Bucky was trying-really trying-to hold it together.
You were already moaning beneath him, legs wrapped tight around his waist, your body slick with sweat and your cunt squeezing him like a fist with every thrust. He’d been taking his time, keeping it controlled, steady, even though he was right on the edge. Even though every part of him wanted to ruin you.
He was close. So close.
And then your hand slid down between your bodies.
At first, he thought you were going to touch yourself, chase your orgasm with him still deep inside you--and fuck, the idea made his hips jerk.
But then he felt it. The shift. The drag of your fingers at the base of his cock.
And suddenly--
Your hand pushed his hips to still and the condom was gone.
Bucky’s eyes snapped open, he ripped away from the crook of your neck, where he planted himself to stay grounded, his rhythm faltering, heart slamming into his ribs as you tossed it aside like it didn’t matter. He stared down at you, stunned, panting. “What the hell are you doing babydoll?”
Your voice was soft, breathless, a little ruined. “I want you.”
“I’m already inside you,” his brows pinched as he growls, but it came out shaky, unsure.
You pulled your legs up higher around his hips and looked him in the eyes. “I want all of you,” you whispered. “I want you to come inside me.”
That was it. That was the moment he fucking lost it.
He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t give himself time to think. He slammed back into you--bare, raw, thick and hot--and the sound he let out wasn’t human.
“Christ, baby, fucking--I--” he groaned, the stretch hotter now, slicker, real. “You feel--God, you-- you--this has to be heaven.”
Your mouth fell open in a moan, hands digging into his back, pulling him down until he's practically laying on you. Your cunt clamped down around him like your body was begging to be filled, and Bucky fucking snapped.
His head was spinning, ears ringing as he started moving again, but there was no control left. No rhythm. Just need. “You want this?” he growled, breath hot against your jaw. “Want me to fuck you like this? Fill you up ‘til it’s leaking out of you?”
You couldn’t even form words. Just nodded, already trembling underneath him. “You’re mine,” he snarled. “My good girl, taking it raw. You don’t wanna stop me, do you? Don’t wanna go back?”
You whimpered, “Never.”
That's what did it.
His thrusts turned frantic--deep, punishing, desperate. You were crying out, clinging to him like your life depended on it, and Bucky was unraveling above you. Every time you clenched around him, it pulled him deeper, wrecked him harder. He was ready to start sobbing at the sensation "Baby fuck you're milking this cock I---" his head falls forward resting against your forehead.
You whine and whisper against him, "You're gonna make me cum Jamie"
His eyes glossed over completely, “Cum for me princess, cover my cock with your cum before You make me cum” he panted. “You want that? You want my come inside you?”
Your legs tighten around his waist as you moan louder from his words your breathing gets caught in your chest as your tremble against him, “Yes, Bucky--I James...James please.”
He slammed in one last time and came hard, buried to the hilt, cock twitching as he spilled inside you--thick, hot, so much you could already feel it dripping out around him.
He stayed there, chest heaving, forehead pressed to yours, both of you shaking with the aftershocks.
Neither of you spoke for a long moment.
Then your fingers brushed his cheek. “You okay?” He blinked. Let out a breathless, wrecked little laugh. “You just broke me,” he whispered. “Fuck completely broke me baby.”
And when you kissed him-soft, slow, full of everything you couldn’t say-he realized you’d meant to.
You wanted him wrecked. And you’d get that side of him. Every. Night after this.
♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎
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Summary: You’re helping the Fantastic Four create a strategy for a new threat, and your boyfriend Johnny is bored out of his mind. He decides to try and fire you up to heat up the meeting.
Warnings: dom!Johnny, hair pulling, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap<3), dirty talk, prob lightly ooc Johnny but it’s okay lol
No spoilers for The Fantastic Four First Steps! It takes place during Doomsday (hopefully <3)
The new threat in New York has both your team, The New Avengers, and your boyfriend’s, The Fantastic Four, working together strenuously to plot a strategy to save the city. Everyone’s working hard, putting their ideas together and talking amongst their teams to discuss the best course of action. The New Avengers, (or Thunderbolts, Bob still doesn’t know which exactly to call your group), are at the Watchtower, going over their own plans. As for you? You’re at the Baxter Building relaying your own team’s information with the Fantastic Four, working alongside them to merge both routes together to tweak some small bumps around. It’s all very, very important, and you’re extremely focused and intrigued.
And Johnny couldn’t be more bored.
