods reluctantly.Â
âAlright,â he mumbles.
The next kiss feels a little differentânot in a bad way, just more careful. Jack waits, lets you chase him instead of taking the lead. So you do.Â
You reach behind you to unfasten the clasps of your bra. As the lace falls away, Jack watches with amazement. He almost manages to throw in another compliment for you, but you donât give him the chance.
You stand up from the couch and hook your fingers into your panties, then slowly slip them off.Â
Jackâs breath hitches. He leans into the back of the couch to watch as you step out of the fabric that fell to your ankles. This time, he truly stares.Â
When you step closer, he pulls you in by your hips until youâre seated on his lap. Your bare cunt brushes over the bulge in his boxers, causing both of you to moan.Â
You roll against him once, then twice, then kiss him again. The heat between the two of you is unbearable. You donât understand why he hasnât taken off his underpants yet and wonder if he maybe just needs a little bit more encouragement, so you grind down against him again.Â
Jack hisses at the contact, his fingers tightening on your sides.Â
âFuck, baby,â he mutters. âYouâre gonna give me a heart attack.â
âThen let me help you,â you chuckle and reach for the waistband of his boxers.
He lifts his hips to help you slip them offâand you swallow hard when you see what youâre working with. The grey happy trail youâve been eyeing since his shirt came off leads down to his thick cock. The size of the bulge makes more sense now. Heâs veiny and flushed a dark red, almost a little purple at the tip.Â
âJesus,â you whisper.
Jack chuckles, maybe even a little self-consciously so.Â
âYeah, itâs um⊠itâs been a while for me,â he admits.Â
Your mouth falls openâyou hadnât expected that. A man with his looks, a doctor at that, too?
âReally?â you ask. âI mean⊠thatâs okay. I donât mind. Just⊠tell me what you like.â
He shrugs softly.Â
âI like you.âÂ
His answer is so sappy that it makes you grin.Â
âShut up. No, really, tell me what you like.â
Jack looks at you and pulls you closer again.Â
âIâm serious,â he mumbles. âI just want you, however you want. Why? What kinda stuff do the kids like these days?â
Your face warms a little.
âI donât know,â you mumble. A total lie.Â
âWe can try some stuff, you know?â
âLike what?â he asks. âYou want me to tie you up?âÂ
He chuckles like the idea is absurd to him.Â
âWould you want to tie me up?â you counter.Â
Jackâs brows furrow again.Â
âI donât think thatâs my thing,â he says quietly.Â
You nod slowly.Â
âWhat aboutâŠâ
Saying it out loud feels, for lack of a better word, cringe, so you take his hand and place it on the base of your throat.Â
Jack doesnât pull away immediately, but his fingers donât wrap around your neck either. He looks up at you, his jaw set tightly.Â
Then he shakes his head and cups your face instead.Â
âI donât think so,â he says softly. âHow about⊠we just take things slow and figure it out as we go?â
When you nod, Jack kisses you, and it tastes like relief.Â
He surprises you when he switches positions with youâyouâd have thought he would want you to stay on top. Â
Jack braces his weight on his forearms as he hovers above you, his face just inches away from you. Then he lowers his head, but his lips donât meet yoursâthey trail down over your chest. His tongue swirls around your nipple, making you gasp as the sensation tingles through you.Â
He cups your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh gently, then places a kiss on the valley between your breasts before he descends further.Â
To your ribs⊠then your navel⊠then your hipbone.Â
Your breath stills completely when his fingers come to rest on your thighs. He doesnât push them open yet.
âMay I?â he asks.Â
âYeah,â you whisper.Â
He parts your legs gently, his eyes still focused on you until he lowers his head andâ
Your world tilts a little.Â
When his tongue drags through your drenched slit, and Jack moans out loud, you arch towards him. He holds your hips in place, fingers digging into the fleshânot hard enough to bruise, but enough to make you feel him.Â
âFuck,â he gasps, âYou taste so fucking good, baby.â
He flattens his tongue against your clit, licking upwards until you see stars.
âJack-â you moan, trying⊠you donât know what youâre trying to say. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, tugging slightly at the grey curls.Â
He sucks your clit into his mouth, causing you to cry out in pleasure.Â
He laps at your cunt like a starved dog, and you canât believe that âitâs been a whileâ for him, not when heâs eating you out like that.
âIâoh God,â you sigh dreamily.
Your legs quiver, your hips twitchâyour entire body is shaking with pleasure.Â
âThatâs it, baby,â Jack murmurs, his words muffled. âFuckâplease, just let me make you feel good.â
The sounds of your arousal mixing with his saliva are unholyâa wet overflow of moisture between your thighs. Jack seems to be right where he wants to be. He moans into your flesh, his hips bucking and pressing into the couch below like he is trying to alleviate the ache, the buildup of his own need.Â
When you come apart, he guides you through it, not stopping until your brain is overflowing with oxytocin and your thighs wonât stop shaking.Â
Both of you are panting when he comes up.Â
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smiles devilishly.Â
âGod⊠weâre so doing this again,â he declares softly.Â
Youâre at a loss for words. You havenât come like that ever. All you can do is nod and reach for him.Â
Jack plants his arms on either side of your head and kisses you deeply. You taste yourself on his tongue, the sweet, tangy flavor erupting in your mouth.Â
His leaking cock presses against your tummy as his lips graze yours.
You reach between you and stroke him, making him groan into your mouth.Â
âJesus,â he mutters when he pulls away to look at you. âYouââ
He thrusts into your hand instinctively, and you realize just how pent up he is.Â
âYour turn,â you whisper.Â
Jack tsks softly, half amused, half⊠something else.Â
He cups your face and kisses your jaw tenderly.Â
âBelieve me, that was my turn,â he says lowly. âBut if you want to keep going, Iâm sure as hell not saying no.â
--
The bliss afterwards is indescribable. But itâs also foreign.
You still sense every press of his hands on your body without feeling tender, every brush of his lips without a single mark on your skin, and every thrust of his hips without that residual feeling of having been used.Â
Jack was nothing but gentle.Â
And god, it was incredible.Â
The sheets underneath you are crumpled and slightly damp with sweat and sex, but you donât mind. Not when Jackâs arm is wrapped around you, your back pressing against his chest. He kisses the side of your neck where your pulse still flutters with excitement.Â
âYou were incredible,â he whispers.
It must be so obvious that his words fluster you because he smirks when you hide your face in the sheets.Â
âBarely even did anything,â you mumble.Â
Jack makes a sound you canât quite discern.Â
âRight,â he chuckles. âExcept that thing where you got really tight when you were about to come again orââ
You whip around and press your hand over his mouth, your eyes wide and embarrassed.
âJack,â you complain, half-serious, half-playful.Â
He kisses your palm and smiles.Â
âHey, Iâm just teasinâ,â he retorts. âBut I really meant it. It was really great for me.â
âYeah, for me, too,â you mumble.Â
Youâre not used to any kind of pillow talk, so the words feel thick, like they donât quite want to leave your mouth.Â
Jack doesnât seem to mind. He just pulls you closer against his chest and rests his chin on the top of your head.Â
As the minutes pass, he tells you to go pee and promises more cuddles later on.Â
In the bathroom, you look at yourself in the mirror. The haphazardly buttoned-up shirt youâre wearing belongs to Jack and falls to your mid-thigh. Your hair is a mess from how often he ran his hands through it. A few hickeys begin to gain color and paint your neck a soft purple.
You canât help but smile.Â
âHey, sweetheart?â Jack calls out. âYour phone keeps vibrating. I think someone really wants to talk to you!â
âYeah, just a sec,â you reply.Â
When you return to his bedroom, Jack is sitting up, his brows drawn together slightly. Your phone is in his hand, the screen facing up.Â
âSorry,â he says as he passes it to you. âI didnât mean to spy on you or anything, just wanted to bring it to you.â
You take your phone and glance at the messagesâand feel your face heat up.
âOh.â Your laugh comes out stiff as you quickly shut off your phone. âSorry, umâtheyâre joking, of course. Like, uhâŠâ
Jack looks at you quietly, watching as you fumble nervously with the edge of your phone case. There was a light flush to his cheeks now, too.Â
âNo, no, donât worry, I shouldnât have read it anyway, I just looked at it âcause it kept⊠vibrating,â he explains.Â
The awkward silence that follows feels detrimental.Â
You wonder if you should explain more, or if maybe stammering another apology would make it worse, but then Jack breaks the quiet first.Â
âNot to sound my age, but⊠I assume cracking means⊠uh⊠hooking up?â
You press your lips together uncomfortably.
