Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Ant-Man (Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Scott Lang/Reader
Characters: Scott Lang, Reader
Additional Tags: Post-Movie: Captain America: Civil War (2016), Pre-Movie: Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018), Reader-Insert, POV Second Person, One Shot, Banter, Implied Sexual Content, Cheating, Flirting, Awkward Flirting, Humor, Inspired by Album Fugitive Songs
Series: Part 9 of Fugitive Songs
Summary:
Summary: Scott Lang x fe!Reader -> After a mission, you have a hard time dealing with the aftermath, but Scott helps you more than you realise.
Disclaimer: nightmare trope, dealing with physical and mental trauma, you teach Scott how to crochet, angst, hurt/comfort, one bed, fluff, friends-to-lovers, Scott helps you find your way back to normal, best friend! kate bishop.
The mission had been a long one.
Nearly two years of deep research and gathering intel, eight months undercover, six months of jury trials, interrogations, another six weeks undercover, two weeks held hostage when your identity was uncovered and then a month of more jury trials and packing away what was left of the closed case.
You knew the mental recovery would be long – you just didn’t count for the physical.
A month after everything had finished, you woke up and followed your routine.
Wake up, get out of bed, open your window, brush your teeth, make your bed, have a shower, get dressed, do your skin care, read, have breakfast and then…find something to do.
All the while you were still walking at least four times slower than usual due to the strain in your muscles.
“Hey,” Kate smiled as she walked inside.
You were standing at the kitchen island, forcing yourself to make some lunch.
The routine you followed had been made by Yelena to help you get out of the void. All you had wanted to do was sleep, but you barely had the energy for that. Then the nightmares started; both made up and real. So, even if you got some sleep, it wasn’t for very long.
“Whatcha making?”
“Uhhh,” you really wanted to reply but you were struggling to find the mental capacity to come up with an idea. And lifting the meat packet was a struggle. “A sandwich?”
Kate nodded. “Fancy some leafy greens?”
Kate held up the package from the farmer’s market. You just nodded. Kate beamed, laying the bag on the counter and walking to stand by your side. “Great! I don’t usually like spinach – too green – but this one? I don’t know how they grow it but it is amazing.”
Adding on some extra, you thanked Kate as she did it for you.
“How are you feeling today?”
“Better,” you answered, truthfully. “But still…”
Kate nodded, quietly. “I know.”
“I really want to cry,” you admitted.
“Want me to cut some onions to help? I could always stick on The Notebook. I know that always-”
You shook your head. You wanted so badly to laugh. But you just didn’t have the energy.
Kate saw the distant look in your eyes. Every day, she saw a little hint of the best friend she once had, coming back.
All it took was a look and Kate wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you until there was no breath left. “Honey, I need to breathe.”
“Sorry,” she apologised, stepping back.
There was a slight hint of a smile – a weight lifted off your shoulders – “Thank you,”
Kate didn’t have to be told; it wasn’t a ‘thank you’ for letting go, it was a ‘thank you’ for hanging on.
As the physical pain became less over the weeks that followed, the mental pain eased a little. But you still felt on edge – as if it was a tidal wave simply pulling back, waiting for the calm moment to come crashing down and drowning you.
“Banan-Appeal.”
Turning around, a little shocked, you found Scott Lang standing a few shelves away. “Scott?”
He smiled, looking at the yarn. “I mean, as fruit jokes go, that’s pretty peachy.” He followed with a pretend drum and cymbals.
You felt yourself smile a little. Probably unnoticeable, but it was something.
You didn’t say anything, just turned back to the shelves filled with yarn. “I’m, uh, thinking about making something for Cassie. Kids have access to pretty much everything these days. I thought something hand-made might be worthwhile.”
“What do you want to make?”
Scott shrugged, walking to the next shelf, rummaging through the wool and yarn haphazardly. “I don’t know. Any suggestions?”
“Maybe you should look in the book.”
“The book?”
You nodded over to the large binder by the door. “There’s patterns labelled with sizes and…things.” Most of the words left your brain before you could even think of using them.
Scott nodded with a smile. “Thanks.”
You didn’t notice but as Scott flipped through the book, he kept flicking his gaze over to you. You seemed just as lost as him; more due to colour choices, not lack of knowledge.
“How easy would you say this is?” Scott asked, holding up the page.
It was a blanket pattern. Nothing too complex. “Can you do a simple chain?”
Scott paused, turning back through the book and flipping the page.