He’s sat in the chair directly across from where you stood, his eyes not leaving you. You’re standing between Reed and Sue, the squeaking of his marker making Johnny close his eyes in disagreement. It’s so antagonizing just.. knowing each frantic erase meant adding more time to the meeting. You felt heat on your back, sending a shiver through your body. Ben glances at you, opening his mouth to comment on your sudden movement, but shut his mouth. Maybe you just got a chill?
Your eyes flicker up as Reed spoke, looking at Johnny. He’s slouched in the chair, legs spread with his head tilted to the side a little. One elbow is propped up on the armrest, fiddling with a paperclip, and the other arm is laid on his lap lazily. His eyes are locked, glaring as he focused on you. He looked like he commanded the room, he radiated power. Power he used on you.
Reed hums, another idea coming to him, because of course it is. He’s only the smartest man in the universe. “So, if we take this route, we run the risk of getting intercepted from the one way exit. It’s easy and secure until we get there. Anyone have any ideas they would like to add?”
You cleared your throat, preparing to propose another idea, “We could split up. If we get intercepted, at least it wouldn’t be all of us. This way, the others could come around and hit them from behi-,” your voice catches, cutting you off as warmth caresses your inner thigh. Your eyes closed, mouth snapping shut to prevent yourself from moaning in front of the team. “Honey, are you okay? Do you need some water?,” Sue comments, placing a hand on your shoulder. You took a deep breath, before looking to her. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling a little under the weather. Thank you though,” you lie, giving her a grateful look. You felt horrible lying to her, knowing her genuine concern for you, but you couldn’t let anyone, let alone her, know that her brother was teasing you during a very important meeting. She nods, returning the smile before both of you move your eyes back to the map in front of you. You take one more glance up to Johnny, who’s now looking to the ground as he now spun a pen around in his fingers. He’s pretending to be bored by it all, but he’s now heavily intrigued in this meeting as he tries to to get you hot and bothered.
He’s succeeding.
He knows he is.
It’s not like he’s never saw you like this. Just this time, it’s more interesting to see you revel under his touch, as you try to shrug it off.
“I like that idea. The next time they come back, we’ll be ready for them. I appreciate you and your team working with us, you’ve been more than helpful. Now, about sending a few of us through this building— what are your plans to hit them in the dark?,” Reed asks, now switching to a tablet, showing the blueprints to a warehouse. One where you plan for Yelena, Ava, and Walker to take out a group in the dark. Your body has calmed down, your voice now strong again as you point at the tablet.
“If we send Ghost through here, she can hit the transmission and knock the power out. I’ve read up on the building’s power lines. If she does it correctly, we’re looking at the power being rerouted. It would take at least 3 minutes for the generator to start up, and the alarms wouldn’t trigger if we cut the wire to them first. Saying she does this right, it would give Yelena and Walker time to take them out in the dark, significantly lessening the blow on the rest of us. I’ve seen their work before in a similar situation, at an O.X.E facility. They’re perfectly capable for a job like this,” your voice firm, confident in your team as you pitched the idea to him. Reed nods his head, tapping his fingers on the table. Sue and Ben exchange a look of approval, trusting your judgment.
“Are we looking at any guards? Anything possibly unprecedented that we should take into consideration?” You nod at Reed, before zooming into the map. “This building, last year, had some suspicious activity. There were some guards that came and went. Some days there were none, others rotated ever so often. Just last month, I spotted a handful of them going in and out. Their gear was unmarked, but,” you voice falters. Heat ignited between your legs, right at your core, making you grip the table and shut your eyes tight. “Are you okay? It seems like you’re not doing the best,” Ben comments. He’s noticed your moments of weakness during the meeting, but after three times it’s more concerning than he thought. Through clouded eyes from the tears threatening to fill your eyes from the stimulation, you look at him and nod. He stares at you for a moment, before turning around to grab a thermos of water. You looked at Johnny, who’s looking at you blankly, eyes slightly dark, and he mouths:
“Keep. Talking.”
The rest of the team are busy looking through files, giving you time to mouth a reply back.
“Stop. Teasing. Me.”
He smirks, tapping his foot slightly.
“Make me. I dare you.”
You shake your head in frustration. He won’t back down. He’s going to tease you until this hell of a meeting ends. No one noticed how your hands grip the table so tight that it creaks and your knuckles turn white, or how you’d unconsciously made a face of pleasure as you looked down at the map again.
Well, Johnny noticed. And it made him want to make you suffer more.