âYeah,â you mumble. âLike, um⊠yes.â
He nods once. Then he tilts his head to catch your eyes.Â
âItâs not the⊠nicest word, is it?â he asks.Â
âItâs just, like, a TikTok thing,â you answer.Â
âHm,â is all he replies.Â
Then he takes your hand and guides you back onto the mattress. You meet his gaze hesitantly. The lines around his eyes are a little deeper, just like the furrow between his brows. He doesnât seem angry, just serious.
âI⊠I kind of would prefer it if you didnât think of what we just did as⊠âcrackingâ. Itâs not the word I would use,â he says slowly.
âItâs just a word,â you mutter.Â
âNot to me,â he argues softly. âItâs⊠words have meanings. And cracking sounds like⊠like Iâm doing something to you, not with you. I donât mean to be⊠all old man and, like, police your language. But⊠I donât want you to think of sex with me that way. Or⊠with anyone else for that matter, even though, ideally, I would like this to be a long-term thing.â
His hazel eyes donât leave your face for even a single moment, and itâs almost overwhelmingâif it werenât for the sincerity in them.Â
âIâm sorryâ" you begin, but Jack shushes you.
âNo, sweetheart, I donât- I donât want you to apologize. I just want you to be comfortable with me. I wanna make sure you⊠you feel respected by me,â he explains.Â
âI do,â you reply quickly. âReally. Like, no one else has ever⊠been this kind to me.â
Jackâs face falls.Â
âOh, no, I mean, like⊠youâre a gentleman,â you elaborate.
He shakes his head softly.Â
âNo, baby, Iâm⊠this is⊠this is the bare minimum. Christ.â
Jackâs hands find yours, and he leans in to kiss your forehead. Then he wraps his arms around you.Â
âAt the risk of sounding like your father, I think you kids need to put down your phones and go out in the real world.â
â€ïž just a quick reminder that the best way to support authors on here is to comment and reblog â€ïž â find my masterlist here â
âdream of you from like 1:00 to 4:00
positively and truly sure
nobody's wanted somebody moreâ
jack abbot x fem! reader
summary: dana has watched you and jack circle each other for too long and devises a secret plan to make sure you end up on a date together without either of you expecting it
tags/warning/tropes: this is pure fluff, the pitt but itâs somewhere between a sitcom and a rom-com, speaking of there are SO many references of rom-coms, jack abbot is down bad, idiots in love, donât ask why dana robby and jack are all there at once, reader gets wine drunk a few times, jack abbot being down bad pt 2 because itâs honestly embarrassing, reader is also down bad but way cooler about it, no use of y/n, reader has no established race, brief aesthetic description of reader but itâs vague, swf as per usual
wc: 8.3k
a/n: hi bffs!!! back again with a jack abbot fic! iâm currently posting this from my phone because a storm took my power out so if anythingâs weird, thatâs why :( i wrote this very fluffy fic so of course, now i have to write a very emotional robby fic thatâs coming soon. okay please enjoy - i love your reading your comments! thank you all whoâve been reading my fics so far! hugs and kisses!!!!!!
You turn to find none other than Dana Evans being the one with the absurd question. You're not even entirely sure where she came from. Suddenly she's propped up, hip against the desk, crashing your peace with that certain gleam in her eye that means trouble.Â
This wasn't the first time Dana's complained about your singleness. The way your life consisted of the commute to work, the commute home, a cheesy romance movie, and bed. On the occasional wild day maybe you'd take a trip to a coffee shop, or an in-person trip to the grocery store instead of DoorDash. That is if you were feeling really adventurous. Somehow in those times though you've never managed to have some rom-com meet-cute like in all the movies you watched.Â
"As flattered as I am, I was under the impression you were married!" You dodge not only the question but also her. Turning on your heels, you walk to the leftmost side of the desk, keeping your eyes down.Â
Sure, a date sounds nice in theory. The same way a leading man chasing you through an airport seems nice in theory. But, if it actually happened you'd most likely pepper spray him.Â
"Not me." She says dryly. "Maybe in my younger days though."Â
You give her a sideways glance, which she's already giving you. The thought intrigues you more than you care to say. What you would give to know more about Dana's college days!
"I've got a guy for you."
"Dana, really I'm good. I don't have time to even fantasize about a date right now."
To you, a date was never a fantasy. They just never turned out right. Men would speak over you, or you'd intimidate them and it's a night full of awkward silences and bad company.Â
However, you find the occasional times to fantasize about Jack Abbot.
Your crush on Abbot started slow and accidental really. A night off work for the first time in months. Which of course you spent doing the one thing you love most: turning off the lights, drinking wine in your pajamas, and watching whatever rom-com popped up first in your recommended tab. This night just happened to be Two Weeks' Notice. You'd seen it a thousand times and could probably quote half of Sandra Bullock's monologues.Â
But, there was something different about it this time. Something about the way she was falling in love with her charmingly sarcastic boss. It seemed less like something you'd laugh at and instead it started making perfect sense to you.Â
I mean Sandra Bullock is falling in love with her boss. Why can't you?
Somehow by the second glass of red, Hugh Grant's face somehow started to morph into Jack Abbott's.Â
But, most of all it was the mistake of falling asleep during the fourth glass and the dreams that followed, guest starring a sexy doctor.Â
As quick as this crush started, it was anything but quick to leave. No matter how much you willed it away.Â
Sandra Bullock-esque rom-coms don't happen to people like you. Hot boss or not.Â
"It won't kill you." Dana's arms thud against the counter as she lays them down with purpose.Â
"It might." A voice that belongs to Shen interjects into the conversation you already wish you weren't having. "Have you seen how awkward she gets when hot dads bring their kids in?"
"I do not!" You half-yell. "I'm a professional. I don't think about things like that at work."
"Yeah, and that's why you eye fuck Abb-"Â
"OKAY!" You yell. Prying eyes are on you immediately as your voice cuts through the ED. You give an awkward thin-lipped smile and apologetic wave to the strangers. "Okay. Point received."Â
Now the only fantasy you're having at work is ripping the Dunkin cup from Shen's hand and drenching him in it.Â
"Ignore him." Dana shoos Shen away. He slinks off slurping what's left of his melted iced coffee.Â
You can't miss the small glint in Dana's eye as she bites back a laugh at Shen's accusation. Which is totally false!
"Dinner. That's all I'm asking." Dana pries once again. You shake your head, not even bothering to verbally answer anymore. "An hour, two max."
"Dana when I'm not here I'm sleeping or trying to get all my shit done before I have to be back here. I don't have time."Â
"You have time." She responds insistently.Â
It's almost impressive how she hasn't budged.Â
"Fine. I don't want to make the time then."
"You don't want to go out and just have a free dinner with a handsome guy?" Dana's eyebrows shoot up.
Unfortunately, the idea intrigues you somewhere deep down. That same part of you that smiles and rewinds when the movie finally crescendos with a dramatic declaration of love. But, in reality, the movie would end differently for you. A terrible date with a guy who went to a doctor a few times and now feels confident in his ability to mansplain medicine. No love at first sight for you.Â
"Sounds like hell."
You can't even remember the last time you looked at a man that wasn't on your TV. Well, I mean besides the ones you're forced to see every day. Abbot⊠Who apparently you REALLY look at.
Your mind trails off as he moves from room to room in front of you. That quiet confidence radiating off of him like it always does. UGH, and he's wearing those camo pants tonight. OH. You totally are eye-fucking him aren't you?!
You snap your eyes from him back to Dana immediately. "Tell me about this guy."Â
No part of you really wants this, but you've got to get your mind off Abbott. Fully. You one hundred percent, unequivocally, cannot be crushing on Jack Abbot.Â
"It's a guy I know. He's been single for too long. Like you." She says pointedly. "I think you'll like him. He's good people."Â
"You sure you wanna do this?" It's a genuine question, not a threat. Introducing you to someone could be a bad move on her part. You're not exactly revered as a charmer. "Because, if I don't like him, I'll leave."