You had a mental debate for a while, weighing up the pros and cons of what you would say next. And, somewhere after the next fifteen minutes your brain finally said; fuck it.
“I can teach you,” you said, shocking yourself. “If you’d like.”
Scott seemed genuinely surprised. “A-are you…yes! Yes, please. Are you sure?”
You nodded. “I’ve got a lot of time.”
Scott smiled brightly and, for the first time in almost three years, you felt something genuinely warm inside your chest. “Thank you!”
And that was how you found yourself sitting in a storage room with Scott Lang at nearly ten at night, talking all things crochet, colours and Cassie.
“So, how old were you when you started with all of this?” Scott gestured to the room of yarn.
“About Cassie’s age,” you replied. “I had a summer off school and I didn’t have many friends. My mom would take me to the library and the assistant there,” you swallowed. “She looked after me whilst my mom went to work. Gladys – the library assistant – taught me everything she knew. Including this.”
Scott smiled, “She taught you more than how to crochet?”
You felt yourself smile at the memories. “She’s actually the reason I ended up working for Shield.”
“Seriously?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
Scott wanted to ask a million and one questions, but he held back. He enjoyed talking to you but he didn’t want to scare you off. “That’s so cool.”
You sat with Scott for another five minutes before your watch buzzed on you saw your phone light up on the floor. Just past ten at night.
Eventually saying goodnight to Scott, who walked you back to your room, you told him if he’d like, you’d meet him tomorrow in the kitchen and you could both continue your projects.
He beamed, nodding and saying yes as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
And he did.
You waited in the living room for twenty minutes before you and Scott had agreed to meet. Even though you lived in the complex and had nothing else to do, you didn’t want to be late.
“Okay, I need to ask you something?”
Scott came into the room like a whirlwind, sitting down beside you as you found the courage to curl up on the sofa with a comfort blanket. After the months undercover, you’d struggled finding peace with, well, peace.
“Did I…what happened?”
“I went to the store this morning to pick up a few things and I went past the arts and crafts section. Is it…is it normal to walk into a store and walk out with an army sized bag of wool and yarn?”
For the first time in, well, a long time; you laughed. Really laughed, and so did Scott. “Is it normal?”
You nodded, “Yeah, it’s normal.”
Scott physically wiped his brow. “Okay, phew.” Then he spotted the blanket you were covered by. “Did you make this?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I’d made one for Kate’s birthday before…” You felt the darkness creep over your heart for a few moments. “Before my last case. I wanted to make a matching one.”
Scott offered you a smile. “It’s seriously cool. Maybe that can be my next project.”
What you’d convinced yourself would have been maybe a three day maximum teaching session turned into months long talks and growth of friendship, happiness and laughter.
Cassie loved her gift from Scott so much, it ended up with him making more in different colours, sometimes bringing Cassie along after school so she could, in Scott’s words, “learn from the best”, and so many hours spent at the craft stores that the employees started to know you on a personal level.
And one afternoon when Kate came back from an early-finished training day, she could have kissed Scott.
Kate knew you’d been spending time with him and that you’d found your voice again, slowly but surely. She just hadn’t realised just how much Scott had helped you, whether he knew it or not.
For the first time since you’d come back from your hospital stay when you were finally rescued, Kate recognised you.
You were sitting on the sofa, craft project half finished, tears streaming down your face as you wheezed in laughter, falling into Scott as he laughed through his own story.
“You’re kidding!”
Scott laughed. “I really wish I was.”
“Oh, my god.”
Kate didn’t want to see it stop so she very carefully stepped out of the doorway before you both spotted her, stood with her back to the wall, and listened to your laughter fill the room.
As the days bled into months, your friendship with Scott grew until you mentally reached a point where you started to recognise yourself again. It went so far that you could track it through the projects you’d made with him.
The first couple had been done in darker colours, not matching well, untidy, threads unweaved. Then, as they went on, not only did they get neater, but they got brighter, too. More detailed, more care, love and joy.
But, it was the night when everyone was out – either on vacation or a mission – and that you felt like you had enough space to breathe without needing an oxygen tank around you in the form of anyone or anything; it was that night the tidal wave came crashing down.
In recent months, your nightmares had subsided, you were getting more sleep that was actually deep and decent.
Instead of a peaceful night, however, you felt like you were falling. When you finally hit the ground, you realised where you were. It all felt so real – to the point where your recent reality felt like a dream.