Your legs pressed together, feeling the warmth from before travel in circles around your center. You looked back at him from the table, noticing the pen from before was now bit between his teeth, as a small flame came from his fingers in your direction, slowly making the motions of rubbing you. He stood up from his chair, placing the pen on the desk beside him, before walking around the table and behind you. He reached around you, hand extending to grab a sheet on the table, as his other slides around your hip and into your pants, going between your legs. His fingers rub slow, painful circles around your clothed pussy as he keeps the façade of reading up. His breath was hot on your neck, kissing the shell of your ear before whispering:
“That’s it, baby. Be good for me. You’re so wet. Interrupt the meeting or have attitude with me again, and I’ll drag you right out of here to remind you how to listen to me.”
A small moan escapes you without warning, and he kisses your neck before harshly cupping your center, then removing his hand from you. He takes the papers he was “looking at” back to his chair, propping himself up again in the same way he was before: one hand preoccupied as the other was free, ready to tease you again at any moment. Your knees buckled, yearning for his touch to come back to you. Everyone else was heavily into looking through files, talking amongst themselves. You could be helping them, but there’s no way you’re in the right mind to do so. Not when you’ve got Johnny Storm, the universe’s hottest man, watching you like your prey as he thrives in your agony. Just as you thought he was done teasing you for now, the heat against your core returned. You’re struggling to keep quiet, knowing you cannot give into this. A smirk formed on his mouth as he watched you writhe oh-so-subtlety, your eyes following each movement his fire-lit fingers made. You’re lucky your knees haven’t given out, and that everyone is still looking through their plans and information. You looked at him again, eyes glaring before you rolled them, pleasure and frustration taking over. Johnny’s flame extinguished, hand moving to take the pen out of his mouth. His smirk falls, and he ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’s at you, shaking his head. Now you’ve gotten more attitude with him, and he told you what he’d do. He placed the paper beside him on the desk, moving to stand up. Then, he stops.
“We’re missing some files, Reed. I’ll have to go through the system and see what I can find,” Sue interrupts the silence, turning around. Ben agrees, with some of the blueprints he’d been going through being too outdated to be a trustworthy piece of data. Reed nods again, before clearing his throat.
“Alright, we’ll call it for now. Everyone, do what you can to find more up-to-date information and layouts. Meet back here tonight around 8,” he declared, his leadership coursing through this voice. He pushed his glasses up, before grabbing the tablet and folder with one hand, and reaching the other out to Sue to guide her to the office. Ben follows suit, taking a thick portfolio with him, heading off to the another part of the Baxter Building. The door shuts, the silence was deafening. The chair creaked as Johnny stood up, making his way over to you. You turn so your back is against the table, though not looking at him.
“You’ve got an attitude today, huh?,” his voice calm, concerningly calm as he stood in front of you. Instead of playing into his words, you let some of your frustration take hold of your actions and you ignore him. You move from the table, walking away from him and towards the door. You don’t hear him coming up behind you, until the door slams shut before you could make it through the frame. You turn to face him, and his body is so close to you that you’re practically pressed against his. He locks the door, sliding the hand up your body and around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, it’s not a tight grip. It’s a reminder of who’s in charge. It’s warm, passionate, controlling.
“I told you to keep that attitude in check, didn’t I?”
He pushed against your neck a little more, the slightest ounce of pressure now tightening your airways.
“You want to go against my orders? You better be ready to take what comes with it, sweetheart.”
Thoughts run in your mind. You could answer him and let him take you now, ending your desire for him after the tantalizing hour-long meeting— or, you could keep being a brat to him to see what really pushes him over the edge. Yeah, that seems like the right one. Your eyes glare at him, “I don’t have to listen to you. It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands off me. You even have to use your powers against me because you can’t help yourself.”
“Oh, honey, I know how to keep my hands to myself. There you were, so damn interested in your little plan, I just had to make it interesting for me,” his voice low, face dangerously close to yours. So close, you could kiss him with the slightest movement of your head. But you’re not going to. You’ve got more fight in you.
“I tried to ignore you. I told you to quit teasing me.”
“And I told you to behave or else.”
“Yeah. Or else what?”
That was it. That pushed him. His other hand grabbed your wrist, holding it tightly above your head, as the hand around your neck pressed even tighter.
“You really want to find out, princess? Because right now, I really want to bend you over that table and fuck some sense into you.. remind you who you belong to and who you’re gonna listen to. All because you didn’t want to behave today,” he growled, voice darker than you’d ever heard it sound. He let go of the hand holding your wrist, moving it down to your pants to start unbuttoning them. Maybe one more snarky reply wouldn’t hurt.
“It’s not my fault you have no self control.” His hand left your neck and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look straight into his eyes. “I’d be real careful if I were you, sweetheart. You keep it up and I’ll have the entire building know how much of a brat you’re being.” Your eyes stare into his darkened orbs, the look matching his intimidating one. The hold on your jaw tightens, stopping you from sneaking another remark in. “You really want me to stop teasing you? Fine. You asked for it.”