You we're strong willed and didn't enjoy wasting your time. There was nothing wrong with it, but some men would disagree. Apparently you could be a quote, "a real ball buster" as your college boyfriend so eloquently wrote in the very text message he dumped you with.Â
As time went on, you came to realize you liked love more in theory or in dreams. You were not cut out to be a rom-com star.Â
"I know." Dana draws out her words, rolling her eyes at you. "But, I have a good feeling."
"What's his name?" You give a defeated sigh.Â
Dana's face lights up with that cocky closed-lip smile she gets when she's won something. She's beaten you down enough and she knows it. Success!
"No names." Leaving no room for rebuttal, she claps her hand flat against the counter to make her point. "I don't want you looking him up."
"Come on-"
"No. You and Santos do that cyber stalking thing and you'll try and find him." She's already turned on her heels before you can get another word out.Â
 "It's not stalking!" You yell after her. "It's the way the world works. Get with the times Dana!"
Well, looks like you just got yourself a date you didn't really want to go on in the first place. But if all goes well you'll fall in love and never think of Jack Abbot as anything more than a boss ever again.Â
Dana surveys the floor, making sure you're nowhere in sight. Luckily for her, you're tied up in a trauma room with a very chatty guest who, based on their facial expression is not very happy with you.Â
His face turns confused for a second, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening before he falls in step.
"You need a date." She says simply.Â
For once in his whole life he's actually speechless. He opens his mouth, but the only thing that comes out is an offended scoff.Â
"When's the last time you've been on a date?" She asks, crossing her arms over her chest.Â
The offended sound comes out once again as he blunders for a second. "I don't know. A year�"
He tried once, maybe twice after his wife passed. Someone who asked him out both times. He'd never actually pursued anything himself. It wasn't exactly that he was resisting, there was just never anyone who caught his attention first.
Then came you. But to him, that was forbidden.
"That's sad."
"I'm doing just fine for myself-"
She holds up her hand for him to stop before he says anything further. "I didn't ask about that. And, I don't believe I want to know that."
Robby laughs from somewhere behind her. Of course, listening in on the conversation. Somehow his ears seem to be everywhere at once. There's no conversation he misses in this hospital.Â
"What?" Jack asks him. The tone of his voice would almost sound offended if he wasn't chuckling.Â
"No, nothing." Robby shakes his head. He clasps a friendly hand on Dana's shoudler. "He's doing fine Dana. Just this morning Myrna offered to flash him."Â
Alright, now they're just being mean.Â
"Tell him he needs a date." Dana elbows Robby. Before Jack can interject, Robby's response is immediate.Â
"Ohhh, you need a date brother."
Jack's outnumbered and somehow they're also beating him at his own game. He has no defenses left. No sarcastic comments that'll stop themÂ
"You know what? Fine." Jack tosses his hands up. "I'll start looking for someone."Â
His eyes rake across the hospital floor like he's looking for someone and before he's even made any conscious effort, they land on you.Â
One day you were a thorn in Jack's side, a new resident he had to get acclimated to. But, very, very quickly you became something else. The worst part was it wasn't even because you were attractive - which you absolutely were. No, it was the first time you yelled at him during trauma. You, a resident, yelling across the table at your attending.
He was gone.Â
Robby and Dana side-eye each other at Jack's obvious stare. He was never a subtle man and even less so when it came to matters of the heart. The number of times Dana's caught him acting like a giddy school boy around you was absurd.
That time you complimented his technique for a chest tube and he walked around like a God for the rest of the night.Â
Or, even worse, that time he let his beard grow and asked you, Dana, and Ellis for your opinions. They both agreed it was fine. - not that they cared much either way. - But, you weren't a fan. The next day he was shaved.Â
It was just something about you. Something he had never seen in someone else. You had no angle, you didn't play games or hospital politics. You came in to work every day, yelled at whoever needed yelling at, and fixed whoever needed fixing. No ass-kissing or pride involved.You had no ego; it was refreshing. If you thought he was acting like a dick you'd tell him. If you thought he was right you'd tell him. Though maybe a little awkwardly because nice feelings weren't really your thing.
"No need!" Dana says with a satisfied grin. "I've got someone for you."
Robby howls a laugh at how perfectly Dana manipulated Jack into this.Â
"Who?" He asks.Â
"Someone I've been wanting to set you up with."
"Set me up with? Like a date?" He says emphatically. "Like I'm twenty?"
"It'll be fine. You'll like her."
"Well, who is it?"
"You don't know her." Her face gives nothing away but for a fleeting second Jack would almost swear that seemed like a lie.Â
"She's smart and beautiful, you'll like her."
"Well, I can't say I don't like those two things." A small smirk creeps up his face. Smart and beautiful was great but he knew someone who fit that description already. Doesn't much matter though, Jack can't remember a time he's seen you show interest in him. And, he was the furthest thing from a pushy man.
Plus, if you wanted him surely you would've said something by now.Â
"She's a little young," Dana trails off. "That okay with you?"
Jack finds himself calculating in his head how old you were. Would that be weird? Wait. First, why would he care? Second, why would it matter?Â
"I mean how-"Â
"Okay, great." Dana claps her hands with a loud boom, ending his sentence for him.Â
She's already exited the conversation before he can ask more of the many pressing questions he has. "What's her name?" He calls out, Robby still beside him, happy to be a non-involved third party to this shitshow.Â
"Secrets." She hollers back not turning around, her hands doing most of the talking.Â
"Looks like you just bought yourself an appearance on the Dating Game." Robby claps Jack's shoulder with an overjoyed smile that crinkles the skin around his eyes.Â
Hopefully she isn't that young because God, they really are old. I mean the Dating Game, really?
Somehow as if by miracle, the ER was the Q word you'd never dare utter. So, for now you'll just say slow. It seemed brighter without so many people clogging the place up, not such a terrorizing place to spend your nights. But, on the other side of quiet and peaceful meant all you could think about was this stupid date with some (probably) stupid guy you don't even want to meet.Â
Even if it was a leisurely night, there was no such thing for Dana. She paced around the giant hospital centerpiece that was the nurses' desk, doing a million jobs that somehow all belonged to her.Â
You came out of nowhere, suddenly popping up on the other side of the desk. "I don't like mansplainers."Â
"Okay, and I don't like the Ravens. What're you telling me for?" It always seemed like her accent had a way of getting thicker when she was stressed or angry.Â
"For the date." You tap your finger to your temple in a duh fashion. "If they start mansplaining anything to me, I'll leave."
Dana doesn't give you a response, just a curt nod. Because she was definitely going around the city looking for the perfect asshole mansplainer to force you into a date with.Â
"And they need to be politically sound. I can't deal with someone who doesn't care about the issues I do."Â
As much as you loved Maid in Manhattan, you always found yourself disliking the leading man just a little too much. That was not a rom-com you wanted to star in, alongside a right-leaning politician.Â
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Dana snaps her head up, shutting you up immediately. It's terrifying when she starts cursing in catholic. "He's a non-mansplaining registered democrat. Does that satisfy you?"Â
"Yes." You answer quietly tucking your lips into a thin line apologetically.Â
She reaches over the desk, gripping your arm and guiding you somewhat forcefully until you're standing under the track board.Â
"Work."Â
Looking down at the iPad in your hand, you said your patient's name to yourself over and over again. You had this terrible habit of knowing everything you needed to know about someone and then coming face to face and forgetting everything, even down to their name. You've done this with friends and patients alike your whole life.Â
"Janet Lawson." You mutter on a loop, scrolling through to see what the nurses had already done for her.Â
"Janet Lawâ Ow."Â
Your forehead is suddenly rebounding off a black T-shirt; underneath it is a weirdly muscular back that's actually managed to rattle your brain around. Of course. Who else wears a black T-shirt and camo pants to work and has this muscular of a build?Â
"Doctor Abbot! Sorry." You laugh to mostly yourself, running a few fingers over your forehead. Why'd that come out like a giggle? You laugh. You don't giggle.Â
"My fault. I should've known better than to stand here when you're running around." He grins.
He's so charming.Â
You drop your eyes back down to the iPad, looking at him made your chest pinch. Why does it feel like you're cheating on him by going on this date tonight? He's your boss! People don't usually feel like they need to divulge their dating life to their bosses right?
"You off this weekend?" He asks, tilting his head to be able to better to see your downcast eyes.Â
"Yep. Played my cards right and got two whole days."