Dust and dirt coated your fingernails, dried blood was caked into your hair along with mud, your breathing was restrained and desperate. You could hear the chains swinging outside of your chamber door, back-alley doctors and scientists cleaning the room before they’d come and find you only to start the procedures on you.
They wanted vengeance for your betrayal. They wanted answers for their questions. They wanted intel that was easier, in theory, to get from you than it was to hack into the Shield independent servers.
Eventually, you felt the pain. And the beating. And the torture.
“Y/n! Y/n!”
You didn’t know how long someone had been shouting your name but eventually you sat up, searching around your room until you realised you weren’t there.
You were in the living room. The fire was out. The moon was at full beam. The curtains looked like guards, standing on either side of the tall windows. And Scott Lang was sitting beside you, facing you and holding you still.
“S-Sco…” You tried to breathe but it hurt. “Scott?”
“Yeah,” he sounded sad. “It’s me. Can you breathe for me?”
“I don’t-”
“It’s okay. Just follow-”
You started crying, fear still running through your blood. On instinct, you moved forward and hugged Scott as if he was your only real anchor to the world, letting you know you weren’t dreaming.
“You’re safe, I’m here.” Scott told you. “I’m real. Everything’s over now. Can you breathe with me?”
Scott took deep, slow breaths as you held onto him. Eventually, he felt you copy him until he heard your breathing go back to normal.
He would have stayed up and talked to you about what had happened, what you had seen, what you had sensed and how you were safe. But he could see the pain behind your eyes, along with the exhaustion from both life and from the adrenaline.
So, rather than talk, he laid you back down on the sofa and lay right down next to you. Your fists barely unfurled from his top as he did so.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you.” Scott pressed a light kiss to your head as he covered you both up with the crochet blanket that lay on the back of the sofa.
In the morning, he would tell you how he didn’t want to waste time getting stuck in traffic and let time slip away from him and you talking and laughing so he’d decided to stay after he finished training. He would tell you how Friday’s programming had sent an alert to his room about you and how he’d heard your screams in pain and terror.
He would make sure you didn’t fall into the dark hole that was Trauma and how he would get you to laugh; even if it was over something as stupid as a juggling act gone wrong over homemade breakfast.
He would stay by your side all day, and not bat an eyelash when you’d hold his hand in public. He wouldn’t make you feel weird about needing him close by and he wouldn’t make you feel guilty over your fear.
And when you finally went to bed despite the fear of falling asleep, he’d stay by your side the whole night with his arm around your middle, his cheek against your pillow and his forehead against your own.
Summary- You and Scott have been broken up for a while, Scott being Scott is still naturally down bad and not to get into details (I do wanna get into details) he can't seem to get "excited" for anyone but you which surprisingly is a massive turn on to you.
(Bottom Scott Lang x Top GN Reader)
(This is sort of a guilty pleasure fanfic lmao)
Warnings?: Just teasing and grinding, overstimulation- a tiny bit of fluff (because it's Scott, he's freaky but also in love) Some minor angst and yearning you get it.
But here he is, Scott Lang (your ex boyfriend) standing at your front doorstep.
Roses in hand from a Wal-Mart most likely.
He looks slightly embarrassed to be here but he could not stop thinking about you-
"They suck- they seriously suck." had been the only thought on his mind on the drive to your apartment. (He didn't actually think that by the way)
Especially because he went out of his way to get you flowers too.
Quite the opposite to be super real with you, Scott was well- to put it as nice as possible whipped as hell even if you had broken up months prior.
"I um- shit this was so much easier in my head- look I-" Scott tries explaining while going red in the face, you always enjoyed seeing how naturally shy he'd often get (especially when he was asking you to try something new in the bedroom).
You can't help the smile that creeps onto your face "You're not drunk are you?" you tease a little bit as you watch his face grow a darker shade of red.
He groans a bit rolls his eyes a bit (with no real bite behind it).
"You don't need to rub it in-" He says rubbing his neck a little bit as he holds out the flowers for you "If you wanna tell me to go that's alright." He's saying, not realizing you're leading him inside your studio apartment.
"Heck, I wouldn't even be surprised if you wanted to curse me out for waking you up this late at night-"
"Right yeah-" You're agreeing as you have him sit down on the couch, setting the flowers onto the coffee table.
"Look if you wanna tell me to go I won't blame you-" He's still nervously rambling as you slowly climb onto his lap, his hands instantly and subconsciously moving to find their place on your hips.