He picks you up over his shoulder, carrying you to the table in the middle of the meeting room. He basically throws you down on the table, face first. Your hands are beside your head, reaching straight out in front of you. He makes quick work of your pants and underwear, pushing them down in one solid move. He glides his hands up your waist, up to your arms to grab you by the wrists. With one hand, he holds them behind your back.
“Think you can listen to me now?”
You shake your head no. His snarls are loud, and you could swear you felt his body temperature raise. The grip holding your wrists together stays steady, but his movements stop. It was silent, too silent. You turned your head to look back at him, before feeling his hand push your head back down. His breathing slowly got louder, matching your racing heartbeat. He’s thinking about something. Then, he huffs.
His palm lands on your bare ass with a loud, sharp crack. It burns, but not the way a normal slap does. He smacked your ass while his hand was ablaze.
“Count,” he demanded, the words falling from his mouth were laced with desire.
The smack burned, the pain of the hit made it worse. You couldn’t really process it, before he spoke again.
“Count,” he ordered again, voice deeper as he felt anticipation charging in his veins.
“One,” you finally muttered out, teeth gritted together.
“Louder. I can’t hear you.”
“One.” You spoke with as much stability as you could muster.
“Good girl,” he praised, rubbing the red print on your ass.
With each strike, his hand warmed more and more, and the pain was almost too much, but not enough that it wasn’t still the hottest punishment you’d ever received. Literally.
By the 6th smack, your voice had fallen to a light whimper. You can almost tell the way he’s looking at you with each hit. There’s no smirk, no smile. Just a focused look on you, mouth open in admiration for how you’re doing as he says, with his teeth gritting after he landed each one.
“Now you’re behaving me, huh?,” he bends over your back, lips close to your ear, “It’s a little too late for that, sweetheart.”
He leans back up, rubbing his warm hand over the prints he’d left on you, light burns and palm shaped welp marks overlapping each other.
“Now, you’re gonna keep listening to me, correct?”
You nod quickly, eager for his next move.
“You’re not going to come until I say you can. Not until you tell me who you belong to. Do you understand?” His voice is strong. Commanding. Controlling.
The sheer power in his voice brought shivers back down your spine. He’d never been this dominant. Sure, there were times, more often than not, that he had control over you in the bedroom. That was just Johnny’s nature. But this? You have yourself to blame for this. Had you just listened, he’d not been this powerful over you. Not to say that’s a bad thing, not at all. Hell, you were enjoying this.
Your breath is shaky, not really having it in you to respond.
“Hmm? Do you?”
You nod you head, but that’s not enough for Johnny.
He lets go of your wrists and at the same time, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you harshly up to him.
“Say it.”
“J-Johnny..”
Another harsh smack to your ass, hotter than the previous ones.
“Say. It.”
“I’m yours, Johnny. Only yours. I’m yours..” you quickly whimper out, the whiniest and most pathetic your voice has sounded the entire night.
“There it is. Now, you’re gonna take your punishment like a good girl.”
He unzipped his pants, pulling them, alongside his underwear, down to his ankles.
He rubbed his cock a few times before lining it up with your absolutely soaked pussy. As he pushed in, the heat from his body had you clench around him, your exposed core was cold in comparison. He pushed your head back down, grip never faltering on your hair. His other hand holds onto your hips, bracing himself so his thrusts hit as hard and as deep as he could possible get them to go.
“Oh, fuck,” you cried out, each thrust hitting that spot. Your hands reach to grab something to hold onto, one finding some sheets of paper to grip and the other holds one of Johnny’s wrists as they’re holding tight onto your hair. Your moans are more whiny than anything, showing Johnny just how desperate you were for this.
“That’s it, baby. Take it all for me. That’s good,” he praises, disguising his moans with the words. You could barely make what he said out over the sound of your uncontrollable whines of pleasure.
He gripped ever so slightly tighter on your hair, using it as a reign to pull your body into each of his thrusts. Fuck, does he want to make you come now, but he also wants to tease you just a little more.
He pulls out of you, causing you to let out a sad moan, immediately missing the feeling of how he felt.. He tugged on your hair, bringing your weak body to a stand. Letting go, he turned you around to face him, lifting your arms, and removing your shirt before taking his own off. His eyes scan up and down your exposed chest, revealing in the beauty before him. He shook his head, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you to sit in the table.
“Open your mouth.”
You obeyed, your lust-filled eyes driving him insane. He wastes no time, grabbing the hair at the top of your head and fucks his fingers into your mouth. Your eyes start to close, and he yanks your hair to bring your gaze back to his.