"Got any plans?" He crosses his arms over his chest casually. He always asks about your life. This isn't weird, this is just the only time you've thought about keeping it secret.Â
"Not much." The lie comes out before you can stop it.Â
"Me neither."
"Cool."Â
Jack Abbot could befriend a brick wall and somehow you've just managed to have an awkward interaction with him.Â
"Jack!" Dana's voice echoes between you too. It's so loud and desperate-sounding that he whips his head around immediately.Â
"Yeah?"
"I need you in room 3."
He looks to the whiteboard, eyes scanning over it twice. The hospital's calm tonight, what could possibly be this critical?
"No one's in room 3âŠ"
She doesn't even turn to the whiteboard herself to double-check. "Room 4 then."
"OkayâŠ" He agrees. "Catch you later?" He turns back to you with a sympathetic frown, waiting for your confirmation. Once you nod at him, he pulls himself and his lingering eyes away.
Like clockwork, Abbot finds himself in your orbit once again. He's nearly convinced you have some kind of magnetic force he's not aware of because there's no rational reasoning for him to be trailing after you all the time.Â
Your shift is officially over and if you're not going to fall asleep behind the wheel you're desperately going to need a cup of coffee. As your hand rests flat against the break room door, you feel a much bigger and stronger hand just inches above yours.
"Together again." He laughs. He's so close behind you, you swear you feel the vibrations in your own chest. He pushes the door open, just enough that you have to duck under his arm to step over the threshold.Â
"How was everything with that patient?" You ask, hoping your voice is even and trying your best to keep your face away from him until the heat in your cheeks die down.Â
"Fine. Just cut and dry stress hives. Not sure what the big emergency was."
You plop down in the chair around the small table, the one leg that's off kilter shakes it back and forth for a second. "Weird." You stretch your legs up onto the second chair in front of you, resting until he's done making his coffee.Â
As the coffee maker percolates in the background he considers mentioning the fact that Dana is setting him up on a date. Do attendings and residents ever share that much personal information with each other? Probably not.
What was he even hoping to achieve? That you'd imagine him out with some (probably) hot nurse friend of Dana's and lose your mind with jealousy that he's never once seen you have.Â
It felt weirdly offensive to share his weekend plans with you. He's wanted to ask you out since the second week you worked at this hospital and never has. He couldn't, as the superior here and the man twice your age he wouldn't even let himself think about you too long if he thought it would be disrespectful. It'd be too weird to sit here and talk about his dating life like this. So, he opts for silence.Â
You push your chair out once Abbott's done using the coffee maker, groaning from the pain that's popped up in your spine from standing all day.Â
"Here ya go." He extends a full cup to you just as your feet hit the ground.Â
You stare at the drink for a second. He made you coffee? Coffee you didn't even ask for. He pushes the cup towards you once more, urging you to take it instead of staring at it.
You wrap both hands around the thin cup, feeling the warmth seep through to your palms. "You know how I take my coffee?" You ask, noting the color difference in your cup compared to his.Â
"Yeah, milk and two sugars. I've seen you make it enough times." Wow, the world really was never going to let this crush ease up was it? "I didn't give you any vanilla though. Keep taking it like that and you'll end up in a coma." You laugh, noticing the wide smile on your face in the reflection of your coffee.Â
"Thanks." Your voice loses the harsh edges it usually has.Â
He shrugs as if this was a small gesture and not something that made your entire body feel like it was on fire. He sips the coffee but never takes his eyes off yours. They have a darker look to them as the cup puts a shadow over his face.Â
"Heading out?"
"Yep." You toss your bag over your shoulder. "I'm caught up on all my charts from tonight."
"Yeah, I trust you." His words come out smooth.Â
You know you're so far gone when these upcoming two days off start to feel like punishment more than a much-needed break. Two days without seeing him might be bordering on eternal torture.Â
This is the last time you'll see him until your date with some stranger. You're being so dramatic but it literally feels like you're some Wild West movie heroine seeing her one true love for the last time before heading to her arranged marriage.
Maybe it's just because your fantasy had to end now. You had to live your life, date (annoyingly so), and you could keep falling asleep at night and having Jack Abbot's face pop up in your dreams. It was a fantasy, that's all it was.Â
Abbot likes people, not you. He liked to be friendly, wink at nurses, and flirt with the old ladies who were frequent fliers. Even if you weren't his resident, people like you didn't end up with people like him.Â
Plus, if he wanted you surely he would've said something by now.
"Want me to walk you out?" He asks, always the gentleman.Â
"Sure."
He reaches over and slides the bag from your arm, throwing it over his own shoulder. His arm stays on the small of your back as you pass through the crowded triage area, only dropping when you make it to your car. A small, beat-up Civic you're embarrassed to tell people the year of.Â
"Have a nice vacation." He grins, setting your backpack in your backseat for you.
"Yeah, two days is one crazy vacation."Â
"Well, either way don't miss me too much."
You laugh, your head lulling backwards as the sound reverberates outside in the quiet parking lot. "Might be too hard. Living in a cold, cruel Doctor Abbot-less world."Â
He leans over, enough that you can tell he's not wearing any cologne as the smell of antiseptic wafts off him. And the worst part is, somehow it works. The click of your car door opening is the only thing that draws your eyes away.Â
"Be safe." He says, carefully shutting the car door once you're solidly inside. "Come by if you start missing me too much." He speaks a little louder so you hear him through the sealed window.Â
You give him a thumbs down as your reverse lights come on.Â
He watches you pull out of the parking lot and imagines what that sight would be like more often. Your taillights pulling out of the driveway of his house every day, waving you away while drinking his morning coffee, knowing you'd be back that night.Â
Oh yeah He's going on a date with another woman tomorrow.Â
You stand in front of the mirror in the third outfit of the night. You pull at the fabric, like a toddler. It clings to everywhere you don't want it to. You've got to have help for this.
Where's your quirky best friend sidekick that everyone in the movies has?
To: Santos
From: You
what do you wear on a date?
To: You
From: Santos
show up naked power moveÂ
Unhelpful.Â
A dress feels like too much, but dress pants make you feel like a politician. The place is way too nice for jeans. As Dana specifically told you. You don't even own anything you'd consider a blouse. And to make matters worse, you're beginning to notice you have very little color in your wardrobe.Â
This is agonizing.Â
The outfit you have on will have to suffice, if only because you're running out of room on your floor for discarded clothese.
The long skirt feels less dramatic than a dress but less stiff than pants. This is the nicest shirt you own and the closest thing you'd associate with fancy. All in all, you clean up pretty well. Everything is black like all the other items in your wardrobe. But, Dana requested you wear black since she told your date that's how he'd recognize you. Your mystery man will be in white tonightÂ
Your body collides with your bed as you toss yourself onto it like an angsty teenager. You haven't been on a date in months and the last one you went on lasted an hour before you faked and emergency and left.Â
Katherine Heigl's voice blares through your apartment as 27 Dresses begins auto-playing after whatever you threw on to begin with.Â
What the hell is with these movies and falling in love with your boss?
Rolling onto your back, you're fingers start typing Jack Abbot into the Instagram search bar before you even know what you're doing. It only takes the letter J for his account to come up. You've for sure done this too many time. Maybe Dana's right. This is totally stalking.Â
He has three posts and none of them are his face. He's got a picture of Robby and Dana at some fancy hospital event and two pictures of some scenic locations he visited. He's such an old man. The only thing you can see him in is his profile picture. Much to your dismay, you screenshot and zoom in.Â
He's so handsome and this is such weirdo behavior.
The more you zoom in, the blurrier the photo gets. Right now, you're essentially looking at pixels that vaguely resemble Jack Abbot and even then he's otherworldly handsome. Some selfie from a terrible angle that he no doubt took the moment Instagram prompted him for a profile picture.Â
You scream as the name pops up on the top of your screen, tossing the phone on your bed like it burned you. For a second you actually believe he somehow knows your cyber stalking him right now, but there's no way. On your feet now from the scare, you timidly reach over and in one quick motion flip the phone face up.Â
Abbot:
Have fun on your vacation while the rest of us are working our asses off.Â
You've got to stop reacting to everything he does like some school girl experiencing their first crush. You're more giddy from this stupid text than you are about this date. This is what you're actively trying to avoid!