"I should honestly do that. Jesus- I cannot believe you're not leaving me be." You reply sarcastically as you gently start to kiss down his neck.
Jesus Christ- that's the stuff, Scott instantly tilts his head back letting out a small moan. "It's just um-" He says as his words stutter slightly between pants "Um- well it um wouldn't- oh geez-" he pants as you bite down on his neck slowly.
Your tongue on his neck is enough to make him wish you could get him pregnant.
"It's just what? Hmm? Finish your sentence." You say tilting his head up to look you in the eye, shit you always knew how to dog walk him (and he complied every time).
With a gulp Scott tried going on, his throat suddenly feeling a bit dry (maybe spitting in his mouth could hydrate him, who knows).
"I uh well- I've tried activities with other people lately and uh- wow how hot is your apartment-"
You grin as you start to rub a hand between his legs, feeling how he shifts underneath you to accommodate and spread for you. Giving free reign to explore him like you have thousands of times before.
Scott looks at your lips like he's been a man whose gone a lifetime without food and your lips are a feast that he can't wait to taste.
Fuck it's honestly your favorite thing he could do with his stupid stupid face.
He tries to lean in to get a kiss, just one kiss- just one kiss and it's like he'll be cured. You stop him, pressing a finger to his lips as a barrier between you both.
He groans and gives you a look. Shiver me timbers.
"Finish your sentence." You grin as you slowly run your fingers through his hair, his grip on your waist instantly grows tighter.
"Alright it wouldn't go up for anyone- Jesus Christ- is that what you wanted to hear?" He says, knowing from many past experiences that if he doesn't comply then he won't get that sweet sweet release that you so graciously allow him every time.
Your hand is traveling and massaging between his legs as he goes on, some more. "Oh god." He pants into your shoulder as you slowly rub and caress everything you can find.
His head is resting on your shoulder, hips bucking into your hand like his life depends on it.
"Please please please... ah fuck- oh jesus-" He's whimpering into your shoulder as you work him.
"You never finished your sentence." You tease as you slip your hand into his pajama pants, nothing Scott does can prevent the gasp that escapes him when he feels you against him through his boxers.
As you massage and toy with every bit of him the face he was making seems stuck in your head-the love sick look he'd always gave you when you were together.
Seeing that look after not being around each other for a while stirred something inside you- stirring something stronger than seeing Scott at your door with roses in hand. He misses you- so badly.
Whatever- you think, he's probably only here as some kind of drunken mistake- you two will probably regret a lot in the morning- funny enough you feel a little bit sick at the thought.
Testing some waters you tilt Scott's head up to meet your eye, feeling heat rush to your cheeks when you still see the look on his face- oh my god the definition of "yearning" on his face.
"You're not here because you're drunk or something-right?" You ask, voice not going above a whisper. Scott frowns a little bit, almost like you asked him if he likes pineapple on pizza or something.
"What?? No no- I'm not here because I've been drinking or anything." He answers immediately, sitting up to talk this out with you.
With all of the past exes you've had in the past you've learned how to sniff out bullshit and lies over the years and the way Scott's pleading eyes meet yours definitely tells that he would rather die than do that to you.
God what were you both doing?
If any of your other exes pulled this shit you would've honestly ran them over with your car or something- but shit- here was Scott sitting on your couch with you on his lap- why did this happen all of a sudden?
"You have no clue how much I..." Scott starts as he gently cups your cheek "...How much I miss you- every day." Oh God.
God maybe he was right- was your apartment hot? How high did you set your thermostat?
"You know- it's funny...If any of my other exes did this- showed up like you did I would've kicked their ass." You say glancing down at his lips for a brief small moment before looking back at him "But for some reason- I really don't mind you showing up like an idiot."
"C'mon do you have to call me an idiot"
"Would you like me to kick you out now? That's still an option you know."
Scott laughs a little bit, still staring at you with that adoring look that always made your worst days better.
"You didn't really mind me being here- considering how marked up my neck is now." Scott grins at you, causing you to playfully punch his shoulder.
"You're the worst."
"I know but you still wanted seconds of me sooo..."
You grinned and leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips- soft but with a message behind it. A message that only you two understood tonight "I've missed you two."
"Why don't you stay the night. It's too late to drive."
Captive || Summary: Foreplay is always fun with your husband.
A Dream Worth Forgettting || Summary: You'd been friends with Scott since you were practically in diapers, you knew everything about each other....Except one day he'd gone away for a while.... he returned after sometime and you'd decide to figure out what his deal was.....what you discover, however, isn't at all; what you expected.