“Don’t look away. Keep your eyes on mine.”
It’s hard. You’re already getting exhausted, but you don’t want it to end and neither does he. You’re enjoying your punishment. His fingers go deep into your mouth, just almost enough to make you gag, but he knows your limits. He respects them, even when he’s fucking the shit out of you like he is tonight. There’s the unspoken trust the two of you share. Sure, he may be an asshole, tonight more than usual, but in your relationship he wanted you to trust him. He treated you like a princess, worshipping the ground you walked on, respecting you even in your deepest, most sensual moments like this.
He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, taking his hand down to your pussy. The two fingers slid in perfectly, reaching as far back as he can, curving as much as can, as quick as he can. Your hands hold onto his shoulder, head buried into his neck as he uses you for his own viewing pleasure. “Fuuuck, Johnny, please, let me- ughhhhhh,” you growned. He stopped again.
“I told you, not until I say so. I thought you understood?,” you did. But you couldn’t control it, not when his warm fingers were as deep into your cunt as the were, his breath blowing straight onto your face as he moaned in safisfaction. By now, tears were filling your eyes from the many times you were denied pleasure, denied your desperately needed release.
You wanted to respond, but you just couldn’t form coherent words, stuttering over the same few sounds. The two fingers from your core are brought to his mouth, as he looked you dead in the eyes, licking your slick off of them. Then, you felt a slight smack to your face. Warm, as he uses his powers against you for the seemingly thousandth time tonight.
“Are you going to answer me? Do. You. Understand?,” he questioned you. He knew you did, but he was addicted to the way you were already losing it from the relentless teasing.
“Yes.. Yes, I understand,” you whimpered out.
“Good girl.. That’s what I thought,” his hand moved back down to your throbbing core, rubbing it lightly.
“A little reward for you. Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”
“Mmm-hmm, it.. sure does.. Johnny,” you whisper out, pleasure numbing your responses.
He hums back, kissing your forehead. He was giving you a break, reminding you that despite how harsh he’s been tonight, he still wants you to feel loved. It’s a small gesture, but there’s an understanding between you two. It’s short, sweet, refreshing.
He stops his movements, taking his hand away and moving it to your hip.
“Please, Johnny, I.. I..” you whine, leaning forward to nuzzle your head against his bare chest. He knows exactly what you want, and what you’re trying to say to him.
“You think you deserve it? After mouthing off at me? You need my cock buried inside you? The one belonging to the man you smart-assed?”
“Yes, yes I do. I’m so sorry, Johnny. I’ll be a good girl for you,” you promised. The levels of desire and yearning were taking over you, making you say whatever got you closer to finally getting to come.
He grabbed your shoulders, pushing you off his chest.
“You promise you’ll be good? If you’re not, you’re going to make me ruin you all over again. And you wouldn’t want all that, would you?”
Vigorously shaking your head no, you tilted your head to look at him, using your best puppy-dog eyes.
“There’s not an ounce of fight or attitude left in you, is there? Looks like my job is almost done,” he noted, knowing you’re both more than ready to receive the full extent of your punishment.
“Ruin me, Johnny. Please. I need you,” your voice is small, but he heard you perfectly fine. He taps your legs, signaling them to open farther, running his hands down your body before stopping one at your hips.
“No, sweetheart, you don’t get to need me. You’re going to take what I give you. You got that?”
“Yes, mm-hmm, yes.” You’re not sure how much more desperate you could sound, but you’re more than overdue his touch, and you’re willing to do anything to relieve yourself.
His other hand holds the back of your neck, bracing you as his slams into you in one rough thrust. It’s desperate, it’s aggressive, it’s needy. Just like you.
Your moans are loud, echoing off the walls and right back into your ears. You can barely hear his grunts under the sound of your own cries of pleasure.
“Oh, baby, that’s it. Yeah.. that’s it. Take everything I’m giving you. Taking it all so good… my sweet girl.”
He doesn’t set a pace, a rhythm, anything. It’s just him fucking you as hard and as much as he can get from you. By now, you’re overstimulated and haven’t even gotten your release. You know it’s coming, and part of you doubts you’ll get it— that he’ll pull back out of you again and ruin your orgasm, much like he’s ruined you all night.
He’s denied you, teased you, fucked you, fingered you, everything. There’s not much else you could take if he were to pull out of you. Hell, you’d probably come just from the thought of it all.
“Fuck, you’ve got the tightest fucking body. You knew what you were doing, huh?”
You didn’t respond. You weren’t even going to try this time.