You click the side button stuffing the phone into your skirt pocket. Yeah, the skirt has pockets. You give yourself one more look in the mirror, closing your eyes and taking three deep breaths to clear your mind.Â
This place is nice just like Dana described. An Italian restaurant that you had to take a taxi to reach. The outside has a deep maroon awning where people waiting on tables are congregating. It's not crowded but there's way more people here than you want to experience a first date in front of.Â
The inside is even nicer. Dark walls and romantic lighting. There's even a band playing from somewhere you cant see, but you recognize the sound of live instruments. The tables are all covered in white cloths. This is far from the restaurants you usually eat at where children color on those paper table runners.Â
"Hi," You approach the hostess more timid than usual, clearing your throat. "I'm meeting someoneâŠ"
Your eyes scan over the many people in the room. Theres way more people seated than you'd hoped. Great, all these people may witness your biggest humiliation tonight. Theres a small, even fancier dining room that's walled in and you wonder if your mystery man is in there.Â
The maitre d responds but your ears are suddenly filled with nothing but the sound of your own heart beat. Your eye's zero in on someone, someone sitting in front of the giant burgundy curtains that drape from floor to ceiling.Â
A very familiar face.
No. Fucking. Way.Â
"Doctor Abbot?" You say standing beside the empty chair at this table for two.Â
His eyes shoot up so fast you're afraid he's going to hurt himself. He looks like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out of his barely parted lips. You're mirroring the same expression back to him. Shock and horror.Â
He stands up from his chair so fast, the table rocks and sends ripples through the expensive water glasses. "What are you doing here?" He asks, hands flat on the table like he needs to prop himself up.Â
"Me?" You say back, clutching the purse strap over your shoulder. "What are you doing here?" You want to dissolve into dust in the huge fancy restaurant that suddenly feels much smaller. This can't be happening.Â
"Oh fuck."Â
You both speak at the same time. Your sentiment is much more verbal than Abbot who had the decency to whisper under his breath.Â
You two go back to staring at each other for another moment. Completely still except for the twitch around Abbots eye. You know your eyes are wider than usual and probably frighteningly so, but you can't make them close. To make matters worse the trumpet crescendos into something romantic from wherever they're playing from. You're a little too busy to look right now.Â
How could this happen?
"I think Dana uhâ" The words die in your throat as soon as they start. You gesture vaguely hoping to fill in the blanks.Â
"Yeah." He speaks gruffly.Â
"Yeah." You parrot the same word back, unsure of what else there even is to say. "I could go." You gesture back to the grand entrance of the restaurant.Â
That's all it took to shake Jack from the shell shocked state he was in. He reaches out before he even thinks much about it. Not a pull, just his palm flat against your forearm making sure you don't bolt.
"No. Were already here." He shrugs like it's simple. "Plus, I need you to stay and help me plan on how to get Dana fired."
You laugh, your shoulders easing finally, dropping from where they were pulled up so tight. The immediate horror of this situation is beginning to dissipate between the two of you. Despite the knot in your stomach, you actually feel a little giddy. I mean, you've dreamed about this for a long, long time. Maybe it wouldn't be awful of you to at least try and enjoy yourself.Â
"We might as well stay and eat." He picks up his menu and gestures to the chair that's meant to be yours.Â
"Might as well?"Â You repeat back with a sarcastically sensual tone. "Well, with an offer that romantic how could I refuse?"
He walks around the table, eyes on you the entire time. He pulls out your chair without even looking at it. When he puts his arm on the small of your back to guide you onto the seat, your actually worried your knees might buckle.Â
"You know what I meant." The breath from his nose tickles your ear as leans in close to tuck your chair in.Â
"Can I get you two started with anything?" The waiter appears from the kitchen, dressed just as nicely as half the patrons in here. Jack gives him a polite just a second gesture. You've both been far too distracted to look at the menu.
"You want wine?" He asks, flicking his eyes from the menu to you. "I mean⊠we are on a date." Theres a small smile in the corner of his mouth when he says it, almost humorous like he's enjoying saying that in the presence of the server.
A date. Officially a date.
"Yeah, I'll do a glass."
"A bottle of the house red." Jack speaks to the waiter. A bottle? Big spender!Â
The wine the waiter returns with is in expensive glassware. The stems are crystal thin and make you feel like you're back in the OR holding a delicate medical instrument.
Jack makes a polite declining gesture as the waiter goes to fill his glass. "None for me, thanks."
"You're not having any?" You ask, lowering the glass from your lips, suddenly feeling embarrassed of the large sip you've already taken.Â
"I've got work tonight. Not everyone has the weekend off like you." He laughs. Oh yeah. It was only 5:30 of course he'd be heading to work after this. Always saving lives.Â
"You didn't need to order all that then." You gesture to the still mostly full bottle the server left behind. "I'm not gonna drink a whole bottle myself."Â Not in front of him at least!
"Take it home then." He shrugs. Damn that's sexier than it needed to be. He orders one of the nicest bottles of wine, doesn't have any for himself, and then tells you to keep it. "I know how much you like your wine.Â
"You look nice." He crosses his arms on top of the menu resting on the table so there's nothing that could possibly distract him from you. His words are genuine but a little stiff. He hasn't complimented someone on anything outside of a medical context in a while.
"Thanks " You actually smile. looking down at the fancy outfit you were so hyper critical of in the mirror. "I wouldn't get used to it though."
"You clean up nice yourself." You force out. Not because it wasn't true, it very much was. But, it's always felt awkward to you to compliment someone.Â
"Feels weird." He tugs at the black tie resting on top of his white dress shirt. It was quite the site. Under the warm lights of the dining room, at certain angles the muscles under his shirt were highlighted perfectly, especially his arms.
Jack however is more caught of guard by your new look than you are of his. Your hair is fixed and resting on your shoulders in waves instead of pulled back and frizzy from a scrub cap. I mean, you looked beautiful the other way, but he didn't know this was an option. And your clothes. It was few and far between that he saw you in anything but scrubs and certainly never anything fancy like this. Your scrubs were loose and unflattering. These clothes were tight and highlighted all your features well. You'd been hiding all this? But, maybe that's for the better because he wouldn't be able to survive this look day to day.Â
"Would you judge me if I had another glass?" You have a small smile just on the corner of your mouth. Your stemware was getting emptier and emptier as the conversation went on.
"I'm not your boss tonight." He chuckles, filling up the glass for you. He holds your eyes when he says it, like it's important to him that you remember that.
"Alright. Let's be honest with ourselves." You finally laugh out, shaking your head. "This is weird." The wine coursing through you is making it a lot easier to say whatever you're feeling. Plus the small drink you had back home to pre game that you're not going to bring up.Â
Thankfully, he laughs too. "Yeah. I didn't imagine I'd be sitting in front of you tonight."
"Yeah. I certainly wasn't expecting Doctor Abbot." You gesture widely towards him. "⊠I should probably drop the "Doctor" on a date right."
"Yeah probably." He nods. "Just Jack is fine."Â
You're stomach flips. It's silly, something as simple as a name change getting you this worked up.
"Jack." You test it out, turning the name over in your head a few times. It just felt so intimate for some reason. You've known him as Doctor Abbot for so long, now you get to learn Jack.
"So, Jack" You laugh, using the name one more time now that you've been awarded the permission. "I was expecting Dana to set me up with an Orthopedic surgeon I'd hate or something." You laugh. If your relationships with the Ortho team at work was anything to go on, that date certainly wouldn't have gone well.Â
He laughs loudly in the dining room full of people talking softly below the music. "Yeah, God help us all if she did that. I was expecting a nurse or a lawyer or something. Not my resident."
"But, I'm glad she didn't." He says at a lower register.
"Wait!" You completely skip over the romantic thing he said, your brain already locked onto a minute detail you just thought of. "You texted me before I left the house."Â
"Yeah? So?"
"So?!" You scoff at him, but you're laughing too much for it to be perceived as upset. "So, you texted me before you thought you we're going on a date with some woman."
He just shrugs. "I was thinking about you."
Your cheeks burn hot and you have to roll your eyes to try and get some of your cool demeanor back. "That's crazy."
"Well, it doesn't matter now does it."
Being on a date with Jack is even nicer than you imagined it could be. You've barely lifted a finger tonight. He pulled out your chair for you, he refills your glass for you.Â
Yes, you're now a quarter through your third.