Summary: You'd been friends with Scott since you were practically in diapers, you knew everything about each other....Except one day he'd gone away for a while.... he returned after sometime and you'd decide to figure out what his deal was.....what you discover, however, isn't at all; what you expected.
Word Count: 441
Warnings: vampire au, murder, blood, swearing
Read on ao3! Tag List
“Are you fucking serious right now?” You blinked at the scene in front of you. “Scott-”
“Don’t act surprised.” he glimmered, kicking the foot of a dead body as he strolled over to you. “You knew who I was. You knew damn well about my life.”
“Scott, what the hell are you?” you blabbered, staring at the shiny teeth that had been glistening with blood.
“I told you not to get too close to me, Y/N.” He grinned, blood stained his teeth as he advanced on you, forcing you up against the wall behind you.
You were only trying to see why he was avoiding you lately. You had questions to ask him. You had suspicions that he was whoring himself around. There was no way he could afford the lavish dinners and clothes that he had been purchasing lately. You didn’t mean to walk in on him feeding on a poor dead guy in the middle of his fucking living room! What the hell?
“All the signs were there, kid.” he chuckled darkly, placing his palms against the wall behind your head, trapping you. His brown eyes beamed with lust and... was that hunger? Was he going to sink his teeth into you next? What the fuck? “C’mon, think about it; I don’t go out unless it’s night. I refuse to wear silver jewelry. C’mon.” The chuckle that fell from his mouth sent a cold shiver down your spine.
Shaking your head, you whined. “No.”
He hiked a brow with an amused smirk. Wiping at the corners of his lips, he snapped his fingers and revealed his daughter, Cassie. “It was either I turned or she died in front of me. Now, technically, we’re both dead.”
“What happened? Where the hell was Luke? Clint sent you to ambush Pepper! What the fuck happened, Scott!”
“Cassie, return to your room, will you?” Scott ordered lightly without breaking eye contact with you. “Luke died protecting me. He couldn’t survive the nest. It turns out, Sharon Carter and Pepper Potts aren’t the scheming cunts we thought they to be. They’re vampires. They suck the life out of any who dare challenge them or try and sneak into their buildings. They turned myself and Cassie to spare a child’s life.”
“When?” your lip trembled. “How long ago? Were you ever going to tell me any of this? Does Clint know?”
“Sometime in the beginning of March.” He blinked slowly before dropping his hands to his sides. “I wasn’t planning on telling anyone, and yes, Clint knows. He knows everything.”
You slid down the wall and placed your head on your knees. “Holy fuck.”
Summary: Foreplay is always fun with your husband.
Warnings: Suggestive themes
WC: 349
Read on ao3! Tag List!
A/N: originally posted to an older blog in November 2018. I've been hunting down older fics of mine from older blogs.
You laugh at the man standing in front of you. He wields a mask over his face and he’s brandishing a butterfly knife. He looks absolutely moronic. But you have a part to act in. You must act nonchalant, even though your heart is pounding in your chest.
Your hands itch with intensity as you try and escape the rope that binds them behind the chair that your sitting on. He stalks in front of you, his breath coming in pitches, chest heaving heavily. Your mesmerized by the man, yet, you mustn’t show any fear.
You bit down on your tongue as another bout of laughter threatens to escape your throat. The man ceases in his pacing and leans forward, his hot breath blowing softly on your cheeks. “Don’t underestimate me.” he growls in a deep tone.
“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes as his gaze flashes with a surge of anger. “You’re nothing but a puppy; you couldn’t hurt a damn thing if you tried.”
The man eases the blade of the butterfly knife against your throat and from the corner of your gaze, you noticed the slight bulge in his pants. You have him now, you have him cornered. You knew he would get off to your resistance.
“Try me, bitch.” he seethes, his voice slightly muffled behind the mask. “Go ahead.”
You smirk and lean slightly forward to press the hilt tighter to your throat. It stings, yet you keep your composure. “Scott, kiss me.” you order lightly. “Take off the mask, and kiss me like you mean it.”
He growls under the mask before pulling it from his head and dropping the knife onto the ground. He grabs your face between his hands and roughly leans in, his lips and teeth rough against your own as you expertly work yourself out of the rope and curl your hands around his neck.
He roughly grips you up and pulls you to your feet before you jump and wrap your legs around his waist as he blindly guides you to the bed only meters away from you.