Another slap to the face; not hard, not too painful. Just enough to bring you back to him. The flames flickered off his hand as his touched your skin. You hadn’t even noticed the heat.
“Didn’t you?”
“Mm-hmm,” is all you could muster.
“Look at you. You’re so beautiful when you’re fucked stupid. I don’t even have to move,” he abruptly stops his thrusts, and you don’t even notice for a second— your hips are rocking back at his without knowing, “See? You’re so lost in it all.”
He picked his thrusting back up, moving his hand from your neck, and to your other hip. You put your arms over his shoulders, holding your body closer to his as to keep yourself braced. You’re close— dangerously close.
“I can’t anymore, Johnny, I’m.. I’m gonna..”
“You want to come, sweetheart? Who do you belong to?”
“Mmmm, I’m yours, Johnny, I’m forever yours,” you croak out, voice hoarse and throat hurting from the now hours of teasing and denial.
“Good girl… such a good girl. Come for me, baby,” he finally said. After what seemed like forever, your release was here.
And you’re destroyed. Your body shakes as your nails scratch at Johnny’s back, the intense wave of your orgasm driving you insane. You practically convulse as your moans are nothing short of loud, hoarse whines.
He comes inside you, and had you not felt the warmth of it filling you up, you wouldn’t have been in the right mind to know it happened. The combined symphony of your moans and his bounced off the walls of the room, the silence holding the two of you making it all more sensual. Your body is shaking, hips involuntarily jerking as he’s still inside you. The feeling of his warm cock has you clenching him, and he’s still moaning at each one. You feel his hands run up your body, holding your arms and pulling back to look at your face.
“That’s my girl, you did so good- hey, are you okay?”
You feel one of his hands rub at your eye. You’re crying, and you didn’t even notice.
It’s not from pain, or agony, or anything of the sort.
You’re just downright exhausted. You went through hours of denial and to finally be granted the okay to let it all go? Yeah, you’re absolutely spent.
“I’m okay, just overwhelmed,” you laughed, giving him a small smile, “that was a lot.”
He pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. You can hear his heart thumping still, letting you know that he needed this almost as bad as you did.
“Easy, princess, I got you. Just breathe with me, okay?” He kisses your forehead again, before setting a steady breathing pattern for you to follow. A hand runs through your sweaty hair, lightly scratching your scalp as an act of comfort.
You hum in content, kissing his chest as a ‘thank you.’
“Did I go too far? Was I too rough on you, baby?”
At first you didn’t respond, trying to focus on keeping your breathing steady so you wouldn’t just lay back and pass out.
“Baby, tell me. I’m worried now, did I do too much?”
He feels your head slowly shake against his chest, and he let out sigh, relief showering him. He didn’t even think during most of it, neither did you; you were just living in the moment of it, too caught up in the tension to have anything else run through your mind. Now that you both were recovering, his voice matched yours; hoarse and spent.
“It was amazing, honey. Perfect, even,” you spoke against his skin, before kissing up his chest and to his neck, each one filled with love and reassurance.
“Thank God,” he said with a long sigh, “look at me.”
You obliged, looking up at his face. He’s so handsome like this— the level of care and comfort he gave you after each private session where you showed each other the amount of trust and love you shared. It was raw, it was.. always so perfect. Johnny may be an asshole, and yeah he’s got his moments with you. But he’d never want to hurt you, and deep down he knew that you’d let him know if he did. And tonight, despite the rough demeanor, you both knew you trusted each other, and would be reassuring if the other ever doubted.
“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You did so good, always so perfect. You’re such a strong woman. I love you, so damn much.”
And just like that, the tears threaten to fall again. This time from the love you felt for him. He rested his forehead against yours, taking in the peaceful silence left between you too. You took his chin in your hand, bringing him in for a kiss. One filled with more love, more reassurance, more trust, more than anything the two of you had voiced tonight.
“If I ever push you to your limits, or I hurt you, or.. if anything ever feels wrong, you’ll let me know, right?”
You nod, putting your forehead against his shoulder.
“Of course I will. Never once have I or did I feel like you would. I trust you, Johnny. I always will. I love you with all of my heart.”
A few moments of silence pass, before he goes to move, finally pulling out of you. Your core throbs at the loss of what felt like a perfect puzzle piece. Johnny puts his clothes back on, and walks across the room to gather the pieces of your clothing that he threw. He offered you his hand, and you hopped off the table. As soon as your feet hit the ground, you almost, legs weak as water.
“Woah, woah, woah, I gotcha.” He lifted you back onto the table, helping you redress as much as he could without you standing. “You sure you can walk? Or do I need to carry you?”