From anyone else, you'd probably get a little annoyed with this, but there's something romantic about the way Jack does it. He's not smothering or chauvinistic about it, just someone who wants to care for you.Â
He really is like a man from a movie.Â
By the time they drop your food off at the table, you're enjoying yourself more than you ever have on a date. He cuts into the steak while telling you the story of the first patient he ever had, which actually makes you snort.Â
"My first patient at PTMC bit me." You laugh, nodding emphatically as you do. The third glass of wine has definitelyloosened you up. Enough to even reach across the table and put your hand on his arm when you laugh.
"Oh yeah! The one with the suppository." He points the end of his fork in your direction as he remembers.Â
You make a sound of dissatisfaction between your teeth, scrunching up your face. "Let's avoid saying suppository on a date."
"Fair enough." He laughs, covering his mouth with his napkin. "Man, I thought you were gonna kill that guy."Â
"I remember telling Robby when you first started, you we're gonna drop the night crews patient satisfaction scores by half." He shakes his head fondly.
"What?!" You laugh, dropping your mouth open with a jokingly offended expression.Â
"You have a real mean streak to you." He shrugs truthfully, but he smiles when he does. He loves that about you.Â
"I do not." You roll your eyes, the mean streak showing through clearly. "And, I could say you're not as charming as you think you are."Â
He doesn't miss a beat. "Yeah I am."Â
Yeah he is.Â
You pretend to care about his accusations some more, but he can see the smile you can't wipe off your face. "I can't believe you talked shit about me to Robby." You shake your head. "And to think I actually liked you when I first started. You were my favorite Attending."Â
"Yeah?" He quirks his eyebrow up, somehow looking even more handsome with that smug sideways smile.Â
"Yeah I did."
"Did it wear off?" He asks, leaning back, tilting his head as he looks at you.Â
"Nope."
The words hangs there a moment too long. You expect him to make a joke, tell you that you have good taste, or that he was the obvious choice, but he doesn't. Instead he just looks at you, his smug grin changing into something much softer.Â
"Good to know." His voice is maybe as tender as you've ever heard it. Like your statement meant more to him than he's letting on.Â
Jack's already reaching into his pocket for his wallet before the check hits the table cloth. In fact, he doesn't even let it sit there. He takes it from the waiters hand so there's no argument about who's paying.Â
"I can cover my half." You offer anyways, hand digging around in your purse under the table. This would not be the first date a man expected you to go dutch on.
"No you can't." He rolls his eyes. He knew you'd offer no matter how obvious he made it that you weren't paying this bill. It was just in your nature to be fiercely independent. But, he was here now. "I don't make a habit of asking women out and making them cover the bill."
"Technically you didn't ask me out⊠Dana did." You raise your eyebrows in a challenge.Â
He makes a sound somewhere between a huff and a laugh. "Either way, you're not paying."
Jack opts for cash, pulling out a few bills that you try and count up so you total how much he's spent on you tonight. You can't make out if a few pieces are twenties or fifties, but based on the wad alone it must be a lot.Â
"Fine. I'll get the next one." You're eyes widen a little as you catch what you said, your words coming way too freely with your tipsy-ness. "I mean⊠not, or, If- you know." You flubb, your hands moving quickly in front of you.
"No you won't. But, you can offer, again."
He stands first, extending his arm to you like the gentleman he's been all night. The sleeve of your jacket catches the chair as you stand making you wobble on your already slightly uneven footing. "Alright, let's get you out of here before you hurt yourself." He laughs. His reassuring hand stays flat against the small of your back, guiding you through the beautiful dining room and into the cool night air.Â
Jack stands under the awning with you, shoulder to shoulder as he waits for your ride to arrive. Before he has to drag himself back to work and away from you. Through the window, you can still hear the bands instruments playing, on the high notes it rattles the glass just barely.Â
"I love this song." You gasp, leaning against the wall and physically feeling the song course through you. Jack listens intently for a second, making out what you're hearing. He jogs his memory and remembers having heard the songs a few times. Something by Louie Armstrong; there was no mistaking that voice. La vie en rose that was it!
Jack stays silent, listening to the song alongside you. He doesn't close his eyes like you do. To be honest, he's far more interested in you than the song. This was what he's thought about so many times. Not this exact scenario, but things like it. You in domestic situations, calm, happy. With your eyes still shut, he roams his eyes over every part of your face without fear of being caught.Â
The slope of your nose, down to the curve of your lips. You had a prominent cupids bow that made your lips look sharp in a way he could never stop thinking about. Your eyelashes that now fluttered along your under eye. He wasn't sure in this moment if you've ever looked more beautiful.Â
"You know," He says quietly, making sure you we're still able to hear your song over this words. "all thing's considered I think this was a pretty good date."Â
You peek one eye open, flickering it over to him with a smile. "So we are calling it a date?"
"Yeah." He grins back at your silly looking one-eyed expression."I mean that's what it was wasn't it?"
"Just making sure." You relax again, back to closing your eyes. You can hide the gleam in your eyes by shutting them, but you can't hide the smile on your face.Â
"But," Jack starts his sentence quietly, devoid of that usual sarcasm he carries through every word. "I was always under the impression good dates usually end with a kiss."
Both your eyes open now, quickly. You stay leaned against the wall, putting a few fingers over your mouth to try and cover the stupidly giddy grin. You coyly nod, eyes looking back and forth like you're thinking hard. He crosses his arms over his chest as he waits for whatever response this could possibly lead to.Â
"That does check out." You laugh, one finger tapping on the side of your mouth in fake thought. "That's usually how all the movies end."
"Yeah?" He mutters close to your mouth, settling his hands on either side of your face. You floss your lip in between your teeth, not even that hiding the grin. "Yeah."Â
La vie en rose crescendos in the background as Jacks lips finally connect with yours. It's perfect. It's like a movie. Like a really perfect rom-com. He's not careful, but he's not aggressive. You can feel how long he's wanted to do this in the way he swallows every breath that leaves your mouth. Your hands trail up his arms, finally feeling how toned they actually are after wondering what they'd feel like under your fingers every time they flexed in the OR.Â
You're sure you're getting stares from a few concerned citizens along the sidewalk but you couldn't care less. You feel that same smile grow on his lips as you press a hand to his chest. You're reminded of the scene in The Princess Diaries and swear your leg almost kicks up just the same.
He pulls back for no other reason than breathing which he's almost sure he could live without if he could do that a few more times. But, before he can go too far you chase him for one more peck which he reciprocates with just as much enthusiasm. Your hand is still on his chest and now white knuckle gripped against his tie.
"Yeah pretty good date." You repeat the sentiment, any ability to form new thoughts left your head the moment he kissed you. You smooth down his tie with one hand, straightening out the wrinkles your fist caused. He stops you, enveloping your one hand with both of his, pressing his lips along your knuckles. "I'm glad it was with you."
Once your taxi pulls up, you feel like lying and claiming you never called for it. But you have no choice, Jack's got work and you're under strict doctors orders (Doctor Jack Abbot) to rest and enjoy your one weekend off.Â
"Text me when you get home." He says, shutting the taxi door with you on the other side, painfully. "And, swing by the hospital if you have any more wine. We may need to get you on a saline drip." You laugh way too loudly in the enclosed space of the cab. You hold the wine bottle by the neck, showing it off.Â
"Goodnight Jack." You say elbow resting on the sill of the rolled down window, smiling up at him. Jack. Not Doctor, just Jack.Â
You're phone vibrates in your pocket a few minutes down the road into the silent cab ride. The notification disrupts your staring out the window with a smile that was starting to hurt your cheeks. You figure it must be Jack, way too worried about you commuting home alone and already checking in, but it's not.
Summary: Nothing keeps Jack younger than having you on his lap
Warnings || smut, P in V, unprotected sex, implied age gap (Jack is 50 and reader is 30) oral (f!receiving), creampie, rough sex, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, spitting, bit of angst in the beginning
A/N: well the itch isnât going away so, I wrote again. Hope yaâll enjoy this too!!
Jack doesnât think about the age gap as often as he used to. Before, heâd lie awake, troubled by the two decades between you.
At 50, he worries whether he really is a partner you can live life to the fullest with or is he just tying you down to him, a widowed veteran whoâs been battered and bruised.
A pretty, young thing like you still has her whole life ahead of her. He wonders if youâre settling for him when really, you deserve the world.
While Jack hasnât exactly made these fears known to you, somehow you still manage to reassure him.
âYouâre it for me, Jack⊠I love you, all of you.â
When you talk like that, all earnest and sweet, everything just melts away.
Still, there are moments when he canât get behind the whole âage is just a numberâ thing, especially when he finds himself struggling to keep up with you and your libido.
Youâre on his lap, fucking yourself on his cock. The room smells of sex. Youâre sweaty, and cock drunk. While Jack feels the ache in his bones, he canât complain when youâre so pretty making a mess on him.
Itâs been hours. Jack already wrung out a few orgasms from you with his tongue and fingers, but youâre still going. Nails digging on his shoulders, thereâs tears in your eyes as you near another release.
âFuck, yes! I-Iâm close, Jack- Ahâ
âYeah, baby? You gonna cum on this cock again?â While his tone is teasing, in reality Jack was fighting tooth and nail not cum before you.
At this point heâs shooting blanks, resisting the overstimulation as you clench down on him, hard.
When his thumb finds your swollen clit, you scream. Jack fucks his cum into you, forcing you to take the previous loads and his fat cock.
His cum is leaking out of you as you bounce even harder, feeling him all the way in your gut.
âMmm my little minx⊠you like fucking yourself on daddyâs cock? Tell me, baby, whose pretty pussy is this?â
Youâre struggling to form words, throat dry as you chase your high. A harsh smack soon reaches your ass.
You yelp as Jack hits you again, his impatience growing at your lack of a response.
âI-Iâm yours!â
His spit lands where youâre connected, adding wetness as he roughly circles your clit once again.
This has you tensing up, you can taste the precipice of your orgasm.
âNot what I asked, sweetheart. I said, whose pussy is this?â While it may look like Jack is still in charge of the situation, heâs panting, seconds away from another mind blowing orgasm.
âY-Yours! This pussy is yours- fuck! Mâgonna cum!â
âGo ahead, baby. Make a fucking mess. Let your daddy fill you up again.â
Your knees begin to buckle as your orgasm comes crashing into you, calling out Jackâs name.
You spray out against him, your whole body spasming as your climax overcomes you.
âThere you go. Youâre so good to me, baby. Fuck!â Jack is coming for the last time, completely spent with the rounds you pulled from him.
Youâre collapsed against his chest when you say, âKnew you still had it in you, old man.â
Jack rolls his eyes as you giggle at him.
âWhat? I told you so. Youâve got nothing to worry about, Jackie.â
âYou say that now, but Iâm pretty sure Iâll feel this tomorrow.â
You laugh as Jack grumbles.
âWe have the entire day tomorrow to rest. We can just stay in and cuddle.â
âKnowing you? Youâll find a way on my lap again, little minx.â
âHmmm how else am I supposed to keep you young?â
Summary: Not having seen you in a week has Jack on edge, and to add to his frustration, a certain doctor thinks he can touch whatâs his
Warnings || smut, P in V, unprotected sex, implied age gap (Jack is 50 and reader is 30) oral (f!receiving), creampie, rough sex, daddy kink, jealous!Jack is a warning, inaccurate depiction of a hospital workplace
A/N: I had an itch that needed scratching so I wrote it myself. Hope yaâll enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!
Jack had been in a mood for what felt like forever. Your schedules werenât lining up so the last week or so had been just texts and short phone calls.
Being doctors, you both understood what was demanded of each other. Him as an ER attending and you as a pediatrician, work life balance wasnât exactly something either of you excelled in.
But when things became official, bit by bit youâd drawn boundaries at work, now refusing to compromise time you couldâve spent with each other.
Still, duty calls, and for over a week, Jack hasnât seen your face unless it was through a phone screen. Not being able to kiss or touch you in any way has made him an even bigger grouch.
Truth be told, he was loosing it. Heâs exhausted and pent up to the point heâd consider giving up his other leg if it meant spending even a little time with you.
So when his rare day off finally comes along, heâs already making the trip to the pediatric ward. With your coffee on one hand and a small excited smile on his face, he wishes the elevator would go faster. He canât waste even a second.
Jack is already planning the evening in his head. Heâll pick up a few steaks and cook it at his place, not forgetting to grab your favorite wine too. Maybe youâd watch a movie, but heâd probably feign interest because all he really wants to do is make out with you on his lap.
Jack is busy playing out scenarios in his head when heâs stopped dead in his tracks. At the end of the hall is you, hair in a loose bun, looking every bit as beautiful even with the fatigue weighing you down. But itâs not the sight of you that has him on pause, rather the hand thatâs running up and down your arm.
That blonde pediatric surgeon youâve introduced to him some time ago is offering you a smile that looks fond, but Jack knew better. He knew that behind those eyes was an attraction you were oblivious to. You offered a polite smile back, mind only half registering what your colleague was saying.
Almost as if you had a sixth sense specific to his presence, you had turned your head, bright smile instantaneous as you watched Jack walk closer to where you stood.
Taking a few steps to close the distance faster, you were quick to wrap your arms around him.
âJackieâŠâ you murmured as you slanted your head to bury your face in his embrace.
Standing there, finally having you in his arms, the animosity that had started creeping up his veins slowed to a stop, albeit momentarily. He pressed you harder against him, communicating his longing through the hug both of you clearly needed.
Only when an awkward cough came from behind, did you reluctantly release your boyfriend.
âJack, you remember Dr. Adams.â
If looks could kill, lord knows Dr. Adams wouldâve dropped dead on the sterile floor. Jack only offers a small nod of his head in reply.
âAh Dr. Abbot. Nice to see you again. I was just telling Dr. L/N what a great job sheâd been doing with-â
âIâm sure she did. My girl has always been amazing at what she does.â
Your eyebrows crease at that. While Jack has always been a fan of pet names, itâs the possessiveness in his tone that has you tilting your head.
âWell, thatâs true. Just the other day, with her patient, she-â
âActually, I did have something I needed her to look at downstairs. So if you donât mindâŠâ
Jack was quick to intertwine his fingers with yours, walking back to the elevator with you in tow, not sparing doctor blondie a second glance.
Jack definitely missed this. Youâre panting and whining as he sucks on your throbbing clit, fighting the urge to lock your thighs around his head.
It took him less than 10 minutes to drag you to his truck in the hospital parking lot and even less time to have you screaming his name.
âThatâs it⊠my pretty baby, let me see you cum on daddyâs tongueâ
His fingers have replaced his tongue, twisting them upward and curling them just right to hit that spot while his teeth lightly graze your sensitive clit.
âI-I, Jack! Please- Ah âm gonna cumâ you squeal as he slaps your clit, sending shocks through your body, his stubble further adding to your overstimulation.
âCâmon pretty girl, let go for me,â his words have your muscles seizing up as you squirt into his awaiting mouth.
While he has you catching your breath, Jack is impatiently taking his pants off. You watch with wide eyes as he strokes his hard cock, tip an angry red, desperate to sink into your heat.
Heâs gentle when he lifts you unto his lap, smiling softly at your flushed face as you settle your knees on either side of him.
Jack canât wait for long, not when your soft hands have wrapped around his length, lifting your thighs up as you sink down on him slowly.
You let out a broken moan at the stretch of his cock. Itâs been awhile, the frustration and impatience catching up to you as well.
More than a week without his touch and your pupils are dilating as you watch Jack throw his head back as you take him deeper inside.
âFuck, there you go, my baby girl, so perfect, all mineâ you mewl at his praise, wrapping your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself.
Thereâs a pool of your slick between the two of you as he rubs on your clit again with a rough thumb.
Jack bounces you softly at first, relishing in your little gasps as you adjust to his size. His length has always been a challenge, and your time apart makes him extra gentle with you despite the animalistic urge to lift you up and slam you back down his cock till he hits the very back of your insides.
He leans forward to suck and kiss your tits as you begin bouncing faster on his cock. He lifts one hand before landing a harsh smack on your ass.
âThatâs it, baby⊠youâre so good to me, princessâ
The pressure deep in your belly is overwhelming as Jack thrusts up to match your movements. The kiss you share is desperate and filthy. Your cries filling the small space.
âYou going to cum for me? Yeah, baby câmon- make a mess on my cock,â
That sends you over the edge. The absolute filth that comes out of Jackâs mouth is downright sinful. He has you shaking in his hold, coming hard for a second time.
Jack doesnât take long after that. His hold on your waist is bruising as he keeps you rooted to the hilt while he cums inside you.