“I got this, watch me,” you playfully rolled your eyes, before hopping off the table once again, a little sturdier this time, buttoning your pants. Standing was one thing, but actually walking? Yeah.. that’s not happening right now.
“Okay, I’m carrying you. Come on, sweetheart.” He muttered to himself as he bent down to carry you. You yelped in surprise as he lifted you, carrying you bridal style to the door.
“You know, one day I’ll be carrying you through a doorway just like this, except it’ll be on our wedding day.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief. There was one thing that many people agreed on: Johnny Storm was not marriage material.
You never expected him to say anything about that— ever. You were content with just being with him, married or not. But to hear him say those words? That one day the two of you will get married? It made your heart swell.
“Oh, really, now? You’ve thought that far ahead?”
“Of course I have. I would love nothing more than to grow old you with, baby.”
The two of you come to a stop as you arrive at Johnny’s room, and he puts you down for a second to unlock the door.
“Like this,” he states, picking you up again and crossing into his bedroom. Your head just barely hits the frame, and he stops, frantically making sure you’re okay. You’re laughing, and the look of panic on his face somehow makes it even funnier. He watched you crack yourself up with a loving smile, just thinking about how much he adored you.
After the two of you finally got into his room, he sat you down at the edge of the bed and went to run a bath. Once you both relaxed in the warm water for what seemed to be forever, you both got ready for some well deserved rest, and nestled into his bed.
You’re curled up into his side, your head on his chest, ready to doze off before you heard him speak.
“You okay?”
“Mm-hmm, just tired is all. I’m more than okay,” you promised, nodding your head against his warm chest.
“Tired from what? Having so much attitude or getting what you deserved for an hour?”
Ah, there it was. There’s the Johnny you knew. Now, not to get it misconstrued or anything, you loved when Johnny had his soft, romantic side. But this? This version of Johnny is what you loved the most. His sarcastic, joking manner. You flicked his chest, laughing slightly. His grip on you tightened, starting to laugh with you.
A few moments pass of you both just taking in the peace and comfort of being in the presence of one another.
“You really do trust me, don’t you?”
“Absolutely. With my life, Johnny.”
He doesn’t reply, not immediately. You feel him nod, and the hand on your arm rubs up and down.
“There’s no one else on this Earth I’d rather spend my life with.”
He opens his mouth, ready to hit you with another joke, but he stops himself.
“Get some sleep, you deserve it. I got you, sweetheart.”
You nestle closer, and Johnny pulls the sheets up farther up over the two of you. Listening to his heartbeat as the calm, grounding sound echoed in your ear, you drifted off into sleep, in the arms of the man you loved more than life itself.
The meeting at 8 that night never happened, seeing as some of the blueprints were smudged and crumbled up. Wonder how that happened?
wc: 1.1 K
warnings: fluff, no y/n used, Logan doesn't really know how to use words,
summary: [inspired by another post] @freiys-fics, Logan is strangely attracted to your soft nature.
a/n: that post set something off inside me, I'm also a pretty quiet person, so it spoke to me >"< Enjoy!!
The meeting room is filled with light tension as Xavier and Beast discuss the next mission, while most others just sit around and try to keep their attention on them. Logan is sat against the edge of the long table, eyes darting between the two mutants with light focus, trying to understand their current discussion. But it all goes out of the window once his eyes find you once again. It has been weeks and he still doesn‘t really know much about you. And it‘s been eating him up.
He has seen the way you effortlessly defeat villians, how you move across the field or in a room, always carrying a hint of calmness. Logan inspires the way you never seem to complain — no matter how bad the mission was, no matter how annoying some orders were to follow. In fact, he has never heard you talk that much before. Only when it was necessary. Even now, in the meeting room, during this very briefing, he is tempted to walk up to you, ask you something stupid, just to hear you talk.
But, of course, he doesn‘t. If anything, he never knows what to talk to you about most of the time. The only time he almost came up to talk to you, was when you were wearing a shirt of The Doors, but hesitated too long before you went away again. He has been determined from that day to at least talk to you about anything.
Which is weird for him. Normally, he‘d just go up to anyone and strike a conversation, flirt a little until he gets what he wants. But it‘s clear that probably won‘t work with you. He could have gone up to you and ask about your mutation, but even there he failed at forming a question.
So, once you were all at a bar with the team after a successful mission, he was watching you from the corner of the booth, while quietly nursing his whiskey.
You were chatting with Storm while standing at the bar counter, looking as calm as usual. Charles has teased him about two times already, about the way Logan keeps looking your way, eyes softening ever so lightly. He has given Charles exactly one warning and since then, he is able to watch you peacefully.
After a while, Storm sits back into the booth and you stay by the bar, quietly nursing your own drink.
»You know… you could finally talk to them.«
Storm speaks up as soon as she is seated next to Logan, not hiding her clear intention. Logan gives her a brief glare before looking back to you, letting out a gruff grumble.
»If they want to be alone, then I won‘t bother them.«
That makes even Charles roll his eyes before he leans over the table, trying to talk some sense into Logan without getting into his brain.
»Logan— James, please talk to them. We are tired of watching you admiring her like a love-sick puppy.«
That earns a glare from him, making Charles lean back and put his hands up in defense.
»Jus‘ saying...«
After further contemplation, and peer pressure, he finally gets off the booth and makes his way toward you. His steps are slightly less confident than usual, one hand tucked into his jean pocket. He clears his throat before standing beside you, taking a seat at the bar stool next to you.
»Doin‘ alright?«
Your eyes meet, giving him a soft smile before you speak up.
»Hey, yeah. What about you?« Logan hopes you don‘t see his surprise at the fact that you seem to be interested in holding some conversation with him, instead giving you a light nod in return. He sets his glass on the bar counter top beside yours, clearing his throat.
»You… like The Doors? Like, the band?«
God, he‘s being awkward. He can feel the stares of the team from the booth, possibly judging him and being even more annoying about it all. But once he hears your quiet chuckle, he softens, shoulders slumping a fraction.
»Yeah, how‘d you know?« You see him stare at you for a couple seconds before he regains his composure, putting on an easy smirk.
»Oh, just happened to see you wear their merch some time.« Logan shrugs, clearly trying to match your calm energy while still trying to flirt around, without scaring you off.
»Oh, right… I‘m guessing you‘re also a fan of them?«
He nods and shrugs lightly finally going into a smooth conversation with you.
It‘s only now that he finally gets to know more about you, about your likes and dislikes, your quirks, and what-not. Only once the others say their goodbyes, you two realise how long you‘ve been talking to eachother.
»Well, see you guys tomorrow. Don‘t stay here too long.« Charles stands behind you both, a lazy smile over his face as he gives Logan a smug wink. As if you wouldn‘t notice. Still, you decide not to think too much of it.
»Yeah, sure.« Is all Logan says before focusing back on you, ready to talk some more, maybe even get closer while the others finally make their way outside, back to the University.
But all of his plans go out of the window as soon as you announce going home for tonight as well, standing off your bar stool. He follows suit quickly, trying hard not to end this too fast.
»Uh, I can walk you home, if you want. I don‘t mind.« He offers, hoping he doesn‘t sound like a complete creep. Instead of rejection or a weird look, heh receives another one of your sweet smiles, as well as you agreeing with him.
You end up walking back home in the dark streets, shoulders bumping every now and then with his. He makes sure you make it safely inside your apartment, standing outside for a second longer before he eventually makes his way back to the university.
»Did you at least get a kiss?«
»What did you guys talk about the whole night about?«
»Seriously? You didn‘t even hold hands?«
Questions and more questions piled up over Logan the whole morning, eventually snapping at each of them and giving them a warning to shut their holes. But it doesn‘t stop there. Even his students seem to have caught onto the crush, having started to give hints to you… and maybe have made a few comments to Logan just to tick him off.
Safe to say, he makes sure to keep things private with you, since you seem to prefer doing things private as well.
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there’s no way he didn’t. he kept it hidden, in a small navy box tucked away behind letters from his sisters. he bought it somewhere in london — some pawn shop he didn’t remember the name of. he knew steve would say yes, even if no one else would ever know he did. in fact, he’d probably be mad bucky hadn’t got the guts to ask sooner. but bucky wanted away from all this — the blood matted into their hair, the gunpowder on their faces, the dirt in their fingernails, their ever-wet socks.
the last thing he thought of as he lay in the cold and unforgiving austrian snow, was that shiny silver band tucked away in the back of his bag back at base.
now imagine steve.
it’s 2011. everyone you’ve ever loved is dead or geriatric. you’re a national icon.
so you go to see your exhibit in the smithsonian because someone deemed a suicidal gay man dressed in stars and stripes worthy of an exhibit. you see your best friend the love of your life has his own part of it. he should be the whole damn exhibit.
then an automated voice directs you to a small glass display case in the corner. the last of sergeant barnes’ personal belongings, collected from his tent at base camp. february, 1944.
there’s a navy box with a plain, silver band to the very far left.
the notecard says something about the possibly barnes got married before he shipped out, but there was no record of it. maybe it wasn’t official.