Youâre breathing heavily as you collapse on his chest, your insides still warm from his release. Neither of you speak as you revel in the bliss of your orgasms.
Jack is planting soft kisses to your neck and shoulder when you finally find your voice.
âThis was what you wanted to show me?â You teased. âThe backseat of your truck? For you to fuck me in?â
Jack grumbles as you giggle.
âI was gonna invite you over to my place. Cook you dinner, ya know? Just wanted to spend time with my girlâ he whispered the last part as he nuzzled into your neck
âI was gonna wait for you till your shift ended but then doctor Ken had his hands all over youâ Jack continued.
âDoctor Ken?â
âThat Ken doll looking, blonde idiotâ
âOh my god⊠are you,â Jack groans and hides his face deeper in your neck.
âYouâre jealous of Dr. Adams?â Your tone carries your amusement at the situation.
âHeâs obviously into you,â Jack whines. âLooking at you with hearts in his eyes, all lovey dovey and shitâ
Youâre laughing harder now, relishing in the way Jack is blushing at your delight.
âYou know you have nothing to worry about right?â You pull Jackâs head back so heâs looking into your eyes.
âDr. Adams is just a colleague, if anything, him acting that way towards me knowing I have you just makes me want to set the record straight with him.â
âYou sure I canât just punch him?â
âDr. Abbot!â You gasp. âThatâs no way to treat the other doctors,â Your face gives way to a teasing smile.
âDoctors arenât supposed to fuck each other on the job either but thatâs never stopped usâ
You slap his chest at the crude remark and Jack can only laugh at your embarrassment.
âYour shift ends in a few minutes so I think we can go straight to my place, sweetheartâ
âAt least let me get my things before we leaveâ
âMmmm youâre gonna walk back to peds and say goodbye to doctor blondie while my cum drips out of you? Thatâs so fucking hot, I-â
Summary: You and Jack were friends with benefits until you caught feelings. You were afraid that he wouldn't want more so you broke up with him. Now months later, you end up in his ED. (1.3k)
Warnings: medical inaccuracies, implied age gap, use of pet names, swear words, alcohol/drinking, twisted ankle, like one kiss, past fwb relationship
"Where are you taking me?" Your words slightly slur as you get hauled out of the ambulance.
Girls night out didn't go exactly as you planned. You definitely didn't see the two broken heels and painfully twisted ankle with scraped palms in it.
You didn't even want to have the ambulance called but the bar manager insisted after your embarrasing fall. So here you, wherever that is.
"PTMC." The paramedic says, wheeling you in.
His answer sobers you up a little bit. You wish they'd taken you anywhere else but there.
"Can't you take me elsewhere?" You ask with an annoyed groan.
"Don't worry, they are great with insurance handling even if you don't have one." The paramedic immediately jumps to conclusion and reassures you. But you don't correct him, your real reason is far more embarrassing.
They wheel you into one of the empty rooms as you try to subtly hide your face. You've had a few drink but you are sober enough to know that this is Jack's ED. And Jack's night shift.
Jack Abbot the man you'd been hooking up with (like friends with benefits kinda thing), until you caught feelings and disappeared from his life without explanation.
-
You anxiously wait for a doctor to take your case while you pray for it not to be Jack. You let out a sigh of relief as kind eyed doctor with a coffee in hand enters.
You don't even need to explain yourself to him, he takes one look at you and sends you upstairs for an x-ray with an amused smile.
You are almost at the elevator when you hear your name. Sneaking around the ED without Jack noticing clearly isn't possible.
He quickly walks up to you, assessing you with wide eyes. You take one look at him and you start to forget why on earth you ended things with him. He looks so good, better than good and your tipsy brain has a problem processing it.
"Hi." Is all you squeak out, checking him out very not subtly.
"What are you doing here, sweetheart?" The pet name escapes him before he can even think about it. Old habits die hard, you know.
He moves a little closer to you, his gaze settling on the strappy dress that has ridden high up your thighs. He reaches out and discreetly tugs it down. Your breath hitches and you strain to remember how to speak.
"Getting an x-ray." You mumble out, only half sure that Jack is actually standing in front of you and that your mind isn't just making him up.
"Shit, okay, yeah. Who's the assigned doctor?" Jack asks the nurse pushing the gurney, clearly he's not asking you when he can see your hazy expression.
"Shen." She tells him and Jack nods.
"Okay, I'll come find you when you get the picture done, okay?" This time he is asking you, his whole focus on you.
"Yeah, okay." You say sheepishly. You'd expect he wouldn't want anything to do with you. So why is he still being such a gentleman? It makes no sense.
-
The ankle is not broken, thankfully. But it was pretty badly dislocated so there's some bruising, it's what Dr. Shen tells you. He's gonna get some intern to get you a boot for it so it heals more quickly.
You're practically sober at this point, seeing Jack sobered you up. The twisting feeling that's been gnawing at you for months suddenly intensified when you saw him. But you have no right to feel this longing for him, not when you were the one to end things with him. Still, it leaves an open wound in your heart.
The door opens again, and you expect either Dr. Shen or one of the interns to come fix your ankle, but it's Jack who enters.
"Hey." He says, voice deep as he carries the ankle boot under his bulging bicep. You have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything.
"I thought...Dr. Shen said that an intern would do it." You stumble over your words as he puts the gloves on and sits on the stool by your very much swollen ankle.
"Well, I can do it instead." He tells you, and it's not really an explanation. "May I?" He asks before he starts touching your ankle with gentle hands.
"Why?" You question softly because you know he has no reason to take care of you like this.
"Because even if we aren't together anymore, I still care about you." His words are honest, and it strikes you right into your already gaping heart.
"Oh." You say quietly because his words honestly take you by surprise. No man has ever ended things on a good terms with you or you with him. But you shouldn't be that surprised, not when it comes to Jack. He's always been more than perfect and respectful, one of the reasons why you had to end things before you got too deep into your feelings for him.
But did he say together? His words slowly load in your mind, and confuse you. "Wait, what...what do you mean together?"
Jack frowns at you, looking at you like you might have hit your head, too. "What do I mean? You broke up with me, but there's no hard feelings, sweetheart. I'm a man, you made a decision and if I couldn't be okay with it then I should probably seek some help." Jack chuckles but you can hear it's not a genuine laugh.
"Broke up with you?" Your face goes white. "But we weren't even together, I thought we were just, you know, letting some steam off together."
It's Jack's turn to frown even as his hands don't stop working on your ankle. "Sweetheart, I took you out on all those dates. Bought you flowers, presents. Practically sang praises to you....And you thought we were just, what, fucking?"
Your cheeks start impossibly burning. Because yeah, that's exactly what you thought. "But we both agreed we weren't looking for anything serious Jack. What was I supposed to think? You never said or asked me to be more."
"I thought it was obvious." He says softly, and you just shakes your head at it. Because no, it wasn't obvious, you wouldn't have ended things with him if it was.
"Wait, did you end it because you thought that I wouldn't want more?" Jack asks, and I guess your baffling realisation of it must have shown on your face.
"Yes." You state plainly, no beating around the bush. Your eyes dip to the wedding band still on his finger.
A devastating expression fills Jack's face. He stays quiet for a few minutes as he finishes with the boot.
"There's no limit to love, sweetheart. I will forever love her. But I wanted you in my live so much, still do." He confesses.
"Me too. I just didn't want you to do something you weren't ready for, Jackie."
He scoots closer to and tentatively takes your hand in both of his. "My god, angel. I think we've both been a bit stupid and blind."
That finally earns him a smile from you because yeah, you wasted so much time alone when you could have just been together the whole time. "Do you really want me as-as your girlfriend? Even after everything?"
"Pathetically so, sweetheart."
That is an answer enough for you. You grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer to you. He immediately follows your train of thoughts and plants his mouth over yours.
The kiss is not rushed, it represents the long months of longing and waiting and it leaves you lightheaded and breathless. But you don't want it to stop, matching every move of his lips for yours.
Jack is the one to finally pull away as you chase his lips for more. "Easy, easy, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere. We'll go have breakfast together and then I'll take you home, yeah? What do you say?"
"Yes please, Jack." You whisper with a happy grin.
"Perfect. I'm going to get your discharge papers and then we'll go and we'll talk some more."
He leaves with a light smile and a promise of an honest conversation, squeezing your thigh as he goes.
